He had been in control as long as he
could remember, it was just who he was the first born son of strict
parents, he was expected to care for and guide his siblings. Success
was never praised in his family just expected; he had led his high
school team to the state championship not as a pretty boy quarterback
but as a linebacker. His natural abilities weren’t up to the
standards of college athletics but he made the team on heart and guts
taking the starting position his sophomore year and never
relinquishing it until graduation. This same attitude had gone into
his MBA he came out of college as a financial planner, now at 39 he
had his own firm, a recent divorce and an overpriced therapist
telling him he needed to let go of his controlling nature a little.
What the fuck did she know, being weak
had never solved anything, giving up control wasn’t a strength it
was a weakness. Giving up control is what lesser people did, real men
handled their shit. What exactly could he let go of? Should he just
let his business fail, maybe he should stop working out and get fat.
250 dollars a session and her suggestion was “just let go, you
don’t have to control everything.”
How the fuck did she think he paid her
fee. He wasn’t some trust fund kid working out mommy issues. He
earned his money precisely by not letting go and letting things
happen. He knew what happened when people let go. They began to
fall and falling wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted happiness, he
had cars, he had money, he had homes, he went to her because he felt
he could be happier and not having time to go climb a mountain or do
whatever it was most people did to get happy he felt five 250 dollar
half hour sessions might just help him achieve that elusive thing
that made others grin like idiots, when their lives were no where
near as fruitful as his had been.
It wasn’t the money that nagged at
him, it was the fact that he had paid for advice that turned out to
be so against everything he believed. But he wasn’t one to simply
give up and walk away. He was in fact unhappy and if he was going to
beat this unhappiness logic told him he had to try something
different. So maybe there was something to giving up control and
that is why he found himself standing in front of Black Box.
The music emitting from inside sounded
like some kind of punk rock techno mix. Definitely not the easy going
Jimmy Buffet vibe he would normally seek out from some sea side
tourist trap in his normal yearly attempt at pretending to relax. No
this place was dark, the guy at the door had things all over his
face, metal, plastic god knows what, he looked like his face had been
hit by a shrapnel bomb metal studs everywhere, pale as death just to
complete the illusion. The therapist had actually recommended this
place as a way to leave his comfort zone, and well she was right
about that he was out of his element. Cover charge paid and he
stepped into a new world. One where black was apparently the color
of choice, his Silver Suit and white shirt looked positively pastel
when compared to the leather, and dark lace that seemed to be most
favored by the Black Box Patrons.
At the bar a tall leggy dark haired
girl with a streak of blue caught his attention. Her body was tone,
something he appreciated but the nose ring and stud in her lip seemed
a bit much. She was talking to an adorable little thing with an
exaggerated pony tail of deep black, contrasting beautifully against
her powder white skin, a dark plaid mini skirt, and white blouse,
kind of a school girl type vibe but the fishnet panty hose sexed it
up to the tenth degree.
The girls seemed to be checking out
some of the males in the establishment, despite putting on a
decidedly hot for each other vibe. The men were of the variety that
probably played base in a band and worked at subway during the week
to pay their rent. Either that or they were taking a break from the
Occupy the sidewalk movement. There were a few harder to peg,
definitely putting on the air of bad ass and probably could back it
up. But he wasn’t here for the men, so they faded into the back
ground quickly as he concentrated on the two ladies close to the bar.
The tall table against the wall at
least let him feel like he was out of the way. Most of the looks he
was receiving were somewhat disapproving but that wasn’t exactly
unexpected. He had kind of chosen his suit as a fuck you, he knew
somewhere named the Black Box would be occupied by occupiers and his
suit emphatically said “yes I do conform to capitalist ideals and
have no problem using more than my share of resources.” The beer
was a little flat, and the glass wasn’t exactly clean, at first he
wondered if that was intentional but other glasses nearby confirmed
that it was par for the course.
He stared across the bar from his
little table at the pixie cut with the blue streak. She didn’t seem
to smile a whole lot, and looked increasingly uncomfortable at his
long gaze. The little one with her was a bit more playful looking
over from time to time and smiling frequently. It wasn’t until he
returned the little ones smile that the taller one took notice. She
began a hard stare of her own, ice blue eyes caught his attention as
she refused to back down from his glance. His smile was not returned
and he tried a disarming shrug to no avail. This one was tough, was
she jealous of his glances at her girlfriend, maybe she really was a
dyke, well if she was, she was a beautiful one that is for sure. He
looked down into his beer now half gone. Reaching into his pocket he
pulled out a cigarette and lit it leaning back as if to say, I am
going to watch all night pretty lady I don’t care how nasty your
looks get.
Through the haze of incinerated
tobacco, he began to wonder if there really was a possible end game
to this stand off. The girls hadn’t exactly given him the cold
shoulder the short cute one most definitely had interest in men, and
had paid particular attention to him since he had begun his vigil.
The taller one was closer to his normal pursuits other than the blue
streak in her hair and the jewelry in her face. The fact that she
wouldn’t give up so much as a smile drew his interest. And the way
she had interrupted his flirtations with the smaller one by pulling
her pony tail and then engaging her in a deep kiss had certainly
gained his attention. Fuck giving up control, what he needed was a
lay and although he wasn’t sure how this would play out he was
fairly confident there was one in there somewhere.
The silver suit flashed as the handsome
stranger, stood up, who was this guy so proud of himself sitting and
staring for a half an hour. It hadn’t chased him off when she had
stared him down and he hadn’t even flinched when she began kissing
Tiffany. Maybe he was a player, the guy looked like a top and Lela
had little use for a top. She had just gotten away from Jerry and
that fucking asshole had abused the fuck out of her submission. No,
if this guy was a top he could keep walking Lela wanted control she
had Tiffany, sweet little Tiffany so adoring and submissive, but she
also needed dick, this guy seemed attracted to Tiffany surely he
would fuck her, but would he have anything left to fuck me and would
he do it right or would he just be so overwhelmed at being under the
thumb of a dominatrix that he would falter and go limp.
“Do you girls come here often?”
His confident smile couldn’t coat the cringe worthiness of the
line.
“Obviously you don’t” Answered
Lela the tall one.
“What I mean is can I buy you ladies
a drink?”
“Vodka Martini for me, Grey Goose,
and something sweet for Tiffany.”
“Tiffany, I love that name.”
Again, awkward silence. But Tiffany did wrap a little hair around her
finger and smile at least.
“Nice Dog Collar, Tiffany.” He
tried one more time.
“She is with me Armani, are you in
the life?” The blue eyed girl stared sharing the first hint of a
smile.
“The Life?”
“You know tops, bottoms, dungeons,
whips, cuffs?”
He glanced over at the dog collar
around Tiffanies throat. “Are you serious?”
“Looks like we have a virgin, Pet,
are you looking for a new chew toy?” To this the pony tail bounced
up and down in an enthusiastic nod.
“I am not a virgin.” He was trying
to demonstrate confidence that was faltering just a touch.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of
everyone has to start somewhere, Armani.” Said the blue eyed beauty
most definitely showing a little interest now that she sensed
advantage.
Tiffany or Pet as Lela referred to her
Nodded again as Lela produced a collar from a black leather studded
over sized purse. At first he didn’t notice the collar as he was
admiring the tone in Lela’s legs. Her thighs had strength probably
a swimmer or maybe a lot of hours on an elliptical, the black pants
were skin tight and tucked into leather boots that ended just above
her knee.
“Do you consent” she whispered as
she leaned in close enough that he was able to breathe in a scent
somewhere between rose and leather unfamiliar to him as a perfume yet
enticing.
“Consent to what?” Sounding a
little harsher than he intended.
“To giving me complete control of
everything for the next few hours.” This time her smile was
pronounced, impish, inviting.
“Maybe?” He said, eyebrows raised.
“That is not good enough, Armani, the
answer is yes.” She said putting her knee into his thigh and
applying a little discomfort to him gritting her smile away.
“Yes.” He said, mulling over the
juicy possibility of far more than a knee pressing against him.
The yes had barely left his lip when he
found himself collared the blue eyes inches from his face, her
forearms against his chest delicate hands stroking his hair.
“Do you want a kiss?” She asked
her pleasant breath traveling over his lips, as her eyes scanned his
face.
“I do.” He said with a cocksure
smile.
Lela nodded toward Tiffany as she
backed away. “Pet, the man wants a kiss.”
Tiffanies hand travelled across his
belt line, her nose nuzzled in his collar He maintained eye contact
with Lela even as the pony tail tickled his nose.
“Give her attention slave, she has
earned it.” Tiffany moved her body against his she was warm and
soft her hand traveled lightly across his chest, and he did recognize
this scent it was Poison by Christian Dior. Lela pulled the chain on
his collar dipping his head down, his mouth watered at the first
taste of flesh gentle nibbles on the back of Tiffanies neck just
above her collar.
“Be gentle on her, She doesn’t
deserve to hurt yet, come with me pets, there will be time enough to
get to know each other later. Armani you should clear your tab. We
are going to my place.”
“My name is…” The slap completely
took him by surprise.
“Your name is Armani, if I am feeling
sweet or slave if you piss me off, but beyond that you have no name.”
The walk was unusual to say the least,
ahead of him pulling a leash was Lela, beside him also on a leash was
Tiffany bouncing along and smiling, snuggling she seemed as
comfortable as if they had been high school sweet hearts tucked under
his arm pulling away playfully then returning her wandering hands
joyfully exploring his torso. She really was a beautiful soul. Lela
on the other hand was a bit of a concern, just how far was she
willing to take this tough girl act? That thought was competing with
Tiffanies breasts that were also bouncing wildly as she half skipped
half walked keeping up with her long legged master and himself. The
sudden tightening of the chain around his neck brought him back into
focus.
“Do you have to pee slave?”
“Um no, not really?”
“Well this is where slaves and pets
pee.” He glanced around realizing he was in some sort of alley.
“You mean by this tree?” As he
said that he noticed Tiffany had pulled down her fishnets and hiked
her skirt. Smiling as always she seemed perfectly content squatting
and peeing right in front of him. The bush shielded her from anyone
walking past the alley but he was close enough that he had to step
aside to avoid a small stream of pee now running towards him.
“Maybe if you don’t have a
bathroom, we should go to my place?” He said suddenly wondering
what he had got himself into.
“I have a bathroom, it just isn’t
for slaves, if you want to pee, you should get on with it.”
It wasn’t the first time he had ever
pee’d outside but it was the first time he had ever done it on a
leash. Zip… ahhhhh. Lela tugged his leash as he was shaking out
the last few drops, Tiffany was giggling which caused him to look
over and then he caught an evil glance from Lela. He was about to
zip up when she pulled the leash very hard. Pet could you give the
slave a hand with that.
Tiffany wrapped around from behind him,
she searched for the zipper a little more searching than was probably
necessary. But her hands were welcome. The zip came without
excruciating pain which was a legitimate concern the way things were
moving around in his pants. No sooner was he zipped than his leash
was once again pulled taught and the little band was moving again.
Lela’s home was nicer than he had
expected, more pier one than the Munsters, he made the mistake of
sitting on the plush and springy tan couch and his ass probably
hadn’t even found the bottom of the plushiness yet when the leash
once again pulled tight and he found himself spread eagle upon the
floor.
“Not on the couch slave, I had hoped
you were at least house trained.”
The view was now beige carpet,
pleasantly clean, a leather boot not quite as clean the leash was
tight, under the soul notched by the heal. Her calf flexed and the
leather hugged, the other boot rocked back and forth as did the leg
leading to an ass wrapped in black, was it spandex no some kind of
cotton, stretching over the ridges of an amazing body, there was the
roundness of a beautiful ass, his eyes followed inside the thighs,
there was another ridge, her pussy, it was there he couldn’t see
it, not all of it but there was an outline and it moved as she
swayed. There was sex in those pants, soft, sweet, womanly sex he
could feel it even here the boot holding down his throat he longed to
move up, but that wasn’t going to happen, not right now at least.
He didn’t really understand the game yet, but he was learning. Be
good and good things happened.
Tiffany had been in the kitchen
apparently making drinks. The boot came off the chain. As Lela took
a drink a little vodka splashed on the back of Armani’s head. As
he got up on his hands and knees he felt a long slender finger
running where the vodka had just splashed. He heard the smacking of
lips, and looked up to see the same finger that had recently run
along his head emerging from candy apple red lips, the smile lingered
upon the lips until she caught his gaze and then he felt like his
lung was about to collapse as that well fitting boot from earlier
found a spot just at the base of his lowest rib.
The air rushed from his lips and
spittle splattered across the carpet. He rolled to his side and
laughed through the grimace. A boot came across his throat as he
allowed himself to be rolled on to his back.
“evil willy” rolled off her lips.
“what?”
“Evil Willy, can you remember that?”
“Evil Willy, why would I need to
remember that?”
“It’s the safe word, I should have
told you earlier but we hadn’t done anything dangerous.”
“Safe word? What is a safe word?”
“If shit gets to rough for you, you
scream Evil Willy”
“Sounds fair enough.”
“but if you yell it, you should know,
the nights over, I don’t care how hard your dick is or how blue
your balls, you mutter that and it’s game over, I kick your ass
out, rub one out and go to bed. So if your pussy ass wants to cum,
you better not mumble that damn word. Now what’s the safe word?”
‘Evil Willy.”
“Good you aren’t as dumb as you
look. Now I don’t want to hear that again ok.”
“Yes Ma’am”
“Its mistress, you address me as
Mistress.”
“Yes Mistress, and what should I call
her.”
“What the fuck do I care what you
call her, she’s a fucking pet.”
“So Pet then.”
“No asshole she is my pet, not yours.
Call her Tiffany.”
“Ok Tiffany, that’s a nice name.”
“Yea she is real sweet, if you hurt
her I will bust your fucking nuts and not in the good way.”
“Yes ma’am, Mistress, sorry
Mistress.”
“Are there any rules you would like
us to consider?”
“Rules like what?”
“Stuff like no scat, or stuff like
you don’t want to be fucked in the ass”
“Scat, fucked in the ass? What is
scat?”
“Never mind we are going to keep it
pretty basic I think.”
“So um yea please don’t fuck me in
the ass, in fact could you just leave that alone altogether?”
“Really, not even a little finger?”
She said waiving her pinky.
“I’m just not real comfortable with
that.”
“You’re not supposed to be
comfortable.”
“Well I guess I can go to the safe
word, if it gets out of hand”
“Stay the fuck away from that safe
word, Armani.”
“Well then stay out of my ass.”
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