True story of my first meeting with Victoria, a sub I had been nurturing for over a year by phone and email. I am totally anonymous to her, and it's part of what thrills her. It's a very short read, but it's what happened on our first meeting. When I finish the "Lynn's Journey" series, I'll move on to telling Victoria's story.
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It was our first meeting. I had arrived early and gotten a seat at the end of the bar. It was beginning to fill as the workday wound down. I chose the place for it's proximity and dimly lit interior, but also because it was expensive enough to avoid running into anyone from work. The bar was dark and hummed (in a hushed kind of way) from business conversations and the chatter of bored rich ladies with nothing better to do. It never reached standing-room capacity.
I sipped my bourbon and watched my email. She doesn't know my name or phone number, where I work, where I live. She can only reach me by email. She calls me "Dick". She knew so little about me I wasn't sure she would show.
We found each other on Ashley Madison before the big data breach (yes my name was exposed but as far as I know, not found out by anyone I know). Over time through emails she learned she was submissive and I learned she had fantasies about public sex and gang bangs. She had a hard time coming to terms with being submissive because she thought she was a vanilla, take-charge, liberated woman, and like most vanilla people, she thought being submissive meant she was weak.
She was in a broken marriage with two daughters in high school and was going through a divorce. Eventually I started calling her on my way to work (number blocked) and she would literally fuck herself while I instructed her and shared taboo fantasies in her ear. She learned to edge. She learned to have multiple orgasms. She learned to squirt. She wanted to have a lesbian lover. She was 40 years old, and I had her to buy her first vibrator. She kept buying more toys. Now she's a regular customer at the sex shop and friends with the ladies who own it.
She arrived straight from work dressed like the career salesperson that she is. She had sent me pics so I recognized her when she walked in, and I stood up. Part of her initial training was that she had to send me a picture of her pussy every day to show that she wasn't wearing panties. I would have recognized her more readily if she were naked. I could pick her pussy out of a pussy line up.
She was much prettier in person than in her pictures. She smiled broadly and she made her way swiftly to me. She hugged me as she said "Finally, I get to see what you look like!"
"Hi Victoria, Do I meet your approval?"
"Oh yes, yes you do."
She leans up to give me what I thought would be a peck on the cheek, but she went straight for my lips. I tasted her lipstick. I felt her try to make it last longer than was appropriate and grabbed her arms and gently broke the kiss. She got the message.
She wore a little black dress, of a respectable length for work. Traditional pumps. Her hair, makeup and nails were well done. I knew she had her pussy recently waxed.
"You look nice in that dress."
"Thanks, I hoped you'd like it"
We sat on the bar stools and turned towards the bar. She smiled and scooted her stool next to mine so that her body was against mine. The pretty young barmaid with long red hair came over to us. Victoria ordered a rye whiskey.
We sipped our drinks and tried to talk like two adults but she kept breaking into giggles and staring at me as if I weren't real. Her eyes were blue and clear, and they sparkled when she smiled.
Finally, I asked, "Are you properly dressed?"
"It's a special occasion, so I thought I would wear something nice for you."
"Does that include panties? Did you ask permission to wear panties?"
She looked down at her lap between her arms, as both hands wrapped around her drink on the bar.
"Did you ask for my permission to wear panties, Victoria?"
She continued to look down.
"No sir" she whispered.
"Look at me"
She lifted her head, and her face was filled with disappointment.
"I'm sorry Sir. I was only trying..."
"Take them off"
She slid her stool back to stand. I put my hand on her back and stopped her.
"Here"
"What?"
My hand was around her back, along the top of her stool. I slowly slid my hand up her back to her neck, under her shoulder length hair. I grabbed a handful from underneath. A casual observer would think I was rubbing her neck. I tugged on her hair and said,
"Here. Do it right HERE."
Her hands left her drink and went to her lap. I could see her thinking about how she could do it. She pulled the hem of her dress back, high on her thigh. Her left hand was now on the bar for support as her right hand reached under her dress and grabbed the panties on her left side. She gently leaned to the right as she tugged on her panties. After a moment she repeated the process, switching hands and tugging on the right side of her panties.
She stood in front of her stool as if to smooth the front of her dress, and managed in the dim light to slide her hand under her dress and pull her panties down to her knees. She smoothed her dress underneath her ass and sat back on the stool, her panties high on her knees. She simply grabbed the panties and drew them down her legs, leaned forward and stepped out of them, one leg at a time, under the protection of the bar overhang.
She reached for her purse.
"Give them to me"
Her hand went under the bar to pass them to me. I held my hand out in front of her, above the bar.
"In my hand"
She looked around as she squeezed her panties into a ball and pressed them into my hand.
I opened up the black lace panties and held them up between us. A look of fear and shame overcame her.
"DO you wear these without permission?"
