Out to lunch alone, nose buried in a book, I almost didn't notice someone trying to get my attention.
"Uh, excuse me, miss?" He reached out with a gentle tap on my shoulder.
I jumped, squeaked, and immediately turned beet red as I looked up to meet startlingly blue eyes. He was tall, and had dark hair, greying at the temples. His face was covered with light stubble, his smile at my startling made his eyes crinkle delightfully in the corners.
I stammered, almost dropped my book in my soup and said, "Yes?"
"I couldn't help but notice you were reading one of my favorite books. Also, you left your wallet at the register," he added with a laugh as he handed the blue leather pocketbook over to me.
I smiled, looked down slightly, and said "Thank you. That is very kind of you. Most people wouldn't do that."
"I have a knack for finding lost things. Can I join you?"
I nearly choked on my own saliva. He was ridiculously hot. And he wanted to sit with me. What. The. Hell.
"Oh! Sure, if you'd like!" A nervous laugh bubbled up from my throat and I tried not to be too obvious in staring at him.
"So, you clearly have good taste in reading material, what else do you like to read?"
My nervousness dissipated as book chat flowed between us effortlessly, ebulliently. I let it slip that two of my favorite books were Henry and June and The Story of O and quickly moved on to fantasy books. I saw his eyebrows raise in a flicker and my stomach dropped, but he didn't miss a beat, talking broadswords and knights like he knew how to role play. (I mean with medieval weaponry, obviously.)
I glanced at my watch and gasped. "Oh my goodness it's way past my lunch hour! I need to get back to work. It was nice chatting!" I scooped up my stuff with one hand and went to wave goodbye in a panic with the other, when he grabbed my free hand gently and said "You know, I think we might have more in common than just books. Can I take you out later?"
Again, I flushed red, nodded, and gave him my phone number. "I'm free tomorrow night."
I dressed modestly for the evening. Not that I had any choice, really. I only dress modestly. Cardigans, skirts, glasses - the whole librarian-esque nine yards. When you've got a DD chest, anything but a turtleneck gives you cleavage. Modest is your only hope for work appropriateness. On a hope, on a whim, I wore my black, push-up lace bra and no panties. Instead of mousy tights, black thigh highs, clipped up and held in place by a matching garter belt. Worst case scenario, saucy underthings give me the confidence I need to get through the night, right? Right.
I hailed a taxi and sped through the city to the tapas restaurant he wanted to meet at. It pulled up to the entrance, and I saw him standing on the sidewalk by the door, already waiting for me. Slowly, deliberately, I stepped out of the taxi and let my skirt slide up a little bit so that the lace top of the stocking peeked out a little bit. I looked up and his eyes were dark, locked on my legs, with something hungry in them.
Butterflies of fear and lust and desire danced through my stomach. It had been so long since I had felt this way. How intimidating, how unbelievably irresistible.
I walked up and awkwardly waved hello, and in response, he smiled warmly and took me by the hand and led me in to the building. The salsa music was loud and patrons were talking even louder.
"I'm going to order for the two of us, I hope you don't mind. Though, something tells me you are quite amenable to it."
I smiled. "I usually like it when I don't have to worry about things like that, and everybody's happy with the outcome."
"Ah, a people pleaser. A people pleaser who likes The Story of O. I bet you'd look beautiful with a leather collar around your throat."
I flushed red across my cheeks and my chest. I smiled, almost defiantly. The game was on. "It's been a very long time since I've done anything like that. Plus, I have to say I am quite picky about partners. I find that not everybody can inspire, ah, how do I put this? Obedience, I guess, in me?"
"I get a feeling from you that you're stuck in your head, in your daydreams and books. I bet if your partner knew how to get in there, make space for obedience, for their commands and desires, you'd turn into an eager, willing little girl, wouldn't you?" He tapped his fork for effect, punctuating the last few words of his sentence.
I felt my pussy get hot and wet and swollen all at once. Oh, fuck me. My cunt ached and I'd only known this man a few hours. God help me.
A little overcome, I could barely speak, so I just nodded, a pained look on my face.
"You need someone to give you a reason to be a very good girl, don't you?"
I nodded again, and whispered "Yes".
"Yes, what? And louder."
"Yes, sir, please." I said, swallowing hard, with a little more conviction in my voice.
"Tell me what you want, little girl."
Another warm gush between my legs. I began to evade, shyly. "Well. I... Uh, hmm. How do I put this?"
"Go on. Tell me."
"I want to be dominated. I want to be claimed, forcefully. I want to be owned and collared. I want to be spanked and gagged and cum on." My eyes were wide, almost shocked at what I said. I was flushed pink from the humiliation of being made to say the filthy things I've always wanted aloud. Always thought, never spoken.
He smiled, wolflike, and murmured, "Good girl."
Oh, how I wanted those things. Every word, truthful. My skin itched for the bite of a cane, I lusted after nipple clamps. I touched myself at night thinking about being bound and stuffed with cock. Even now, I think he knew just how badly I wanted it, how I wanted him.
I hardly noticed the bill being paid when he invited me to his place.
"Yes, please, please." Just shy of a beg and he hadn't even touched me yet. My tiny thread of self-control slipping away quicker and quicker.
Another taxi ride through the city, but this time his hand was firmly gripping my hair, whispering instructions in my ear. A secret just for me to hear.