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“Other than the rumors, I have a friend that’s seen you at Tethers.”
“A friend with a loose mouth. That is a private club.”
“I understand that.” She jumps in as though she needs to defend herself. “And I don’t think she goes there anymore. I have a feeling her loose mouth cost her a lot with the man that brought her. She’s been trying to get back in the scene for months without much success. Oh! But I wouldn’t worry, she had little to say about you except that you were there looking quite ruthless—though that ruthlessness didn’t seem to be focused on any one person.”
“Delia,” I interrupt. “If the whole world knew my sexual inclinations I wouldn’t care.”
“You wouldn’t?”
“I don’t shout them from the rooftops, but I’m not going to be embarrassed by them.”
“It always seems like a deep secret to me,” she begins to blush as I’ve seen her blush before. I find it charming. I worry only that she’s too much like Anna when I first met her.
“Don’t worry, I intend to keep your activities a secret.” She seems relieved, but her anxiety doesn’t go away and as she fidgets with her coffee cup, I’m afraid she’s going to spill it. “Tell me what fascinates you about S&M?”
She stares away, eyeing the crowd around us, then turns back. “You’re purposely making this hard.” I can see her lip trembling.
“Am I?” I reply. If I’ve been kind so far, it’s only to keep her from panic. But turning aloof now, I put some distance between us as master and initiate, and keep her apprehensions fresh. “Just answer the question, Delia. Focus on me, look at me. Forget who’s around you. Trust me, they’re lost in their worlds and don’t care about ours. What you say they could hardly hear, and if they strain that much, perhaps they should know. They’ll get an education. Now part your thighs for me and answer the question.”
Her eyes grow wide as she hears her first real command, but I sense her exalting in her surrender as she follows my instruction.
She starts reluctantly. “It—S&M—has been in my thoughts for some years. At first, it was just a simple little fantasy of being tied. Then these other things began to appear. And when I…” She pauses and the blush on her face expands. “When I masturbate, these scenes start popping up out of nowhere. I imagine all sorts of things happening to me.” Her eyes are glued to mine as though we swim in our own world. I keep my distance in attitude but all that I desire for myself begins to creep into my system arousing what fascinates me most. For a time I couldn’t keep my mind from Anna when my darker impulses began to appear, but now I’m imagining Delia in bondage, and I’m satisfied that I’m turning the last corner in distancing myself from my wife.
“What does “all sorts of things” mean?”
The energy between us intensifies. Her body is ablaze—her eyes steamy, her lips wet. She’s panting softly as her ass starts to sway against her seat. Perhaps she doesn’t realize how this turns her on as she wiggles her cunt into the red vinyl chair.
“There are,” she hesitates, “whips, long slender ones. I imagine they bite, but I don’t know exactly because I’ve never felt one against my skin. And… you want me to go on?” She perspires a bit on her upper lip.
“In detail, and unbutton your jacket.”
She sighs, her chest heaving so her breasts jiggle again and the silk shimmies over the top. She wears no bra; so as she unbuttons her jacket, I see her nipples begin to tighten into knots underneath the delicate chemise. “Sometimes I have ropes tied across my chest, my breasts strangely contorted. I lie on a rack, strung to four corners, I bow at the feet of a man who stands over me. Sometimes he wears black riding boots and jodhpurs, other times the clothes of an old English Baron, sometimes the leather pants of a biker. There’s incense in the air—except the times I’m in a forest. And then recently I’m in a high-rise—like the office—in fact…” she falters with her voice no more than a whisper, “your office, tied over a chair or to bolts in the wall. Last night… I was stretched to the four corners of your desk, on the marble top. The cold of it climbed inside me, while you heated my ass with a strap.” She sighs. “This is so embarrassing.” Her concentration wavers, and she stares around again, suspecting that the eyes of all the patrons are fixed on her.
“Take off your jacket, and open your legs a littler wider. And please go on.”
She jogs her coffee cup just enough so some spills into the saucer. She pushes it away hardly having drunk much.
“Your stomach unsettled?” I ask.
“Yes, it is.” She struggles to remove her jacket aware how obvious her breasts become with nothing but the silk to cover them. Each move to comply with my orders makes her more jittery and me more aroused. These first moments with a submissive are some of the most divine I can create. Delia is as natural as any young woman I know. She parts her legs and her skirt rises while she worries if anyone in the room will notice. “I… um…” each word becomes a struggle. She has no idea how exhilarating this will feel when she’s done. Confessions like these are good for the soul. “I have so many thoughts that just swim through me, but no experience.”
“None?”
“Little.”
“Tell me about what little experience you’ve had.”
She bites her lip so hard I wonder if it will bleed. Exposure is a mean sword.
“A boyfriend—a few months ago. I asked if he’d bind my hands to the headboard of my bed.”
“And did he?”
She smiles, “Yes.”
“What did that feel like?”
“Like I wasn’t getting enough. All he did was make love to me like a school kid and we ended up laughing.”
