1998 Pt. 03

Saturday had arrived.

I was headed to the East Bay to meet my new Domme in the flesh. Needless to say I hadn't really slept for the previous four nights. It felt as if I were in a constant state of preparation. Work was clearly suffering. I couldn't focus on any one thing for more than 15 minutes. I heard songs on the radio that seemed to speak to my feelings, no matter what I was feeling at the time. Emotionally, I could not have been wound tighter.

Our very late night chat on Friday had no reference to visit the following morning. Since Mistress Dominio didn't mention it or even inquire about my feelings with regard to meeting seemed a bit odd but I left it alone. I needed to start behaving like someone with experience and that experience has told me to be smart but to let go. To allow myself to taste the capabilities of what appeared to be a very capable Domme. So we shared our views and experiences about service in the modern world. About becoming property and how it would feel to be sitting with her extended family come Thanksgiving. A concept I only consider when adrift in some fantasy. She wanted to know my feelings about everything. Or almost everything.

I started to worry if perhaps she going too fast, or is this what happens when she finds someone she wants? Everyone has their own style, but it was often the inexperienced Dommes that had moved to fast. They could be scary.

I told her I was flattered to be included in her family gatherings, but she poo poo'd this and explained that traveling without me would quickly become a chore. Again, a concept I'd not considered. She said this in a way that made me feel like Paris Hilton's little dog. An accessory. I think I liked it. Maybe I was put off balance by having a Domme imply a level of control that touches on some pretty powerful buttons without the usual prompts. Maybe topping from the bottom won't even be a temptation with this one.

It was hot already. I hadn't left my apartment and I felt overdressed, with a trickle of sweat working it's way from my right ear to shirt collar to bra cup. I waved my arms. I do not want pit stains today. I had starting using Degree for women, at Mistress Domino's suggestion. I hoped it would be strong enough for this man. The training bra had been worn enough that it felt comfortable. Not too tight, strange or restrictive. My fleshy chest made a case for a larger cup, but it also felt like a safe default choice for bit of feminine finery. I didn't know what to expect and a sports bra would have looked ridiculous.

My panties were equally unremarkable, but feminine. Just wearing these would ordinarily have me aroused and spinning, but today too much more was about to happen. The hug of my bra, panties and socks were all about gaining entry to something more important...more vital. Possibly life changing. I did another quick inventory of everything on my Mistress's list, as I put each item in my new clear, plastic purse. The barretts were included, small, in yellow, pink and soft blue plastic. She didn't say anthing about wearing them (fortunately), so I tucked them alongside my passport, but on the outside so they were visible through the bag.

Despite the fact that I'm a slave to my submissive appetite, I like to think I have a pretty good head on my shoulders. With hours before meeting Mistress Domino, my imagination had left the station before I did. Ridiculous as it may be, I could feel her watching me. Not just from the moment I started off for the Bart Station, but aslo in my apartment. Not that I thought she had me bugged or anything crazy, but followed all her instructions, including some obviously difficult self-discipline.

I dressed that morning like a matador, purposefully treating everything that went into the little plastic purse as if a precious icon for some ritualized event. She had been clear about how I was to dress for the ride. I was not to hide my purse at any time, carrying it as if it were something I used daily. Did she have someone watching me as I walked on? Was she perhaps lurking around the corner, smiling with satisfaction as my bright pink socks were visible to anyone looking my way. Did she know how completely dedicated I was to following her instructions to the letter? After many years of serving dominant women, it had been my experience that it's not so much about the assigned tasks, as the mind-set around it's completion.

At the station I was to buy my ticket for what was the second to last stop. Once on the platform, I was to take out my compact and lipstick. Then apply the lipstick thoroughly, carefully, and then put everything away and find a bench to wait for the train. Once the train was pulling in, I was to text her I had arrived.

The air conditioning on the train was welcome and sobered me up a bit. I could taste the lipstick and feel the hug of my bra as I sat down in the middle of the train car. I had found a seat facing back, and took it not because I didn't want to face anyone, but I liked the feeling of hurtling under the bay and over the highways toward my destiny without seeing what's coming. Once settled, I went onto my phone and brought up the kink site, looking for her profile. I read and re-read every message and focused on those four glorious, teasing pictures. What were her eyes like? That hair looks so long and soft and dark. Would I ever get to brush it for her? What if she cut it? What if she doesn't look like those pictures? I zoomed in as best I could. Her hands; though not really very visible, seem well-cared for. In one picture you can see that they were sharp and red.

That I might not find her physically desirable, on seeing her for the first time didn't cross my mind. I had long ago by now professed my adoration and so succumbing to some shallow sense of attraction felt absurd. She was smart. Extremely smart. She had made me laugh, which was very important. In only a matter of a few days it was made clear that Mistress Domino knew me better than I knew myself and that is what I had been looking for over and over and over. Over the past ten years, with notable exceptions, the Dommes I'd seen both professionally and non-professionally lacked the appetite for control and dominance that I know I wanted. The problem was, this was about service and so the only honorable way to truly server my owner would be to find someone with the same hunger and satiate her.

A young male Asian man, probably a student, stayed across the aisle, and stared at the bone dry, grassy hills that zipped by. I could see my ghost of a reflection in the glass and reealized this was not the way to see how obvious my lipstick was. I had applied it lightly, though instructed otherwise. I had to give up this feeling like Mistress Domino had some operative reporting in from the field. I went with just enough of a coating that I could pass inspection if one were to occur the minute I stepped on the platform. That could happen. I looked at the guy across the aisle to see if he noticed my socks or purse but he was focused on his phone. With forty minutes to go on the ride, I needed to relax. I took a deep breath and stretched. The bright orange socks practically screamed. I tucked my legs tighter under my seat and smushed my purse deeper under my arm and out of sight.

At Mistress Domino's station I was told to disembark, text her that I had arrived and then head to the men's rest room. I was to go to a stall, sit and go to the bathroom. If I only had to pee, that was fine, but I would be sitting when I had to pee going forward...whether I was in her company or not.

Once I'd gone and cleaned myself well, I was to go to the mirror and refresh my lipstick. I'd not used foundation so the compact wasn't necessary, but a new text that had arrived while traveling informed me that I was to take two of the barretts and put them in my hair. It was to look appropriate and "nice". In other words, don't just clip them on to check the proverbial box.

"When I ask you to look nice for me, you best pay attention to what you're doing. Do you understand, samantha?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Don't you want to look nice for me?"

"Of course, I do."

I straightened my stockings so the delicate white lace that gripped my ankles were visible. I cuffed my dark jeans up higher. I reached inside my collar to adjust my bra strap, taking a deep breath and heading for the pick up spot in the lot. I had instructions on where to sit. She was going to be picking me up like someone returning from their day in the City.

I took a seat on big round concrete bench. There were four of us, strangers sharing this spot with our backs to each other, but I made sure to be facing the lot. I'd know her when I saw her, she told said, 'Sit straight- tits out', was the last instruction on my phone, which had now run down to 18%.

Again, the cool tickle of sweat came when I was feeling most self-conscious. The front of my light blue cotton shirt had begun to develop small wet spots where it touched my belly. Without even thinking, I took the front of my shirt in my fingertips and pulled it away from my body which now seemed to be radiating heat. My shirt now tented out a bit, emphasizing my tiny chest.

I scanned the parking lot and could almost hear her telling me to breath. A few women had me sit upright like a pointer...but no. I could hear and then see that another train had come and gone as I sat there with my clear purse on my lap. She could be watching. I didn't want to even think about checking the time. I sat there and waited and...and then she was there.

From the lot to the left of where I had been facing. It's possible she had been watching me for a while. I was so focused on the action in front of me.

She had on a long black skirt with a modest slit up the side and a crisp white blouse, just like in one of the pictures I'd seen. She had black high heels on. They clicked on the pavement. Dark black high heels at the end of gorgeous porcelain white legs. I cannot believe this is happening. She's here.

She smiled at me. A big, white, toothy smile. Her face warm and welcoming. The profile pics and attitude she used for that kink site were to imply a fierce, experienced personality not looking to waste her time. That attitude had become nectar to me. I knew I could be a pretty damn good submissive for the right Domme, but I needed to be picky too. This woman standing before me with the sun glaring behind her...was a woman who could intimidate me both physically and intellectually. She also happened to be so overwhelmingly beautiful that angering her was the absolute last thing I could imagine doing. I wanted to make her remember this day as the day her life changed for the better.

"Hello samantha," she said. "Please come forward, kneel down and kiss both of my shoes, rise and follow me. Give me space, as you walk behind. You will be sitting in the passenger seat. Go to that door, open it, sit inside and wait for me to put your seatbelt on. "

I put my purse to the side and knelt down. I didn't hesitate.

(more to follow)