I smile as I hear the door to the bathroom open. You cannot resist slipping in and watching me shower, can you? I’m not at all surprised to feel a waft of cool air as you open the glass door and step inside. After all, showering together is one of our favorite things to do.

As you reach out to touch me, I silently hold up my hand to signal that you are to stop. Your brows arch in surprise but you comply.

“I control you now.” Instantly your eyes close and your head drops.

(Read the entire story at The Silken Web).

~~~~~~~

Hypnotic Bonds – An Excerpt 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 ;)

Chapter Five (see previous chapter)

He was on time to her office, and possibly even more nervous than the day before, worried that everyone she worked with was aware of her control. There were only a few people about, everyone having scrammed as fast as possible on a Friday after work. He carried with him a small gift bag, the top stuffed with tissue paper. Arriving at her door he found a note indicating he should knock and go into her office suite.

She was standing and looking out the large window, sixteen floors up, at the city and lovely surroundings. She wore a dark knit dress that accentuated the clean curves of her body and framed that high, tight ass. Her long dark hair was loose and cascading down her back, shimmering as she turned to face him. She looked exquisite, her killer smile and inviting eyes lighting up with pleasure at his presence, making him feel like this was the only place in the world he wanted to be at this particular moment. She beckoned him over to kiss and caress his cheek then hand him a flute of champagne from the window ledge. His look inquired for him.

“Cheers James, help me celebrate a big settlement for the firm today.”

“Congratulations, Miss Brianna.”

She had that confident, pleased look of things going her way, and thanked him for remembering to address her correctly. She went on to explain that they would be going out in public and that they would be James and Brianna while at the bar. “I don’t share my personal life with anyone outside the group, except Mrs. Burns, of course,” bringing yesterday’s embarrassment flooding back to poor James. “I don’t generally play in public, James, but there are a couple of things I’ll expect of you. One, you’ll behave like a gentleman at all times, and two, never contradict me after I’ve made a decision.”

She looked to the hand James was using to hold the small gift bag, startling him into action. “I brought your underwear back, cleaned like you asked.” Earlier James had thought long and hard about how to present the panties back to Bri. He had the feeling that smuggled back, crumpled up in his pocket would not go over real well.

Bri gave him delightedly surprised look and hugged him close, saying, “You clever,clever, boy. I’ll have to remember that about you, James.”

With that they left the office for the couple block walk to the pub. She took hold of his hand in the elevator and held it until they were seated at a corner of the bar, leaving no doubt to anyone observing that they were a couple. She flagged down the bartender and ordered a couple of beers, causing James to laugh.

“Something funny, James?”

“When I was old enough, my Uncle told me to always look for a pretty girl who wasn’t afraid to belly up to the bar and order a beer, she’d be the most interesting to talk with, and least stuck on herself. I just don’t know if he meant this interesting.”

They smiled together as she said, “Let’s toast to your uncle, who sounds like a very wise man.” They then proceeded to have a great first date, where he learned she was from Ohio, played point guard on the basketball team and was offered a scholarship to Northwestern. She worked hard but was always a backup. She worked harder in school finishing summa cum laude, and stayed to attend Northwestern Law. She loved Chicago, and was offered jobs at some prestigious firms, but followed her live-in boyfriend out to the West Coast. She thought they’d marry, but he dumped her when her success overshadowed his, leaving her for a massage therapist in San Bernadino. She laughed about it now, but was really down when it happened, threw herself into work and made a name for herself in the firm. She’d met Sue several years ago at a conference, they’d hit it off and she’d had a whole new world open itself up to her, her take charge nature being something to be celebrated , not hidden. Her father had died 8 years previously from cancer, her mom lived in Florida, was very healthy and active. Her grandmother was 86y.old [ born in the Phillipines] in a nursing home near mom. No brothers or sisters, but 2 great friends who still lived in Ohio, and knew of her lifestyle only peripherally.

During their conversation she’d managed to order an appetizer platter, more beers, accept congratulations on the settlement figure from some lawyers she worked with, and watch with amusement as a bunch of guys wanted to talk with her date about his playing days. The bartender got back to them and asked about another round, “I’ll have one more, but he’s done,” looking at James “these Michigan guys could never hold their liquor that well,” a dig at his college affiliation. “Water or Coke, James,” she asked with a little head tilt. “Water,” he nodded, smiling at the bartender.

She leaned in to whisper, “We’ll be leaving soon and I want you sober to drive me back to your place. You’ve been a good boy and have earned some playtime tonight, James,” lightly running her hand along his inner thigh to cup his package causing him to flinch. She laughed and said, “Mine.”

–

They arrived at his car, and as he went to open her door she laid her hand on his.

“James, before we leave, repeat your phrases for me.”

He looked down to her eyes, color rising to his cheeks as he breathed slowly before beginning.

“Yes Miss Brianna.” “ No Miss Brianna.” “Please Miss Brianna.” “Thank you Miss Brianna.”

“Very well done, James. When we get to your place those are the only words I want to hear from you. You may open the door for me now.”

She slid easily into the car, the faint scent of her perfume lingering as he shut the door. She smiled mischievously and turned in the seat facing him as he pulled out and headed toward his townhouse. Her index finger kept up a distracting figure of eight pattern on his right thigh, and whenever he chanced a glance her way, he was reminded to keep his eyes on the road.

Arriving in his parking spot a 20 minute eternity later, she made sure he offered an arm to escort her to the door. He laughed to himself for actually fumbling to get the right key, and wondered if the nervous energy made him seem charming or just lame.

Strangely, she flipped the light switch before he could reach, then, gently propelled him to the center of the living room, almost like she knew the floor plan. She spun him to face her, stepped back, and slipped off her heels.

“Mmm, feels good to get out of those shoes. James, I want you to stand right where you are. Spread your legs a little more and clasp your hands together at your lower back. Be a dear and keep your hands up high enough above your ass for me to get a good look.”

“There you go. James, do you think you can remember this exact position?”

“Yes Miss Brianna” struggled out of his chest.

“Excellent,” in her indulgent teacher voice, “Now, when I get back from exploring your kitchen, same spot, same position, buck naked.”

His eyes widened and regarded her warily, surprised she would make him do this on their first real date.

“Quickly, James, clothes folded neatly on the floor next to you before I get back” as she turned giving him another look at the way the dark knit dress clung to her backside. She had him pegged for an ass man at this point, and thank God, because she’d always felt it to be her best feature. He tried to calm himself and move expediently at the same time, happy he’d cleaned out the fridge and put away the dishes earlier. From the kitchen he heard her call out “James, when you’re done, keep your eyes down and focused on my shoes”, “OK?”

“Yes Miss Brianna”.

“Oh, would you like a little water, too.”

“Please Miss Brianna”, trying to sound casual.

She returned to lean against the archway that separated the living room from the small dining area. Very pleased with the view, she stopped to take inventory of the young man before her. Well muscled upper body tapering to a narrow waist and hips, check. Sandy blonde hair, grey/ green eyes, handsome features, check. Great abs, check. He was sporting a semi, and his dick dangled down, heavy looking over top of his balls. Shit. Check and double check. She was well aware of the puffy, damp feeling between her own legs and thought to her herself, “Careful Bri, it would be too easy to start spending a lot of time complicating your life with this cutie.” And “Damn, damn, damn Sue all to hell for setting me up like this.”

She waited for the prolonged scrutiny to make him uncomfortable and provoke some type of movement.

He looked up, and she was ready with another of those irritating little victory smiles he’d been seeing all week.

“Eyes down!” she admonished, paused, then caught him off guard with a soft, “You’re very beautiful to look at James.”

His mouth creased into a tight little grimace, upset he’d given her another win. He stood emotionally confused, trying to get back to center. HE was the one with smooth confidence and compliments that girls seemed to love. HE gave out purposeful kisses and caresses designed to move things along to the bedroom. HE wasn’t the eye candy, he enjoyed the candy.

Breathe.

Just breathe and concentrate on the shoes. Simple black stilettos. Standing guard in the middle of his living room.

“James,” starting toward him, “how should you respond to a compliment.”

Almost back to center now, “Thank you, Miss Brianna.”

“Correct. You should make it a point to always acknowledge a woman’s compliment, it’s just good manners. I will always expect good manners James.”

She seemed to swim up from underneath him, so close, her 5’9” forcing her to look up into his eyes. He felt the fingers of one hand slide up the back of his neck, clutching his hair while the other cupped his cheek, both pulling him down to her waiting lips. Stopping just mockingly short.

“Would you like to kiss me James?”

“Yes, Miss Brianna.”

“Ask nicely.”

“Please, Miss Brianna.”

She tasted faintly of alcohol and peppermint lifesaver, and as he relaxed into the kiss, she struck out possessively with her tongue, slowly but methodically forcing his backward, laying claim to this part of him.

Her intention had been a brief tease, but her enjoyment overwhelmed intentions, and she waited him out. Waited for his mouth to go meltingly soft, yielding itself to her. His cock was rampant now as she broke the kiss and glided to his side, one hand trailing down his stomach to firmly encircle the base of his erection, the other slipping to his ass cheek, nails digging almost painfully.

She felt the shiver run all the way to the head of his cock as she breathed into his ear, “Ahhh, it seems someone’s quite the little whore for my attention. Did I give you permission to get hard?”

“N n no Miss Brianna,” croaked out of him.

“No indeed,” as she started a rhythmic tugging at his root, “Fortunately for you I happen to adore erections, this one in particular shows great promise. If you continue to be a good boy I may even let you take care of it later.”

She stopped her ministrations and stepped directly behind him, standing quietly while his ragged breaths and tense muscles relaxed to something approaching normal. She waited just that moment longer, till the only sound was their combined breathing…..

He heard the zipper at the back of her dress start its’ descent, and the silence of the room, combined with the maelstrom in his mind, made it sound like the loudest can-opener ever created. He didn’t know if he actually heard it hit the ground, or just imagined the noise. He definitely didn’t imagine her hands resting on his hips, or tits pressed into his back. Her warm breath tickled the skin of his neck. His hands gripped piteously to his wrists, helping him not squirm, or worse, break position. His cock just bobbed obscenely in front of him.

Her left handed lifted and stroked his shoulder, massaging for her pleasure, not his.

“James, I am very impressed with your housekeeping skills. Your home is very neat and orderly.”

“Thank you, Miss Brianna.”

“I’m going to go upstairs and snoop around. Yes, James you heard right. Snoop. I’ll be checking for pictures or panties left over from the sluts you’ve been with, porn mags, you know, things you’d be too embarrassed to show me normally.” Nails gripping into shoulder flesh menacingly, “Will I be disappointed James, will I find the phone numbers of a harem of girls who can’t wait to hook up with you again?”

“No Miss Brianna.” He wasn’t a pig, though no doubt, had a knack for finding willing partners, never letting any of them get to close, or God forbid, leave little reminders of themselves.

“We’ll see James, we’ll see,” she chuckled softly. Her patient tone returned, “After I’m completely upstairs, pick up my dress and drape it neatly over the couch. Then back in position. Remember James, I want those pretty eyes of yours glued to those shoes, OK?”

“Yes Miss Brianna.”

“James, didn’t I just compliment your eyes.”

“Yes, tha..” Catching himself, “Thank you, Miss Brianna.”

Bri smiled openly now, almost feeling sorry for teasing him. Almost. She was getting way too hot and horny to end this little training session prematurely.

As she headed up the steps, he caught site of the purple thong snugly hugging the enticing gap between her legs, smiling that the woman could really make a thong dance.

Bri took her time wandering through the upstairs, she had no real intention of looking for anything in particular, but she just couldn’t resist the opportunity to keep him off balance. The bedroom and master bath were neat as a pin, the king bed made precisely. She wondered if he had a maid service. There was a guest bedroom and an office set up in the third bedroom. Two computer monitors, a large desk and some pictures on the wall of family, his sister and husband were a handsome couple, and the niece jut adorable. One photo of him from high school, in a football uniform, celebrating with some friends after a game. “Oh James,” she thought to herself, “you must have broken a thousand hearts in school.” She returned to the walk-in closet in his bedroom, selected a belt and picked up a soft pillow from his bed, and then started for the stairs….

James waited patiently, growing a bit nervous that she’d been up there awhile. When he heard her descending the stairs his eyes locked up with the shoes and his back straightened just a little more. His cock proud and upright.

Bri draped the belt over the couch, and moved in behind him. Lightly running her nails down his back she asked sweetly, “James, what color are the panties you’ll be washing tonight?”

“Purp..,” shit he thought, how could I have fallen for that.

“So you were looking at me when I told you to look at the shoes,” indignantly continuing, “Are you just dense?”

“No I didn’t, I mean just out of the corner of my eye..”

“James!” he was shouted to silence, and in an icy tone “Think very carefully before you say one more word, because whether I stay or leave depends on it. James, did you look at me?”

He bit back a retort and answered, “Yes, Miss Brianna.”

“Dis-O-bedient, James. Disobedience always requires correction.”

She stepped in close to administer a hard slap to his ass that made the muscular cheeks quiver. She reached quickly around to his chest and pinched hard on the nipple, not letting go and causing him to turn and also break position. “Don’t you dare move,” letting go to grab his hair from behind and placing him back where she wanted. “Hands up higher on your back, bend your knees to make your ass a better target.” She circled to the front of him, noticing his dick starting to droop, lifting his chin, “James, James, James,” she stage whispered, “I’m going to beat your ass now with that belt,” she turned his head to the couch, “your own belt.” She continued in a more conversational tone, “I have a certain number of strokes in mind James, if your man enough to get there, I might just make it feel all better afterwards.”

He waited, half squatting in position, looking at her magnificent body. Her breasts on the smaller side, upturned, capped by nipples the color and shape of pencil erasers, taunting him with there bullet erectness. Her waist was narrow and her midsection defined by workouts, the landing strip just as perfect as he remembered yesterday.

She moved out of eyesight to grab the belt, he felt leather caress his back, he heard, “Ask for your punishment, James, remember your phrases and ask nicely.”

“Please, Miss Brianna.”

The crack across his ass resounded immediately, the pain searing, almost causing him to jump.

CRACK, CRACK, CRACK CRACK, pause, her had squeezing in the pain. He barely maintained position, but steadied himself, unwilling to move. She had challenged him, and he was tired of her winning. WHAP, the top of his thigh, then the other.

A steady rhythm ensued, marking his ass from top to bottom. He was biting down hard, eyes closed, hands doing everything they could to keep position. He’d lost track of how many blows, 15 maybe 16, when they suddenly stopped. He opened his eyes to see she had materialized in front of him, closely examining his face. She used the doubled over belt to tease the nipple she’d twisted earlier.

“You’ve still got 5 coming, James, or you can wimp out and we’ll call it a night.” She smiled, watching his manly pride rear up. He was still swallowing back pain, but defiantly looked her in the eye.

“If you want them James, you’ll have to ask me for each one, and they won’t be the love taps I’ve been dishing out so far.”

His face blanched slightly, but he stiffened and clearly said, “Please, Miss Brianna.”

She resumed position and fire seemed to explode across his ass. She then went trough the next three, his breathing now labored. “Last one James, I’d like you to take it for me, but you’ve done so well I’ll let you come even if you say no.” She almost melted with joy when she heard him strangle out, “P-Please, Miss Brianna.”

She tapped his ass lovingly with the belt, dropping it to step around and reach behind his neck to pull him into a kiss. He told himself that he would take whatever she could dish out, but the sudden tenderness was infinitely worse than the beating. He could feel the corner of his eyes filling with tears and he wanted desperately to turn away from her, too embarrassed to show her how she’d gotten to him. She held him tighter, seeing the welling in his eyes, and said, “Kiss me hard, James.” And he did, hard and long, his hands reaching to take hold of her ass and mold her to him, practically lifting her off the ground. His cock, which had gone completely flaccid during the punishment, reared up along her thigh eventually pressing to her belly between them.

Bri luxuriated in his passion, inwardly very happy that he obviously wasn’t a pain slut. She liked dispensing pain for discipline, not pleasure. And right now she wanted to continue training him through pleasure.

She broke the kiss and had him lay face down, with the pillow cushioning his cock and balls. She laid down atop him with her legs spread, her thighs staddling his lower back. She felt his whole body shiver as she began instructing into his ear, “Mmm, such a good boy for me, taking it all. I want you to hump that pillow, James, hump it slow with me lying right on top of you. That’s a good boy keep that same slow pace for me.”

She slid fractionally lower to his ass and he could feel the slickness of her grinding over his right ass cheek. “Ohh My GOD, the heat from your ass feels so incredible on my pussy. Oh don’t you dare stop moving JAMES, Oh , AH, AHHH , Oh God, OH OHHHH,” as she ground down hard and shocked him with the speed and ferocity of her orgasm, spasming all over his exposed ass, mewling incoherent little sounds, and slowly subsiding to a satiated stop. She hugged him from behind and kissed his back while she regained herself, finally sliding back to tease his ear.

“Oh James, that was marvelous, you did such a good job with your hips, fucking your pillow just right for me. And your cock, well it gets so hard when I’m next to you. I think you really like being my boytoy.” Her words, and the way she just used him almost had him dying in shame, but he needed to come so bad at this point that he kept up the rhythm, the pillow having creased into a pleasurable furrow for his cock and balls. “Look up at my shoes James,” he craned his neck slightly, “shoes are so important to a woman. She can use them to feel so attractive, or powerful. You’re going to make me feel very attractive and powerful when you come all over that pillow James. Come on James, show me how badly you want to be my good boy, cum for me.” as she tongued his ear and nipped at his neck.

James felt as if his whole being was centered in his swollen cock and balls. His breath snorted out of his nostrils and he made a growling noise deep in his throat. The first shot felt like it had the force of a fire hose, almost painful. He bucked through several powerful strokes and he swore he came longer than he ever had in his life. When he came back into his head, she was lying beside him gently rubbing his ass, which was still a dull mass of pain.

“Roll over James,” and as he rolled off the pillow she climbed back on him to lay her head on his chest. His hands stroked her hair and down her back as she listened to his heart hammer in his chest, eventually slowing to a normal beat….

She would have been content to stay there with him like that all night, but knew she had to give him some time to process the events of this night. For that matter, she needed her own time to think. She slid up to kiss him tenderly, “You were a lot of fun tonight, James. You are allowed to speak freely now, just remember to be respectful. Are you OK?”, said looking down with concern into his eyes.

“Yeah, my ass aches pretty good though, Miss Brianna,. You’re stronger than you look,” giving her a meaningful smirk.

“Mmmm….well that’s what happens to bad boys who can’t follow instructions, and it didn’t seem to prevent you from shooting all over that pillow.”

James colored and started to look away when she caught his chin and kissed him again and then pulled back a few inches, “A little embarrassed?”

“Probably just a little more than a little” he winced slightly, “it sucks that just about any orgasm a guy has is a good one.”

Brianna gave a full throaty laugh, “Oh stick with me James, I’ll have you cum in ways and positions you can’t even imagine.” Then more seriously, “No really, you were fantastic tonight James, you allowed me to control the action and I was obviously very turned on, you did that for me and I’m so proud to be with you right now. That’s the way it is for me, I love the control James, it’s what revs my engine, and it has to be part of whoever wants to be with me. You seemed to enjoy letting go and letting me lead tonight.”

He looked into her eyes and saw the warmth and concern she was conveying, “Yes, it was different from anything I’ve done before, but you’re right, I liked it very much, and I liked being with you,” feeling very vulnerable as he spoke.

She kissed him again, and laid her head back on his chest and hugged him close. “James, I don’t know any better than you where this goes, and really it’s all up to you. So you know, sometimes this lifestyle is only about playtime, and sometimes it’s a deeper part of a relationship. If you like I’d be happy to start your training, but again, with me James it’s not all just play time, sometimes it might be sitting quietly at my feet or getting me a drink of water while we’re watching a movie, or making us a peanut butter an jelly sandwich because that’s what I wanted. You might like to be with a different type of Domme, one who just wanted to play?”

“What kind of peanut butter?”

“Excuse me?” she looked up and queried.

“What kind of peanut butter,” he reintegrated, “Smooth or chunky?”

“Smooth Why?”

“Oh, thank God, for a minute I was worried this didn’t have a chance,” he teased. “OWW,” yelped out, “What was that for?” as his nipple was pinched and released.

“That James, was because I can,” before gently licking the area and making him shiver, then looking up at him with that Cheshire cat grin, “and obedient boys should always remember who there teasing.” She worked herself forward on him purposefully giving her thighs a squeeze around him, kissed his cheek and announced, “And now we have to get up, dressed and you have to give me a ride back to my car.”

~~~~~~~

Stone’s Throw: “Boytoy” 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 —
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 ;)

Harold Arthur Applequist carried a most unfortunate name, bequeathed onto him by his paternal grandfather, Harold, and his father, Arthur. Harold’s mother, Wendy, couldn’t have done anything about Harold’s surname, of course, but she could have done something about the rest of it. But clearly she did not.

Kids are cruel. A child with the name “Harold Applequist” easily becomes a target of playground derision. A child saddled with such a name may respond in any of a variety of ways. Some may turn inward, hoping to escape notice. Such a child rarely rises to his potential. Other children respond with their fists, turning into bullies and worse. As a child himself, Harold’s father received his share of playground taunting, and his response was to lash out, setting behavior patterns that lasted throughout his days.

Harold could have gone either of these ways, but he did not, for he had an advantage many children did not: his mother. Wendy Applequist was a kind, sensitive, caring woman. Long before such aphorisms became popular, Harold’s mother had a deep understanding that “the best revenge is success.” And thus, Harold grew to become a kind, sensitive, hard-driven success. Harold responded to the playground taunting by earning the best grades in school, by always going over and above on every assignment presented. When he was old enough, he took a paper route. In the winter, he shoveled driveways for several of the elderly members of his neighborhood. In the summers, he cut their grass and helped with their gardening.

In time, he attended college, continuing to earn top marks, then launched a career.

Harold was equally successful in other aspects of his life. He didn’t always make friends easily, but he kept the friends he made. While one couldn’t call him popular with the girls, he rarely lacked a date for school dances or, as he matured, important social functions. Growing up, Harold had watched the interactions between his parents, but the only thing he learned from this example was how to dominate a woman. He vowed he’d never treat a woman the way his father treated his mother.

Unfortunately, that didn’t teach him what to do; it only taught him what not to do.

This didn’t deter Harold. He carefully picked the women he asked out, looking for intelligence, gentleness and kindness, the attributes he most admired from his mother. And so he got to know many very pleasant woman. And yet, he never fell in love.

—

Harold knocked at Teresa’s apartment door. After a brief pause, the door was opened by Alicia, Teresa’s roommate.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said, looking him up and down while standing in the doorway.

“Hello, Alicia,” Harold said. “Teresa should be expecting me.”

“She’s almost ready,” Alicia said, still leaning against the doorway, blocking Harold’s entrance. After a pause, Harold raised an eyebrow, and Alicia stepped back, holding the door. Alicia gave the door a casual flip to close it, barely missing Harold in the process.

Harold moved past her, then decided this time to notice Alicia’s attitude towards him. “What did I ever do to offend you. Alicia?”

“Me, personally? Nothing. But I’ve seen your type before. A real go getter, always in charge. I bet you order for your dates when you take them to those fine restaurants.” She looked down her nose at him. “Always polite, but everyone knows, Harold wears the pants. And with your rugged good looks and solid job, women let you get away with it, too. I hope you’ll excuse me if I don’t faint at your feet for you.”

Without another word and ignoring Harold’s gaping mouth, Alicia turned on her heel and stomped to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

“Well,” said Harold eventually. “I guess she doesn’t like me.”

Accustomed to waiting for his dates, Harold paced slowly while checking his watch from time to time. It wasn’t long before Teresa appeared. She was wearing a little black dress, black heels, and impeccable makeup.

“You look nice,” he told her. She walked to him and presented a cheek for a careful kiss. “Thank you.” She squeezed his arm briefly, then pulled her coat from the closet. Harold helped her with it, then held the apartment door for her. He also carefully but quite automatically held the building door, then opened the car door for her, closing it once she was seated.

Conversation over dinner was relaxed, Teresa mainly asking questions and rarely offering opinions. Harold, remember the conversation with Alicia, finally asked Teresa, “Am I overbearing?”

“What?” Teresa said. “Of course not.” She paused, considering. “Well, maybe a little, but you mean well, and I don’t mind.”

“I’m overbearing?” Harold said again.

“Only a little, Harold,” Teresa said. “But most men are. I’m used to it.”

Harold stared at her with wide eyes.

“Oh dear,” said Teresa after a moment. “I should have lied. I’m sorry. You’re really not overbearing at all, you just let a girl know what you like. Nothing wrong with that at all.”

If anything, Harold’s eyes opened wider. “You think you need to lie to me?”

Teresa cocked her head, then laughed. “You’re such a kidder. Can you tell me anything about the show tonight?”

The remainder of the evening passed uneventfully, although Harold was distracted most of the evening, not really focusing on Teresa until she invited him in.

—

Teresa opened the door wearing jeans and a blouse. “Hello, Harold.”

“Oh oh,” said Harold. “Didn’t I tell you where we were going?”

Teresa stepped back so Harold could enter, then quietly closed the door behind him. “We need to talk.”

Teresa then led the way into the apartment’s living room, taking the easy chair while leaving the sofa to Harold. Harold sat down, then took a breath. Teresa held up her hand.

“Harold, I’m seeing someone else.”

“What?” he said. “Oh. That’s okay, I am too. But we have dinner reservations and a show.”

“Harold, you don’t understand,” Teresa said. “I’m seeing someone else. Exclusively. I like you, but you don’t love me, and I think he does.”

“But,” Harold sputtered, fishing into his suit jacket pocket. “I have tickets. I don’t want to go alone.”

It was at that moment that Alicia walked into the room. “Tickets? Where?” Without waiting for an answer, she walked across the room and took them from a startled Harold, looking at them. “I’ll go.” She handed the tickets back. “Give me 10 minutes.”

“But-”

Alicia ignored him, returning to her room and closing the door.

Harold turned to Teresa. “She doesn’t even like me.”

“I’m sorry, Harold,” Teresa said. “I’m not going. Did you have someone else you wanted to ask? I can go tell her.”

Harold looked at the floor, trying to unscramble his thoughts.

“Harold,” Teresa said kindly. “Was I wrong? Do you love me? Were we leading towards marriage? The truth.”

Harold looked at her. “No,” he said finally.

“So I haven’t broken your heart,” she said. “Just your plans?”

Harold nodded.

“Okay. Take Alicia. Have a nice time.”

Harold nodded again. The two of them sat together for several minutes, not talking. Eventually, Alicia’s door opened. Harold looked at her, his jaw dropping for a moment.

Alicia was wearing a red off the shoulder dress, matching opera gloves and heels. She posed for a moment, pretending to adjust a wayward wisp of hair, feeling Harold’s eyes on her. She turned to him as he stood up, then crossed the room to stand in front of him. Watching his eyes the entire time, she reached out and straightened his tie.

Harold still hadn’t said anything, so Alicia cocked an eyebrow. Harold gave himself a little shake. “You look nice.”

“Thank you. Say good night to Teresa, I’ll wait in the hall.” Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and disappeared out the apartment door, closing it quietly.

Harold turned to Teresa. She stepped up to him and grasped the lapels of his jacket, adjusting his clothing briefly. “You’re a good man, Harold,” she said. “I like you. But that’s not enough. Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

He turned to go, but Teresa spoke again. “If you have an open mind, I think Alicia may surprise you.”

“She hates me.” Harold said.

Teresa didn’t say anything, but instead gave Harold a push towards the door. As he opened the door, she quietly said, “Good bye, Harold.”

Harold paused, but didn’t turn around when he answered her. “Good bye, Teresa.”

In the hallway, Alicia was waiting. “I’ll drive,” she announced, taking his arm and tugging Harold in the direction of the parking garage.

“My car is out front,” he said, gesturing in the other direction.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine there,” Alicia said.

“But-”

Alicia stopped and turned to Harold. “Do you think women can’t drive?”

“No, of course not.”

“You just think you’re a better driver than I am?”

“I’ve never seen you drive.”

“So you’re being obstinate because… what?”

Harold stared at Alicia, not saying anything. He was not used to a woman who stood up to a man and didn’t know how to respond. After several seconds of silence, Alicia raised an eyebrow.

“Um,” Harold said finally. “You can drive.”

Alicia began to smile, starting with the corners of her mouth, her lips parting into a full smile that included a sparkle in eyes. “Why Harry,” she said, stepping back next to him and offering his arm a firm hug. “That’s so sweet! Thank you. I love driving.”

Harold returned her infections smile, but winced at the “Harry”. Still, she felt quite nice as she continued to lean slightly against him while resuming the short trek to the parking garage. “Alicia,” he said after a few steps. “I prefer if people call me Harold.”

“But Harold is just so stuffy,” Alicia said. “Harry fits you so much better, and thanks to Jo Rowling, a well-respected name. Why don’t you like it?”

Harold considered his words before responding. He’d answered that question before, but he wanted to use more care when explaining to Alicia. For some reason, her opinion mattered to him. “Growing up, kids can be cruel,” he explained. “Hairy Harry was the nicest name they called me. The only kid who was teased for his name more than I was Timmy Roach. He wore glasses.”

The two continued to walk while Alicia considered her response. They arrived at the parking garage and disengaged, Harold holding the door for Alicia.

“Thank you,” she said, stepping through. She waited for him, taking his arm again and tugging him towards her car. “Harry, there are no petty school boys here teasing you. Just a beautiful woman who thinks you’re cute. And she would much rather spend the evening with fun Harry than stuffy old Harold.”

It was only a few steps to Alicia’s car, a deep blue 1965 Ford Mustang. The top was down. Harold stopped and stared at the car. “It runs?”

Alicia laughed. “I’m putting the mechanic’s children through college.” She looked down for a moment. “It was my dad’s.”

Harold reached out a tentative hand, caressing the car lightly, then looked at Alicia. “Could I… Could I drive it some time?”

“I don’t know,” Alicia said slowly. “I mean, I might let a Harry drive this car, but I don’t know about a Harold.”

Harold laugh, recognizing he’d been out-maneuvered. Alicia knew she had won, but made a decision. “Well, maybe I’d let a Harold drive it, too.”

She opened the passenger door and held it for him. Harold climbed in reverently, and Alicia closed the door. After she had settled into the driver’s seat, Harold said, “Alicia. I’m okay with ‘Harry’ from you.”

Alicia smiled her warmest smile, her eyes twinkling, and caressed his hand. Then she turned to the business of starting the car and backing out of her parking slot.

“Do we have reservations somewhere?” Alicia asked.

“Sarafina’s at 6:30,” Harold replied. “It’s -”

“Downtown,” Alicia interrupted. “Valet parking?”

“Of course, and they’re open late, so we can walk to the theater, if a few blocks is okay with you.”

“Gotcha,” said Alicia. “Hang on!”

In spite of her warning, Alicia sedately drove through the suburban neighborhood towards the freeway. “Okay, Harry. You have twenty minutes while I’m driving to impress me with your wit and charm. Once we’re at the restaurant, I’ll be dominating the conversation.”

Harold immediately began to relay a humorous story about a working lunch meeting. While she drove, Alicia let him talk, but began to steer the conversation with careful questions. She asked him a few things she knew — where he worked and what he did — and a few things she didn’t know — where he grew up and whether he had any interesting hobbies. She’d heard about him from Teresa, of course, but she wanted to hear about him from his own lips, in his own words. When he responded in a cursory fashion, she prompted for more complete information. When he meant to go on longer than she cared, she interrupted with a new question.

Soon enough they arrived in front of Sarafina’s, the business of parking the car and being led to a table interrupting other conversations. Once seated, Harold looked over his menu at her. She had her eyes down, scanning the menu. “Alicia,” he said. She looked up at him. “You seemed almost interested in what I had to say. I feel quite turned inside out by your questions.”

“Of course I’m interested in what you have to say, Harry,” she said. “I’m sizing you up, after all.”

Harold was surprised at her response and sat back in his chair, saying nothing, blinking at her in surprise.

“Poor Harry,” Alicia said kindly. “You’re not used to a woman who speaks her mind.”

Harold considered his reaction to her then smile. “No, I don’t think I am. Have I resided sufficiently long under your magnifying glass? Have you decided anything about me yet?”

Alicia pursed her lips. “Nothing final,” she said after a moment. “I may decide to keep you.” She thought about it some more, cocking her head to the side. “But I have half a mind to kiss you quite thoroughly when the evening is over, so I do hope you’ll consider that before ordering dinner.”

With that, her eyes returned to the menu, now held between them as a shield against further questions. Harold reviewed the menu again, now realizing the garlic chicken wasn’t such a good idea.

The waitress brought their drink orders and took their requests for dinner. With the menu no longer providing a place to hide, Harold said, “Do I have a choice in any of this?”

Alicia smiled sweetly before changing the subject. Several times, Harold tried to return to the topic, but every time, Alicia neatly redirected him.

Dinner soon ended, and the two found themselves walking two blocks to the theater, Alicia clinging to Harold’s arm as they walked. She trilled a laugh as he told her a story from his childhood. He stopped walking and turned to look at her.

“I don’t get you,” he said.

“Play your cards right, and you might,” she said in reply.

Harold blushed. “That’s not what I meant.”

Alicia looked down for a moment. “I’m sorry, Harry. What don’t you get about me?”

“Well, you’re such a contradiction, so amazingly feminine,” he said. “But at the same time you’re so-”

He paused, unsure of what words to use. Alicia took pity and chose to help. “Demanding? Bossy?” She paused too, then said very slowly, “Bitchy?”

“Yes, exactly,” said Harold before thinking. Then he saw the steely glint in her eyes. “Well, except the last word. I wouldn’t have used that last word.”

“But you were thinking it.”

“Um-”

“Don’t you dare lie to me, Harold,” she said, stressing the ‘Harold’. “You were thinking it.”

“Yeah.” Harold took a half step away from her.

“So you don’t think feminine women have brains?” Alicia punctuated her sentence with a half step forward, staring up into Harold’s eyes.

“Well,” said Harold, realizing he was in trouble. “Um. Of course they do.”

Alicia cocked her eyebrow at him. “Of course they do,” Harold repeated. He paused, “Well, sometimes.”

Alicia smiled wryly at his honesty.

“But you don’t think they should have an opinion then?”

“Sure they can,” he said.

“But not express their opinion?”

“Um-”

Alicia took another step closer. “You’re not in trouble, Harry,” she said quietly. She took another half step, now standing very close to him, looking up into his eyes. “In fact, I’m a little flattered that you’re worried I might be angry.” She smiled. “Will you do something for me?”

“Ok,” said Harold, a mix of emotions overwhelming him.

“Will you think about my questions?”

He nodded. “Ok.”

Alicia’s smile grew again, and she rested her hand on his. “Thank you, Harry.” Then she bumped him gently with her head. “Do you think we should try to make the theater before the show starts?”

Later, the two of them used the drive to Alicia’s apartment to talk about the show. Alicia parked in the underground parking, then led them to her apartment door.

While she got out her keys, Harold said, “Thank you for tonight, Alicia. The evening started as a tragedy, but I had a very nice time.”

Alicia didn’t say anything, but opened the door, then reached out with a hand and grabbed Harold by his tie, dragging him into the apartment after her.

“Ack-” said Harold.

Alicia closed the door, then pushed Harold against it. “Hush,” she told him.

“But-”

She pushed her body into him, holding 3 fingers in front of his lips, shushing him. “This is where I kiss you thoroughly before sending you home.” Then she did just that, pulling his head down to meet her while continuing to press him against the door.

After a short eternity, she broke the kiss. “That was nice,” she said, staring into his eyes. “in fact…” She pulled him into another kiss, her tongue teasing against his lips, against his teeth, then exploring his mouth for a moment. All too soon, she broke the kiss again.

Then she grabbed his tie again, pulling him away from the door, and opened it again. Still using his tie as a handle, she pushed him out the door. “I expect a phone call,” she said. She let go of his tie. “Tomorrow.”

He nodded, still not talking.

“Good night, Harry,” she said, starting to close the door.

“Good night,” he said.

As the door closed, he turned away slowly, but the door opened again, her hand snaking out to grab his collar. She pulled him to her again, offering one more kiss. Then, laughing, she gave him a little push and closed the door again. He heard the lock click.

Over the next 9 days, Harold and Alicia saw each other 3 more times, once for lunch, once for dinner out, and once when Alicia made dinner for the two of them.

Over dinner, Harold admitted to being quite smitten by her. His feelings surprised him, and he was even more surprised to be admitting them to her. But she had a way of drawing him out, getting him to talk about things he’d never talked about. Alicia smiled as he admitted all this.

After dinner, she drafted Harold to help clean up. With the last dish dried and put away, Alicia took Harold’s hand and drew him to her bedroom.

With the bedroom door closed, Harold tried to wrap his arms around Alicia’s waist, but instead she turned him around and pushed him into the bed, then crawled on top of him. She crushed him to the bed with her kiss.

She broke the kiss and sat up, straddling him. He reached for her, but she deflected his hands, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the bed over his head. Still holding his wrists, she kissed him again, slowly.

“Leave your hands right there,” she told him. “Understand?”

“No,” he told her.

She looked into his eyes. “We do things my way, Harry,” she said. “Or not at all.”

She watched him as she released his wrists, and he made no effort to lower his hands. She smiled, then slid down and began unbuckling his belt.

“I want you, Harry,” she told him. She ran a hand over his crotch. “I take it you’re okay with that?”

He started to reach for her, and she pounced on his wrists, pinning them back against the bed. “I told you, we do this my way. Don’t make me tie you down first, I’m not feeling that patient tonight.”

She released his wrists, and his hands immediately reached for her again.

“Damn it, Harry!” she said, drawing back, then climbing off the bed entirely. “Can’t you follow a simple command?” She didn’t wait for an answer, but headed for the bedroom door, slamming it behind her.

Harold tarried in the bedroom for a few minutes, trying to figure out what had happened. Eventually he exited to find Alicia fuming on the living room sofa.

“What was that all about?” he demanded.

“Shut up,” she told him.

He started to open his mouth to defy her.

“I said ’shut up’. I’m going to explain something and I only intend to say it once.” She paused, giving him a chance for back talk, but he simply nodded. “Good. You can follow directions. Harry, you’re used to having everything your way, but that’s not how I work.”

“I know,” he said. “I-”

“SHUT UP.” She glared at him.

Harold’s eyes flashed at her, but he closed his mouth.

“I’m not like the other girls you’ve gone out with over the years,” she told him. “And I think that means I’m exactly what you need. And I like you.”

She paused, considering her next words.

“Until you’re ready to submit to my will — on anything and everything I demand — I don’t want to see you. Do you understand?”

“No,” he said simply.

“Leave,” she said. “Go home. Think about it.”

She pointed to the door, ignoring Harold’s protests. Eventually, he shambled out the door, closing it quietly.

Harold didn’t call the next day, or the day after. When two days pushed it to a week, Alicia was sure she’d seen the last of him. The next day, he called her cell phone. She checked the number and didn’t answer.

He left a simple message, “It’s Harold.”

“Harry,” she said into the phone futilely.

“Call me. We need to talk.”

“No we don’t,” she said, knowing he couldn’t hear.

Harold left messages each of the next two days, then stopped calling.

“You drove him away,” Teresa told her.

—

There was a knock at the apartment door. Teresa answered it. “Hello, Harold.”

He was holding flowers. “Is she here?”

“Those won’t change her mind,” she told him.

“I know,” he said. “They’re for you.” He handed them to her.

Dumbfounded, she said, “Thank you. I need to go. Can you put them in water for me? Vase in the kitchen.” She handed the flowers back to him, then grabbed her purse and stepped past him.

Harold moved into the apartment, closing the door. He moved to the kitchen, found a vase and began arranging the flowers.

He heard a door open. “Who was at the door?” said Alicia before she stepped into the kitchen.

She froze in the doorway.

“White roses? Interesting color choice,” she said.

“I thought Teresa would like them.”

She arched an eyebrow in question, but Harold was focused on arranging the flowers.

“You have to cut the stems,” she told him. She moved into the kitchen, found a knife, and began to help him. “Varying lengths works best.”

The two worked quietly for several minutes. When they were done, Alicia set the vase of flowers on the dining room table. “Those are nice,” she told him. She cocked her head. “In the future, if you get a few extra greens, you can help fill them in better.”

Harold nodded. “Next time, I’ll remember that.”

She turned to look at him. “Why did you bring Teresa flowers?”

He moved past her into the living room. She followed him, taking a place on the couch. Harold began to pace.

“You wouldn’t return my calls.”

“I figured if you couldn’t decide for 8 days, there probably was little reason to talk further.”

“Nothing you said made sense,” he told her. “It seemed like you wanted to treat me the way my father treats my mother. I love my mother, but I couldn’t live like that.”

“I’d never hurt you,” Alicia said.

Harold stared at her for a moment before responding. “This is hard. Could you just listen?” It was said softly, and Alicia nodded mutely.

“It didn’t make sense. Because-” he paused, struggling for words. “Because I like you. I don’t like my father. No one does.”

Alicia sat silently watching him as he paced around the room.

“I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about you, about what you said, running it over and over in my head. And I thought about the other times you’ve gotten your way with me, and how you always did it so playfully, how could I possibly ever say no?”

Alicia started to open her mouth, but Harold held up a hand, forestalling her.

“You were so angry, and all I did was try to touch you.” He looked at her. “You’re so beautiful, how could I not want to touch you? But it made you so angry when I tried.”

He continued his pacing. “I was sure I’d lost you, and I hadn’t even known I would have cared. I’ve never really cared very much in the past.”

He stopped pacing and looked at her again, staring into her eyes, pain evident on his face. “I wondered whether I’d find another woman as exciting as you.”

Alicia interrupted. “Are you sure you don’t find me exciting just because you realized you weren’t going to have me?”

“I thought about that, too,” he admitted. “But I realized the excitement was older than that. I thought about a lot of things. I thought about what my life would be like without you. And I thought about what it could be like with you. But in the end, I didn’t know what to do.”

He was standing over her, making her look up at him.

“Alicia,” he said sadly. “I don’t know what to do.”

Then, as an amazed Alicia looked on, he lowered himself to his knees in front of her, laying his head in her lap.

“But I hope you’ll tell me,” he said.

Open mouthed, Alicia stared at the top of his head. Then, slowly, she ran her fingers through his hair gently.

“Yes, Harry,” she said at last. “I’ll tell you.”

~~~~~~~

Harold 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 ;)

“What are you wearing?”

Your bedroom voice flows deep and seductive over the phone.

The sound of rustling fabric tickles your ear, your mind supplying the image of me.

“My green silk pajamas, I’m fooling around with my laptop, on the couch.”

You stretch on the bed. We both know your beautiful erection tented the sheet at the first silky caress of my voice.

My turn to ask. “Is my sweet man naked?”

An agonized moan is your response to the naked lust in my voice. Knowing that I find you so sexy, so desirable, never ceases to delight you.

Admit it baby. You’ll love it when I write about how hot you are. How utterly delicious it is to fuck you.

Balancing the phone on a broad shoulder, you run a hand down your stomach, dipping under the sheet.

I snuggle deeper into the pillows. “Can you picture me lying on the couch, legs stretched out, ankles crossed.

The line has a bit of static. Your response barely audible.

“What am I doing?” I repeat your question.

“I’m running my hand down my throat, into the valley between my breasts. You know that little shadowy area where they almost meet?”

The air leaves your lungs in a soft whoosh.

“My fingers are tracing up and down my cleavage, and it feels so soft and warm. Just like when you undress me sweetheart.”

“But tonight I have to undress myself.”

“I’m undoing the first button on my pajamas. My fingers are dancing across the top of my breasts, ever so gently.”

“Can you hear the silk whispering against itself baby?

“I’ve undone the other two buttons, my top sliding down. My nipples are getting so hard from the cool breeze on my skin and from thinking about you gloriously naked, stroking yourself. Hoping I’ll let you come.”

“Droplets of sweat rolling down that bare muscular torso. Glistening. I’d love to lick them, to lick all of your body, slowly, delicately, sensually”…

The vision in your mind causes your eyes to grow heavy. They close as your fingers wrap around your engorged cock, slowly pulling.

“I wish you were here to cup my breasts in those strong hands. Feel the round weight of them, how soft and sensual they are.”

“You know my breasts are so exquisite, sweet one. So round and full. I’d love to have your magnificent cock thrusting between them. Coming all over my breasts and neck. So yummy. Licking your seed from my hot skin and then kissing you with your taste fresh on my lips.

Little whimpering sounds are all that are being sent down the line now. Your hand quickens.

“I love when you touch my breasts. Licking and swirling my nipples with your warm, wet tongue. Then grabbing a nipple with your lips.”

You hips undulate under the sheet. Precum stains the expensive linen.

“But you’re not here. So much I have to do myself when you’re not here Tyler.” I delicately cup my breasts and begin to caress them with light, circular movements. So good to feel the silkiness of my skin, its warmth.

“I’m tugging on my nipples with my lips, gently until they tighten in rosy peaks. Now I’m rubbing the palms of my hands over both of them. Squeezing. Caressing. Imagining your hands. Your cock.”

I hear your hips writhing into the bed. You are a man hanging onto the ragged edge of orgasm. You are beautiful in your torment.

“Please Susan,” you beg.

Despite your pleadings you take several deep breaths, willing your body not to betray you. You know my instructions to you were very clear.

I reach out with my voice, caressing you with my love. “I want you to come for me too baby. So very badly. But not just yet, my wonderful love. Soon. I promise.”

“Now just lie back and share in my orgasm.”

“Oh that’s so good. You know how I like to slide my hand down my stomach, reaching under the waistband of my silky little panties. My fingers running through the tight, moist curls.

There’s a simultaneous gasp. Our ragged breathing in perfect synchronicity. Across thousands of miles we’re still connected.

“God, Ty, I’m so wet…my thighs are so slick and warm with wanting you…”

You grit your teeth as you squeeze the base of your cock.

Hard.

Coming now would ruin everything. You are determined to be a good boy for me. To do as I wish. To please me in all things.

I lightly caress my legs and tummy before touching my silken pussy. The wisp of panties falls away and I pour a small amount of fragrant cinnamon oil on my mound, the excess dripping down my outer lips. Lightly massaging my folds, I take my time, delighting in the wonderfully erotic sensations.

My own voice begins to pant with desire as I pluck and strum my clit. “I’ve got three fingers inside, as far as they’ll go. Do you feel that Ty? I wish it was your cock and not my fingers fucking me. Don’t you my darling?

God, it’s so good…”

“I’m pretending you’re inside me, so deep, so very deep… ohhh, you feel so good. My pussy embracing your cock… so tight, so wet, so hot…”

You momentarily drop the phone and reach down to squeeze your tortured balls. Your orgasm is roiling at the base of your spine as you listen to my gasping sobs and cries of delight and pleasure.

“Tyler… you’re going to make me come… fuck, I’m going to come so hard…”

“I’m coming, I’m com…”

The somber dial tone washes over you like a bucket of ice water. You frantically try to call back, but there is no connection.

Phone service in Eastern Europe can on occasion be unreliable.

Poor baby.

Your broad shoulders sag as you pray the hotel gym is open at this hour to work off the edge. That erotic tension wracking your body. Then you’ll come back to your room to see if your wireless can get an internet connection.

A thought crosses your mind as you dial up my blog.

You’ve been so obedient. So impossibly sweet in your submission.

Maybe, just maybe, I’ve written you a little story.

~~~~~~~

Long Distance 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 ;)

She woke slowly. They always slept soundly after. Now it was morning. It was the Day-After.

She heard him up. He was in the kitchen. A little smile came to her face. She knew his mind was already at work on a little surprise. He always made extra efforts to please her the Day-After.

It had started months ago. Just an offhand remark by a coworker. By the time of the remark, he was trained to please. To him, pleasing her felt very, very good.

It was something said by a female coworker. The coworker was complaining about men. How they were so selfish and ignore you the Day-After. He had heard the hurt in the women’s voice. Her hurt had hurt him – Was he less than pleasing the Day-After?

He had asked his Lady about it that evening. He had described to her what the woman had said. Told her his thoughts on hearing it. Described how he had felt. Was he guilty also? Was he less pleasing the Day-After? Had he hurt her like this other woman had been hurt? He needed to know.

She had pouted playfully when he asked the question. Instantly, she saw it in his eyes. The recognition of were he could be more pleasing. She had told him he was still pleasing the Day-After. But her pout already had his mind working. He was such a good boy. Always looking for ways to please.

That had been months ago. She had been so pleased how his mind had adjusted his Day-After activities. Her breakfast in bed had been the first surprise. Now it was part of his morning routine.

She looked up. There he stood by the bed size. Her breakfast tray in his hand. She smiled. To her regular breakfast, he had added strawberries dipped in chocolate. MMMM, she thought. He knew that she liked strawberries. He knew she liked chocolate. Today, he had combined the two for her pleasure.

She was very pleased and she told him so. She hear the little catch in his breath. She knew he was experiencing pleasure from pleasing her. He was her good boy.

What more would he do today? The Day-After, breakfast was just a start. She had told him many of her likes over the years. His ears had heard it all. His subconscious had recorded it all. On the Day-After, some of her words would come back to his mind. His mind would then form a plan to provide her with a little surprise of his love – a card, an email, a single rose delivered to her work, a DVD, dinner, a play – so many possibilities. She say in his eyes something more was coming. He needed to be extra pleasing the Day-After. Such a good boy. So well trained.

By the time she finished breakfast, he was dressed for work. They kissed. For a moment she thought about taking him again. But she remembered he had an important meeting first thing this morning. And she would need to get up herself soon. Life sometime interrupted …

As she drove to work, she thought about him and knew he would be thinking about her. He would be working on her additional surprise. She knew it was coming. She knew she would like it. She always found this anticipation pleasing. She smiled. He was such a good boy. He was so well trained.

Tomorrow, his attentions would return to a normal level. He will still be pleasing, just back to normal.

Yes, tomorrow, she thought, his attention will return to normal, unless she decided to make tomorrow the Day-After also.

She smiled at this last thought, got out of her car, and went into work.

~~~~~~~

The Day After 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 ;)