"Excuse me, but, c-can I sit here?"

Dan looks up from his laptop, expecting to see a coworker. If she was, he had yet to meet her. He would have remembered.

In the time it takes him to try to figure out how he knows her, she begins again. "I can try to be flirty by saying that its really busy in here and there are no tables, but I'm not very good at it, and you're probably taken, so in the interest of not sitting alone, can I sit here?"

He knows he should say something, offer her a chair, but her nervousness is so enchanting. The scarf on her neck practically begs him to reach out and pull it tight around her neck, forcing her mouth a breath away from his.

"Nevermind," she shakes her head slightly, sending her long, golden hair over one shoulder. "This was silly, I'm just new in town and I don't know anyone yet and I didn't want to have to sit all alone like a loser, but you're right, we don't know each other..."

He can tell that she's trying to stop. He finds it amusing that his silence flusters her so much.

"It was lovely to have met you. I apologize for interrupting you." With an embarrassed smile, she turns and begins to walk away.


His softly spoken command rattles her and she stops, but doesn't turn.

"You may sit." It's a risk. He's only ever spoken this way to women who have already been vetted, but something about her calls to him. He's intrigued.

Slowly she turns and comes back to the chair he indicates.

Once she is seated, he speaks.

"What is your name?"

"Does it matter?" It isn't spoken rudely, but she certainly isn't nervous anymore.

A small smile crosses his face. It is gone in only a moment, but he is no longer wondering why she chose him of all those in this coffee shop.

"No, I suppose not. What shall I call you then?"

"Who do you want me to be?" Soft, playful. He likes it.

"I suppose that depends on how much you cost."

He's shocked when her playful smile stops. Her eyes cut to his for the first time and he realizes he's misjudged the situation for the first time he can remember.

"I'm not for sale. Or rent. Or trade." She chuckles bitterly. "I just miss my Master. And you look like him. Like you own the place. I thought that we could talk."

"Normally when women like you miss their Masters, they find a new one. Join a site." Her anger makes him defensive and he knows he's being cruel. He can't help it. He wasn't prepared for this in a coffee shop.

"Duly noted," She responds coldly as she grabs her coffee and stands. He doesn't want her to go.

"Sit," She turns and her eyes flash. Before she can open her mouth, he continues. "Please."

Her jaw clenches, but she sits. He wonders how lonely she must be to stay.

"I didn't mean to offend, but you must know how it looked."

"So you ask me to stay so you can insult me?"

"You asked me who I wanted you to be." He replies flatly. Her pretty face flushes.

"Fair," she bites her lip and sighs. "I did say I wasn't very good at flirting, didn't I?" She smiles softly.

"You did. Shall we try again, then?"

"Why? Do you really care what my name is?"

"Until now, no. But now I'm curious. Tell me."


"Now tell me the truth."

"Give me a reason?" Her clumsy attempts at flirting are...endearing. He likes her playfulness.

"You're sitting at my table." The little grin is back. Just for a moment.

"You asked. Shouldn't you tell me your name first? Show of good faith?" She's grinning at him now. She's better at flirting than she knows when she's not nervous.

He takes a sip of his coffee and replies, "Dan. Now you." He knows he has given ground, but he likes the idea of gaining it back.

"Renee," she starts to raise her cup and stops. "At work." She takes a deep breath and continues. "Outside I'm Mina. It's an old nickname. More me." She takes a drink and sets down her coffee. His ball.

He likes her. He likes her nerves. Her flirting. Her honesty.

"Mina, huh? Fits." He closes his laptop and reaches his hand across the table. "It's nice to meet you."

As their hands touch, he looks straight into her eyes. Her grip is firm, but her eyes are soft, vulnerable.

She releases his hand after only a moment and looks away, raising her cup once more to her lips.

"Nice to meet you, too." Her smile is only a flash, not the open, teasing grin of before. He wonders what she's thinking. He bets he knows. He bets it's a lot closer to what he's thinking than she probably thinks.

"How long since he left?" It's personal, but he knows nothing of her and he doesn't want this conversation to end.

Her brow furrows, "What makes you think HE left?"

"Those who leave don't often miss those they've left."

She looks away and takes another drink of her coffee. "Not when reason for leaving is work. In another state."


"Yeah," she replies, shrugging lightly.

"Did you love him?" Again, far too personal, but she doesn't berate him.

"Only as much as every submissive loves their Master. I never even knew him outside of that."

He nods. He's familiar with the feeling, but from the other end.

"How long since you left?"

"Two months," her answer is so quiet, soft, but he can still hear the longing in it.

"That can be a long time. Do you miss it?" He knows the answer, but he wants to hear her say it.

She reaches for her cup. Stops. Looks down at it, her thumb flicks the lid.

"Yes." Her eyes raise to his, her head still bent. He wonders how much of her behavior is training and how much is innate.

He swallows and adjusts his seating.

"What do you miss most?" He allows his voice and demeanor to change, become more Dominant. He watches how she reacts. The way she relaxes into her chair, her tension and nerves flowing away as they had when first he ordered her to sit.

Looking straight into his eyes, she replies, "The surety. The knowing that my service made Him happy. That I was valued."

Her answer is more personal than he expected. He wonders who had chosen to keep their relationship strictly Master/slave, her or Him. He wonders how many Hims there had been before this moment in a coffee shop. She looks young, maybe college aged, but the way she speaks...he wonders how old she is.

"How long did you spend with Him?"

"Six months."

He takes a drink of his coffee and grimaces. He hadn't realized they'd been speaking so long, but its cold.

"Would you like another?" She seems eager to change the subject. He reaches for his wallet.

"No, please, let me? You are, after all, sharing your table with a perfect stranger," she grins and twists her scarf with her fingers. The nervous movement reminds him of his first thought.

He reaches out and pulls her scarf softly, tightening it slowly. Her eyes finally meet his and the look there... pure lust.

He releases the scarf. "Two sugars. One cream."

"Yes, Sir." Her tone is new. Husky and thick. He wants to hear her begging in that tone while tied to his bed.

She walks off and his eyes follow her. He feels drawn to her. The way her hips sway makes him want to dig his fingers into her soft flesh until he leaves bruises in the shape of them. He wants to see her wearing his marks.

When she comes back, she places his new cup on the table and steps back. She's standing with her hands clasped in front of her and he knows what se's waiting for.

He takes a sip. "Perfect," he tells the waiting girl.

She beams at him, so proud. "I put some cinnamon and chocolate in it, I hoped you'd like it."

"I do. Now sit."

"Actually..." here she twists a section of that silky looking spun-gold hair around her finger and bites her lower lip a little. In another girl of her shape and size, it would be a lusty look. On her its simply beautiful. A little nervous but gorgeous. "I was hoping that you'd like to take me home. Maybe we could talk more about more... interesting things than we can at a coffe shop?"

He feels his own eyes fill with lust. Before he relizes he's speaking, he hears himself saying, "What? Like the fact that you're a very dirty little girl and you need your little ass spanked for talking to strangers?"

Her eyes brighten and she responds with glee, but he can't help but feel he's disappointed her somehow. She responds in an almost dejected little girl's voice, "Yes, Daddy. And about how my panties were really wet when I did it, too."

He doesn't know why he spoke to her that way. Normally he's a Master, wih no interest in women who want to play at being Daddy's little princess, but the way she acts is too perfect for him to pass it up. He really feels protective of her. She's all alone in a new state and he feels the need to protect her from men like him. Well, all except him, of course.

"Yes, we will definitely talk about that, too."

She giggles and grabs his hand, pulling him up and out of the shop. She turns to him over her shoulder and asks, "Can we go to my hotel? Its really close."

"This time, yes. You obviously need to be punished very badly, but next time we go to my place. Hopefully then I can reward you for taking your punishment like a big girl."

"Mmmm! Yes, Daddy!" Her excitement is infectious and he feels himself falling more and more under her spell during the short walk. He stops her just before the doors of a run down, pay-by-the-week hotel and pulls her into his arms for a kiss. It feels just as good as he thought it would to wrap his fingers in her hair. Her little moans and mewls make him sincerely hope her room is close, and on the first floor.

As she begins to climb the rickety steps inside, he realizes his luck has definitely run out on that count.

By the time they get upstairs, he's feeling a little strange. He shakes his head and keeps walking toward her door, but he falls just inside the doorway.

The last thing he hears before his mind goes black is, "I'm so sorry I tricked you, Daddy. I just know its you this time."

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