She arrived at his office precisely on time, wearing a skirt, blouse, and high heels. They had messaged each other briefly but never met, and she was nervous. She was here under the guise of getting financial advice from a pro, but she knew what he was, underneath the suit and tie. They had spoken about their mutual interests in a power exchange relationship. He was what she needed, what her body and her mind craved. Something she hadn't had in quite some time. Could she hold herself together long enough to get through the foreign language of finances and exit the building with her dignity? She really did need someone to help her with her finances.
A receptionist showed her into his office and closed the door behind her. A quick glance around the room revealed wood-paneled walls, green low-pile carpeting, a broad, sparsely-appointed wooden desk, and a large picture window with one-way glass. She was vaguely aware that he was gesturing toward a chair facing the desk and made her way to it, avoiding eye contact. As she nervously fidgeted he held out his hand to shake hers and introduced himself. She shyly offered her hand and noted how cold it was compared to his. His hand was broad-soft, but strong, and nearly enveloped hers. She noted a faint smell of cologne, one she had smelled before and liked, but she couldn't think of the name of it in her current state of nervousness.
She seated herself and swallowed hard as she considered his first question: "How can I help you?" You have no idea of the dozens of delicious ways we can help each other, she thought. After collecting herself she proceeded to talk about savings, plans for retirement, and other mundane chatter as she slowly began to relax and brought herself to finally look into his eyes.
His eyes were a dazzling blue, striking in the intensity of their color-or was it the intensity of his gaze? Again she swallowed hard as her thoughts began racing. His presence in the room was palpable. This man was in charge of his life and everything in his sphere of influence. She tried hard to pay attention as he spoke of 401Ks, 403bs, pensions and contributions, taxes...but her mind wandered and she was clearly distracted as her gaze constantly shifted around the room, avoiding those piercing blue eyes; shrinking under the force of his mere presence, a dominating force she could feel, and her body responded to.
"Does that plan sound amenable to you?" She had a swift intake of breath as her mind was brought back into the present by his question.
"Um, yes, very good, thank you" she managed to choke out, suddenly focusing on the green carpet. It was emerald, and quite lovely. She hadn't noticed the specks of gold in it before.
"Young lady, are you even listening to me?" His question came as a shock, and with an authority and sternness in his voice she wasn't expecting.
"Yes Sir, I am," she answered, "Um, at least, I'm trying to" she managed.
He paused and leaned back in his office chair, threading his fingers together in his lap. He paused for a few seconds before saying "You appear to be quite distracted, Miss. You keep pulling your knees together, shifting your weight in your chair, fidgeting with your hands, and I believe your face is flushed." My God, he can see it. Fuck. She felt her face get hotter and she looked down at her lap, wishing she could just disappear.
"This was a bad idea" she thought to herself, "I never should have come. I should go." She mumbled a "thank you for your time" as she grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
"STOP." It wasn't a request. She froze in place. "Come here," and as she approached him, he said "Kneel." For once she felt graceful. She knew how to place herself in this position-knees slightly apart, feet tucked underneath, hands resting on her thighs palms-up, back straight, chin up but gaze lowered. Now she felt at ease. Her breathing quieted as she waited. "Good girl" he said quietly.
