Graham the Nude Waiter ...
or Adventures in the New Ritz Poodle Dog Club
The whole fabric of human existence is that of domination and submission.
- Friedrich Nietzsche
This note, along with a fully nude picture of Graham, was slipped beneath Louisa's napkin on a previous visit to the Poodle Dog. You know the place, right? The New Ritz Poodle Dog Club was established in 1889 at its original location on Post Street. Of course, the club had been relocated off Castro and 20th Street, just three blocks from the Castro Theater, after the horrific 1906 earthquake.
The Club was an elegant, but genuine Victorian facade; the only sign of the business establishment within was a brass plate outside the wrought iron gate in Gothic script announcing The New Ritz Poodle Dog Club. Lou usually had dessert there, once or twice a year, with her two best girl-chums Janice and Nancy. She went there as a special treat to herself, perhaps as a reward for 'good' behavior or for having received particular kudos from her boss at City Hall.
Graham had been the waiter assigned to serve her and her girlfriends late one evening soon after the first of the year, and he was obviously intrigued by Louisa from the first moment he laid eyes on her. It was a mutual attraction the moment Louisa heard his gently chipped English ascent. She was a sucker for that reserved, upper crust British accent.
She had been in a rare pissy mood that night, impatient, cranky and overly demanding; on recollection Lou thought she might even have bordered on rude, she recalled with a shrug. Oh, well, her waiter had been like a puppy dog, begging for more abuse. Ready to lap up any slight or sarcastic remark she cared to dish out to him. Lou knew she aroused him, his cock thickening, though never reaching erection.
Besides giving him a worthy tip; Louisa had slipped him her personal card, with her name and e-mail address on it, and the on-line IM server she frequented. She did not know if she would be hearing from him, but she had sincerely hoped that she might. His demeanor and his gorgeous blond locks intrigued her. But so had his long bullet shaped, uncircumcised phallus. His cock was rather unique, as if there was no helmet at all. The long shaft was nearly uniformly the same width all the way up to where it abruptly curved in the smooth point tipped by his rather prominent slit.
A detailed and appropriately subservient e-mail was waiting for Lou the very next morning, when she had booted up her computer. He was not only charming, handsome, gorgeous, well hung (boy, did Lou ever have the eyewitness evidence to appreciate that), but he was witty and cleaver and amazingly articulate about himself and his nasty little sexual urges.
Through his e-mail, Graham immediately offered himself in total submission as her slut boy. It was a goal he had been craving for some time and Lou was his natural dominator. He recognized her as such. It would certainly explain his particular choice of employment venues, would it not?
Then in March, Louisa's resistance to his charms faltering; she broke down and returned to The Club to let him serve her again. She did not forewarn him, but she had been very sure to make her reservation for a table at his station. He did not show the least surprise when the maitre'd escorted her to one of his tables. Their eyes flirted and devoured each other in that moment.
His last IM chat invaded Louisa's thoughts as he personally served her:
"My Lady, regarding our situation? I am aroused constantly. I am loving every minute of my job. How many shy girls and gay men come into my club, that I should finally come across My Lady is a true blessing. A dream come true. And you know just where my dreams take me."
"I love talking dirty to you and I hope you are enjoying it as much as I am."
"If I feel uncomfortable I will let you know. I truly love all the stuff you have mentioned and I would be willing to try pretty much anything. Anything. Try me. Please."
"I need to have my sexual parameters tested and pushed, I love sex and love it even more when others enjoy and take pleasure from it. I don't want a brief fling; I need development of my perverse fantasies and fetishes and have so much to give you in return."
He e-mailed Louisa a picture of his erect penis, which she kept in her pocketbook and slipped out for a peek during the business day. Yummy yum yum. He was uncircumcised, but extremely long and well formed, with a smooth torpedo shaped head. His pubic hair sparse as light skinned blonds often are, but not actually shaved. Dreams of his nude body never failed to arouse her titties. She could hardly wait to take him home for a 'play' date.
The New Ritz Poodle Dog Club was always called 'new' to distinguish it from the original 1889 establishment that had served it's elegant Victorian clientele of nouveau riche matrons and their pretentious daughters of the post-gold rush elite of feminine San Francisco society.
After the 1906 earthquake destroyed the original Ritz Poodle Dog and its well-heeled environs. The owners felt the city's moral would appreciate their decision to rebuild the tea salon. So, with the importation of great quantities of Tiffany glass lamps and wall sconces, copious quantities of purple and red French velvets to line the walls and hang over the eight high windows, the shipment of Waterford crystal to grace the tables and Lladro figurines from Iberia to inhabit the recessed alcoves; the new club was renovated and re-established on 20th Street in 1922 , WWI intervened on the original timetable.
The long re-established New Ritz Poodle Dog, with it's reputation for muted elegance had traveled the world over. But in these modern times the Poodle Dog had drifted into gentile poverty over the many generations since it's re-establishment after the first World War but had been dealt a virtual death blow by the social upheavals and class rebellions of the 1960s.