The Interview [submissive female(s) needed]

He smiles and lets go of your arm.

"That's right, my cum was in your ass," he says calmly. "Before that, it was in my cock, and then you held your ass open for me while I fucked your asshole with my cock. And when I shot my cum into your ass, you screamed so loud you nearly got us both arrested.

"Now my cum is on my fingers, and you're going to eat it. Not because I'm going to hold you against the wall and shove my fingers in your mouth. Not because I'm going to threaten to tell your boyfriend what we've been doing. No, you're going to eat my cum because you want to.

And do you know why you want to eat my cum? Because right now, all you can think about is how fucking hard you just came when I fucked your ass. And how you can't wait for me to put my hard dick in your tight little asshole again. And you know that if you don't eat my cum right now, you'll never get your ass fucked like that again. You'll never see me again. And you'll do anything to get my dick in your ass again, won't you. You can't wait for me to bend you over and shove my hard cock all the way up your tight little ass again, to make you scream like you just did. You can't wait to find out what else I have in store for you, how else I'm going to make you cum harder than you've ever cum in your life, over and over. That's what you want, isn't it?

He held up his fingers. "So it's up to you. Eat my cum, or say goodbye."

The tears were back again, rolling down my face. I felt dirty, low, and beat.

I don't even remember who I am.

This is very obviously not a game, but he is playing to win. It is apparent to me now that his victory can only be attained through my degradation. How can I submit to someone who takes such a sadistic pleasure in making me miserable?

You already have, slut.

I grab his hand and I can feel him staring intently at my face. I cannot even meet his eyes this time, such a wasted gesture. We are not equals. We entered the world that way, but he has brought me too low to continue on with the notion that he and I exist without disparity. I raise his fingers to my lips, and take him inside my mouth.

And part of me dies inside.
 
He smiled. "That's a very good start, Gigi," he said. "But you've got to be much more specific. What are these things you wouldn't normally say? In your fantasy, how does he make you get him off first?"

He leaned back in his chair. "And stop talking like a nice girl. My subs need to learn to talk dirty. So tell me all your dirtiest thoughts, and tell me like a slut."

She swallowed hard, her heart beating quicker. She begin, then stopped. She nodded, starting again.

"Yes Sir... Like,..." she played with her fingers. " Fuck me Papi, Harder, Faster, Yes Papi, I want your Cum in my mouth...Fuck your little Slut."

She paused for a brief moment, taking a deep breath. "He usually makes me deep-throat 'em or jerk him off..so he'll last longer later."
 
The tears were back again, rolling down my face. I felt dirty, low, and beat.

I don't even remember who I am.

This is very obviously not a game, but he is playing to win. It is apparent to me now that his victory can only be attained through my degradation. How can I submit to someone who takes such a sadistic pleasure in making me miserable?

You already have, slut.

I grab his hand and I can feel him staring intently at my face. I cannot even meet his eyes this time, such a wasted gesture. We are not equals. We entered the world that way, but he has brought me too low to continue on with the notion that he and I exist without disparity. I raise his fingers to my lips, and take him inside my mouth.

And part of me dies inside.

The man watches you lick the cum off of his fingers, then smears your lipstick with the last few drops. Then he pulls you close to him and kisses you tenderly on the lips.

"Thank you, my darling," he whispers in your ear. "That was beautiful."

As he holds you, he pulls your skirt back down over your hips, covering your nakedness. Then he tucks his penis back into his pants, and holds you tightly.

"It means so much to me that you took my cum, in your ass and in your mouth. It makes me so happy to know that for the rest of the night, you will feel my cum, trickling out of your asshole, and you will think of me, and this moment."

He kisses you softly on the cheek.

"I want you to go back out and have a wonderful evening with your boyfriend. I've already made arrangements to take care of the bill, so have whatever you want, my treat. But then, later on, I want you to have your boyfriend eat your pussy. Don't take a shower, or even wipe your ass, before he makes you cum with his mouth. I want to know if he is smart enough to figure out that another man's cum is in your asshole."

He kisses you again. "And keep your phone close by. I will see you again very soon. You please me."

He smiles and walks out of the men's room.
 
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As you walk in to the bar, you see him instantly, at a little table for two close to the entrance. He stands and waves, a huge smile on his face.

"Mia!" he says, taking your hands and kissing you briefly on the lips. "You look absolutely beautiful. I'm so glad you could make it."

He is wearing a conservative blue suit, a white shirt, and a red tie. Impeccable.

"I have been thinking about you constantly," he says, holding your hand. "Here, I have a drink waiting here for you. It's a dirty martini, I hope you like it."

He takes his own drink and raises it. "To the beautiful red-haired girl in the green dress." He clinks his glass against yours and takes a long pull.


I flush with colour at the compliment and can't help grinning back.
He is so ridiculously handsome it makes my heart flutter. I sit down and wince slightly, and firmly holding the glass he offered take a large sip.

"Thank you" I murmur. "I needed to get out tonight! I can't think of a better way than with you"
He's smiles and nods slighty.
 
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I flush with colour at the compliment and can't help grinning back.
He is so ridiculously handsome it makes me heart flutter. I sit down and wince slightly, and firmly holding the glass he offered take a large sip.

"Thank you" murmur. "I needed to get out tonight! I can't think of a better way than with you"
He's smiles and nods slighty.

He smiles back. "I can't either. I was hoping I'd have a chance to take you on a date," he says. "I have a car outside and I'd love to take you on a romantic drive around the city. What do you say? Finish your drink and we can go right now."

He tilts his head back and drains his martini in one motion.
 
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She swallowed hard, her heart beating quicker. She begin, then stopped. She nodded, starting again.

"Yes Sir... Like,..." she played with her fingers. " Fuck me Papi, Harder, Faster, Yes Papi, I want your Cum in my mouth...Fuck your little Slut."

She paused for a brief moment, taking a deep breath. "He usually makes me deep-throat 'em or jerk him off..so he'll last longer later."

He nodded approvingly. "Very good, Gigi. I like knowing what you think about when you play with yourself," he said.

"Now Gigi," he went on, "what you just told me is a fantasy. Sitting here, with me, this is reality. If I choose you, Gigi, you will spend a lot of time on your knees with my dick in your mouth. I like have my cock sucked, Gigi, and I like having my cock sucked well. If I choose you, Gigi, how will you suck my cock? How will you please me?"
 
The man watches you lick the cum off of his fingers, then smears your lipstick with the last few drops. Then he pulls you close to him and kisses you tenderly on the lips.

"Thank you, my darling," he whispers in your ear. "That was beautiful."

As he holds you, he pulls your skirt back down over your hips, covering your nakedness. Then he tucks his penis back into his pants, and holds you tightly.

"It means so much to me that you took my cum, in your ass and in your mouth. It makes me so happy to know that for the rest of the night, you will feel my cum, trickling out of your asshole, and you will think of me, and this moment."

He kisses you softly on the cheek.

"I want you to go back out and have a wonderful evening with your boyfriend. I've already made arrangements to take care of the bill, so have whatever you want, my treat. But then, later on, I want you to have your boyfriend eat your pussy. Don't take a shower, or even wipe your ass, before he makes you cum with his mouth. I want to know if he is smart enough to figure out that another man's cum is in your asshole."

He kisses you again. "And keep your phone close by. I will see you again very soon. You please me."

He smiles and walks out of the men's room.


After he leaves I stare blankly at the opposite wall until minutes later when another diner enters the restroom. When I hear him finishing his wash up, I exit the stall and trace his footsteps, carefully avoiding the mirror above the sink.

I reenter the dining room and take notice of Michael, his eyes anxiously fixed in the direction of the restrooms.

But not anxious enough to come looking for me.

When he notices me, I see the relief flash across his face. I approach our table with purpose, ignoring the stares of the other patrons. I know I look a sight. I don't care.

"Michael, I need you to take me home."

I don't resume my seat, but rather stare Michael down, ready to pounce on any dissent vocalized. His relief turns again to worry."Friday, are you OK? What's wrong?"

I shake my head, "Not here, OK? Let's just go."

He nods, and stands abruptly.

"Let me just pay for our drinks."

"Already been taken care of." I rush him along as quickly as possible. I don't want the maitre d' coming over to explore the rat incident.

Michael is pulling away from the valet station before he turns to me, "Friday, what the hell happened in there?" His voice is gentle but incessant.

I continue to stare out the windshield. "There was a rat in the restroom, I freaked. I'm a little embarrassed, so if you don't mind, I really don't want to talk about it. I'm fine now."

This seems to appease him, and I can tell he's already formulating what to say when he gives the restaurant's management a stern talking to. Whatever.

We drive on in silence for several minutes. I begin to feel relief being surrounded by the interior of the darkened car. I glance over at Michael, and he's back to being as calm as ever. His girlfriend exits the restroom with a torn blouse, a tear streaked face and the scent of cheap sex, and he notices nothing amiss that the presence of a rat can't explain. He really is fucking stupid.

In a flash I have unbuckled my seat belt and am bent over his crotch. I undo his belt and zip, and pull out his flaccid cock. I pop it straight into my hot mouth and suck gently at first, but am very quickly pulling on him with a more demanding suction.

"Christ, Friday!" He moans. I've never done this before in the car, always worried that he would think me too slutty, but I can tell that he likes it. He's keeping his eye on the road, but his hips are making abbreviated thrusts up to meet me. We carry on like this the rest of the way to my apartment. If I sense him getting too close to coming, I pull back and tease his tip or balls until he's soothed once more.

When we reach my place, he's the one hurrying me along. When he feels that I'm fumbling with the keys for too long, he snatches them from my hand and opens my door hastily. He grabs my hand to pull me in after him, but I'm not about to let him take my control. I yank my arm back, and push his back until he stumbles further into the entrance. We make our way down the hall to my bedroom, him stopping every few paces to pull me in for a kiss. Normally I would love this, him being more aggressive. Right now it just leaves me cold, and each time I push his body back away from mine in the direction of the room. He grins after every shove, thinking it's a game. It's not.

We make it to my room and he grabs my body into an embrace at the foot of the bed. This time when I shove him, he doesn't move. I dig my nails into the nape of his neck, and then he releases me. I point to the bed motioning for him to lie back. When he's settled back against the headboard, grinning, I begin to strip. I tear open the rest of my blouse, and shove my skirt roughly down my hips. His eyes pop wide when he sees that I'm not wearing any panties. I leave my spiked heels on, and begin to climb up the bed to meet him.

When my form is straddling his, he moves to cup my breasts. I intercept his arms and place them back down at his sides. I grab a handful of his hair at the roots and tilt his head slightly before ducking in for a kiss. He is reciprocating passionately. I reach down between us and grab his hard shaft. He moans into my mouth and I feel him bucking up. I pull a little too roughly on his cock, and he breathes out, "Easy, baby."

With my ass high in the air, I scoot back along his legs and grip his thighs. I spread them further apart. I begin to nip at the insides, and I can hear him taking shallow, excited breaths. My face reaches his ball sac, and this too I lightly nip. A satisfied moan escapes him.

I look up at his face. Realizing that I've ceased my ministrations, he opens his eyes and find mine.

"Eat my pussy Michael." I say in monotone.

His countenance erupts into a smile, and I allow him to lay me down onto my back. Usually I enjoy Michael going down on me, he's good at it. But tonight I feel completely indifferent. I close my eyes, and try to think of nothing. If he senses another man's cum leaking out from within my asshole, he doesn't mention it. He is down there for awhile, and I become half aware that I'm approaching a climax. My hips begin to undulate against his talented mouth.

I cum. Mission accomplished. I'm thankful for the multi-second respite, but I am left feeling just as empty as before. Michael's face is above mine now, smiling with self satisfaction. Acting the accomplished maestro to my orchestra.

I reach back my hand and slap the stupid grin from his face.

He flinches slightly and pulls his brows together. I'm not strong, I know that it didn't hurt him. I meant to sting the pride out of him.

"What the hell has gotten into you tonight, Friday?" he demands.

You have no idea.

I begin to laugh, and sit up to kiss his face. He obliges me, eager to see his girlfriend return to normal. I break our kiss and reach my lips up to his ear.

"Fuck me Michael, please."

He is over me, tenderly fondling my breasts, searching out my tongue, trying his best to soothe my beast. When he enters me, it is with a deliberate gentleness. I close my eyes, and relish our motion. I let myself be swept away to a time when he was just Michael, and I was just Friday. A girl with a well guarded desire to be dominated, and nothing more. When I open my eyes again, he is staring at me intently, but I can detect only love in his gaze.

This is unacceptable.

"I want to ride you Michael."

His hands grip my hips, and he rolls us over neatly until I am on top. I lift my ass up until his cock slips from my pussy.

"You're going to fuck my ass Michael." I tell him.

He stares me down for a minute. "All right." he says, measured. I can tell that he is a little excited about the prospect, but also weary that this is just more evidence that his girlfriend has lost her mind tonight.

"We'll need some lube..." he begins to say, but I cut him off.

"No." I say rather harshly.

I'll let Sir's cum act as all the slick I need. I position his cock until his head is at my entrance. Without ado, I use the force of gravity to help me push it in. My nails leave tiny half moons on Michael's abdomen. I am still incredibly sore, and it feels like torture to take him deep inside. This is exactly what I needed.

Michael lets out a deep moan; my almost virginal ass has got to be tighter than my pussy. It hurts like a bitch, but I begin to ride him. I shut my eyes and concentrate on grinding into him each time that his dick is thoroughly encased in my ass. I am moaning, from the pain, from the memories. Michael takes this as a sign of my pleasure. He grabs on to my hips and begins to direct my rhythm. His harsher thrusts have me seeing stars. He is very into it now, closing quickly in on his release. My hands curl into tight little balls and I begin to pound on his chest. The volume of his gratification increases. Tears form in my eyes again and begin sliding down my cheeks.

His eyes refocus, and even in the dark he notices my tears.

"Friday," he moans tenderly.

"Shut the fuck up Michael!" I say and move one hand to encircle his throat. We are fucking like a couple of maniacs at this point.

When he is at his crescendo, he screams out, "Fuck me you stupid slut!"

I smile.

He comes. I don't.

His arms and head have collapsed, and he is a pile of overwrought nerves beneath me. I lift one leg up, and shift off of him. My feet dangle over the bed side, and I stand up. I don't look at Michael, though I can hear him panting. I walk towards my bedroom door.

"Michael, you need to go home now. I don't want you here."

I grab the robe that is hanging on the back of my door.

"You can let yourself out."

I make my way down the hall to the shower. I don't look back. When I am nude and under the hot spray of water, I begin to scrub harshly at my skin. I dry off, brush my teeth aggressively, and don't bother with any toiletries.

When I exit the bathroom, I expect to see Michael sitting on the bed waiting to talk. I'm relieved to see that he's not.
 
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He smiles back. "I can't either. I was hoping I'd have a chance to take you on a date," he says. "I have a car outside and I'd love to take you on a romantic drive around the city. What do you say? Finish your drink and we can go right now."

He tilts his head back and drains his martini in one motion.

I smile at him a little taken back.
"I'd really enjoy that" I reply a little nervously. I wasn't expecting anything like this, and I wondered what he was upto. I lift my glass up to my mouth and slowly finish the last few sips of the delicious drink.
He stands and offers me his hand. Pushing myself to my feet, I can feel my head start to swim a little. I internally curse myself for drinking this afternoon. As I take a step forward the dull ache starts up again and I wince. Placing my hand on the top of his arm again, I ask to be excused

"Are you okay Mia? You look a little pale?"
I nod, and walk over to the bar, and request a glass of water, and taking a few ibuprofen from my purse I swallow them quickly down. I feel his arm snake around my waist, and jump slightly. I hadn't realised he'd followed me over.

"Can I ask you a few questions?"
He nods and grins mischievously "I might not answer though"
"What is you name? and what do you have planned for this evening?"
 
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I make my way down the hall to the shower. I don't look back. When I am nude and under the hot spray of water, I begin to scrub harshly at my skin. I dry off, brush my teeth aggressively, and don't bother with any toiletries.

When I exit the bathroom, I expect to see Michael sitting on the bed waiting to talk. I'm relieved to see that he's not.

You pull back the bedcovers and climb into bed, exhausted. You can feel yourself fading as soon as you lie down... but then, suddenly, you hear an insistent knocking at the door.

Michael, you prick, you think to yourself. I told you to fuck off.

You whip back the covers and stomp across the apartment to the front door. You are still completely naked -- why bother with the robe? You jerk the door open, ready to scream at Michael --

It's not Michael. In an instant, you recognize the man at your door. It's the driver. His driver, the one from the other night, the one who watched you masturbate furiously in his back seat as he drove you home.

He smiles as you open the door. He does not look down to steal a look at your tits or your pussy. He looks into your eyes, and he hands you a small wrapped package.

"For you, ma'am. Good night."

He tips his cap and walks away briskly.
 
He nodded approvingly. "Very good, Gigi. I like knowing what you think about when you play with yourself," he said.

"Now Gigi," he went on, "what you just told me is a fantasy. Sitting here, with me, this is reality. If I choose you, Gigi, you will spend a lot of time on your knees with my dick in your mouth. I like have my cock sucked, Gigi, and I like having my cock sucked well. If I choose you, Gigi, how will you suck my cock? How will you please me?"

She smiled as he nodded-when she had thought about it, she'd always loved approval. Craved it actually-from teachers,parents, boyfriends. It her feel better inside knowing someone else was pleased.

She nodded, her eyes opening to their big, doe-eyed innocence once again, and she listened intensely as she heard his words. She bit her lip, nervousness setting in once again as she realized what she was in for. She was nervous, yes, but something...she couldn't quite pinpoint it out yet-gave her an andrenaline rush thinking what he was saying. If her boyfriend found out-he wouldn't be happy, she knew, however, she knew-and didn't want to- turn back.

"Well..um, Sir. I would use my tongue ring..see?" She sheepishly stuck out her tongue, revealing the white dot, matching her dress. " I'll lick the head of your cock, like a lollipop, staring, moaning while I do it...I'll tighten my mouth around it and twirl my tongue against it. I've heard I'm very good at sucking dick...Sir."

She stopped once again, looking down, her fingers becoming the main focus once again
 
I smile at him a little taken back.
"I'd really enjoy that" I reply a little nervously. I wasn't expecting anything like this, and I wondered what he was upto. I lift my glass up to my mouth and slowly finish the last few sips of the delicious drink.
He stands and offers me his hand. Pushing myself to my feet, I can feel my head start to swim a little. I internally curse myself for drinking this afternoon. As I take a step forward the dull ache starts up again and I wince. Placing my hand on the top of his arm again, I ask to be excused

"Are you okay Mia? You look a little pale?"
I nod, and walk over to the bar, and request a glass of water, and taking a few ibuprofen from my purse I swallow them quickly down. I feel his arm snake around my waist, and jump slightly. I hadn't realised he'd followed me over.

"Can I ask you a few questions?"
He nods and grins mischievously "I might not answer though"
"What is you name? and what do you have planned for this evening?"

He smiles. "The first thing I have planned is a drive around the city. Let's go get in my car, and I'll give you the answers to all your other questions."

He guides you outside and onto the sidewalk. You see his driver -- the same driver from the other night, the one who watched you spread your legs and masturbate for him on the drive home -- jump out of the small limousine, hurry around to the passenger side, and open the rear door.

You stumble toward the car, finding it difficult to walk straight. The man puts his arm around your waist to steady you, but you still trip on your way to the car. The world seems to be spinning around you. You see the driver's smile, the gleam from the car, and the lights from the streetlamps. As you start to climb into the back seat, you feel faint, dizzy. The last thing you remember is the man's hand on your hip, pushing you the rest of the way into the car.

*****

You waken slowly, coming back to the world with fragments of memories in your head. You open your eyes, but you cannot see anything. You try to see if you are blindfolded, but you can't move your arms. Or your legs. Or your hips. Or anything.

You gradually realize that you are lying face down on a bed, or a table, something. You are still wearing the same clothes from the bar. But you cannot move. And you cannot see.
 
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You pull back the bedcovers and climb into bed, exhausted. You can feel yourself fading as soon as you lie down... but then, suddenly, you hear an insistent knocking at the door.

Michael, you prick, you think to yourself. I told you to fuck off.

You whip back the covers and stomp across the apartment to the front door. You are still completely naked -- why bother with the robe? You jerk the door open, ready to scream at Michael --

It's not Michael. In an instant, you recognize the man at your door. It's the driver. His driver, the one from the other night, the one who watched you masturbate furiously in his back seat as he drove you home.

He smiles as you open the door. He does not look down to steal a look at your tits or your pussy. He looks into your eyes, and he hands you a small wrapped package.

"For you, ma'am. Good night."

He tips his cap and walks away briskly.

I take the package and watch Sir's driver walk away. There was a time, only a week ago in fact, that I would have been embarrassed to be standing in the threshold to my apartment, buck naked. Not now.

I lock the door and return to my bedroom. I sit propped against my headboard and stare at the package that I have set before me.
 
I take the package and watch Sir's driver walk away. There was a time, only a week ago in fact, that I would have been embarrassed to be standing in the threshold to my apartment, buck naked. Not now.

I lock the door and return to my bedroom. I sit propped against my headboard and stare at the package that I have set before me.

After a few moments, you give in and tear the wrapping open. The box top opens easily, and you reach in to find...

a tube of infants' diaper rash cream. "Extra Creamy! Extra Soothing!" it says on the side. You have to smile in spite of yourself. You look back in the box, and inside is a beautiful red choker bracelet with a single stone in the front.

At the bottom of the box is a note. You open it and read:

"Well done, my dear. Thank you for honoring me by following my instructions. I am very pleased with you and I want you to understand how you have pleased me.

"Three nights from now, go to the St. James hotel at 8 p.m. Wear the choker necklace and go to the concierge's desk.

"Do not fuck, masturbate or play with yourself between now and then. Except you may, of course, rub the cream on your poor, stretched out little asshole. Take good care of it for me. I have already grown quite fond of it.

"You have taken the first steps, my darling. Stay on this path and I will show you Joy. Ecstasy. Bliss.

"Everything."
 
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After a few moments, you give in and tear the wrapping open. The box top opens easily, and you reach in to find...

a tube of infants' diaper rash cream. "Extra Creamy! Extra Soothing!" it says on the side. You have to smile in spite of yourself. You look back in the box, and inside is a beautiful red choker bracelet with a single stone in the front.

At the bottom of the box is a note. You open it and read:

"Well done, my dear. Thank you for honoring me by following my instructions. I am very pleased with you and I want you to understand how you have pleased me.

"Three nights from now, go to the St. James hotel at 8 p.m. Wear the choker necklace and go to the concierge's desk.

"Do not fuck, masturbate or play with yourself between now and then. Except you may, of course, rub the cream on your poor, stretched out little asshole. Take good care of it for me. I have already grown quite fond of it.

"You have taken the first steps, my darling. Stay on this path and I will show you Joy. Ecstasy. Bliss.

"Everything."
I finish his note, and pick up the necklace. I tie my hair up in a knot at the top of my head. I fix the choker about my neck and fall back on my pillows. Within moments, I am asleep.
 
d
He smiles. "The first thing I have planned is a drive around the city. Let's go get in my car, and I'll give you the answers to all your other questions."

He guides you outside and onto the sidewalk. You see his driver -- the same driver from the other night, the one who watched you spread your legs and masturbate for him on the drive home -- jump out of the small limousine, hurry around to the passenger side, and open the rear door.

You stumble toward the car, finding it difficult to walk straight. The man puts his arm around your waist to steady you, but you still trip on your way to the car. The world seems to be spinning around you. You see the driver's smile, the gleam from the car, and the lights from the streetlamps. As you start to climb into the back seat, you feel faint, dizzy. The last thing you remember is the man's hand on your hip, pushing you the rest of the way into the car.

*****

You waken slowly, coming back to the world with fragments of memories in your head. You open your eyes, but you cannot see anything. You try to see if you are blindfolded, but you can't move your arms. Or your legs. Or your hips. Or anything.

You gradually realize that you are lying face down on a bed, or a table, something. You are still wearing the same clothes from the bar. But you cannot move. And you cannot see.


Fear and Dread surge through my body. I feel like I am in shock.
I try to turn on to my side, but the chains fastened around my ankles are keeping me on my stomach. They make a jingling sound as I pull first my left then my right legs.
My shoes have been removed, I realise with a sudden jolt of trepidation, and as I wriggle my toes, I note with a sigh of relief, that my stockings are still on.

My head is pounding. I feel like I've been hit over the head with a hammer. Inside my mind feels like cotton wool. I have no recollection. I have no idea what the hell has happened. I knew I had been in pain. And knew I had then invited out on a date with Mr Dom.

I'd been drinking during the day, but tried to sober up to go and meet him. I was mostly sober by the time I got to him. Not to mention I only had one drink at the bar, so it couldn't have been alcohol that landed me here I thought with an alarming shudder.

I remembered asking the bar tender for a glass of water so I could take some pain killers. From that moment, I remember nothing until now. Fright washes over me once more and nausea floods into my stomach. I heave. I desperately try to get my breathing under control in the hope that the nausea will disperse.

I must be dreaming. Must be having a nightmare.

My mouth had gone bone dry, and in stark contrast my palms are sweaty. I try to lick my lips to moisten them, but my tongue seems to be glued to the roof of my mouth, so I settle for chewing my bottom lip again.

I try to move my Right arm again, pulling much harder this time. And then try my left arm. Crossing my arms together, I pull down hard, and as the chains rattle, they bite deeply into my wrists, at which I yelp from the pain.

Pain. Yes PAIN! I was in pain, at the bar, on my couch. Where had that pain gone? Its was like someone had magically removed it. The pain that was biting into my wrist's was now at the forefront of my mind. The terror and alarm I am feeling kick in my survival instincts.


I scream then. I flail and kick as much as I can, and the restraining chains are jingle-jangling against the metal bed frame. I scream and scream, screaming so hard I thought I was going to pass out. I give a voice to my terror.

Realisation hits me and I start to shake violently from the horror of the situation and the thoughts that are going through my mind, which I know are true.

All my power has been stripped away.

I feel can feel the tears that are spilling over my eyes, mostly absorbing into the blindfold, however I feel a few stray tears that have managed to escape and slide down my cheek. For some reason this makes me cry more.

There are beads of sweat above my eyebrows.The front of my dress is damp and clinging to my chest, from perspiration. From Fear.

At that thought, I start screaming again, my screams reaching a terrifying crescendo.

But my screams don't last for long-
My lungs are working to hard. I can feel the excess oxygen flowing rapidly into my blood stream and I start to Hyper-ventilate.

I am hysterical now, screaming, coughing, breathing erratically, my heart feels like its going to explode and the tears are freely running down my face now...

































p
 
I finish his note, and pick up the necklace. I tie my hair up in a knot at the top of my head. I fix the choker about my neck and fall back on my pillows. Within moments, I am asleep.

The morning sun gently wakes you a few hours later. You smile and stretch -- and then you feel a dull, throbbing pain in your asshole.

Oh, that's right, you think to yourself. How could I forget getting ass-fucked by two different men last night?

You gingerly walk to the bathroom and sit down to pee. When you stand up, you see yourself in the mirror, naked except for his red choker necklace.

Your fingers drift absently up to your neck and fiddle with the choker as you let your eyes wander down your nude body. He's never even seen me naked, you realize suddenly. In fact, the only parts of my body he's touched are my asshole and my cunt. Oh, and my mouth, you think to yourself, when I was on my knees, sucking his dick in a public restroom.

You stare at your reflection in the mirror.
 
The morning sun gently wakes you a few hours later. You smile and stretch -- and then you feel a dull, throbbing pain in your asshole.

Oh, that's right, you think to yourself. How could I forget getting ass-fucked by two different men last night?

You gingerly walk to the bathroom and sit down to pee. When you stand up, you see yourself in the mirror, naked except for his red choker necklace.

Your fingers drift absently up to your neck and fiddle with the choker as you let your eyes wander down your nude body. He's never even seen me naked, you realize suddenly. In fact, the only parts of my body he's touched are my asshole and my cunt. Oh, and my mouth, you think to yourself, when I was on my knees, sucking his dick in a public restroom.

You stare at your reflection in the mirror.

I was to meet up with some girlfriends for lunch, but I call it off, feigning illness. I wander into the kitchen, and make some coffee. When it's ready I take a mug and sit at the kitchen table with it nestled between my hands. I stare out the window on the opposite wall until the steam is no longer rising.

I mindlessly play with my new choker.

Just like a collar.

I start to laugh aloud in my empty kitchen.

I guess I really am his bitch.
 
I was to meet up with some girlfriends for lunch, but I call it off, feigning illness. I wander into the kitchen, and make some coffee. When it's ready I take a mug and sit at the kitchen table with it nestled between my hands. I stare out the window on the opposite wall until the steam is no longer rising.

I mindlessly play with my new choker.

Just like a collar.

I start to laugh aloud in my empty kitchen.

I guess I really am his bitch.

Two days pass. It is 4 p.m., four hours before you are expected at the St. James.
 
Two days pass. It is 4 p.m., four hours before you are expected at the St. James.

I want to eat my evening meal now. I've no idea what Sir has planned, but I'm assuming that I'll need my energy. That's something that I haven't felt in days. I've been listless and irritable: carefully avoiding my friends, family, Michael's phone calls.

I eat and tidy up the kitchen and decide to go ahead and shower. I don't want Sir to find any fault with my appearance tonight. I scrub and shave, moisturize and pamper. I blow out my hair and debate whether to leave it down (my favorite way to wear it), or to pull it off my neck in order to show off my choker. I decide that Sir might be pleased by the gesture, so I style a loose chignon.

I carefully apply my makeup, deciding to apply a shade of red lipstick that I rarely wear. It compliments the choker.

I enter my closet and eye the contents critically. After holding up several options in front of my wardrobe mirror, I finally decide on a pale silver dress with a sweetheart neckline. It's too early to get dressed, and I'm too uneasy to take up a work project. I check the clock again for what must be the hundredth time in the last few hours.
 
I want to eat my evening meal now. I've no idea what Sir has planned, but I'm assuming that I'll need my energy. That's something that I haven't felt in days. I've been listless and irritable: carefully avoiding my friends, family, Michael's phone calls.

I eat and tidy up the kitchen and decide to go ahead and shower. I don't want Sir to find any fault with my appearance tonight. I scrub and shave, moisturize and pamper. I blow out my hair and debate whether to leave it down (my favorite way to wear it), or to pull it off my neck in order to show off my choker. I decide that Sir might be pleased by the gesture, so I style a loose chignon.

I carefully apply my makeup, deciding to apply a shade of red lipstick that I rarely wear. It compliments the choker.

I enter my closet and eye the contents critically. After holding up several options in front of my wardrobe mirror, I finally decide on a pale silver dress with a sweetheart neckline. It's too early to get dressed, and I'm too uneasy to take up a work project. I check the clock again for what must be the hundredth time in the last few hours.

At ten minutes after seven, your phone buzzes and you grab it up. It says "Private Call." You hold it for a beat, then answer: "Hello?"

"Friday, it's Michael. What the hell's going on? You won't pick up my cell, so I had to call from this other line..."

You realize you had picked up the wrong phone, your "real" cell phone. You glance at the clock. 7:12. You put the receiver back against your ear.

"... fuck my brains out, and then you throw me out of your apartment, and now you won't even talk to me, and I'm worried about you, Friday..."
 
At ten minutes after seven, your phone buzzes and you grab it up. It says "Private Call." You hold it for a beat, then answer: "Hello?"

"Friday, it's Michael. What the hell's going on? You won't pick up my cell, so I had to call from this other line..."

You realize you had picked up the wrong phone, your "real" cell phone. You glance at the clock. 7:12. You put the receiver back against your ear.

"... fuck my brains out, and then you throw me out of your apartment, and now you won't even talk to me, and I'm worried about you, Friday..."

It's strange hearing his voice. Almost like talking to a ghost.

"Michael? Michael, I, now is not a good time for me. I'm just heading out the door now."

"Friday, what the hell is going on with you? I haven't heard from you in days! Where are you going? Not anywhere with friends, I talked to Cat this morning..."

"You talked to my friends?!" I explode. "You don't talk to my friends! You don't talk to anyone in my life without my say-so!"

"Christ, Friday, I thought you might be in a ditch somewhere!"

He is quiet for a minute, and I am too. He has a point.

He begins again, but softer this time, "Friday, I understand if you need some space. I don't know what's going on with you, I'd like to, but I don't need to. But I do have to know that you're all right. Are you in some kind of trouble? Because I can help you, Friday. You just have to let me, baby." I swear he can hear me tense over the phone, and I know that he'll back off with the endearments for the rest of the call. He's handling me, but I find that I don't mind.

And I'm so close. To telling him that I'm in something way over my head. That I don't know how to stop it, that I don't even want to. I'm about to say that I know there's nothing good about the world I'm flirting with, that I'm not strong enough to handle these experiences...

"Friday, just don't shut me out."

I sigh.

"Michael, I have to tell you that I'm sorry about the other night. I was...going through some stuff and I took it out on you, and it wasn't fair. You don't deserve that, at all. And I do appreciate you being here for me. I do need some space right now, some time. Things are...I need to work some things out."

I hear Michael start to chuckle, and I begin to smile.

"You know the other night, I actually enjoyed most of it."

I start to laugh in spite of myself. "Except the part where your girlf...I turned all, evil Madame Friday on your ass?"

"Oh," he said, "she wasn't so bad. Kinda hot, to tell you the truth."

I smile into the receiver.

"Hey, Friday, you've got to get going, and I'm meeting some of the guys for a beer. Don't be a stranger, OK?" His tone is light, I know that he is subduing the concern in his voice for my sake.

"Yeah, I'll call soon," I say, actually OK with making the concession. "And Michael? You're a good man."

We hang up, I grab my purse, and head out the door.
 
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It's strange hearing his voice. Almost like talking to a ghost.

"Michael? Michael, I, now is not a good time for me. I'm just heading out the door now."

"Friday, what the hell is going on with you? I haven't heard from you in days! Where are you going? Not anywhere with friends, I talked to Cat this morning..."

"You talked to my friends?!" I explode. "You don't talk to my friends! You don't talk to anyone in my life without my say-so!"

"Christ, Friday, I thought you might be in a ditch somewhere!"

He is quiet for a minute, and I am too. He has a point.

He begins again, but softer this time, "Friday, I understand if you need some space. I don't know what's going on with you, I'd like to, but I don't need to. But I do have to know that you're all right. Are you in some kind of trouble? Because I can help you, Friday. You just have to let me, baby." I swear he can hear me tense over the phone, and I know that he'll back off with the endearments for the rest of the call. He's handling me, but I find that I don't mind.

And I'm so close. To telling him that I'm in something way over my head. That I don't know how to stop it, that I don't even want to. I'm about to say that I know there's nothing good about the world I'm flirting with, that I'm not strong enough to handle these experiences...

"Friday, just don't shut me out."

I sigh.

"Michael, I have to tell you that I'm sorry about the other night. I was...going through some stuff and I took it out on you, and it wasn't fair. You don't deserve that, at all. And I do appreciate you being here for me. I do need some space right now, some time. Things are...I need to work some things out."

I hear Michael start to chuckle, and I begin to smile.

"You know the other night, I actually enjoyed most of it."

I start to laugh in spite of myself. "Except the part where your girlf...I turned all, evil Madame Friday on your ass?"

"Oh," he said, "she wasn't so bad. Kinda hot, to tell you the truth."

I smile into the receiver.

"Hey, Friday, you've got to get going, and I'm meeting some of the guys for a beer. Don't be a stranger, OK?" His tone is light, I know that he is subduing the concern in his voice for my sake.

"Yeah, I'll call soon," I say, actually OK with making the concession. "And Michael? You're a good man."

We hang up, I grab my purse, and head out the door.

As you step outside, you see his driver, the same driver, standing by his car on the street in front of your apartment. He tips his cap.

"Good evening, ma'am," he says. "My employer would like to offer my services to you this evening. You are welcome to drive yourself or take a cab, but he wanted me to be available to you."

He smiles.
 
As you step outside, you see his driver, the same driver, standing by his car on the street in front of your apartment. He tips his cap.

"Good evening, ma'am," he says. "My employer would like to offer my services to you this evening. You are welcome to drive yourself or take a cab, but he wanted me to be available to you."

He smiles.

I feel my face break out into a goofy grin.

"OK," I say.

He helps me into the back seat. I remain at the window this time. I am under strict instructions not to masturbate! I hazard a look at the driver's rear view mirror out of curiosity. He is not looking back, and he doesn't for the several minutes that I keep my eye out. I have a feeling that he has received some rather stern orders himself.

There is something about being in this car that is putting me at ease. I feel like I'm being whisked away to another world, another life. One where my only concern is with pleasing Sir. I am excited to see Sir again, but it's a nervous excitement. As usual, I have no idea what to expect. As we pull in front of the Saint James, I begin to finger my choker, and I feel my panties go wet.
 
I feel my face break out into a goofy grin.

"OK," I say.

He helps me into the back seat. I remain at the window this time. I am under strict instructions not to masturbate! I hazard a look at the driver's rear view mirror out of curiosity. He is not looking back, and he doesn't for the several minutes that I keep my eye out. I have a feeling that he has received some rather stern orders himself.

There is something about being in this car that is putting me at ease. I feel like I'm being whisked away to another world, another life. One where my only concern is with pleasing Sir. I am excited to see Sir again, but it's a nervous excitement. As usual, I have no idea what to expect. As we pull in front of the Saint James, I begin to finger my choker, and I feel my panties go wet.

The driver pulls into the front driveway and stops at the main hotel entrance. He hops out and opens your door with a flourish. "Wonderful to see you again, ma'am," he says. "The concierge desk is to your right, just past the fountains." He tips his cap, climbs back into the car, and then he is gone.
 
The driver pulls into the front driveway and stops at the main hotel entrance. He hops out and opens your door with a flourish. "Wonderful to see you again, ma'am," he says. "The concierge desk is to your right, just past the fountains." He tips his cap, climbs back into the car, and then he is gone.

The confidence that I feel walking into the hotel lobby should come from the fact that, tonight, I look pretty fucking hot. It's amazing what a girl can do with 4 hours and a desire to please. But that's not the reason.

I'm feeling particularly stellar because of the sweet little red number gracing my neck. I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure that it has a meaning. It's significant.

I vere to my right and approach the concierge desk.
 
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