Part 1
Tonight was the night. The night of his “coming out,” she thought. But he had no idea. She had been looking forward to this day for quite some time, and the closer to the day the more difficulty she had sorting her thoughts, and the harder it had become to ignore the incessant needful ache down below.
Her makeup, clothes, jewelry and perfume were perfect. All chosen just for this night. Her dark hair was pulled back, almost severely, but the severity was more than tempered by her delicately feminine features. Her lips and nails were her favorite Chanel red. Her dress was a sleeveless form-fitting mid-thigh-length black silk. Her open-toed heels were strappy, her feet perfectly pedicured, and under her dress a black satin bullet bodysuit and black sheer stay up stockings from Fleur du Mal. Purely predatory, she thought.
They had decided, rather, she had guided them, to have a pre-dinner cocktail at the bar of a new boutique hotel that had recently opened. She was consumed with an excited arousal as they were seated, but didn’t let on.
She took his hand and spoke as they sat—
“You do know that I love you—more than anything?”
“Yes, of course, and I love you too.”
“Very well then. Here goes.””
“I know your secret.”
“What? What secret?”
She hands him a small flat pink box. He looks at her uncomprehendingly. Her eyes bear into his.
“Open it..”
He opens the box to find slightly perfumed folded white tissue paper. He pulls back the tissue.
He blushes furiously.
“Panties?”
“Yes. Panties. And a lovely shade of pink, don’t you think?”
“Yes, but … .”
She cuts him off.
“Put them on!”
“Put them on? Here? Now?”
“Yes, sweetheart. Now. We passed the men’s room on the way in. Excuse yourself. And do not bring back the underwear you’re wearing when you return.”
He hesitates, wondering if she is serious. Her eyes tell him that she is. Unmistakably serious.
“Go! Now! I’m not asking you, I am telling you. And don’t make me say it again.”
He rises, and finds his way to the bathroom. Once in the stall, he awkwardly takes off his shoes, pulls down his pants and boxer shorts, slides the panties up his legs, and puts his pants and shoes back on. He then throws away his boxer shorts and returns—noticeably flustered and blushing furiously.
“Happy now?”
“Yes, thank you. And our waitress giggled at your erection while you were returning to the table.”
He flushes an even deeper pink.
He had yielded, submitted, just as it had been written.
“Now what are we going to do about that erection?”
“Uh, well, it will go down. I’m sure. Just give it a few minutes.”
“Okay. Let me know when it does.”
An awkward silence follows.
“I’m waiting.”
“It’s almost there.”
More silence.
“There. Done. All gone.”
“Good. Now what are we going to do to keep that from happening again?”
“I don’t know. But it probably won’t do it again. I’m pretty sure.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“But … .”
She takes a small box from her pocketbook.
Handing it to him—
“Put this on—again in the bathroom, and bring me the key.”
He looks in the box—“But how did you … ? And why … ?”
“That’s not your concern. Your concern should be not pissing me off!”
He knows she’s serious.
“Very well.”
He excuses himself and returns a few minutes later with the key. He hands her the key.
“Thank you.”
“But … .”
“No buts. Shush.” (Holding a single finger to her lips.) “Nod if you understand.”
He nods.
“Good boy. Or should i say ‘good girl’?”
It had begun. But it had taken a while to get to this point.
Part 2
It had started slowly and tentatively.
He had been in line to place his order at a restaurant counter trying to figure out what he was in the mood for. The steak sandwich was always good. But he wasn’t terribly hungry and it was a lot to have for lunch. So he opted for the goat cheese and arugula salad. Good choice. He ordered and sat and waited to be served at one of the restaurant’s small tables.
He was a Wednesday regular at this place. Not every Wednesday, but maybe twice a month. Their Wednesday specials were among his favorites.
While he was waiting he noticed that the girl was there too. Dark haired, strikingly pretty, always by herself, always reading a book. Never in a hurry.
She was there every second or third time he went. He supposed that she must be a Wednesday specials fan too. He watches as the waitress delivers the same salad to her.
“Pretty, and with good taste,” he thinks.
He returns his attention to his phone.
Time passes.
A couple of weeks later, at a wine tasting, he sees her again. She’s dressed for the occasion. Very nice.
He was there by himself, at the insistence of the friends, husband and wife, who were hosting the event. “You need to get out more,” they said. The wine and food offerings were both good, and he knew many of the people there.
As he was having his glass filled with an excellent red, he found himself standing next to her—the girl. He felt the need to say something—
“Aren’t you the girl from Ted’s?”
He kicks himself. Awkward start.
“Ted’s? The sandwich shop? Yes. I go there from time to time. Why do you ask?”
“I’ve seen you there. Several times in fact. Always reading. Last time you ordered their goat cheese salad. I did too! My name is Jim.”
“I’m Sarah. Nice to meet you. “
He found himself flirting with her. What had come over him?
“The pleasure is mine, Sarah.”
The hostess is watching Jim and Sarah. Sarah’s body language tells the hostess that she’s interested. Jim notices that Sarah is not wearing a ring. Maybe fair game? But he has to do better than he started off doing.
“Are you from the area Sarah”
“No. But I’ve been here a while. You?
“Came down from New York about seven years ago—never going back. You here by yourself?”
“Sorta. My roommate is my ‘date.’ The invitation was for a plus one, and I like the couple hosting.”
“I do too. They are good friends.”
He is rallying.
Just then an equally attractive blonde comes up to them.
“Excuse me Sarah, I had forgotten about something I promised to do tonight for work. Hope you don’t mind, but I do need to get back to the house.”
“That’s fine, and I’m about ready to go too. But let me introduce you. Jim, this is Kim. My roommate. Kim, this is Jim. He and I share an appreciation for Ted’s.”
“Hello Kim!”
“Hi Jim!”
“I’m really sorry to be stealing Sarah from you. Maybe another time?”
“Yes, that would be nice. Pleasure, ladies.”
As they leave, he and Sarah realize that they hadn’t gotten each other’s contact information.
“Maybe a little soon, anyway,” thinks Jim.
Part 3
The hostess had watched Jim and Sarah with great interest. Jim’s wife, her best friend from college, had passed away a few years back after a short but painful illness, leaving Jim devastated, heartbroken and alone. He had thrown himself into his work, but otherwise had withdrawn. She worried for him.
And she had a fondness for Sarah as well. But thought it a pity that Sarah hadn’t seemed to have been able to find the right guy.
Seeing them together planted a seed. What if she arranged for a “blind” date, possibly to help matters along? It couldn’t hurt.
As for Sarah, she didn’t fully appreciate the physical effect her interaction with Jim had on her until she sat down in the front seat of her car—feeling swollen and more than a little wet between her legs as she did. Most unanticipated. “This is a good job for Kim!” she thought, and smiled. Once Kim finished her work project Kim’s “real” work would begin. Sarah would be sure to lock Kim’s collar on her when they got home so Kim would know that it was going to be one of “those” nights.
Kim had noticed Sarah’s reaction to Jim, and though she felt an initial pang of jealousy, she was happy for Sarah—hoping Sarah may have found the guy to compete her life. She had no fear of losing Sarah—they had been lovers for too long. But unlike her (Kim liked only girls), Sarah seemed to need something from a male that Kim knew she couldn’t provide. She had always been submissive to Sarah, at some times more than others, and always would be. She knew in her heart that Sarah would also always need what only a submissive female lover could provide. She felt secure in her place.
Kim’s suspicions were confirmed the moment she got home and her collar closed around her neck with a familiar “click.” She knew Sarah “needed” something, and was happy to oblige.
It was not that Sarah had envisioned when Kim moved in to Sarah’s as a roommate the power dynamic that had evolved. In fact, given her upbringing and sheltered early life, Sarah had no idea that such relationships existed. Nor had Sarah ever been with another female before. It all just kind of happened—almost instinctively as to Sarah. She was a born sexual dominant, at least when it came to girls.
Kim, on the other hand, had a weakness for strong women, particularly in the bedroom, and had moved into Sarah’s house with eyes wide open. Her first kiss from Sarah had sealed her fate. As would be expected, given her sexual preferences, Kim’s submissiveness did not carry over to her interactions with men, most of whom came to be careful of or fear her male-directed uncompromising tendencies.
It was a blissful night.