We had been out to dinner with some friends - just a casual night at a dingy bar. It was more his friends than mine so I really hadn't wanted to go in the first place. Worse than spending an evening with his snooty, high class friends was the fact that I knew I wasn't even getting laid at the end of it. I knew he had to be up early in the morning to get to the airport so I had no intention of going back to his place afterwards or any hope of him coming to mine.
A better boyfriend - someone in a different relationship than ours - would have known that I would be miserable and tried to make it up to me. But he wasn't exactly my boyfriend - that wasn't how our relationship worked. He wanted me there on display so I went: bored and annoyed at having to listen to stupid stories about Finance all night.
More than once that night he whispered to me to stop pouting. It was hard to keep a brave face - I had decided that if I had to be arm candy I would do it right. I had slithered into my tightest jeans for the occasion and if my hoodie was a little "downtown" well then at least it was designer. One of the perks of dating a successful, dominant man was that sometimes the things he dressed me in were really nice.
This late at night though the tight jeans were starting to bite into my hips and the "designer" zippers all over the top were annoying me. After four or five drinks, and a seemingly endless story from one of his coworkers about derivatives (seriously, what even are those) I worked up the courage to ask him to leave. He was a little put out at having to leave the bar but nodded his agreement.
He had a Lexus out front but I held out no hope that he would drive me all the way back to my crappy apartment. I got the sense that he planned to dump me and head right back to the bar, regardless of the fact that meant leaving me at the train station in a somewhat sketchy area. You take what you can get though.
We rode over in silence. I knew he was disappointed in my behavior. I was supposed to be his trophy twink, smiling at his friends and laughing at their dumb jokes. Well I hadn't been in the mood...and damnit I wasn't even getting sex for my trouble. He glanced over at me with a stern look - I wasn't exactly defiant back (that would get me more of a spanking than I wanted right now) but I wasn't contrite either.
When we got to the station it was late so the place was practically abandoned. He surprised me by pulling into the parking garage - I couldn't imagine why, if he was just dropping me off. It's not like he was going to ride the crappy train into the city with me.
If I was surprised by the garage I was shocked when he actually got out, walked around the car, and opened the door for me. He could be "Gentlemanly" on occasion but this was way out of his MO, especially given how I acted. I took my hoodie under my arm and felt for his hand - he had parked in a darkened corner of the garage and I had to search a bit before I found him.
I stepped out and muttered a baffled "thank you" when he spun me around and put my hands on the car. He pushed me over the hood, my hoodie sliding off to the ground.
"You were kind of a little shit tonight." He said...but not overly harshly. "I expect you to have better manners in the future."
I shivered a bit as I stood pressed up against the vehicle. He had never flaunted our power dynamics in public before and, even as deserted as this place was, I was a little daunted by the display. I always loved his strong masculine style (that's why we were together after all) but I tensed up a bit at this escalation.
