Beth

"Red," said the business woman and the woman in black stopped. She unbuckled the business woman's restraints and the business woman stumbled away in the direction of the bar. Beth took a step forward. The woman in black smiled at Beth as if she could see right through her, right through to her naivety, her virgin like quality. This was going to be fun for the woman in black. Beth took the sight of the woman in black in. Her latex corset, her super high heeled boots up to her thighs, their sheer height a symbol of her power. The woman paced back and forth, smiling at Beth, gesturing for Beth to step forward towards the bench. Beth did.

"Pull up your skirt." Beth wasn't wearing any panties and now everyone in the small crowd could see this. Beth remembered the single solitary smack James had landed on her rear. She remembered the sense of shock and exhilaration she felt from it. Yes, she could understand the woman in the business suit. The woman in black retrained Beth by her ankles and wrists. The restraints were black and brown. They struck Beth as being old fashioned, though Beth didn't know what old fashioned was in the world of restraints.

She could hear the woman in black pacing back and forth. The way she dragged her heels it was more of a saunter. The woman in black was most certainly going to enjoy herself. Beth could hear her smacking the paddle against her hand. Beth felt the paddle softly against her ass, as if caressing it. She felt the edge of the paddle run down her slit. And then all of a sudden, all at once the paddle was gone, it was off her skin and smack! She had hit Beth so hard on her left butt cheek Beth was forced forward on her elbows. It was thrilling, then painful, then thrilling again. Beth heard the woman pacing some more, those boots clicking on the cement floor.

"Did you like that?" asked the woman.

Beth wasn't sure. "Yes," she said. The woman hit her again, this time on the right butt cheek, pausing again to pace behind her. Beth felt herself becoming turned on, she felt herself become engorged, and she was fully exposed. The whole crowd could see this. The woman hit Beth again. This time three times in a row. Beth could feel her skin getting hot. The woman in the boots started spanking her closer and closer to Beth's insides, closer and closer to Beth's pussy, until she finally did smack Beth's pussy as well. Beth was sopping wet by that point. She knew she'd gotten the paddle wet. Beth knew she was reaching her limits too. What was it the other woman said when she wanted to stop?

"Stop," Beth said.

"Oh yeah. Stop." laughed the woman in the boots. She spanked Beth more, harder until Beth fainted.

~~~~~~~~~~

Beth opened her eyes to some very strangely dressed people leaning over her asking her name.

"My name's Beth."

"Our safe word here is red," one of the people said.

"Red," said Beth. "Now I remember."

"Are you okay? You were out for five minutes."

"No. I mean, yes. I'm fine. Just a little dizzy. Fine." Beth gathered her things and left the club in a hurry. She got into a taxi and went straight to James' apartment on the off chance a hot accountant would be home on a Friday night. And alone. He was.

He answered the door wearing a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and sleek pants. Beth was still in her miniskirt, heels, and full makeup.

"Wow," he said. "I thought you'd call, but you're standing right here."

"We need to talk."

Part Three: Submission

Beth stood there in James' doorway half out of breath from the evenings events, half out of breath in anticipation of his invitation into his apartment.

"You look great. It's past eleven. I don't know if we're going out or you're on your way home," said James coolly with a smile that seemed at once condescending and endearing.

Beth looked James over. He looked like he'd just gotten back from one hell of a long day at the office. The sight of him melted her. She remembered how lovingly he had run his fingers through her hair before pulling it, how carefully he had bound each wrist to the bed, the special attention he paid to body parts other men overlooked or didn't appreciate, how sweetly he brought her juice. She needed to know why he gave her his number. She needed to know what it was exactly that was between them, what had they done, what had they shared? To Beth it was monumental but to James it seemed simple and normal. He had full control over last Saturday's events, he handled her with care, yes, but smoothly, like he'd done it a million times before. Was she just another notch, a notch with her mind blown? Remembering how wonderful James had been mixed with her need for knowledge. It overpowered her shame in the evening's events, her shame of not even remembering the safe word, her shame in going behind James' back to seek more knowledge about BDSM.

"I just got back from Club Controversio," blurted Beth. There. She'd given herself away. She'd sought knowledge outside of James and now he knew it. He looked carefully at her. Her eye makeup showed the track of one solitary tear, sideways across her face. Her lipstick was faded in the centers of her lips and there was a slight smear in the crease where her two lips met. Beth's satin skirt was wrinkled. Her knees trembled slightly and Beth wasn't standing poised and invitingly as she did last time he saw her in those shoes. And after looking her over exactingly James looked right through her the way he looked through almost anyone who stood long enough before him. He looked through her the way he looked through clients who hide money in their books. He looked through her the way he looked through the girl at the coffee shop, whose glance always turned away from him a split second too soon. She'd fallen for his stature, his thick black hair, his good manners, his big tips. James looked through Beth and at once knew what to do. He could tell she hadn't had a good time a Club Controversio.

"Come in!" Beth exhaled. "Have a seat," he said, gesturing towards the couch. The coffee table had a full glass of wine on it. "Do you want something to eat?"

What? "To eat?" Beth replied.

"Yeah, you look like you could use something warm and comforting. I made lamb this evening. Want some?"

Beth was confused. She'd blurted out the most embarrassing thing she could think of to a man she hardly knew, a man who had completely confounded and terrified and cared for her all at the same time and he was offering her lamb? Didn't he care about what she had just told him? Was it all okay? She had so many questions for him and she wanted to talk about them NOW.

"Umm... sure. Why not. I haven't eaten dinner," said Beth, dropping her hands down to her thighs, giving in to this game, this slowed pacing of the evening, this feeding. This courtship. James spun around and made an open arm gesture at Beth and then clasped his hands together.

"Great! I braised it in an apricot curry sauce and have some wild rice and mushrooms cooked in butter. I'm drinking some red wine, would you like a glass?" James was speaking rather quickly. James was excited to see Beth. He too had spent the past week thinking of their encounter, and thinking of Beth. James had thought of the way she looked. He thought of the way in which she presented herself, poised yet shy. He thought of the thickness of her thighs, her long legs, and how strong they looked but how they stopped fighting him so decisively. Had Beth enjoyed her evening with him? He thought about how she looked, restrained on his bed, face covered in a mass of thick, wavy, disheveled hair, lips parted by the gag, hips full and waist tiny as if corseted. He liked the curvature of her spine, the protrusion of her buttocks, the fullness of her thighs, the especially soft skin in between her legs, the duality of her personality, the way she resisted yet succumbed, the way she was afraid physically, yet moist internally. He thought he had shown her he liked all of this. He imagined her in various positions. He daydreamed about her curvaceous figure and how it might look bound by rope, the arcs and bends of her body cut off, forcibly opened. This forcible opening was made all the more exiting by the inner shyness Beth possessed. He wanted to capture it, keep it for his own. It made her seem fresh, pure, perfect. He thought not only of her appearance, but the inner duality of her personality. The way she fought him off, but the deepest insides of her told a different story. They gave way to the most turbulent juices. Yes, James was excited to see Beth, to have her in his apartment, within his reach once again, under his superior and delicate charms.

James brought Beth a plate of lamb, a fork, and a knife. Beth thanked him and they shared a silence over the occasional tapping of the fork or knife on the plate. Beth sat hunched over the coffee table, knees together holding a napkin in her lap, ankles apart to accommodate for the low height of the table. James sat legs crossed, one arm behind Beth's back on the couch, the other resting on his knee, holding the glass of wine. James occasionally sipped from it and watched Beth eat.

"You look like you have a lot of questions," James said, finally.

Beth sighed. "Yeah. I do." Her mouth full of mushrooms.

"Did you enjoy yourself last weekend?" James asked, knowing the answer but needing to hear it.

"You know what. I did," Beth declared. "What happened?"

"I dominated you. And you submitted to me," James said.

Beth knew this. This wasn't the answer to her questions. She couldn't remember her questions anymore. She knew why she was there. Why she hadn't run home after passing out. Why the club was such an awful place for her. Why she felt such comfort eating James' food, sitting in his silence. Why she trusted this man with her life. He had shown her he could be trusted. He had taken her to the most sinister depths of her imagination and shown her that even there he was kind to her, even there she was beautiful, even there she was safe with him, even there she deserved to feel pleasure. Beth wanted more than ever to go back to that place with James, to feel so safe, so beautiful. Beth now laughed at herself, at the men she used to seek out. Plain men. Boring men. Uncreative men. Men who could show her little more than dinners and trinkets. Here she had her dark knight in shining armor. Her mysterious savior. Her ominous prince charming.

"And I'm going to do it again," said James, carefully. "I'm going to take you into the bedroom, leave all your clothes on, because I know you're not wearing any panties, I can smell it, and I'm going to tie you up with some very soft rope. You are going to let me do this. Do you understand?" Beth nodded.

"And if it hurts too much or if you get too scared, what are you going to say to me?"

Beth paused as if she didn't know what he was asking. "Oh um..." Shit. Safe word. Safe word. Um. Can't be 'red.' Um. Hurry up.

"Keynesian Macroeconomics," Beth blurted. They did have accounting in common.

James offered her his hand. Beth accepted. He led her to the bedroom and she walked the way she knew how to walk in those shoes, her knees no longer trembling. Every movement she made was prescribed. She wanted to look pleasing to the eye, to an eye she knew was pleased by her. She wanted to incite excitement in his now careful, controlling voice. He asked her to sit and gestured coolly towards the foot of the bed and disappeared into his closet for just a minute. Beth sat as she was told and thought about how she liked that he could smell her, that he could see right through her. He knew what had happened to her that evening and he was going to fix it.

James returned, as described, with a large amount of rope. In the following moments James instructed Beth to lift an arm, bend her head, pull up her shirt, kneel on the bed as he threw the rope over her shoulders, around her breasts, around her legs, between her legs, around her wrists until finally, Beth was bound. Her hands were tied behind her back, her legs tied in the kneeling position, her breasts protruding from in between layers of rope, and her sex spread open by the rope. There was no hiding anything now. Beth's top was pulled up to reveal her breasts, her miniskirt was pulled up, revealing her lack of panties, and the rope spread her open, revealing how turned on she'd been that evening and how turned on she was at that moment, in that dark place with James.

James admired her. She was more beautiful than he'd fantasized. The flesh of her legs was bulging around the rope, her breasts were swollen, and there was that shyness. Beth knew she was exposed and wanted it, but even at this moment, a moment she'd been thinking about all week, she was still reticent. James wanted to possess that shyness. He caressed the rope around her body, following it from her hands to her breasts, from her legs to her ass, sticking his fingers in her gently, as if feeling fine silk until finally James was overwhelmed by the sight of her. He pushed her onto her back, her legs bent up in the air and he took her, hard. He pounded at her flesh, but with a slow pace making sure Beth didn't cum too soon. He could feel her tighten around him. He could feel her staring at him. He ran his fingers through her hair, massaging it and his hand slid down her neck and over her throat. Their lips met, two empty, gaping, desperate mouths pawed at each other, biting, exhaling. He quickened his pace and felt Beth tighten around him again, then she began to quiver. Beth let out a single breath and her convulsions pushed James over the edge. He came with her.

Now Beth took the sight of James in. His shirt was disheveled, as was his hair. His pants were still on. Beth looked deep into his eyes. Now James' glance turned away a split second too soon. Beth could see right through him. She knew she wasn't just another notch. She knew she held something special for James. Beth realized she was staring at James and for a moment James was weakened by this stare. Just for a moment.