I wasn't quite sure what to think.
I sat in the back of the taxi,twisting my dense brown hair around my fingers--a nervous habit of mine. I had never met a guy online before... especially in a situation like this.
We had met on a fetish website. I had billed myself as someone curious about BDSM, public humiliation and submission in particular. I had never allowed myself to be fully submissive before, and what I had been able to find online fascinated me. I, a woman used to being in control of every aspect, was starting to unravel at the seams. I thought that full submission may be exactly what I needed.
The first several men to message me had seemed creepy, but finally one came up that seemed to... click. He was older--thirty-two to my twenty-two--but unless he was a whiz with Photoshop, he was extremely attractive. He made it very clear that he would only go as far as I was willing and that I could opt out at any time with only a word. Besides the sexual, we really seemed to connect in other ways. We shared a love for Disney movies, bad 80s music, and a little Italian restaurant in our city.
That Italian restaurant wasn't where we were meeting tonight, though; he had instructed me to meet him at an upscale place on the other side of town, somewhere I had never been before. He had suggested my outfit for the night: a form-fitting dress of deep crimson and strappy heels. That had seemed odd to me, but I supposed it was all about submission.
I got out of the cab and stepped into the restaurant. Before I could say a word, the hostess beamed at me. "You must be Mr. Soto's guest," she said brightly. "Come straight with me."
My eyebrows raised, but I followed her. I recognized him before we reached the table: a tan, slender man with dark hair and shockingly blue eyes. He was even sexier than the pictures on the web site had made him out to be.
He smiled at me and stood to pull out my chair. "Lacey. How wonderful to finally meet you." He reached for my hand and kissed my fingertips in a way that had my whole body tingling.
"James," I greeted. "I can't lie. I'm pretty nervous."
He smiled easily. "Don't be. Every single detail is in my hands now. Starting with this one: I'd like you to call me Papa." He laughed at the startled expression on my face. "Remember, Lacey, that if any of this is too much for you, you can step away. No matter how far we go, just tell me you're out and I'll let you go with grace. Now keep in mind that to retreat from part is to retreat from the whole; anything less would put the control in your hands, and that's the opposite of what you want."
I nodded. "I understand... Papa." I had to admit it was strange to me, but I couldn't let it stop here. He was too compelling. This entire idea was too compelling.
Without a word, a faceless waiter brought out white wine and salads with a house dressing before disappearing. "I thought about having this out when you came in," admitted James--I mean, Papa. "But I figured you'd want to watch him pour the drink, as this is our first date. You can't be too careful."
"Thank you," I said with some surprise. "Most guys wouldn't have thought of that."
"I'm not most guys," he answered easily. "You can trust me to take care of absolutely everything. You work from home?"
"Yes," I answered. "I'm a freelance writer for a women's magazine."
"And as such," he surmised, "you don't want word of your being submissive to a man to get out. We can avoid any of your usual haunts. I imagine you'd want to."
"Yes," I said again. "You do think of everything."
"Including the fact that I've packed an overnight bag with all the toiletries you may need, pajamas if you want them, and a change of clothes for tomorrow," he informed me. "You're to come home with me tonight, if you decide to continue our relationship. As this is a new beginning, whether we are intimate tonight will be up to you. Now, the wine is delicious, if you'd like to try some."
Most of the time this would be a huge red flag for me, but somehow I trusted him. And anyway, I had pepper spray in my purse. I nodded.
"Mmm," I said on a sip of wine. It was a far cry from the wine-in-a-box I was used to. I'd had fancier labels before, but this was the best I'd had.
"Drink up," he offered, though somehow I knew it was more of a command. "Have you followed my instructions for our date, Lacey?"
His instructions had been this: I was to avoid using the restroom after noon, and drink at least a bottle of water and a cup of coffee. I was to wear black, lacy (ha ha) underwear and a matching bra with no extra padding (not that my C cup breasts really needed it). I was to keep my nails unpainted and avoid jewelry.
"Yes, Papa," I answered. "Though I have to admit I don't know why you wanted... the part with the drinks and everything."
"Why I wanted you not to use the restroom and to drink more?" he offered, and I nodded, embarrassed a little. "I want you to understand, Lacey, that every aspect of you will be under my direction. Everything from when you eat and sleep to when you use the bathroom, and what you wear. From your description of yourself, you keep your life under strict control. I'm teaching you to let go of all of that, and to let me take the reigns, for as long as you choose."