A Kinky Path Ch. 01

Laughing, Anita leaned over to kiss Tristan's cheek fondly.

"Had a great day, you – as always." She winked at him, grinning at the familiar smile that drifted over his features. His sparkling green eyes caught hers, mischievous under the shock of dark hair, and she playfully nudged his shoulder before swinging her legs out of the passenger side and sliding out of the car, shutting the door behind her.

"Whaaaaat?" Leaning over the armrest in the center of the seat, Tristan hit the window button, feigning innocence as he looked up at Anita, returning the wink as she chuckled, backing up her driveway towards her front door.

"Like you don't know!" She grinned wickedly and skipped up to her hour, well aware of Tristan's eyes on her backside. Clad in standard dark-wash jeans, she knew her ass couldn't have looked too spectacular, but the cut of the garment was kind to her curves and she made sure to wiggle them just a bit as she approached her front door.

"Oh babe – that I do." He tossed her one more knowing wink and sped off, leaving Anita to chuckle as she fidgeted with the lock, letting herself into the foyer.

Dumping her purse in its familiar spot, she collapsed onto the couch, still grinning; time with Tristan always made her day. She'd known him since the beginning of high school, which is when he had transferred in from the outskirts of London. His parents had divorced and his father moved stateside while his mother moved to Scotland. His English accent had been softened by his time in the States, but had also been colored by his frequent trips out to his mother's... His voice was so distinctive, and over the years the sound had become so comforting to Anita. They had dated once in high school, very casually, and it sort of fizzled out on its own but didn't destroy their friendship; in fact, they grew even closer.

Going on to attend college in neighboring towns, Anita got a job with a company practically in her backyard after graduation. Tristan had gone on to spend two years in Glasgow with his mother, picking up his MBA, and eventually took a job with a law firm in the metropolis about an hour outside of Anita's city.

Planned visits these days were rather scarce due to their busy schedules and the drive time between the cities, but they talked on the phone every week. He was easily her best friend, but not quite a brother; Anita had always harbored too much attraction to him for their relationship to take on that tone. Instead, their time together was warm and playful with a light charge of sexual tension – every so often, Tristan would drop a hint or cross a subtle line and Anita would have to rebuff his advances. The stasis was comfortable, and they already had one failed relationship in their past – she thought this was one instance where she would rather play it safe.

Mindful of the time on the clock, Anita just sighed, acknowledging the fact that Tristan was better as her best friend anyways. The one thing they never talked about was their sex lives. Not that there was much to discuss: Tristan had dated a woman three years ago for about six months, and had been single since. Anita had not dated – she was waiting for a particular type, and refused to settle. Besides, she doubted Tristan was into the same scene as her, which explained her plans for the evening. Glancing at the clock again, Anita grinned to herself; tonight she was being taken to a new playspace by a Domme friend of hers, Melissa.

Melissa – or "Miss Liss" as Anita sometimes called her – was a good friend she'd met a little over two years ago when she was checking out the BDSM scene by herself. She soon realized that being an unowned sub, it was a little uncomfortable attending play parties and munches. She and Melissa had hit it off so well that Anita began to partner with her for events. Melissa was this gorgeous, tall redhead, built like a muscular Amazon, obviously meant to be a Domme, and if Anita thought for one second that she could be with a woman for the rest of her life she'd wear the Miss Melissa's collar in a heartbeat.

Unfortunately, Miss kept finding all the wrong submissives: some would find that the lifestyle just wasn't for them, some would find that they wanted to be owned by a man instead, and some just weren't up to Melissa's demands. And so she found herself single once more, and had invited Anita to be her arm candy for the evening at a play party following a dinner munch.

Still grinning from the afternoon of good food and good company, Anita took another look at the clock and decided to begin getting ready for the evening. Turning the lights up in her bathroom, she set out her makeup and went to work.

Grabbing a few bobby pins, she carefully pulled back her long, chestnut hair into a low chignon at the base of her neck, effectively corralling the full waves she'd worn her hair in during the day. Letting a few tendrils down to frame her face, Anita brushed on her usual mineral powder foundation, and followed it with a sassy line of liquid eyeliner, mascara, and a swipe of clear gloss. Batting her honey brown eyes at her reflection and glancing over at the outfit she'd picked out, she changed her mind and wiped the gloss off, choosing a true red lipstick instead.

Humming to herself and dotting her collarbone distractedly with her favorite eau de parfum, she padded into the space of her bedroom, noting that time seemed to be moving faster than she'd thought and hurriedly sitting down to wiggle into a pair of seamed stockings. Pausing to admire the way the subtly lengthened her curvy 5'2" frame, she went ahead and slid into patent leather d'orsay pumps and began wriggling into the red and black latex corset that matched, fastening the busk and hooking the attached garters to the tops of her stockings. Knowing Melissa would have to help her with the laces, she paused for a moment to look in the mirror to check if she'd forgotten anything, and to her pleasure she could only find one thing missing.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Deep dimples sunk into Anita's cheeks as she grinned and strode out of the bedroom and down the foyer to answer the door. Melissa stepped in, her own face lighting up in a grin to match Anita's as she took in the girl's ensemble.

"Shiiiiiit, girlfriend."

"You like?" Anita struck a pose, turning halfway around to give Melissa the full effect of the latex garters stretched taut over the round swell of her ass.

"You know I like, slut," Melissa growled playfully. Giving Anita a light swat, she took up the laces of the corset and began to work the slack from them, lacing from the top down, chuckling softly at Anita's soft murmurs as she whittled the garment down to its tightest. Grasping Anita's shoulders, Melissa gently spun the girl to face her, taking in the effect of the corset and giving an approving whistle.

"From now on, tightlacing is a requirement in any sub of mine," she noted. Anita just grinned in response, her smile widening as Melissa reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the familiar collar Anita wore when she was out as her submissive for the evening. It was slender, made of softest black velvet, and where most collars had a D- or O-ring it had a delicate silver star that dangled into the hollow of her throat. It was a collar of protection, which was an unusual collar and not a protocol everyone looked highly on, but it worked very well for Anita and Melissa. The collar allowed Melissa to protect Anita from any unwanted advances, and it allowed Anita to settle into the headspace of a submissive. Feeling the familiar weight of it against her neck always signified the part of their friendship where "Melissa" became "Miss" and she knew she was expected to be open and pleasing, just as any permanently collared submissive might be.

Closing her eyes and kneeling carefully before Miss, a soft hum of pleasure crossed Anita's lips as the woman slipped to collar around her neck and threaded the delicate silver buckle beneath her chignon. Grinning at the gesture as well as the view it afforded her, Melissa let her palm rest against Anita's cheek for a moment.

"Get up, slut." Her voice was firm but kind as she watched the girl stand, her body language taking an entirely different tone than 5 minutes ago. "Put your long coat on so we can walk to and from the club."

Anita nodded, complying quickly, her mind crackling with anticipation at this new place – it was closer to Melissa's home, about 45 minutes away, and it would be Anita's first visit.

Buttoning the grey wool coat over her corset, the girl met Melissa's eyes to signify that she was ready and followed the woman out of the house, pausing only to lock up, an excited grin curled over her lips.