Sylvia waits silently, eyes down, as the server arranges their food on the table. With a cheery, “Enjoy!” she’s gone and Sylvia waits for Daniel to react to her failure.
But “Tell me your thoughts,” he says.
She hangs her head then, food ignored. “Well, you told me to leave my hand on the table, and I didn’t, so I feel bad about that.”
He nods. “Of course you do,” he says. She looks up, he’s smiling. “Submissive girls always feel bad when they fail to obey. If I were your Dom, I would punish you and then you’d feel better.”
Sylvia is overwhelmed with feelings ~ he’d punish her? That should sound horrible, but instead her heart pounds and her face gets warm, her pussy clenches and a shudder runs through her. Now she’s really shocked with herself ~ does she want him to punish her? Sure, she’s read about that before, and maybe it makes her a little bit hot, but really? In real life? Does she, a grown woman, want to be punished?
“What ~ what would you do?” she says.
“For something like that?” he asks, “Like moving your hand away when I told you not to?”
He shakes his head, “Some simple correction. Nothing dramatic or harsh. You didn’t mean to disobey, you were just reacting to your own impulse. I would probably have you put your hand back on the table ~ in fact, go ahead and do that now. Put your hand back where it belongs. Make sure your legs are open too.”
Quickly, she puts her hand, open and relaxed, on the table, uncrosses her ankles and spreads her legs. She is relieved that he’s not angry, and eager to show him her desire to do this right.
“Good girl,” he says, and her pussy throbs. “Then I would ~ well, I might have you leave that hand there for part of the meal, you would only be able to eat with your other hand. Or I might have you say something ~ like, ‘I will obey my Master at all times.” Or maybe make you write lines later.”
“Write lines?” Sylvia is so hot now she can’t believe it. The thought of going to the bathroom and touching herself til she cums ~ just to relieve this tension ~ flashes through her mind, but she pushes that away, she is more interested in what Daniel is saying.
“Writing lines ~ you know, like in school. Write 25 times, “I’m sorry for disobeying, I will do better,’ or something like that. But I won’t do that now. I like that your hand is still on the table though. You are a good girl.”
Again ~ that warm rush of pleasure, joy really, rushes over her. He is not angry or disappointed in her.
“You’re not expected to be perfect, you know,” he says, and she smiles. “Now, ask my permission to move your hand off the table.”
She swallows hard ~ really, she’s going to ask for permission to move her hand? Yes, of course she is, and happily. “Sir, may I move my hand off the table, please?”
“Yes,” he nods solemnly, “Yes, you may. But keep your legs open, please. Now, eat your food.” He waits til she has taken a bite. “Is it good?”
She nods, embarrassed because her mouth is full.
He grins, “Isn’t that supposed to be ‘yes, Sir?'”
But by then she has chewed enough that she can say it, and she does, “Yes, Sir,” with some enthusiasm since it really is delicious.
While they’re eating, he talks about mundane things ~ his work, the last book he read. He asks her about her experiences, and she relaxes. This is more like most of the conversations they’ve had on-line ~ mostly “vanilla,” as they say, just getting to know each other, with the “other stuff” thrown in from time to time. He’s funny and interesting and he seems to think she’s funny and interesting too.
Half-way through the salad she is full. He nods to her plate, “Box?” he asks, and she nods, suddenly realizing the meal is over, the meeting will be too, all too quickly.
“More tea?” he asks, and she nods, “Oh, yes, please. Sir.” Delighted that they are not finished yet.
The server clears the table, brings more hot water. Silently, they watch her box the salad. Then ~
“So,” he says, “Hand back on the table, please.”
Again, that rush of warmth through her body, from her face to her pussy. It is as if she’s come back to full life ~ or gone from black-and-white to color. “Yes, Sir,” she says, placing her hand where it had been before.
He smiles, “Good girl,” then “You were telling me before what it was like for you, when you were reading about spankings and masters and slaves and so on, what did that feel like for you?”
She hesitates, so overwhelmed with what she’s feeling right now that she can’t think about anything else. She needs to think, what can she say ~ “Oh, um, I ~ um,” and then, “I need to ~ you know, bathroom…” She had not realized how much she needed to go until the words come out of her mouth.
He nods, “Of course you may go.” He pauses, leans forward a bit, “but no touching yourself more than necessary. Is that clear?”
“Oh! Yes, no, no, Sir, i won’t,” she says, horrified that he’s telling her this, did he know that she had thought about it and how could he know that?
“Ok, then, off with you. This will give you time to think back too. What did it feel like when you first read about masters spanking their slaves, telling their slaves what to do?”
Sylvia stands, and mumbling, “Yes, Sir, I will, Sir,” flees to the bathroom..