My Journey of Discovery Ch. 05

"My name is Robert, and I'll be your server this evening." He handed us each a menu and Ranger, as the sole man of our group, the wine list. Ranger promptly handed it to Mistress. "I'll let you look it over and take your order as soon as you're ready."

Instead of drifting off, he lingered, much of the time glancing in my direction.

"Thank you, Robert. We'll take a little time looking this over, if you don't mind," Mistress said. "We'll signal you when we're ready to order."

"Yes, madame." He dragged his feet as he left.

"I don't think we'll have any problem with our service tonight," Ranger said. "Quite the opposite. We'll probably have an abundance of service. Some of the other guests might suffer."

No sooner had he said this than a bus boy was over pouring ice cold water in my glass. I decided to play with him a little and rubbed the cold glass on the tips of my nipples, making them even harder. I was staring at him as I did so, and noted his lips were parted and his cheeks flushed. He finally noticed me staring at him when he raised his eyes to mine, looked down and went away.

"No problem with service at all," Ranger mumbled.

"Can you blame them?" Mistress said. "Where would you be if you worked here?"

"As near as I could get to this table," Ranger admitted. "Doesn't mean it won't put a cramp on our style while we're here."

"I don't think it will cramp anything at all," Mistress said, "just make it more dangerous. Look at your menus and see what you're thinking of having. We'll make the wine selection based upon what you eat."

I looked at the menu. I hadn't eaten at any place so fancy since Aunt Helen took me out just before I went to college. The selections were eclectic, seeming to reflect many different parts of the world. I decided to get something outside my normal range of food, though pretty much everything was.

"I'd like the Moroccan Lamb Chops," I said. "I've never tried lamb before, but these look delicious."

Ranger said he wanted the Chimichurri Steak and Mistress decided to go for the Pan-seared Sea Bass.

"Now our foods decided," she said. "Let's look at the wine list."

She perused the list. "You two should have a red," Mistress said, "while I'd like a white with mine."

"I can't have more than a glass," Ranger said. "Work starts later tonight."

"Mmm," Mistress replied, "Beth can drink most of it, can't you?"

"I'm not a big drinker, but I'll do my best."

She raised her hand slightly and the waiter was instantly at my side as if he waited for our signal. He probably had.

"What can you tell me about the Cakebread Cellars Chardonnay?" She asked.

"It's an excellent choice, madame. It won a gold medal at a California Wine competition this past January. It's light and smooth, faintly sweet."

"And the Caymus Cabernet Sauvignon?"

"A spectacular cabernet, but if you're interested in a truly magnificent cabernet, one to make your taste buds stand up and take notice, I'd recommend the 2004 Diamond Creek 'Volcanic Hill. It's the finest cabernet we have."

"We'll take a bottle of each, the red and the white," Mistress said.

"Very fine choices, madame. I'll be back with your selections in a couple minutes."

He whisked away, a parting glance at my breasts notwithstanding.

"Beth, your training becomes more difficult as of now. I want you to release Ranger's cock and begin giving him a hand job. I want it obvious to the waiter what you're doing. You must sit close enough to Ranger to do it, and far enough away it's clear you're stroking him. You will continue to fondle him until he cums. Ranger, you will let us know when you are close by tapping your glass with a utensil. When you do, Beth must get on the floor under the table and swallow your cum so you don't ruin your tuxedo. I don't care if the waiter is here or not. She can make whatever excuse she deems sufficient and go under the table. You are not to climax unless her lips are wrapped around your cock. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Mistress," we both said.

"What are you waiting for then? Get busy."

I moved my chair closer to Ranger's and pulled down his zipper. Thankfully, he wore boxers and I could reach through the opening and pull his cock out. I started stroking his cock, which grew rapidly in my hand. I think we were both turned on by the danger of it. I could feel my juices start to flow again and Ranger's cock was stone hard in seconds. I'd been stroking him for about three minutes when the waiter returned with both bottles of wine. He noticed immediately. How could he not? I don't know if any others in the restaurant could see what I was doing, but he knew instantly. Ranger's lap was under the table, but I leaned towards him and my hand disappeared under the table cloth and my arm was moving in a decidedly up and down motion. He watched, astounded for about thirty seconds, before he regained his composure and realized I wasn't going to stop. I was staring at him as he stared at my hand.

He opened the white first and poured a glass, Mistress reaching for it as he was about to hand it to Ranger. He was in danger of losing a tip if he didn't realize quickly who was in charge here, and it wasn't the man at the table. I looked at him innocently, stroking Ranger. Next, he opened the bottle of red and poured it out. He was about to hand it to Ranger, when he paused, thinking, then handed it to Mistress. She smiled up at him. "You're catching on," she said. She sniffed the glass, swirled it and took a sip of the red. "Very nice."

Ranger tapped his glass. I pushed my knife on the floor, saying, "I dropped my knife, excuse me," and disappeared under the table, essentially waving my ass at the other guests. I smothered Ranger's cock in my mouth and felt the first of many jets of his cream shoot to the back of my throat. I heard the waiter say, "Let me get that for you," and his head dropped below the table only to see my lips wrapped around Ranger's cock, accepting his creamy offering. He stared at me, totally flabbergasted. His head started up, then came down again, stared a moment more, then started up, then down, a Jack-in-the-Box, unable to take his eyes off the sight of my mouth wrapped around a cock in his restaurant. I handed him the knife. Ranger's orgasm was ending and I sucked him clean, tucked his cock back in his pants, all with the waiter watching. I got out from under the table. Ranger was smiling beatifically.

"I'll bring you another knife," the waiter said, holding up the one I'd dropped.

"Thank you," I said, wiping a stray drop of cum from my lips and licking it off my fingers. He hurried away. I believe I noticed his pants bulging as well, but they were loose and it was difficult to tell.

"How was it?" Mistress asked.

"Outstanding!" Ranger said.

"I almost climaxed just from sucking him," I responded.

"I believe Beth has a bit of an exhibitionist streak," Mistress mused. "Have you ever had sex in public before?"

"No, Mistress. The Munch orientation was the closest I've ever been to public sex."

"And you climaxed hard then, didn't you?"

"Yes, Mistress," I admitted.

"I shall have to explore this further," she said. She poured us each glasses of the red, saying, "Try some. It is extraordinary," and a glass of the white for herself.

It was several minutes before the waiter returned, much more composed than when he left. He handed me a knife.

"If you warn me before you drop your knife again, I can go under the table and get it for you."

"I'm almost certain I won't lose it again," I said, "but unless you'd be willing to assist my friend avoid messing his pants, I'd better get it myself."

He looked at me for a moment, then smiled. "You may be right. Perhaps you should get it yourself."

"You're very kind to offer, though."

"We pride ourselves on having excellent service."

"I pride myself on the same," I said, "never leave a dissatisfied customer."

"Have you decided on your food choices?" The waiter asked.

"Well," I said. "I'm a little less hungry than a moment ago, but I'm still getting the Moroccan Lamb Chops."

"No appetizer?"

"A bit redundant, don't you think?"

"As you say. Soup or salad?" Smiling.

"Salad and do you have any type of vinaigrette?"

"We have a champagne vinaigrette I highly recommend."

"I'll have that."

"And you, Madame?"

"I'll have the pan-seared sea bass, leave off the artichoke. I'll have the salad, the champagne vinaigrette sounds fine to me, no appetizer."

"Yes, Madame. And you, sir?" He asked Ranger.

"Give me the sesame tuna as an appetizer. I'll have the Chimichurri steak, medium, and since it comes with an Escabeche salad, I'll have the Soup du Jour. Bring me the tuna when you bring out their salads and my soup with the meal."

The waiter hurried away with our orders, the bus boy came back to ensure our water glasses were full, the manager came by to ask about their service.

"Service has been excellent so far," Mistress said. "No complaints thus far."

The manager looked rather pointedly at me, "Not all the guests have thought so."

"It hasn't been our experience," I said.

"I'm not surprised. Ask if you need anything."

"Of course," Mistress replied.

He walked away. I glanced at the wine list. My eyes popped open. Jimminy. $250. Mistress spent my entire monthly food allowance on one bottle of red wine. Even the white she ordered was almost $80. I took another sip. Heaven to the tongue; it really was good. Given the cost, I decided to savor each mouthful.

"Beth," Mistress said, "you're doing quite well under difficult circumstances. You haven't balked at anything which I've asked of you. You've kept your composure, made light of what you've done, joked with the waiter about it. You handled the situation with the driver with similar aplomb. I'm quite impressed. One might think you've done this sort of thing for years."

"Thank you, Mistress. I've decided it would be easier to go with the flow. I've always been fairly fast on my feet and my schooling does help me understand people and how to put them at ease."

"Excellent job, nonetheless. Ranger?"

"I see a beautiful young lady who makes me think about becoming a dominant so I could have her for myself. I find her very special."

"Well said, Ranger," Mistress said. "She almost makes me wish I was gay."

I blushed, unaccustomed to praise. We got our salads and Ranger's soup in about five minutes and we were thoroughly enjoying ourselves, laughing, talking. I asked about Ranger's work schedule and he said it was 72 hours on, 72 off, 72 on, then four days off, then repeat. During his 72 on, he ate and slept at the fire station. We were at the tale end of the dry season, so he was busier than usual, mostly brush fires, but heading into the rainy season when things weren't so busy. I asked him how he liked his job and he was happy about it.

"I've served my country, liked that, now I'm serving my community and I like that as well."

"Serving your Mistress as well," I said.

"And I really like that," he said, licking his lips licentiously.

We all laughed again. Our food came out and I tasted the lamb. Excellent. I liked the Mediterranean flavors.

"Beth, after your chops are cool enough, the next time the waiter looks like he's going to stop at our table, I want you to rub your lamb chops on your cunt, and when he comes out, pull them out from under the table and take a bite."

"Yes, Mistress."

The food was excellent and I was enjoying every morsel. Eventually, the lamb chops cooled enough I would be able to touch it to tender flesh. I saw the waiter approaching again with a dessert menu. I took the chop and started running it through my slit. When he arrived at the table, I rubbed it back and forth a few times so he'd wonder what I was doing, then pulled it out from under the table with a flourish, taking a big bite.

"Special sauce," I said with a smile.

Robert was starting to figure out we were messing with him. "I'll mention to the chef he might be missing out on a secret ingredient." I started laughing.

"Too clever, Robert," Mistress said.

"Would you care to look at the dessert menu, Madame?"

"Certainly," Mistress said. "Everything else has been outstanding."

He handed us the menus. "All of the desserts are made in house, daily."

"Your recommendation?" I asked.

"They're all delicious," he said. "I particularly enjoy the chocolate bourbon pecan pie, but if you don't care for pecan pie, the tres leche cake is my second favorite."

Mistress said, "I'll have the creme brûlée. Jeremy?"

"The coconut flan, please."

"I'll take Robert's recommendation for the chocolate bourbon pecan pie. He's proven to be a good sport," I said.

"Bring Beth and I a glass of the Remy Martin VSOP with the dessert, Robert," Mistress said.

"For you, sir?" He asked Ranger.

"Nothing for me. I've got to work."

"Very good." He turned to go.

"Robert," Mistress said. "What time do you get off?"

"The restaurant closes at 9:00. I'm usually out by 9:15. Why?"

"Do you have anywhere you must be after work, Robert?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"You may find it worth your while if you meet us in the parking lot right after work," Mistress said.

"Worth my while, how?" He asked.

"You would have to meet us afterward to find out. I'll not tell you ahead of time."

"How do I know I'm not going to be kidnapped or something?"

"Robert, do you think so little of us? Are you worth more than I suspect you are? Could you afford a $600 bill here? I'm rich. How do I know you're not going to kidnap me?"

"Maybe you'll sell my body to organ harvesters?"

"Are you truly worried I'm going to sell you piece by piece?"

"No, I guess not."

"Meet us in the parking lot after. You'll enjoy it. I promise. We'll have our dessert now. Thank you."

Robert left and Mistress laughed. "You wouldn't think it would be so difficult arranging to give the poor boy a blow job, would you?" she said. Since I suspected Mistress would not and Ranger was headed to work, it would likely be me giving said blow job. He was nice enough, I guessed; a fairly good sense of humor.

He came back with the desserts and brandy, set them down and left without a word being spoken. I'm sure he was still wondering what Mistress wanted. He didn't realize she didn't want anything from him but a random stranger's cock. What she wanted was to test me.

I'm normally so-so about pecan pie. I can take it or leave it without problem, but this was excellent. I picked up the brandy and said, "You're just trying to get me drunk so you can have your way with me, aren't you?"

Mistress laughed. "Drunk or sober, I intend to have my way with you tonight." Once again, a shiver ran down my spine, straight to my cunt. So much sex, and not just sex - great sex. Mind blowing, twat twisting, pussy pulsating sex. I'd already climaxed over a dozen times today and the day wasn't over. I sipped my brandy.

"Ranger," Mistress said. "Why don't you have the driver take you to work, then return here. Beth and I can sit and enjoy our brandies. We're kind of waiting for the place to close anyway."

"Yes, Mistress. I'll see you in a few days."

"Goodnight, Ranger. Be careful," I said.

Mistress waited until he was gone. Her index finger did a slow slide up the front of my dress, under the curve of my breast and over my nipple before she leaned back in her chair. I swear, sparks went from her finger to my nipple as it stood at attention.

"You've been at this for several days now, Beth. You must have a fairly good idea if you can go through with your desire to research submission from the inside."

"I have decided to apply for the position. I'm still unsure if I will take it if it's offered, Mistress. It's a long time commitment and I don't even know if my dissertation advisor will approve the research. He's concerned if anything goes wrong, he could lose his position. He's probably right. I don't want to do anything which would hurt him."

"I believe I have an idea which would keep you reasonably safe, Beth. Would you like to hear it?"

"Of course, Mistress. You're much more experienced in these matters than I am."

"Were you going to tell him you were doing this as research for your doctorate?"

"I hadn't decided yet. Would he act the same way if he knew I was doing research? Would he be better, worse or indifferent. Would he treat me differently? I want the honesty on his part to determine how legitimate my research would be. It's why drug research requires double blind testing. If you know you're getting the placebo, the research gets screwed up. Even if the researcher knows who's getting the real drugs, it fucks up the results, because they don't treat everyone the same. It's already not double blind, because I know I'm doing the research. If he knows too, will I be treated like a typical submissive or some research project of his own. The trouble is. Almost any research in this area will have some bias. Even the way I ask questions of others can create bias if I don't sound impartial; if they think I'm taking a stand on whether I believe submission is good or bad. It was one of the areas I wanted to discuss with Doctor Kline if he tells me to go ahead."

"Tell him. Put it right in the questionnaire. I'm doing research. I would like four hours each week of free time to email research and findings to my professor. Put where you've been and where you're going in each e-mail. Send a blind copy to me so it's in more than one persons hands. I doubt the man is a fraud - I suspect he's a legitimate Dom from his questionnaire alone. It's so detailed, it couldn't be from some wannabe, who might do you harm or sell you into slavery. But if you're clear you have people back home you intend to remain in contact with as part of your study, you'll have a play. If he's shady, he'll not pick you due to the risk to himself or he'll have problems guaranteeing you the time and if he can't, you don't go. If he's legitimate, he should have no problems granting your request.

"The question you're trying to determine is all related to the submissives and their frame of mind, not the dominant's. As you say, you are aware of the research; you're the researcher. Your bias is already there and it's the most important bias of the study. If you know you're studying submissives and submissive behavior, attitudes and emotions and you know you're studying yourself, it's there. The research will be legitimate or not, but if it's not, it's from your side of the equation, not his. In all likelihood, you're the biggest threat to your research, not him. If you tell him, you're protecting your safety, which should be a prime consideration. I can't say with one hundred percent certainty, but I don't believe I've treated you differently because I know you're studying it, with the exception that I'm trying to expose you to as much as possible in the shortest period of time. I would normally test your limits more slowly."

I thought about it. She was right. More bias was being introduced on my side of the equation. I was studying myself more than submissives in general, and I knew I was studying myself. How much of my beliefs, even my desires to do this research, was affecting what I was willing to do. Would I be having sex in public if it wasn't something I thought I should do to gain the experience? I was fucking up my personal perspectives and attitudes on a constant basis based upon my desire to do the research. I was not approaching this like any other submissive feeling their way little by little. Not that the research would lack validity if I was careful in realizing my importance in it. It was making my head spin. I'd had too much to drink.

"I think you're right," I said. "You've made some very good points. It's a lot to think about and I've had too much to drink to think clearly."