The Meeting

It’s not what she expected – the bar.  She’d been thinking it would be a fancy kind of place, but this is more of a family bar and restaurant.  Almost homey.

She recognizes him from his picture.  Well, and he has the look – you know, the look of someone waiting for someone they don’t already know.  Will he recognize her?

But she has the look too, so of course he does, he stands up and smiles, watching her walk toward him.

“Sylvia?” he says.

“Yes.  Daniel?”  He nods and steps forward, offers a handshake.  His hand is much larger than hers, just as he’s much taller than she is.  She feels tiny next to him.

And self-conscious.  She has dressed carefully, not sure what to expect, but now she wishes she hadn’t gone with such a demure look.  A little bit sexier, maybe some cleavage, might have been better.  Too late to worry about it now though.

He gestures to the hostess, who quickly directs them to a table.  A booth.  He waits for her to slide in and hesitates.  For a second, she thinks he’s going to slide in next to her, but he seats himself across from her.

“I’m glad you decided to meet me,” he says.  “I’ve enjoyed talking to you on-line and getting to know you a little bit, but this is much better.  Are you nervous?”

“Oh, yes!” she says, then, afraid she’s been rude, she adds, “A little bit.”

“A lot, I’d say,” he says, laughing.  “That’s ok.  You have plenty of reason to be nervous, and there’s no point in me telling you not to be. ”

The server arrives with two glasses of water and menus.  “We’ll need a few minutes,” Daniel says.

Sylvia sips the water, starts to open the menu, but Daniel puts his hand on the menu to stop her.  Startled, she looks up.

“Let’s review what we’re doing,” he says.

The butterflies in Sylvia’s stomach are dancing now as she looks at him.  This is what she’d wanted, and now she’s excited and scared and ~ he is so calm and in control.  “Yes?” she says, not meaning it to be a question.

“We agreed,” he says, “that this would be a practice run – that we would have lunch together as if you were sure you’re submissive.  As if you thought you might want to be my submissive – as if I thought I might want to be your Dominant.  Correct?”


He smiles.  “So we start with basics.  I’ll be in control of the meal today.  Do you have any food allergies, or any food you can’t eat.?”

Sylvia shakes her head, “No, not really.”

“Then I’ll be in charge of ordering for both of us.  Next.  For today, just to see what it feels like, you will address me as Sir.  So the correct answer to that question was, ‘No, not really, Sir.’  Go ahead and say it correctly, please.”

Sylvia feels her mouth go dry.  She licks her lips, and then feels self-conscious about that.  She can barely breathe, but she forces the words out, “Um, no, not really ~ um, Sir.”

He laughs.  “Not bad” he says.  “Try it again – wait, I’ll cue you this time.  Do you have any food allergies, or food you can’t eat?”

And somehow Sylvia manages to say it smoothly this time, “No, not really, Sir.”

He smiles.  “Good girl.  Go ahead and take a sip of your water.”

Obediently, she sips, and has to smile when he immediately says, “good girl.”  Something about those words make her feel warm.  But then ~

“Now, uncross your legs,” he says.

Startled, she uncrosses them automatically, and he says, “Yes, good.  How does that make you feel?”  She doesn’t know how to answer that, she shakes her head uncertainly.

“Right,” he says.  “That’s a lot of question.  How does it feel to be told what to do?”

“It feels scary,” she says, adding quickly, “Scary, Sir.”

“Just scary?”

“Well.  Um.  Um, you know.”  She doesn’t want to tell him it turns her on, but the heat between her legs is intense.  He waits, watching her curiously.  “It ~ um,” she looks down at the table, one finger tracing the circle of water her glass has made, “it, um, kind of, well, it kind of turns me on.”

He nods.  “I thought it might.  That’s really good.  That will make it easier for you to be obedient.”

When he says that, “obedient,” in those tones, her pussy throbs and she blushes.

“Now,” he says, “One more thing and we’ll order some lunch.  Open your legs.”

“What?” she gasps, sure she’s misunderstood.

“Open your legs,” he says, a bit stern.  “No one can see you under this booth – I can’t even see you under this booth.  But I want you to learn to be open to me, and this is a good way to begin.  Do it now.”  Hie is pleasant and firm.  “Open your legs.”

“Ye-es, Sir.”  And she does it.  Slowly, still hesitant, but she opens her legs.  She is wet, and more aware of it now.

“Good girl,” he says, smiling.  “I’m not going to touch you while we’re here, but before we’re done, I’m going to tell you to touch your own nipples for me.  Not now,” he adds quickly, as if he were concerned that she would do it too soon.  “But before we’ve finished lunch, I’m going to ask you to do that.  Touch your nipples until they’re hard.  Just thought I would warn you.”

Her nipples begin to tingle at the idea, which makes her pussy throb and she lowers her head, but “Look at me,” he says.  She raises her eyes and “That makes you hot, doesn’t it?” he says.

Embarrassed, but honest, “Yes.  Yes, Sir, it does.”

14 thoughts on “The Meeting

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