Читать книгу The Chair - Hansa Bosbach - Страница 2

The door clicked shut, "good girl, now we begin" I said.

I had given Isa specific instructions via text before she arrived. She was to wear a skirt, short and tight... with a zipper in the back. Nude stockings... no underwear. A black leather corset that pushed up her tits and cinched her waist in a pleasing way... a long coat to wear on the way here and Black stiletto heels. Nothing else was allowed. She was to enter by the front door, hang her coat on the hook and enter the first room on the right. There would be one chair in the room facing the wall. She was to sit, spread her legs as far as the skirt would allow and wait. She was told that following these instructions meant giving consent to let me use her as I saw fit. Her safe word would be red.

My dear Isa had followed her instructions to the letter. I heard her enter from where I sat in the back room. I heard her heels click across the floor and the soft rustle of fabric as she hung her coat. Raising the glass of amber liqueur to my lips, I leaned back in my chair imagining her seeing herself in the full length mirror in the hall. Did she adjust her skirt? Did she think she looked like a slut? Or wonder what her pale skin would look like when next she looked in the mirror?

The liquor burned warm down my throat. I chided myself for drinking… It wasn't like me. Usually, I would not want anything that may alter my focus when I play. But this was Isa… and damm it… I was nervous. I had seen her in passing a few times as she went for a walk in the evening. I watched her as I sat on my porch with my tea, sighing as the steam curled in the cooling air. She was gorgeous. The tight pants she went for walks in looked like they were but tints and hues of paint spread across her shapely legs. Her chest pushed outward from her top as if straining to be free showing just a hint of cleavage… perfect.

I made it a point to take my tea in the evening outside in hopes of seeing her. For months I had admired her from afar, never daring to talk to her. After all... I was nothing special, and she… she was angelic. Sure... my job kept me in decent shape. I was decently strong and not overweight. But I just knew... somewhere deep inside… she could have any man she wanted. And she could do so much better than me.

I probably would never have talked to her if she hadn't answered my online query about local bdsm events. Of course... at the time I had no idea it was her. She had asked if I was a dominant or a submissive, and if I had experience with the bdsm lifestyle. I answered saying I was most definitely a dominant and that I had more than a bit of experience. But I was having problems finding a good local group. The few I had found were mostly more swinger groups or far too cliquish for my taste. She told me about a group that would meet twice a month to talk and support each other. An interesting cross section of people interested in BDSM all with different skills and specialties. She offered to Introduce me but said she wanted to talk in person before to get a feel for what kind of person I was and suggested we get coffee. This was sensible I thought, good groups don't let just anyone in. And meeting in a public place was a good sign of healthy precaution. So I agreed. I gave a brief description of myself. Glasses… beard with a bit of gray... jeans and black button down with a vest.

A week later I was seated in a coffee shop. It was nothing fancy, just a little neighborhood place with a few small tables and a patio. I had been here a few times before and liked the quiet ambiance when I wanted to sit and think. I had just started sipping on a cup of earl gray from one of those big earthenware mugs when my evening eye candy walked in. Holy shit she was pretty I thought as she ordered a coffee. I watched her curiously wondering if she frequented this place as she bantered with the guy behind the counter. She took her coffee from the barista and glanced around the room. Our eyes met... suddenly she was walking with confident strides directly toward my table, her heels clicking a staccato rhythm that mirrored my rising heart rate. Had she seen me watching from my porch? Did she think I was stalking her? Was I about to get yelled at? Then she was standing in front of me with her hand extended in greeting "Hi, I'm Isa." She said in a voice that caught at my pounding heart like the calming touch of some mystic healer. She… wanted to introduce herself? I was so flustered I fell back into my role of dominant before I could stop myself. I took her hand in mine, lifted it… And brushed my lips in a light kiss across her knuckles. "A pleasure to meet you." My voice was calm and clear even as my brain was screaming "nooooooooo!! She's gonna think you’re sooo cheesy!"

I felt the shiver run through her as a light blush spread across her cheeks. She… liked it? Hmm.. interesting. She slipped into the seat across from me and set her coffee on the table. "That's quite a greeting. When we were talking online you never said you were a handsome charmer." She said leaning back in her chair and smirking. Suddenly it clicked, I was here to meet... her! It had been her that answered! Holy hell! She was into bdsm? Wait… did she just say... I was handsome?

I shrugged, deciding to roll with it and see what happened. "I never have been one to self aggrandize. More of a… this is me, take it or leave it kind of guy." I said as I slowly and obviously looked her over. She wore a deep red turtleneck with a cutout that showed off her cleavage. It was obviously designed to draw the eye... and it was working. "I don't know you well enough for you to be looking at me like I may be your next meal. My eyes are a little higher, sir." I could hear the amusement in her voice. She had called me sir… a sign of respect I had not asked for. And yet... she was asserting her will. She had worn that shirt to go meet a dom knowing I would look. And then chastised me for looking? Was she testing me? Fuck it I thought... go for broke. I held up my hand with one finger raised. "I am well aware, and they are very beautiful. But I am still looking at your tits just like you wanted me to when you chose to wear that. I'll be with you in a moment." My voice was soft but carried an edge that I had practiced for years. It was clear I expected to be obeyed. She said nothing and I saw her shift and straighten in the chair, the movement obviously designed to push her chest forward a bit more. Now she was teasing me. Another test. My eyes snapped up to meet hers "I know what you're doing. You are incredibly attractive and know exactly how to use it to manipulate someone. Whoever you call Dom is a very lucky man. However... You will stop trying to test me. Right... now. Or I walk out of here." My voice held no command or abrasiveness, I was simply stating a fact. I left no room for negotiations, I would absolutely walk away without a second thought.

The words had the desired effect and I could almost see the wheels of thought burning like fiery gears of brass in the depths of her eyes. She was thinking that sitting across from her was a man that would not be controlled. He had seized control of the conversation. He desired her openly and called her out when she tried to use that to take away his control.

Her eyes lowered and she spoke again in that soft voice that made my heart rattle my ribs like a beast howling to be free. "You pass… forgive me for testing you Sir. But I had to know if you were really a dom and what kind of man you were. And…" I saw her hesitate before seeming to come to some internal decision. "I have not found a Dominant I would yet submit to." The last words came out in a rush as if she was almost embarrassed to admit she did not have a dominant. Her fingers toyed nervously with the napkin under her cup. She was unsure... off balance. And now I was in my element.

I leaned forward in my seat and reached out placing a finger under her chin and raising her eyes to meet mine once more. "I guessed it was a test. I am gladdend I was correct and did not offend you. So tell me... what kind of man am I?" I said sitting back in my chair once more and taking a sip of my tea. She looked at me, considering her words carefully and biting her lip as she thought. The impish innocence of that small gesture made me long to defile her in ways I had never before dreamed.

“You are a man who knows who he is. You are forthright and calm even when the object of your desire is within your grasp. I was very surprised to see it was you when I walked in. I have seen you watching me on my walks... and may have dressed a little more provocatively because I enjoyed your attention. When I saw it was you I thought maybe you had found out about my activities in the bdsm world and were angling to take advantage of that. I am sorry, sir. I can tell you would never do such a thing. You do enjoy being in control but I don't think you would ever try to force it on someone unwilling. You are a dominant. Without question. And I would be happy to introduce you to our group. The next gathering is about three weeks away."

I nodded, thinking about what she said. She had taken a risk, testing me like that. She obviously wanted to keep her bdsm activities from becoming public. And had I been the kind of man to take advantage of that, this conversation could have gone very badly. So why risk it? I was genuinely curious to know. "Can I ask you a personal question?" She looked a little nervous now. Almost shy. She again bit her lip and looked at me, she was considering something. I don't know how I knew, but I could almost see the thoughts forming in the expression on her face and how she held herself. Finally, it seemed a decision had been reached. She nodded slowly, a lock of hair falling to rest against her cheek. "Go ahead, I can't promise I will answer, but thank you for asking."

"Why take the risk? When you saw me and recognized me, you thought I may be here to blackmail you or something… why risk it?"

She opened her mouth to speak, then it seemed something stopped her. She closed her mouth and just looked at me, thinking.

"Tell.. me.." the words escaped as almost a growl before I had time to stop myself. I saw a shiver run through her and it seemed like something shifted in her. Now her eyes held not cool collected thought... but hunger. Slowly her hand dipped into her purse and came out holding an envelope. I caught a slight tremor in her voice as she laid it on the table and spoke. "Because I needed to know. And now that I do... I would like you to read this." She stood and without another word walked out of the coffee shop. My eyes were torn between her swaying hips in her very tight jeans and the letter on the table. What had just happened? Had I offended her? The letter was simply addressed "Dear Sir."

I was a bit taken aback. Why would she leave like that and give me a letter? My curiosity was burning as I opened the envelope.

"Dear Sir,

I am writing this not knowing who you are or what you look like. I know one day I will meet you and when I do I will give you this letter. So if you are reading this... Squeeeee! I can't believe I finally met you!

First... This letter is both a heartfelt thank you for making me feel the kind of connection I have always wanted, and a request. I know as I write this should I ever meet you I will not have the courage to say the things I want to say. So here it goes...

You are incredible. I don't know what you will have done to affect me so deeply. But you did. And right now... somewhere out there I am probably vibrating with anticipation and hope thinking of you reading this.

So here it is... I humbly ask... no, I BEG to be allowed to serve you. Please Sir, please... I want to submit to you so badly I can taste it. If you were to put a collar around my neck and call me yours it would probably be the happiest moment of my life.

I know we will have much to talk about if you decide to accept my submission, please think it over carefully. I know I am a lot to handle. But you are strong enough... kind enough... I just know you are. If you agree I will be waiting. At the bottom of this letter is my phone number. Please send me some sign of your answer soon. I don't think I will be able to sleep or eat until I know.

Hopefully yours: Isa."