— Alan —
The next day was Thursday. I woke early after a night of odd, half-formed dreams. I didn’t even know what she looked like, I didn’t know what her voice was like, but I was dreaming about her. In my dreams she had long black hair and flashing, exotic eyes. Her voice was like honey. And… Man, I hate dreams, I never remember the best details.

Work was hectic. It’s always hectic. I rescheduled my day to get out by 5:00, which meant I was actually out the door at 5:20. Enough time to get home, change quickly and get to the restaurant.

At home, I changed into a suit and tie. I had a purple Jerry Garcia tie I love, and I was actually looking forward to wearing it.

— Valeria —
I fretted all day. Last night it had all seemed so clear. Even when I’d written the advertisement, it had seemed clear. But now reality sunk in. I had no idea what I was doing.

What was Alan expecting? I shudder to guess. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t expecting what I had to offer.

Society has this image of dominant women. Well, multiple images. Some of them involve the B-word. More of them involve leather and whips.

Was Alan expecting some corset-clad dominatrix? That is so not me.

I just… like having things my way. I’ve tried the traditional relationships and even the very traditional relationships. I’ve let the man assume control. I’ve tried relationships where we’re equal partners. The first was always a disaster, and the second was more of a disaster.

Sometimes my boyfriends have been very adventurous in bed. I tried to indulge their fantasies. That’s what you do, right? To be fair, for the most part they also did their best to indulge me. But no matter what happened in the bedroom, once we left, they always thought they should be the one behind the wheel, the one to hold the clicker.

But that advertisement. Why did I write that advertisement?

— Alan —
I parked and was in front of the restaurant 7 minutes early. I hate being late to anything. It always leaves me frazzled. And when I’m running late, my driving suffers as I attempt to make up for lost time. So I was early.

I was nervous. I don’t know why. I’ve certainly had dates before. Most recently wasn’t that long ago. Eight months isn’t that long, is it?

I tried not to pace the sidewalk.

— Valeria —
I was early. I didn’t want to be early. I wanted Alan to be waiting for me when I arrived so I could check him out before I even parked.

I drove past the restaurant. There were a few people on the sidewalk, but only one of them was male and clearly waiting for someone. How could I tell? He glanced at his watch as I drove past then scanned the sidewalk in both directions. He was dressed in a suit, but I didn’t get much of a glimpse of his tie to be sure it was he. I was going to have to park and check him out by foot.

Maybe it was good if he was expecting a leather-clad dominatrix. He wouldn’t recognize me.

— Alan —
Why is it when we’re meeting someone, but we don’t know what the person looks like, we still peer intently at everyone to see if she is the person we’re meeting? Everyone ignored me and hurried past, either down the road or several into the restaurant.

— Valeria —
I took a deep breath and got out of the car, pulling my coat around me. Underneath I was wearing a red dress, but the September evening was chilly. My boot heels made clicking noises on the pavement.

When I said I wasn’t wearing leather, I meant I wasn’t wearing strictly leather. I loved those boots.

As I turned the corner, I applied a blank face. If the gentleman in the suit was wearing a purple tie and a frightening countenance, I didn’t want him to recognize me. He had his back turned away, so I checked him out.

Not too bad. Hard to tell under the suit, but it seemed he’d been fair when he described himself. I had several seconds to scope him out while I walked in his direction. He looked comfortable in the suit, not fussing at it like someone does when wearing unfamiliar clothing. As I got closer, my boots heralded my approach, and he turned to face me.

— Alan —
I heard the sound of heels against sidewalk and turned to face the approaching woman. My breath caught in my throat.

If this woman is Valeria, I’m way out of my league.

— Valeria —
My first thought when he turned around was simple. I wanted this man. I then experienced something I’ve never had before. I had a series of images flash before me: Alan underneath me, silk wrapped around his wrists; Alan kneeling in front of me; Alan’s tongue inside me.

I felt myself start to flush.

I don’t believe in love at first sight.

Lust, on the other hand, lust I had bad.

— Alan —
“I love the tie, Alan,” she said to me, holding out her hand. I shook automatically, but then she continued to hold my hand, her left coming up to cup the back of my neck. She pulled my head down while leaning towards me, kissing my cheek. After the kiss, she whispered quietly in my ear, “You don’t need to be so nervous.”

Before I could protest, she’d released me and entered the restaurant, ruining my chance to chivalrously hold the door. I followed on her heels.

Once inside, she looked over her shoulder at me and said, “Take my coat,” starting to shrug out of it. I caught it before it could fall, and she gestured towards the coat check on the right.

I caught up to her at the maitre-de’s station.

— Valeria —
I was pleased with my attempts to hide my blush; I don’t think Alan noticed. I decided immediately I was going to have him. I could tell by the way he looked at me I could have him using a more traditional approach, but I wanted him on my terms, and I wanted to set the ground rules from the beginning.

And of course, the best defense is a good offense.

— Alan —
I couldn’t believe she wouldn’t let me have the menu! She whisked it away from me before we were even completely seated, then asked a few generic questions about my food preferences. The waiter arrived to take a drink order, but she ordered both our meals with barely a glance in my direction.

— Valeria —
Poor Alan. He was too shocked to stop me. I hadn’t planned that, and watching his mouth gaping open, I thought I might have overplayed things. I don’t think he would have been any more shocked if I’d started undressing in the middle of the restaurant.

And this so wasn’t me. Or didn’t seem like it. But my mind kept flashing images in front of me, and with each one I grew increasingly sure of what I wanted.

For this to play the way I wanted, he needed to be kept off balance and nervous, but no so nervous he ran away.

— Alan —
“Give me your hand,” she said.

The demand broke me out of my silent shock. “Why?” I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. She was intelligent and lovely, and I could feel myself reacting to her, but I wasn’t used to being pushed around like this, and I wasn’t sure I liked it.

If she was like this already, what would she be like if I let her get her hooks into me. She didn’t say anything when I asked why. She just softly smiled, her left hand resting on the table, palm turned up. I stared at her while she waited. Her smile never faltered; her gaze never wavered. She simply waited.

I looked down at her hand as it rested invitingly on the table. Her fingers were long and delicate, her skin looked soft and inviting.

— Valeria —
When he balked and said “Why”, I knew I’d pushed him pretty hard. I smiled, unsure what I could to do convince him it was safe to trust me, that I wouldn’t hurt him.

I really wanted to touch him, to feel his strength.

To feel his surrender.

We continued to stare at each other silently. While still smiling, I mentally began to compose a speech. Something along the lines of, “Alan, I’m not a bitch.” No, that’s not it. “Alan, I really like you.” Eww. “Alan, I want to climb over there and rip your clothes off, right here, right now.”

Well, it was the truth.

Then he dropped his gaze to my hand held out waiting for his. I stopped composing. When he placed his hand in mine, everything else that had been going on my head was replaced with one simple thought.

Mine!

— Alan —
Her fingers wrapped around mine, her hand on the bottom, mine cupped over it. She looked down then reached over with her other hand and with just her index finger began lightly tracing designs on the back of my hand. Her eyes came back to mine, and she spoke.

I have no idea what she asked me. It just felt so nice to be touched.

— Valeria —
Mine!

— Alan —
Dinner was fabulous. I think. I don’t remember.

She turned my hand over eventually and slipped her fingers inside my shirt to touch my wrist, lightly, so lightly.

— Valeria —
Dinner was lovely. I probed Alan’s mind until the food arrived. Simple things to start. Where he grew up, what he wanted to be when he was a kid, that sort of thing. He spoke intelligently and confidently, even able to tell a story many would be too embarrassed to admit.

Reluctantly, I let him have his hand back when the food arrived. But once we’d eaten and the plates had been taken away, I didn’t have to say anything. I set my hand on the table and he immediately gave me his.

— Alan —
“Would you be so kind as to order dessert for us?” she asked.

I scanned the dessert menu. “We’re sharing?” I asked her. She nodded. “Tiramisu?” I said after a moment. She smiled.

— Valeria —
If there’s any desert that’s my weakness, it’s a well-prepared tiramisu.

I waited until the second bite was in his mouth before I asked him, “What did you think about the reading I assigned last night?”

— Alan —
I froze then swallowed. I used the napkin to buy myself some time, dabbing at my lips, then took some water.

“I don’t know,” I finally admitted. “The entire idea seems a bit contrived. “

—- Valeria —
I felt myself frowning, even though I was expecting a reserved response from him. “You responded to my ad. Why?”

He paused then looked embarrassed. “It was that phrase you used,” he said quietly as if worried anyone would overhear.

“What phrase?” I asked him. I knew exactly what phrase, but I wanted him to be thinking about it.

He turned a lovely color and tried to hide behind his water glass.

“What phrase?” I asked again, somewhat more insistently.

“The shiver of restraint,” he finally said, barely above a whisper.

I reached across the table and captured his hand again, circling my fingers around his wrist. He resisted me a little, but I think he was surprised by my strength. There was no way I was stronger than he was, but after just a moment’s resistance, he acquiesced to my control. I continued to stare into his eyes while clasping his wrist.

I smiled childishly and picked up my fork with my free hand. I used the tines of the fork to draw a dotted line across the top of the tiramisu. “That’s your half,” I gestured with my fork. Then I slowly stabbed through the desert, making sure I was well over the line when I did so.

— Alan —
I still wasn’t sure I liked her. I was even less sure I trusted her. But when the bill came, she released my hand, and my instant feeling was one of disappointment.

She glared at me when I reached for the check. Her hand was already on top of it. “This was my invitation, which means it’s my treat.”

I tried to argue, but her glare deepened, then she smiled. “You’re a good man,” she said as she handed a credit card to the waiter. “You can pay next time.”

I wasn’t sure there was going to be a next time. She was lovely and intelligent and even seemed to like me. But she was so not my type.

Do I even have a type?

— Valeria —
Now what?

— Alan —
She waited for me to fetch her coat from the coat check then allowed me to slip it over her shoulders for her. She thanked me with a kiss on my cheek.

I’ve helped many women put their coats on. Most of the time, they thank me. But that was the first time the thanks included a chaste kiss.

And yet, it didn’t really feel that chaste, either.

I managed to get to the door ahead of her; she thanked me as she stepped through then took my hand when we reached the sidewalk. She pulled my arm to her then wrapped her arms around it, clutching tightly and leaning against me slightly. I loved having her that close. My heart was dancing.

I had no idea what I was doing.

After a moment, she drew us towards the parking lot. “Which car is yours?” she asked. “Wait, I bet I can guess.”

She reviewed the choices then pointed to a pink Cadillac. “You seem like the outgoing Mary Kay type,” she told me with a grin.

I laughed.

“No?” She pulled me further into the parking lot, stopping in front of a BWM roadster. “This one’s cute,” she said, looking back and forth between me and the car. I didn’t say anything. She grabbed my arm again, leaned her head on my shoulder for a minute, then turned us both around to look at the cars across the driveway from where we stood. She pulled on my arm, walked us both to an unassuming Ford, then abruptly pushed my back against the passenger door and leaned into me, pinning me against the car.

— Valeria —
“Do you want this to go any further,” I asked him, our faces only inches away.

He gulped. He actually gulped. I found his nervousness an additional turn on. He finally nodded silently.

“On my terms?” I added.

He looked away. If I’d given him the room to do so, he’d have backed away, too. I wasn’t going to give him too much room, and I wasn’t going to let him think too much, either.

Well, he was going to think, but his thoughts were going to be on my terms, too.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I’m not sure I’m your type.”

He was exactly my type! He didn’t know it yet, but I was his, too.

“You don’t want to make me happy?” I asked him, pouting a little. Okay, that wasn’t entirely fair, but I wanted him further off balance.

“It’s not that,” he started to say.

“You don’t think I can make you want to make me happy?” I said, pressing more firmly against him.

“Um-“ He put his hands on my hips, and I could tell he was about to try to push me away. I didn’t let him. I reached down and grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands away, then up and to the back of his neck. I held him like that, my wrists resting just behind his ears, his hands awkwardly behind his head. I used my hold to pull his head forward and kissed him.

— Alan —
She was kissing me. I’d never felt so out of control of the situation. Her tongue teased my lips briefly before she slowly broke the kiss.

Still pressing against me, looking up at me, she smiled. “I think you might like doing things my way.”

She didn’t wait for me to respond, but kissed me again, but this time didn’t linger. “You just need a little convincing,” she said. She adjusted her grip, holding both my index fingers with one hand. With her other, she reached into her purse.

My eyes widened when I saw the handcuffs. She didn’t ask permission before snapping it around my right wrist. She tried tugging on my arm with the cuffs, but I resisted.

“Alan,” she said quietly. “I won’t hurt you.”

I looked into her eyes. My emotions were all over the place. It was probably stupid, but for some reason, I trusted her. I let her pull my right wrist down and behind my back. The left followed, and she clicked the other half of the handcuffs around the wrist.

She kissed me again.

She hadn’t even finished kissing me before her hands were in my pockets. I squirmed to get away. “What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Looking for your car keys,” she said. “Ah, here they are.” She pulled them out, pressed the unlock button on the key fob, and the car I was pressed against did it’s normal beep-beep when it’s unlocked.

— Valeria —
I opened the front passenger door of his car then pushed him in, making sure he didn’t hit his head. I got him seated in the car and buckled him in.

That’s when I got serious with the kissing.

He kisses nice.

With a small sigh, I pulled away, looking into his face for a moment. He was so sweet! His eyes were still closed. I patted him on the cheek, then pulled my head out of the car and closed the door. I practically ran around to the driver side, got in and started the car.

— Alan —
“What are you doing?” I asked her.

“Kidnapping you,” she replied. She turned to look at me, her head cocked to the side. She reached out and loosened my tie, then started unbuttoning my shirt. Her fingers slipped inside and began to play with a nipple.

I shuddered.

“I’m going to take you home,” she said quietly. “I’m going to slowly remove every piece of your clothing.” She unbuttoned more of my shirt, caressing my skin with the backs of her fingers as she did so. “I’m going to tie you to my bed.” She loosened my belt and pants then slipped her fingers inside.

I was waiting for her. She looked down, then looked back and me and smiled. “And then I’m going to spend hours driving you crazy.”

She was already driving me crazy.

— Valeria —
Mine. Oh, definitely mine.

— Alan —
“Before I’m done with you, I think you’ll be ready to agree to any demands I make.” She cocked her head again, her hand clutching me. “Am I right?”

I gasped then nodded.

She gave me another squeeze, and I almost fainted. Then her hand withdrew and she kissed me on the nose.

— Valeria —
If you love a thing, set it free?

Oh, I hate that aphorism. But in this case, it was probably good advice.

— Alan —
“Unfortunately, as much fun as all that would be, it wouldn’t be fair. Not to you, not to me.”

“What?” I asked.

“Alan, I play for keeps. As worked up as you are right now, you’ll agree to anything, but you might not mean it in the morning.”

“Yes, I would,” I protested.

“Like I said, you’d agree to anything right now. You have a lot of thinking to do, Alan.”

She fished in her purse and pulled out a pad and pen, wrote her address down, and set it on the car dash.

“Saturday night, dinner, my place.” She reached behind me, fumbled with my wrists for a moment, then suddenly my arms were free. I squirmed a little to get comfortable again, and then she was kissing me again, quickly.

“We’ll talk. And then we’ll see.”

I was still stunned. She was leaving me?

“You don’t want me?” I think I asked her quietly.

— Valeria —
“Oh Alan,” I told him. “I want you more than you can imagine. But I need you to come to me with a clear head.”

Getting back out of the car was the hardest part of the entire night.

~~~~~~~

Shiver of Restraint: The Tease is a post from: Femdom Fantasies. Authors retain copyright. If you enjoyed this story or have something to add, please leave a comment. Remember, feedback typically encourages writers to write more ;)

— Alan —

I read the brief advertisement again. “Dominant lady seeking handsome gentleman.” It was only 6 sentences long. The clincher was the phrase “the shiver of restraint.” I blushed as I thought about what that might mean.

She ended the post quite simple. “Take me to dinner. I’ll order the wine.”

I had first noticed the posting in and amongst other posts. Most of them all read the same way. “Full bodied woman seeking open minded gentleman for walks on the beach and candlelit dinners.” The details changed. Of course, a few were a little more blunt, using terms I can’t even bring myself to repeat.

I closed the browser. I’d been looking for a cheap coffee table in the for sale section and had wandered through the personals ads primarily out of curiosity. I admitted to myself the curiosity was clearly fueled by loneliness.

I spent the rest of the day working, but I just couldn’t forget the phrase, “the shiver of restraint.” I was pretty sure a date with Mr. Hand wasn’t going to help me forget, either.

The long day turned into a long evening, but the words continued to resonate. My thoughts were filled with images. My saner, more vanilla side told me to just get over it. “She’s not real. And if she is, she probably just wants to tie you to an operating table and cut out a kidney for the black market.” I couldn’t even remember the movie where I had seen that scene, but it stuck with me.

It was 9:45 before I couldn’t hold out any longer. I found the posting, now several pages back, and clicked the mail link. I stared at the screen, not knowing what I wanted to say. How do I get her attention? She must have received a hundred replies by now. In desperation, I asked the leading question in my head. “Are you real?” I hit send.

There, I had done what I could. I’d replied to the posting. I didn’t expect a response. Or if I got a response, I suspect it would direct me to some web site offering to take my money in exchange for nebulous services I didn’t really want, services that weren’t going to fill the aching hole in my life.

— Valeria —

“I must have been insane to post that advertisement,” I told myself. I stared at my in basket. 218 replies. I’d written the post late last night, and now I had 218 replies. I sighed. I couldn’t bring myself to ignore them.

I opened the first one. It included 3 poorly written sentences and a photo of mail anatomy. “What a moron,” I said and deleted it.

The next one was similar. I deleted it, too.

I started skimming them to get an idea what they were like. I realized I could quickly categorize each of them. I created new folders for each of the categories and started moving the emails into the appropriate folders. One folder labeled “Idiots”. That folder got every email that included a photo
I wouldn’t let my mother see. I also included the ones that wrote in dude-speak or whose writing was clearly terrible after a half second skim.

The next folder was titled “Airbags”. Long posts that didn’t seem to have a real point went there.

I created a folder titled “Haters”. I mentally kept track of these, and the haters seemed to be about 50-50 men and women.

It took me until nearly 10 PM to organize the email that had arrived by then. I was playing catch up right at the end, as new emails arrived. I finally caught up and reviewed my options. At first blush, not a single post I found intriguing. I was going to have to go back and read through 74 posts from
the Airbags folder. Although I had to admit, some of the guys in the Idiots folders had a certain physical attraction, but I just couldn’t see myself encouraging anyone who sent women they didn’t know photos like that.

One more email arrived. I opened it to see how to categorize it.

— Alan —

I played a game of Sudoku and wondered if tomorrow would be a better day. Three games later, I had new email.

It was a response. From her. It was brief. “Yes. Are you?”

I stared at the screen for a while then hit Reply. “Yes. And a little surprised you wrote back. Now what?” I hit send.

— Valeria —

It was such a simple email. Just “Are you real?” I actually stared at it for a while. The shortest email I’d gotten (excepting a few with one word epitaphs), and I spent more time reading it than any other I’d received so far.

I thought about why I’d posted my original advertisement. I wanted a guy who was willing to fill my life on my terms, a guy who understood the joy of playing. This guy asked a simple question, and after everything else I’d received, I decided of everyone, he deserved an answer.

Such a simple question. It deserved a simple answer, so I sent one.

His reply was nearly immediate. He was real, too. I stared at his question. “Now what?”

I started to tingle.

— Alan —

Her reply took 7 minutes. I know, because I was finishing my third game of Sudoku at just over 2 minutes a game. Can you tell what I do when I need to think?

“LOL,” she had written. “Actually, I’m surprised I wrote back, too. I guess after reading through 74 lengthy posts from guys trying to impress me, looking at 121 pictures of male anatomy I didn’t really care to receive, and 22 emails calling me a variety of names, receiving an email that was so easy to answer was intriguing. So, now what? Now it would be traditional for you to try to impress me. And if
you do, I’ll add you to the other 74. What’s your name? Are you married? How old are you?”

— Valeria —

He wrote back quickly. “No, not married. Not for a while. 43. Alan.”

I frowned. He was quite a bit older than I was. But the tingling didn’t stop.

— Alan —

“Hello, Alan,” she wrote back. “Call me Valeria. Not Val! I’m 32. Why did you respond to my ad?”

I thought about that one for a while. Finally, I told her the truth. “I just couldn’t stop thinking about your phrase, the shiver of restraint.” I thought some more then added, “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

— Valeria —

Thinking about those words, I smiled. I’d been pretty pleased with that phrase myself. I spent some time daydreaming, imaging this man I didn’t yet know kneeling at my feet, ankles bound together behind him, arms secured to his sides.

I finally shook myself, waking up to a good dose of reality. If he was responding to online ads, there must be something wrong with him, right? On the other hand, who was I to talk? I’d written one of those ads.

I was intrigued, but I wasn’t ready to decide what to do. I glanced at the clock and realized I’d left him hanging for a while. I wasn’t ready to go to bed with this so undecided. I decided to buy myself some time.

— Alan —

I stopped counting the Sudoku games at 8. I figured she’d either lost interest or had gone to bed. I was about ready to give up for the night when more mail arrived. It was brief.

“Are you still awake?”

I responded immediately. “Yes.”

A half game later, I had more email. “I have questions. I expect honesty. And the first question is: what is YOUR biggest question right now?”

I stared at the screen. Honestly? I didn’t know how to answer that without being offensive. My biggest question was simple: was she a prostitute? I hit reply, then stared at the screen. I hadn’t written a word when I had more email.

“Keep working on the first email before you reply to this one. Are you in shape?”

Oh God. This wasn’t going well. I finally wrote her to say, “My biggest question? I don’t know how to ask this. But… was your post a marketing letter for a financial venture you are running?” I hit send.

Her next question was easy to answer. “No. A little heavy, not quite obese. Desk job.”

In the meantime, a third question arrived. “When’s the last time you hit a woman?”

Ouch. That one was even easier to answer. “Does that question count sisters when I was growing up? I think my older sister and I got into a heck of a scuffle when I was about 13. That was the last time.”

— Valeria —

I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to know how he thought. I wanted to know what he looked like. I wanted to know if he was an asshole.

The first question actually wasn’t hard to ask. I really did want to know what was going on his head right now. The second question was pretty obvious, too. I fired those off quickly.

Then I got stuck until I remembered a psychology exam my mother told me about once. In it, one of the questions was “Have you stopped hitting your mother?” We had discussed possible answers to that, and I pointed out that the only answer is “No”. You can’t stop an activity you haven’t started, after all.

His answers took a little time to arrive. When the first one arrived, my jaw dropped to the floor, but just for a moment.

“He thinks I’m a prostitute!”

It took about 5 seconds before I started laughing. No, he doesn’t think I’m a prostitute, he’s just making sure, and I couldn’t think of a better way to ask.

His next email arrived before I’d decided what to do about the first one. More honesty. Two emails with difficult questions and the most honest answers I’ve ever heard.

I was squirming.

— Alan —

There was a pause. I was hitting the “Check Mail” button every 15 seconds, obsessively. Eventually, mail arrived.

It was spam. Hell is going to have a special space reserved for spammers.

Five minutes went by. She hadn’t liked my answers, I decided. Then mail arrived. “Don’t go to bed yet,” it said.

I wrote back. “Okay.”

She wrote back right away this time. “Smile. Good boy.”

I started a fresh game of Sudoku. I didn’t count games, but it was after midnight when the next email arrived.

“Without doing a web search, do you know what the term female led relationship implies?”

I wrote back, “No. I can guess, I suppose. Sort of the opposite of a traditional, male-dominated relationship?”

“Sort of,” came her reply after a few minutes. She included a couple of web links. “I’m going to bed in 3 minutes, so respond immediately to this email and read these web sites later. Dinner, tomorrow, 6:45.” She named a restaurant. “Meet on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. I want a confirmation email now plus re-confirmation by noon tomorrow after you’ve read those sites. “

I thought about it. What’s the worst that could happen? I was a big guy; we were meeting in a public location. I suppose she could embarrass me. I could handle a little embarrassment.

“I’ll be there.”

I had a reply almost immediately. “Good. Wear something purple. Good night, Alan.”

It was late. My eyes were tired, and I had a date tomorrow night with a strange woman about whom I knew practically nothing. What was I doing?

I began to read. It was quite late when I finished, but I had one more email to send.

“Valeria, 6:45. I’ll be the guy in the purple tie. Alan.”

~~~~~~~

Shiver of Restraint – I’ll Order the Wine is a post from: Femdom Fantasies. Authors retain copyright. If you enjoyed this story or have something to add, please leave a comment. Remember, feedback typically encourages writers to write more ;)