8 comments/ 80706 views/ 18 favorites I'm Not Like That! By: RightThere Thanks again to jacuzzigirl, whose editing made this a better story. I had three choices. I could go home and drown my sorrows in a carton of Ben and Jerry's. I could order something to eat. Or I could get my wine glass refilled - for starters. I motioned to the bartender, and decided not to decide right this minute. I was looking good. I should have been, after the effort I'd made getting ready for this date. The dress was new, and pretty darned hot, frankly. The shoes were new. I had a pleasant tingle of anticipation. Then the jerk from the online dating service showed up. Thank goodness I figured out that it was him -- a good 10 years older than he had claimed and wearing a suit that looked like it dated from the seventies -- before he reached me and asked if I was Beth. "Beth? No, sorry, you have the wrong girl." "You're not Beth? But the dress..." Damn, I had told him what I would be wearing. "Sorry. I would know, don't you think?" He moved down the bar to wait for his date, but I knew he suspected I was blowing him off. He was going to bore holes in my legs if he looked at them any harder. So here I was, in a fantastic, sexy dress on a Friday night, alone at the bar of a really posh restaurant,. I wondered if I looked like a classy call girl. "Close call?" I was startled from my thoughts and I realized that a high heeled royal blue pump had come into my line of vision. My gaze traveled up a pretty calf, to an obviously very expensive suit, and finally landed on a face framed in soft light brown hair, smiling in a knowing way. She was standing in what would be called "my space," but I doubted if she was being intentionally intimidating. More likely, I thought, she was very successful, or very rich, or probably both, and used to being the center of her world. Judging by her clothes and jewelry, the rich part seemed like a safe bet. She looked like she spent as much for a haircut as I did for a car payment. It was hard to say what it was about this woman that made her so stunning. She was too old to have the classic model sort of beauty. Forty or so would have been my guess, more than ten years my senior. A darned good forty, though. She made my breath catch in my throat, though, and I fumbled around before I managed to get out, "Oh. I'm afraid so." It was her eyes as much as anything. Where most people find it awkward when eye contact goes on too long, she seemed completely relaxed looking into my eyes, like there was no reason in the world ever to look away. "I thought so." Her voice matched her appearance, a velvet contralto. She was so poised. So elegant. "I'm dining alone tonight. Why don't you join me? At least he'll think you really were here to meet someone." Was she nuts? I had never even seen her until fifteen seconds ago. The crazy thing was that I actually considered it briefly, just because she had such an overwhelming presence. "Oh, I couldn't, really. Thanks for asking, though." "Of course you could. You shouldn't sit here alone, feeling sorry for yourself." She boosted herself onto the stool beside mine and motioned for the bartender. I had to admit that pretending that I was here to meet her would get me out of an awkward spot, so I didn't definitely say no. "A vodka martini, rocks, please," she said when the bartender arrived. "And another of whatever my friend is drinking." Good lord, how could my wine glass be empty again? Nerves, I suppose. "Oh, and would you tell the hostess that there will be two of us now? And I've changed my mind; I'd like to be seated at a banquette." As the bartender headed off, she turned to face me fully, and said with a smile, "Banquettes are so much nicer when you're with a date, don't you think? Nobody can tell what's going on under the table." She winked. Did that mean what it seemed to mean? Date? What was going on under the table? It seemed like she was flirting with me. If she was, she was being awfully damned presumptuous. I knew I should get up and walk out the door, but there was a magnetism about her that kept me seated. "I'm Laura," she said. "I'd shake your hand, but I guess we don't want it to look like we just met, do we?" She leaned over and kissed me. Not a peck on the cheek, a kiss. A soft, sweet kiss, yet somehow demanding. My head was a little light, and I thought about how much wine I'd had. Not enough to account for the way I felt. I hadn't managed to get a word out since, "Oh, I couldn't." It wasn't that she blustered. On the contrary, she was serene and deliberate. It was just some outrageous confidence that never entertained the notion that things wouldn't go as she wanted. The bartender returned with our drinks, and said, "The gentleman," indicating my original date with a glance, "would like to buy these." She didn't hesitate. "Tell him no thank you," she said, and she laid her hand on my thigh, glancing down the bar with a possessive look. "That should convince him that you're with me, don't you think?" I couldn't feel a thing but her hand on my leg. It was nearly a jolt, like electricity. I cleared my throat, and said, "It, um, might be a little over-convincing." I didn't pull away, though, and she didn't move her hand. "So, that was a blind date?" Why was it always so embarrassing to admit to meeting someone online? It seemed even more embarrassing to admit that to her. She wouldn't understand resorting to meeting someone online. "Something like that. How could you tell?" "Oh, I just watch people. I like to think I'm pretty good at sizing them up." I smiled a little ruefully, and said, "And that's how you sized me up?" "Oh no. I get much more than that from you." I was trying to figure out how to ask what that meant when I was saved by the approach of the hostess, telling us our table was ready. "Come," Laura said, holding out her hand and silently asking for mine. No, not asking, really. Assuming. I hadn't said that I would join her. But I gave her my hand. Don't ask me why. We crossed the crowded restaurant and arrived at a curved banquette, big enough for four. I slid in and sat toward one end, assuming that she would sit across from me, but she slid in almost to the center, and said, "Come sit beside me." Who did this woman think she was? Yet, it was hard not to do what she asked. Again, "asked" wasn't really the right word. I slid in to the seat beside her, but I felt incredibly self-conscious as I did it. Nobody could think we were just two acquaintances. She ordered champagne, again without asking me, and the hostess went away, saying that she would send our waitress. "I think I heard you say that your name was Beth? Or rather," she said with a slight chuckle, "I guess I heard you say it wasn't." I blushed at that, and said, "I'm sorry. Yes, Beth. Nice to meet you, Laura." This was feeling more like a twilight zone episode by the minute. "Have you been here before?" she asked. "Only to meet someone for drinks. It's...well, it's a bit expensive for me." "We'll come here more often, then." I wondered again if that was what it sounded like. "Um, Laura, I'm going to be awfully embarrassed if I'm reading this completely wrong...but...well, I'm kind of...straight." Her eyes never left mine, and she didn't bat an eye. "And yet you're here." She extended her index finger and gently raked the tip of a perfect nail up from the hollow of my neck, until it barely brushed my lips. I don't remember actually shivering, but I did realize that my back was relaxing out of the arch it had somehow formed. I would almost certainly have slapped any guy who did that, but I seemed helpless, glued to my seat. At least I knew that I wasn't imagining things. "Laura, I met you ten minutes ago. You're a bit...intense." We were interrupted by the waitress, who poured champagne and took our orders. "We'll each have the grilled shetland salmon in balsamic reduction, please." Then to me, "It's heavenly. Wait until you try it." When the waitress had gone, I couldn't help saying, a little peevishly, "I have a mind , you know. What if I don't like salmon?" "My beautiful Beth." She laid a hand gently on my thigh, and I got that jolt again. "No, you're not reading this wrong. You know that. But, Beth, I insist that my girls be very, very obedient." Something flopped in my gut as I realized what she meant. "That's your thing? I'm not your girl, Laura. I'm not even your date." Her hand tightened on my thigh, close enough to a pinch to be uncomfortable. "Mistress. Address me as Mistress unless I tell you differently." "You're out of your mind." "Leave then. I'm not stopping you." I could tell I was turning crimson, partly from embarrassment and partly from anger. But I didn't get up. The fact was that the whole domination thing did have a dark fascination for me. I never thought in a million years that I would actually participate in anything, but when I visited my favorite erotic story website, I often found myself drawn to that section, and when I masturbated to them, I had some of my most intense orgasms. Could this really have some appeal to me? I didn't know, but I didn't seem to be capable of getting up and walking out right now. "Darling Beth, I told you I'm good at sizing up people. Of course you aren't leaving. Look." Her gaze traveled down from my eyes, and settled on my nipple. My gaze followed hers, and if it was possible to turn any redder, I did then. The halter dress I wore did nothing to hide the fact that my nipples were rock-hard. "Look at you. You want this, Beth. You're wet, too, aren't you?" "I am not!" But as I thought about it, I realized that might not be entirely true. Was I? I moved my thighs slightly to try to tell, and realized that I might be, a little. "Pet, I insist that you be absolutely honest with me at all times." "I'm not, I said! And I'm not your pet." "Show me." "What?" "If you're not wet, show me." Her hand traveled up to the top of my thigh, taking the hem of my dress with it, and she tried to pull the leg closest to her away from the other. "I will not! Stop it," I hissed. Yet the only resistance I could offer was verbal. My body betrayed me as my legs parted. Laura hiked my dress up nearly to my waist, and her other hand pushed enough of the tablecloth under the table that she had a clear view of my legs...and more. My mouth was so dry that I took a gulp, rather than a sip, of my champagne. "Pet, Pet, Pet...What shall I do with you?" There was a spot of moisture. "Do with me?" "Well, yes, Pet. I can't let you get away with being untruthful. I'll have to punish you." "Like hell! This is just...well...it's just that I'm kind of curious. About you, and, um, you know, how this works." Of all times, that was the moment our dinner arrived. As the waitress was setting our plates and refilling out glasses, Laura's hand never left my thigh. In fact her pinkie flirted with the edge of my panties as though she was going to slip it under. Thank God the tablecloth was back in place, at least. I could tell what was going on, but I thought, or at least I desperately hoped, that no one else could see anything. "Damn you!" I snapped when the waitress was gone. "You can't do that!" This time it was a pinch. On the inside of my thigh. Hard. I think I only avoided crying out because it was such a shock. "I know you're not trained yet, Pet, but you really can't speak to me that way and not be punished. Now eat. I'll need to think about this." Why didn't I argue? Why hadn't I stormed out? Worst of all, why was I getting wetter? Even as I tried to argue with myself, it crossed my mind that I was glad I had shaved and trimmed and primped before my date. My god, what was I thinking? It wasn't like she was going to see my pussy! Still... I could vaguely tell that dinner was very good, but I wasn't really tasting much. I was drinking more champagne than I really should have, and my mind was racing, but it didn't seem to be finishing off my thoughts into anything coherent. "I've decided how to punish you. It won't be much, since you didn't know any better." Well, that certainly got my thoughts back on track. "Punish me my ass. There isn't going to be any punishing." "Up to you, Pet. If you'd rather, I'll put you in a cab and you'll never see me again." No! I didn't want that. Yes, I did. No! Damn her! "I'd...I'd rather stay." "Hmmm." She knew exactly what she was doing. "Can we just finish dinner?" "No, Pet. You can leave, never finding out. Or you can ask me to punish you." "Finding out what?" "You know very well what." I did, of course. I was insanely curious. I could feel my pussy every time I moved, and her hand on my thigh seemed like the center of my universe. Maybe if I went to the restroom and locked myself into a stall and came, I could start to think. Who was I kidding? That would make matters worse. I couldn't let her do whatever it was she had in mind, though, let alone ask for it. Could I? "Laura..." "Mistress." A long pause, and then, "Mis...Mistress. I'd really like to stay. For a while." "That's not what I asked for, Pet." Another pause. "Mistress...how would you punish me?" She smiled, just faintly. "You know that's not how it works." "I'm...I'm ready to be punished." "That wasn't asking." Damn her, damn her, damn her. "Please. Please...punish me." It nearly took my breath away to say it. "For what, Pet?" "For what I did earlier." She just looked into my eyes, waiting for more, the picture of patience. "For saying you couldn't." "Couldn't what, Pet?" "You know. Touch me...like that." It practically hurt to get the words out. "Play with your pussy, you mean? Your wet pussy? While the waitress was here?" "Yes." "But you know now that I can." "Yes." "You want me to, in fact." The longest pause yet. "Yes. Mistress." She beamed at me. "Good girl." I was incredibly pissed off at myself that it made me feel good to hear that. "Take off your underwear, Pet." Take off my underwear? That was my punishment? It could be a lot worse, I guess. As turned on as I was getting, it might even be a good thing. Heck, it wasn't like I was so innocent I had never been without underwear on a date. What a relief! Maybe while I was in the restroom taking them off, I might just touch myself after all. "Excuse me, then. Mistress." "Excuse you? Where are you going?" "To the restroom. To...you know." "I can't imagine what I said that made you think you could go to the restroom." "But, I can't do it here!" "Pet, you will do it here. Now. You're trying my patience." I wondered how long a face could stay red. Looking around to make sure nobody was looking, I raised my dress under the table, pretending to lean forward to look at something so that I could rise slightly and slide it up under my butt, and moved my fingertips to the waistband of my panties. I must have stopped and started five times before they had moved an inch, certain each time that someone had turned our way and would be able to tell what I was doing. I finally reached the point where they wouldn't go any further without raising my butt off the seat. Should I do it slowly, and try to pretend nothing was going on? Should I wait for just the right moment and get it over with quickly? Quickly, I decided. Waiting a minute until I was absolutely sure no one was paying any attention, I raised my butt off the seat as little as I thought I could, and slipped my panties down below it. Relieved, I was sure I could get them the rest of the way off without anybody noticing, and I did, although it was a bit awkward at one point when they hung up on a heel. The embarrassment hadn't lessened, but it surprised me to realize that I felt a little proud of myself at the same time. "They're off, Mistress," I said, as I reached for my purse and opened it to stash them. "Uh, uh, uh." She touched a point on the tablecloth midway between us. "Put them here." It seemed that every time I thought my mortification was at its maximum, she proved me wrong. I slowly raised my hand to the table, and brought it back empty. I was so glad I had worn pretty ones...you know, um, just in case. She didn't seem pleased with them, though. "From now on when I let you wear underwear, it will be what I've picked out. Put your shoes on the seat beside you." As I slid my heels off, it crossed my mind that if I continued getting chewed up inside like this, I might vomit before the evening was over. I didn't want to agree, but I couldn't seem to make myself say no, either. When I had done as she asked, I just waited passively. There didn't seem to be much point in asking any questions. "From now on, unless I tell you differently, this is how you will dress. A dress only. I'll pick it out. Maybe sometimes a blouse and skirt. But nothing else. Not even jewelry, except for what I give you." Resisting seemed like it would just be exhausting. I could worry later about telling her there wasn't going to be any from now on. "Ready for your punishment?" "What?" "You heard me." "But I thought...I thought this..." "No, my silly pet. This was just a little lesson. There will be lots of others." Like hell there will be, I thought. She looked at me and waited. And waited. Until something unspoken passed between us, and we both knew that I was going to do whatever it was. "Come for me, Pet." That was just ridiculous. It would be a huge relief to come, but I was sure I couldn't. I guess it must have been a while that I sat there dumbfounded. "Pet, are you going to come for me, or are you going to leave?" Damn her. I couldn't quit now. But surely I couldn't come right now, either. "I don't think I can." She fished in her purse and pulled out some sort of clamp, and laid it on the tablecloth in front of me. "I know it takes some getting used to, Pet. We'll figure out something else for now." Deep breaths, deep breaths. I could put up with this for an evening; there was no point worrying about a later that wasn't going to happen. I wasn't touching that damned clamp. My hand slowly made its way under the table and into my lap. "I can touch myself. But I don't think I can come." "You'll learn, Pet. We have all night." We didn't, though. We finished dinner some time ago. She had already signaled the waitress for the check. We were talking minutes, and I doubted if I could do it if we had hours. "Precious, I'll order us cognac. Or whatever it takes. You have as much time as you need." Even though I recognized how ridiculous this was, I was deeply grateful that this woman who was putting me through the most humiliating experience of my life was suddenly being so sweet about it. I actually had very warm feelings toward her at that moment. She really seemed to care about me. But she sure cared in some perverse way that was new to me. Maybe I could do this. God knows it would be nice to come, I just didn't know if I could under the circumstances. She seemed to have a sense of what was going through my head. "I know you don't understand yet, Pet, but I don't mistreat my girls just for fun. I'll really take very good care of you." God help me, I believed her. She was right that I didn't understand, but I suddenly realized that there was more feeling involved here than I had thought. Her idea of taking good care of me was a strange one, but I knew that she meant it. "I'll try, Mistress." "Good girl, Pet. I'm proud of you." She was proud of me! My fingers found my center, and spread some slipperiness up and over my clit, and I started to think that something might happen after all. If I wasn't out in public, I think I could have come from a breeze. If I could just relax... I'm Not Like That Lying there with a girl I don't know sobbing gentle against me, staring at the ceiling and the lights dancing from the street outside. How did I get here? Most guys would have loved this situation, and most guys would have been easily swayed but this twenty year's old cries and heartfelt tears, mistaking passion for regret and uncertainty. As a nineteen year old myself, I'd had my share of emotional feedback and so could sympathies. I wasn't at all happy with this situation tho. She was crying because her boyfriend had broken up with her earlier on tonight, and because I was the only sole at the party willing to listen and laugh at her jokes. She attached herself to me, trying to bring to her heart stability and control by using me, and playing with my emotions. I was angry at her for doing this, but also sympathetic. I knew what she was going through, and not by experience, but by the ability to think through what her motives are and what her actions mean. I held her against me as I lay on her bed, being invited upstairs into her apartment and into her bedroom by her, telling me she was too drunk to navigate the halls without a steady hand, and a strong frame to lean on. I was here because as I walked to my car after the party, I saw her standing out the front of the house, already having said goodbye to me, sobbing silently as she tried calling someone for a ride home. Annoyed at myself for helping her, I walked her to my car, into the passenger seat, and even drove her to her house, and walked her to her door. She held herself close, her head resting on my shoulder as her right hand scrunched my shirt inside her fist, holding onto me tight as she shuddered, her breathe shaking as she fought herself from crying. Wriggling her feet around as she let pour tear after tear onto me, using my shirt to dry her eyes. I had seen her lover at the start of the party, seen his eyes fill with puzzle and uncertainty every time he went to talk to her. She seemed so happy and bouncy before he took her aside and let go with what was on his chest. Leaving her to drink and laugh off what had been said. She was nice and offered to pour me a drink while she was at her 5th for the night, beginning a conversation without me even talking. A nod and a smile and suddenly she could confide in me, and rely on me to keep her company for the night. She clenched her teeth and breathed through them shakily again, tightening her grip on my shirt as she sobbed over and over again. Rolling my eyes, I placed my left hand on her shoulder and squeezed, not knowing what else she needed. As I did this it almost made it worse, she began openly crying, really pouring out as the barrier she'd built finally collapsed, washed away with the tears the flowed. "Sshhh" I hushed, blowing into her hair as she wrapped her right leg around mine, crying deeply now, trying desperately to bury her head in my shoulder. She wailed softly for a short time, before finally calming down and breathing deeply, still shaking but a lot calmer. "Th – Thanks for being here fo – for me," she said, too loud to be a whisper, and to hoarse to be soft, but as quiet as a whisper, and as meaningful as a soft word. "I really needed this." She let go of my shirt and slid her right hand down my body, reaching my belt buckle before I could stop her. I grabbed her hand and held it, stopping her fingers from trying to unclasp my belt with my left hand. "I'm not here for you Liz." My harsh voice stabbed at the room, filling the corners with a gruff and dry voice, not angry or vicious, but truthful. In fact I was here because I couldn't find a window in which to detach myself from her after I helped her out of my car. I was planning on just pulling up, watch her get out and close the door, then drive off, but she did need help getting out, and I didn't exactly feel it was nice just pushing her out. She moved away from me, propping herself up on an elbow and loosening her grip on my hand, wiping the tears from her eyes franticly with her left hand. "Don't you like me?" her right leg moved against mine and I knew she had picked up enough resolve for me to be a bit more forceful without her falling to pieces. Don't get me wrong, this girl was pretty by all means. Soft brown hair flowed down a sculpted frame, curves in the right places, sparkling eyes that said confident yet innocent, she could catch anybodies eyes if she wanted to. But I guess I wasn't just anyone. Still holding her right hand, I lent over her, making her role onto her back with me on my side, moving again so my left leg was over her and the bed, my shoe making contact with the floor. She was Moaning slightly with the motion, probably thought I was going to push up against her body and show her, like every other feeble male out there, how much I 'liked' her. Letting go of her hand and pushing against the bed I got up, standing next to the bed of a bewildered girl wondering what I was doing. Without a word, and after a short pause of looking her in the eyes, I patted down my rumpled shirt and turned to leave. "Wait, where are you going?" Liz also got up off the bed, standing so she had the moving lights of cars emanating through the window onto half her face, making it hard for emotions to be read. I had my hand curled around the door knob, feeling the cold metal against my rough skin. She really thought I had intended on making something of this with her? It became blatant that she didn't know me. "I'm not your boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, and I'm not looking for a one night stand, so I'm going home Liz." Opening the door to the hallway, I walked out, moving along the soft carpet, making my way to the front door of her place. "Can't you stay anyway?" She followed me out to the hallway, a hand lightly on her bedroom door frame. I stopped, head lowered and looking back over one shoulder, she looked like she was going to go right back to crying. Her tears weren't for me, and I didn't feel sympathy for her emotions now. I wasn't her friend, nor did I know her in the slightest, and she wanted me to spend the night with her? Maybe she felt vulnerable and I was giving her some form of protection, or she just wanted to pretend like I was her boyfriend one last time. Either way I wasn't the man for the job. "I'm not the cuddle up to type, Liz" I walked towards her front door again, determined to leave if she didn't talk again, not wanting to stay any longer than I had to. After all, she was looking for something that I couldn't provide, and even if I could, I didn't want to. As I opened her front door and left, getting to my car out front and putting the keys in the ignition, I saw a car pull up behind me, a man stepping out and walking with some difficult to Lisa's front door, and entering without knocking. I'd seen him before, the one who'd spoiled Lisa's night before it started, her ex boyfriend. I rolled my eyes and sighed, so tempted to just drive off and leave him to her or her to him, but the good side of me kicked in, telling me to at least check him out before leaving. I planned to do just that, see that he meant no harm and then leave. Walking in, I could already hear Lisa crying, and knew that my short plans weren't going to eventuate. Moving through the hallway I heard moving in her bedroom, sheets ruffling, and a scarred girl crying and sobbing. Arriving at her bedroom door I saw him trying to take her shirt off, struggling against her tipsy flailing. He didn't seem sober, but obviously not drunk enough to lose motor function. As I was Blocking the light from the other rooms, he turned to look at me, Lisa quickly scrambling into the corner of her bed away from him, raising her knees up, wide eyed as she watched us. He moved towards me, a grin on his face. He probably thought I was just another man, thinking himself the noble hero here to claim the girl by proving his worth. He had too much confidence in the way he approached, walking with his shoulders square and his arms rose up like a fighter in the ring. I knew this dance wasn't going to end well, especially if he knew something about dancing. "Stan, Don't!" Her sob of desperation was kind, but I didn't think about it at the time, as his smile seemed to grow as she said it. Moving quickly, taking two steps instead of one, he lunged with his left fist, hitting me in the cheek unexpectedly. As he made contact, I hit him in the gut, making him double over coughing. Tasting the blood of a cut lip against my teeth, I kicked him again in the gut, forcing him to his hands and knees, groaning in pain. Through clenched teeth I bent down and grabbed his hair, bringing his head up so he could see my eyes, before I punched him across his cheek, forcing him to collapse to the ground unconscious. Slowly standing, mentally shaking off any adrenaline in my system, I put a hand to my cheek. "Why did you do that?" Lisa had stopped crying by now, but still sat in a ball in the corner, huddled together on her bed. "He deserved it." And I meant it, he was a fine piece of work and I don't know why she could grow so attached to him in the first place. "No, I meant. Why did you come back?" I paused, she'd caught me off guard, "I wasn't gonna leave him here with you." I bent down and draped Stan's unconscious body over my shoulder and walked out. She'd had enough trouble for one day, and it was only 1:30 in the morning. I'm Not Like That! Ch. 02 This is a continuation of an earlier story, "I'm not like that!" I don't know if it would stand alone but I think you will enjoy it more if you read them in order. As usual, intended only for people old enough to read it. If that's not you, or if you're offended by women having sex, go outside and play. Also as usual, thanks to jacuzzigal, without whose editing I would use way too many commas. ;-) Feedback is appreciated. ***** I slipped my shoes on and nodded in response to her questioning look, telling her silently that I was ready to go with her. "Pick up your underwear and come with me, Pet." I opened the flap on the small bag I was carrying, but she stopped me with a glance. "Pick them up. Don't put them away. Carry them loosely, so they show." She led me to the door of the restaurant, my panties dangling from my fingers as we went. She sent the valet for her car, and while he was gone, told me, "I want you to hand him your underwear when he holds the car door for you. Let him see your pussy as you get in." That might have happened whether I tried or not. The dress was short, the heels were high, and my panties were off. At any rate, it would be the easiest thing in the world to show the valet my pussy, and I was surprised at how much that turned me on. Not so much that I would show him, but that I would do it because she had told me to. I was feeling an odd mixture of absolute mortification because I would do it at all and anticipation because I would do it for her. There was no doubt that I would do it though. A young man, probably not older than twenty and wearing an ill-fitting uniform, complete with a badly tied necktie, brought the car around and hopped out, leaving the driver's door open and hurrying around to my side to get the door for me. I handed him my underwear, and as he recovered from that shock, I lowered myself to my seat and moved one leg inside the car, leaving the other outside and spread wide. I brushed the hem of my dress as I sat, making sure it rode high up on my thighs. There was no doubt that he was getting the whole show. Until now, this could have been an accident; just his lucky day. Then she froze me in that position with, "Wait," and headed around the car. It took her several seconds to get around to her side of the car and get in. While she did, I sat there on display, and the valet stared with a slack-jawed look. Now several more seconds ticked away while she opened her handbag and fished out a ten dollar bill, which she handed me, with the instruction to pass it on to the valet. "Thank you," I muttered, though I certainly didn't know the proper etiquette here. "Oh, thank you, ma'am," he replied, and I noticed as he came forward to take the tip that his trousers were developing a noticeable bulge. "Let's go, Pet." I finally swung my other leg into the car and the valet closed the door, not letting his glance leave my legs until the view was finally cut off. He would still be telling this story when he was old and gray. She put the car into gear and eased out into the street. A minute or so went by in silence before I was able to collect my thoughts a bit. When I had, a small laugh escaped me. I'm not sure which of us was more surprised "Something funny, Pet?" "Well...yes. Yes, Mistress, " I hurriedly added. She looked at me and smiled her approval that I had remembered. "I've spent my whole life trying to get in and out of cars in a skirt gracefully. And then when I try not to, it feels so weird that I'm clumsy at it." She smiled softly at this and took my hand as she said, "Pet, if I couldn't see that grace in you, you wouldn't be here." Maybe it was because the evening had been such an emotional roller coaster, but that touched me and my eyes misted up a little. I couldn't think of anything to say in reply to that, so I said nothing and we rode along in silence a while longer. Eventually, I thought to notice the car. It was a huge Mercedes, easily the most luxurious car I had ever been in. And that reminded me of something. "Mistress, what about my car?" "We'll see. You won't be needing it any more." That had a certain ring of finality to it, but that was a lot less jarring than it would have been a few hours ago. She seemed content to ride along in silence, and that left me to my thoughts. And I had thoughts chasing around in my head, that was for sure. Foremost was the whole question of what I was doing here. I had never even been with a woman before, much less in a Domme/sub situation. Well, technically, I still hadn't been with a woman. Except for a brief kiss and touching a bit, we hadn't had any physical contact. God, was I turned on, though! It dawned on me that I didn't have a clue what to expect physically. Maybe there wouldn't be sex at all in the way I thought of sex. I found myself hoping that wasn't the case, even though until tonight I thought I had no interest in women. "Mistress, may I ask questions?" "For now. What's on your mind, Pet?" "Well, for openers, where are we going?" "I told you, home. My home. It's not much further." "Okay, then, about that valet back there...do you expect me to...well, do stuff...with other people?" "Well, I'll tell you this: If I tell you to do something that stretches you, there's a reason. There's something you need to learn, some barrier you need to get past, something like that." "And what was I supposed to learn from that?" "That your cunt belongs to me, and I can do anything I like with it." I let that sink in for a moment. I had always hated that word; cunt. It seemed so crude and raw. But it felt right for this. "You talk like you expect that I'll be with you." "I want you to be, Pet. But, up to a point, you'll be able to back out. Now, no more questions. We're home." She turned into a long driveway, curving broadly up to the front of a house. "Holy shit! Oh, sorry, Mistress. But, this is your home?" What a home it was. It was a mansion, an honest-to-God mansion. It was old, not one of these new McMansions you see in the suburbs. And huge. I couldn't guess how many rooms might be in there. The exterior was stone, with a slate roof, and some of the windows were stained glass, or leaded. "Yes, Pet. Some big industrial baron built it early in the early 1900's." My intuition said that I should follow slightly behind her as we went up the front walk, and that seemed to please her. But when we got there, rather than fishing out keys she pushed the doorbell. That meant that there was someone else inside -- which had never dawned on me as a possibility -- and added a new dimension to the nervousness I was already feeling. In just moments the door swung open, revealing a surprising sight. She was petite, probably four or five inches shorter than me, with long brown hair that I would have killed for. She was wearing a short white slip sort of dress with spaghetti straps that came down only to about mid-thigh, and a pair of white pumps. Her body was just about my idea of perfect. She was trim and firm without being at all skinny – a dancer's body maybe. Smallish breasts, but breasts that looked like they would be so firm it wouldn't make any difference whether she was wearing a bra or not. And at the moment it was definitely not. I would put her age at a few years less than my own. Around her neck was a thin gold choker, with a small ring attached in front. Laura held out her arm, and the girl slid into her embrace for a quick kiss. My stomach was doing flip-flops. I didn't know what to expect when we got here, but it was definitely not sharing Laura with another girl. "Baby," Laura said, addressing the petite girl beside her, "This is Beth. She's going to be a sister for you. And Beth, this is Lynn." Lynn practically bubbled over as she welcomed me and gave me a quick kiss. It wasn't on the cheek. If there was an ounce of jealousy anywhere in her greeting I certainly couldn't detect it. "Come," Laura said, but whether it was directed at Lynn, me, or both of us I couldn't say. It didn't matter, really, because she had already started crossing the foyer with Lynn right behind her. I quickly fell in. We entered a big warmly furnished room, a study, I guess you would call it, with some kind of fancy dark wood on the walls, big stuffed furniture and a fire burning in a huge fireplace. There was a big desk and a few chairs on one side of the room, but we headed for another cluster of chairs near the fireplace. Laura crossed immediately to a chair that somehow gave the impression of being the focus of the area. I noticed that there was a big velvet pillow beside one front leg of the chair, and as soon as Laura sat, Lynn settled demurely on the pillow with her legs tucked under her, smiling up at...what? Her mistress? Our mistress? Laura returned the smile, with quite a loving look, I thought, and lowered her hand to Lynn's head, where she toyed absent-mindedly with her hair. "Sit, Pet," Laura directed, gesturing toward another chair. I perched on the edge of a chair. "Baby," she continued, addressing Lynn. Was there some system to what she called us, I wondered? "Go start my bath, then come back with your ball gag." "Of course, Mistress," Lynn responded, and slipped away into a different part of the house, heels tapping a fading cadence as she went. "Do you like it?" Laura asked, indicating the room with a gesture. "I don't exactly know what to think. The house is gorgeous, really, but my head's kind of swimming. I didn't expect to find someone else here." "Isn't she adorable? You're going to get along well. Really well, I think." "But I've never...I mean, I'm not really even sure what I'm doing here with you, let alone someone else." "Oh, I think you know what you're doing here, even if you can't admit it to yourself yet." I was trying to formulate a response when I began to hear the heel cadence returning, and I was saved by Lynn's return. There was a ball thing with a couple of straps dangling from her hand. "You're bath's running, Mistress." "Good girl," Laura responded, stirring a surprising twinge of jealousy in me. That was what she had called me not long ago. "Now help your sister put the gag in." Help your sister? That meant me, didn't it? A gag? I don't know what I expected, but this sure wasn't it. And yet, I sat still. Lynn came up behind me, and with the gentlest, kindest of touches, slipped the gag between my lips until my mouth was opened wide to receive it, then buckled the strap around the back of my head. Then she leaned over and put a soft kiss on my cheek. I didn't know what to make of that. I hadn't reconciled myself to being with one woman yet, let alone another one that I hadn't even chosen. But I realized that whatever was going to happen, I was glad that Lynn was so gentle about it...loving, almost. "Here." Laura gestured for Lynn to come stand in front of her. Then she turned Lynn until she was standing in profile. One hand raised the back of Lynn's dress to her waist, and the other very suddenly drew back and landed a ferociously hard slap to Lynn's ass. The sound was like a shot, especially after the quiet of the room, and I jumped a bit. Neither of them seemed at all surprised, though. Laura kept the skirt up, and with a fingertip, slowly traced the red outline of her hand as it appeared on Lynn's ass. Lynn had a faint smile on her lips, and neither of them had said a word. "I'm going to go take a bath. Baby, get your new sister ready. You know what I like." "Of course, Mistress. I'll try to please you." "You always do, Baby." And just like that, Laura dropped the hem, rose, and left the room for the same part of the house Lynn had just returned from. "Okay, come with me," Lynn said, taking my hand. "I'll show you what she likes." Responding was out of the question with the gag, so I followed mutely. Well, responding verbally was out of the question. I was definitely responding; I could feel the wetness on my thighs. Lynn led me up a broad, showy staircase, and I had to admit to myself as I followed her that the short dress, the heels, and the firm, toned legs combined to create a pretty stirring effect. At the top of the stairs, we crossed a landing and entered a suite. There was a cozy sitting room, and beyond that, a big bedroom with an attached bath. I don't know why, but I was surprised by how feminine everything was. "This is my room," Lynn said. "I don't know where Mistress wants you, but I guess we'll worry about that later." I could only nod. Lynn moved behind me and untied the top of my halter dress. Her touch on the skin at the back of my neck was a jolt, and my arms instinctively crossed, holding the top up. "Relax, sweetie. It's going to be a long night otherwise. Now let me show you what she likes." I would have given anything to blurt out some of the questions that were bouncing around in my head. What's going on? Is something going to happen between Larua and me? When? How do you fit in? Then it dawned on me that Laura had probably known exactly what she was doing when she chose the gag. Of course I would be full of questions. And maybe it was better that I didn't ask them all right now. I took a deep breath and tried to relax. "That's better. Let's get you changed." I slowly lowered my arms, and Lynn lowered the top of my dress, past my tits, to my waist, and kept going until it was pooled around my feet. Her touch was velvet, gentle in a way no man had ever touched me at his gentlest, and my head was filled with her scent, vaguely floral but with a musky undercurrent as well. I hadn't worn a bra, and I had left my panties with the pimply valet, so I was left with nothing but my heels. She took a step back and looked at me frankly. "Mmm. Pretty. Really, really pretty. I see why she wanted you." In a way I was glad she thought so, but it was still by far the strangest situation I had ever been in. "We need to shave you." She was very matter of fact. I always kept myself trimmed neatly, and I thought it looked very nice. I had thought about shaving, in fact, and decided I wouldn't like it. I shook my head no. "Look sweetie, you can get yourself in trouble if you really want, but there's no way I'm taking you back to her without shaving you." I didn't want to get this sweet girl in trouble, but what a bizarre reason to shave. It made me think, though. Obviously there were consequences for displeasing Laura. I guess somewhere in the back of my mind that wasn't unexpected, but this brought it home in a new way. I slowly nodded my approval. "Good, come with me." Lynn led me to her bathroom, where she spread a towel on the toilet seat and told me to sit. I did, while she busied herself gathering a razor, cream, washcloths, things like that. When she had the things she wanted laid out on the rim of the sink, she crouched in front of me. I hadn't bargained for this, and clamped my legs together. "Believe me, after you've done this for a while, you'll be glad to have someone to help. Now open up." I could imagine that having someone else do this would be way easier than doing it myself. Still, I had never had any woman but my ob/gyn even look between my legs, much less look in the way this girl wanted to. But I had come this far...so I slowly opened my legs. In minutes the longer hair was gone, and Lynn was rubbing some cream in to the short stubble left behind. It did feel kind of good, if I didn't let myself think too hard about it. She proceeded to remove the short remaining hair with a razor, and it seemed surreal that I was sitting here with a strange woman concentrating intently on my pussy. As she worked on me, she told me things she thought I should know about Laura and how she did things. "The way I'm dressed right now? When it's just us around the house, this is pretty much it. She likes these little slip dresses. I must have twenty or thirty of them. Mostly white, but some other colors too. And heels. She loves heels. I hardly ever wear anything else. You get used to them, and I can kick them off a lot when she's not around. When we go out, or have company, all bets are off. Whatever fits the mood she's in. Sometimes I kind of get a feel for how the evening's going to go from what she picks for me to wear. That can be fun. "She likes me to take good care of myself. I spend time in the gym every day. That's downstairs. I'll show you later; it will be nice to have someone to work out with." They both seemed to think it was a done deal that I was going to be part of whatever you would call what they had going here. As she shaved, she pushed and pulled me this way and that to get the razor where she wanted it. At one point I realized that she was pretty much pulling my labia around, and the lips were as slippery as they had ever been. I could actually feel the wetness running out. I was embarrassed, since there was no way she didn't notice, but I was somehow okay with it anyway. I had been wet since the restaurant and I was here, I suppose, to see where that led, so here is where it was leading. And I knew that this was all some kind of warm-up for returning to Laura. Still, I was taken by surprise when Lynn brought her fingers to her mouth to taste me. "Mmm. Yummy." Far from offending me, I thought that was incredibly sexy, and it pleased me that she liked it. She wiped me off with a warm towel and grabbed some kind of lotion. "Here," she said, handing me the lotion with a smile. "I'd better let you do this yourself, or I might get carried away and do something I'm not allowed to do." And she winked at me. I gave her a questioning look, at least as well as I could with the gag. "I'm not allowed to have any kind of sex, no masturbation, no nothing, especially no coming, unless she says so. I suppose it will be the same for you." What on earth was stopping her? Laura couldn't possibly know if she masturbated, or came. It had to be that Lynn wanted to obey these rules. I was getting a new glimmer of understanding. "You're lucky, though. I think she's going to play with you tonight. Mmm, or better yet, maybe let me play with you." Eight hours ago there was no possibility that I would consider letting another woman "play" with me. Now, I was so horny I might do a lot of things I wouldn't have done before. Lynn led me back out of the bedroom to her closet. She was right, she had a ton of those slip dresses. "My shoes won't fit you. We'll have to go with yours and try to match them." I had worn sexy black heels with an ankle strap, and Lynn quickly pulled a match out of her closet. "Here," she said, and she helped me pull the dress over my head. She stepped back to look at me again, and this time she giggled. She was smaller than me, so it was a little tight, but not drastically. The part she thought was funny was that part of my butt and pussy showed below the hem. She let the straps out as far as she could and still keep some of my tits covered, and that lowered it enough to cover me, but not if I did much more than breathe. Lynn sat me on the edge of her bed and touched up my makeup and fussed with my hair a bit, then she took me to a full length mirror and stood behind me. "What do you think?" The woman in the mirror was pretty, and had a good body; that was nice. And the black dress and heels looked good on her, if a little outrageous. But the bright red ball gag took most of my attention away from everything else. Was that me? "Look," Lynn said, and she slid her hands to the hem of my dress and raised it until my bald pussy showed. "Pretty, huh?" I suppose it was pretty in a way, but again, it didn't look like me. I'm Not Like That! Ch. 02 "Ready?" Ready? Was I ready? Ready for what? Taking the gag out wouldn't have helped, I don't think Lynn knew what was coming either. Could I do this? No, that wasn't the question. The question was, could I not do this? Might as well ask if I could not breathe. When we got back to the study Laura was already there, back in her chair. She was wearing some sort of long silky gown, in black, slit almost to the waist from both top and bottom. She was sitting patiently, legs crossed, holding something in her lap that I couldn't make out, and the slit in the gown showed her legs beautifully. I had never thought a woman looked sexy in the way I thought she did then. Lynn led me to a spot ten feet or so in front of Laura and stopped just behind me, waiting. "Show me." I didn't know what she meant, but Lynn did, and before I knew what was happening, she had grabbed my hem and raised it to my waist. I wondered if it showed that there was moisture on my thighs. "Lovely, Pet." I loved hearing her say that. I turned and gave Lynn the closest thing to a smile I could manage, considering the gag, and she kissed me on the cheek again. "That looks wonderful, one of you in white and one in black. I'll have to remember that. "Pet, I'm going to let your sister take the gag out now. I don't want you speaking unless spoken to. Can you do that?" I nodded slowly to indicate that I could. Lynn unbuckled the strap and removed the gag, and my hand went to my jaw to work out the stiffness. "Very nice, Baby. You can sit." With that, Lynn went to a settee to my side and crossed her legs. She looked good like that, and I thought that for someone I hadn't counted on meeting tonight, I was starting to think her presence was awfully comforting. Laura sat and looked at me, calmly, like she had all night. Finally, she laid what had been in her hand on the table beside her, and I could see that it was a riding crop. She opened a drawer in the table and took something out; I couldn't tell what it was. Then I heard a click, and the object in her hand was suddenly a long, shiny knife. Oh, God, what had I gotten myself into? She rose, and what I saw actually made me forget the knife, at least for a few seconds. Poking out of the slit up the front of her gown was a big bright red cock. Against the black of her gown it screamed for attention. Was she going to use that on me? Silly question; what else would she be doing with it? She crossed slowly to me and raised the knife until the point rested lightly in the hollow at the base of my throat. Oh God oh God oh God. She can't mean to cut me. I can't let her cut me. Oh God. The knife went lower, the point barely raking down my chest, until it stopped between the tops of my breasts. The steel was cool, but it seemed to burn as it traveled down my chest. Oh God. I couldn't do this. I couldn't. I looked over at Lynn. She was flushed and breathing a little shallowly. She had uncrossed her legs and her hand was caressing her thigh. Something in her eyes told me to trust. Then the knife turned, so that the edge of the blade was outward, away from me. It lowered further, until it went under the top of my dress. It kept going, pulling downward until it bit into the top hem and severed it. It parted the dress as it traveled slowly down my body until the entire front of it hung open. Then Laura used it to push the straps off my shoulders, and the whole thing fell around my feet. She looked at me for a moment, and said, more to herself than to me, "Beautiful." Then to me, "I know that was hard, Pet. I'm proud of you." I was so glad that I had made myself stand still and trust her. "Come." She gestured to a huge ottoman. I perched on the edge of the ottoman, and she turned to Lynn. "Come, Baby." While Lynn crossed to us, Laura pushed me back on the ottoman, and I found that it was big enough that I could lay across it if my feet stayed on the floor. Laura directed Lynn to the side of the ottoman where my head lay, and pushed her forward until she had to put her knees on the ottoman, on either side of my head. Then she pushed on Lynn's back, and put her on her hands and knees directly above me. I heard Laura's heels cross the floor toward her chair, and that gave me a moment to think. Lynn's pussy was directly above me, inches from my face. Obviously, Laura was going to have us perform for her. Could I? I just didn't know. I had never seen a pussy other than my own up close like this before, but I had to admit that it was pretty. There was a small hoop just above her clit, piercing the hood, and a delicate chain ran from there up under Lynn's slip. Her pussy glistened with wetness, and the lips were engorged and protruding. The clit was poking out from under its hood. I knew exactly what this all meant, and I really liked thinking that I was the reason Lynn was so turned on. I was pretty sure that I could let her go down on me. Who was I kidding? I wanted her to go down on me. But I didn't know if I could return the favor. It did look good, there, inches from my face. I would love knowing that I had made her come, but could I do it? All my speculation was for nothing. I heard Laura's heels making their way back to us, and the crop came into view, tapping the insides of Lynn's thighs to spread them further, lowering her even closer to my face. Then I saw that huge red cock drawing closer, until it was just behind Lynn - and just above me. She came closer, until it touched the lips directly in front of me, and she slipped it up and down between them, wetting it. Lynn let out a soft moan. I had been sure I knew what Laura was going to ask of us, but I was wrong. She slowly slid the first few inches of her cock inside Lynn. Then out, and back a few times. Gradually each inward thrust became deeper, until she was slowly fucking Lynn inches from my face. Oh my God, this was hot! I heard a soft moan that I realized I had made. The pace picked up slightly, but was still slow, and Lynn started pushing back to meet her. Crack! I knew that had been the sound of the crop. "Hold still." Lynn held still, but she couldn't stay quiet. "Please, Mistress." "Please what?" "Please fuck me, Mistress. Yes. Harder. Oh yes." As the pace picked up a bit more, and got harder, Lynn's cries became louder, but less coherent. My universe was reduced to the red cock with Lynn's pussy in front of my face and her cries in my ears. Nobody was touching me, but my other senses were just about overloaded. The sight held me captured. It was fascinating, and beautiful, to watch as Lynn's outer, then inner lips opened and seemed to pull in and swallow that big cock. I'm sure the squishing sound was actually pretty quiet, but it seemed to drown out everything else. The aroma of sex was overwhelming at this range, and I could even feel a bit of the warmth Lynn's pussy was giving off. Then a few drops of her honey leaked out and dropped onto my cheek. And that was all it took. Without even the touch of my own hand, I was the first to come. Hard, and long. "Please, Mistress!" As I came down I realized that Lynn was begging. "Please let me come, Mistress!" I remembered my conversation with Lynn in her bathroom, when she had told me that she wasn't allowed to come without permission. Could she really hold herself back until she got permission? Apparently she could. Suddenly Laura grabbed Lynn by the hips and gave a last hard thrust, and stopped, up to the hilt inside. "Mistress! Please! Don't stop, I need to come!" Crack! The sound of crop against skin came again, and Lynn stilled. "Sorry, baby girl. I need your sister to see this." She slowly pulled out of Lynn, and helped her to her feet. She gently steered Lynn back toward the settee. Lynn was as taut as a violin string, and whimpering. Helping me sit up, Laura said, "You came, didn't you?" "Yes." "You didn't know any better, but from now on those are mine. You don't come unless I say you can." "But how can I --" I stopped when she laid the end of the crop against the outside of my breast. "You'll learn. You have a lot to learn. Now go to your sister." I crossed to the settee and sat beside Lynn. "I want you to see this, Pet." Laura crossed to her chair and sat again, then said, "Baby Girl, come for me." Lynn took two or three breaths -- gasps, almost -- then her head rolled back, her eyes closed, her back arched and her hands clutched at nothing. Incredible! She was coming, without a touch. "That's it, Baby. Keep going." Lynn started to shake, and something between a grunt and a groan escaped, gradually turning into a long wail. "Okay. Good girl," Laura said, and Lynn slowly came back to earth. She slumped against her seat and her breath came in gasps. I don't think she could stand. With that, Laura rose and crossed toward the doorway that seemed to lead to her side of the house, her big red cock waving back and forth ludicrously with each step. "Get some rest, pretties. Tomorrow is Saturday, and we have a big day in store. Pet, you'll stay with your sister." And she was gone. I'm Not Like That! It took a while. The waitress came, and Laura did order cognac. I sipped. I stroked. We talked. It was hard to imagine anything more incongruous, but we talked. Finally I realized it was going to work. I was warm. My nipples were bullets. My breath was getting shallow. I was going to get there. Now it was a matter of timing, and wondering how on earth I was going to keep it to myself. I had done it quietly in restrooms on occasion; surely I could do it here. I would just have to concentrate on not screwing my face up into some weird grimace. Suddenly, I was fine. I don't have any idea why, but I was fine. I relaxed. Maybe the drinks had helped, but it didn't matter. Nobody was paying the slightest attention to what I might be doing under the table. I had never had even the most passing introduction to dominance and submission, and here I was, about to come for a near-stranger in a very classy restaurant. And that was all good. Very, very good. I smiled at her, and wondered if I had smiled at her before now. Maybe not. Not like this, anyway. "It's going to happen. I'm close." "You're such a good girl." She smiled warmly into my eyes. "That's it, come for me." I closed my eyes, poised at the edge, and started to surrender to it. Then I felt her hand on my arm. "No, Pet. Look at me." I opened my eyes, and found her only a foot away, looking calmly into my eyes again. She whispered, "Come," and it started. I went rigid, the hand that wasn't at my clit gripping the table so hard it must have left marks. A tiny grunt escaped, but that was all. Looking into her eyes the whole time somehow made this more intimate than anything I'd ever done before, with anyone. And she wasn't even touching me. Locking eyes seemed to suspend time as well. It lasted and lasted, longer than it ever had before, and try as I might I twitched slightly a couple of times. When I finally let it go, she positively beamed at me, while I tried to catch my breath. "You're a fast learner, Pet. I'll have you trained in no time. Do you need anything else? A drink, maybe?" I was settling into that delicious post-orgasm glow. "I'm fine. Really fine." I gave her a smile. "Then put your shoes on. Let's go home." This time I didn't even fight it. I knew I was going with her.