28 Mar

a luncheon with Mistress

Let me take you back to the halcyon days of late summer of 2013.

Do you remember it?  Here in the London area we had had a pretty poor start to August, with lots of rain, although it wasn’t especially cold, it was wet.  Then, mid-way through the month the weather changed and we had some gloriously sunny weather blown in from the continent.  As is usual for the UK, this brought about a frenzy of short skirts, summer dresses and topless gents.

It was during this time that we were fortunate enough to persuade family to take our child on their holiday, and we had some quality 24/7 D/s time, which suited me to a tee.  I am not a fan of hot weather, and during D/s play, we tend to black out the windows with some gro-anywhere blinds we purchased, which keeps our house nice and cool.

Following several intense days of servitude, submission and general dogsbodyship, I had reached a nirvana of subspace, the like of which I had never experienced before, and was virtually floating along oblivious to the rest of the world.

It was at this point that Mistress decided she wanted to take me out for a civilised lunchtime drink at a local wine bar, she prescribed exactly which bar it would be.  She gave me leave of my duties at 10am and instructed that she would meet me at the bar at 1pm, and I must arrive in sufficient time to ensure that we had a table overlooking the river which ran past this particular venue.

The first thing I did was phone a local taxi firm to arrange a taxi to take Mistress to the bar, and then I got myself ready. A quick shower, shave and spruce up, dressed in some smart three-quarter length trousers which show off my muscular calves, a short-sleeved smart t-shirt and a pair of K-Swiss trainers; a look a know Mistress is appreciative of.  I then hopped in the car and drove the short distance to the bar by the river.

When I got to the bar, it was approaching half eleven, and to my surprise, the car park was already bustling.  I knew this bar was extremely popular, especially on sunny days, with its unique river location, but this level of business had caught me out.  I headed straight inside, and to the river-side of the bar, to my immense relief there were loads of empty tables, including several outside, by the railings overlooking the river.  I ordered a glass of ice water and headed to an outside table in the corner, which was currently in shade, but I guessed would be getting the sun in the next hour, and so began my wait.

The bar was playing muzak which is typical of its type of establishment, and that, in sitting outside in the sunshine wasn’t quite what I needed.  I had with me my phone, which I am usually surgically attached to, but which very much takes a back seat when we doing D/s.  I plugged in my earphones, fired up the spotify app and found some electro/acid jazz to listen to, a genre I find is at its best on sunny days.   I spent the next hour people watching, and there were plenty of people to watch; this is why the car park was so full, there were many many couples and families taking a lunchtime stroll by the river.

The bar soon filled up, with some people having a drink, some lunch, me I just sat observing, waiting, sipping at my second glass of cold water.

 

Eventually 1pm arrived, Mistress did not. This is something I was partly expecting, but was still disappointed by.  Another 10 minutes passed before she would grace me with her presence.

 

At 10 past 1, as I was listening to All I Need by Air, Mistress entered the bar.  Her presence was palpable, perhaps because I was waiting for her, and perhaps because of the confidence she oozes when she is Mistress.  It felt as if the whole bar went quiet for her entrance.  She strode purposefully through the bar towards me.  She was dressed casually, like myself; she had light coloured linen trousers, with a black strappy top on, with open toe wedges, her golden hair loose, swaying gently with her step.   She wore a small shoulder bag, with the strap diagonally across her chest accentuating the curves beneath.  Her stride took her to the table I was sat at, and this is when I became aware that I was agog.  I wouldn’t have been surprised if my eyes had popped out, cartoon style, as my tongue rolled on the floor.  She stopped almost abruptly at my table, and stood there looking at me, it was only a second, although it seemed like minutes until I recognised the expectant look on her face.  I stumbled to my feet, drew a chair back for her and assisted her in being seated, I then took the wine menu and a drinks list and proffered it to her.  “Thank you for coming” I said, and waited, hands clasped together, beside her.

“Sit down” she said to me, so I returned to my seat, moving the earplugs which I’d thrown to the side, I sat down.  She reached into her bag, “I have something for you”, I watched silently.  She withdrew her clenched hand from her handbag, and moved it towards me, I reciprocated, and placed my open palm on the table.  Into it she slowly lowered a set of nipple clamps.

nip clamps

“Put them on”.

So, with as much discretion as I could muster, I discreetly put my hand up my t-shirt and applied the clamps to my nipples.  The uncertainty I was feeling must have been obvious.  “I’m going to enjoy watching you squirm” she said.  “Now go and get me a large glass of Rosé”.

I walked over to the bar, well at least I think I did, the discomfort from the clamps was immense, I may have hopped stepped and jumped to the bar for all that I was aware.  All I know is I went to the bar, and returned with a glass of Pinot Blush.

I realised I quickly needed to find that happy place I had before she sent me out of the house earlier.  It couldn’t be far away, I’d been here chilling to music for most of the past 2 hours, and had been extremely relaxed.  In letting me go without here, Mistress had cruelly made me pop out of my nirvana before I was really ready to.  I leaned forward and whispered “I’m in a lot of pain, I need to find my space again”.

“Fine” she replied.  “I’m going to the toilet, I will be two minutes”.

 

I hurriedly put the earphones on my ear as she walked away, and scrolled through my favourite tracks to find the song that most helps me find my special place.   Brick by Ben Folds Five.  I closed my eyes and concentrated on the piano and the sounds of Ben Folds’ voice.  At first it was difficult to ignore the throbbing emanating from my nipples, but as the 2 minutes passed by, the throbbing turned into an ache and then the ache dulled into a lesser but constant feeling of heat.

 

When I reopened my eyes, Mistress had returned and was sat opposite me, wine glass to her full, luscious lips, which glistened where they were slightly moist from the sip of wine she must have just taken.  I wasn’t sure if I had found my space, but, for now, the clamps were bearable.

I looked into her eyes, and then looked away sharpish, as if I’d returned to the shy 12 year old I had been, caught looking at the pretty girl in the class.  When I’m submitting to her, this is how I feel, it rolls back the years to before I had any real experience with the opposite sex, I feel all fluttery, filled with almost nervous energy.  I am not sure if this shows to the outside world, but Mistress feeds from it, it helps her know the power she has over me, and gives her the confidence to be Her, to be Mistress.  I find it so sexy, and even after the D/s play finishes, we get off on the memory of those feelings for weeks.

 

We spent a while in mutual quiet, observing others going about their early afternoon activity, until Mistress required another drink.  By this time, I was quite comfortable with the clamps, I think through numbness rather than any superhuman effort on my part.  It was only now, when I moved my stupidly crossed arms and caught the clamps that a searing heat rippled through my chest and I let out an audible gasp.  As I sidled past Mistress to go to the bar to get her a drink, she placed her hand on my chest and pushed downwards on the chain. “You should be quiet, if you know what is good for you” she whispered in my ear.

 

With every step I took, I was painfully aware of a tiny jangle made by the chain, and I kept puffing out my t-shirt, trying to make it looser, so as to not let the clamps that lay beneath show through the fabric.  Found myself wishing I had put on a patterned shirt instead, as the patterns would have hidden the protrusion better.  “it’s OK I told myself, people will just think you have nipple erection after coming into the air circulated by the fans inside the bar.  But still I found myself hunching my shoulders forward, trying to make more baggy material, but probably looking even more conspicuous.

 

When I returned to the table, Mistress had moved her chair round closer to where mine was.  I gave her a drink, and squeezed in beside her, again catching the clamps.   “urg” through gritted teeth.

What followed was an hour of the most outrageous flirting, with Mistress making endless opportunities to touch or rub my chest, pulling the chain, touch the clamps, and generally making me on the edge of my seat the whole time.  At first she was quite discreet, just rubbing my chest, but my glowering stares every time she did just gave her more impetus to do so again, and at times she was full-on pulling me towards her by the chain.  Her timing was perfect, just as the pain from the previous time was dying away and returning to the dull sensation, she would again tweak my nipples.

 

I could tell she was enjoying it, as her eyes were alight with joy, a huge smile across her face and frivolity in her voice.  This was brought home to me, when she returned from a toilet visit after an hour and gave me her panties; they were sopping wet.  “Take me to the car before my juices show through my trousers” she said.

I did.

I took her out to the car park, and to our car.  As I had become accustomed to, I went to the passenger door and opened it for her.   “No, I’m going in the back.” she said.  I quickly opened the back door, and she climbed in, I waited to be invited in to.  She looked at me. I looked back. Nothing was said.

“Drive” the silence was broken.

I got into the driver’s seat and started to drive.  She gave me directions, which I followed, every turn of the wheel nudging the clamps, every gear changing causing the seatbelt to rub the chain.  Such pain, so intense!.  I was glad when she directed me to a secluded spot on the edge of town, only about 5 minutes away from the bar.  I pulled the car up on a grass verge.  “Stay there” she said, as she clambered out of the back seat.  She opened the driver’s door, and i suddenly realised she had the bondage tape, which she must have had in her handbag.  “Put your hands on the wheel” she instructed.

I did; she taped my arms to the wheel, and then got back into the rear seat of the car.  She leaned forward and repositioned the rear-view mirror so I could see her, instead of out the back window.  She lay across the backseat, undid the button and fly on her trousers, and wiggled them down over her hips.  She reached into her handbag, and I heard the familiar sound of the tango

2 thoughts on “a luncheon with Mistress

  1. That was an excellent experience, I has got me quite turned on by it all.
    I bet you had a fantastic time

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Clef two-factor authentication