Victoria Cums at the Bar

True story of my first meeting with Victoria, a sub I had been nurturing for over a year by phone and email. I am totally anonymous to her, and it's part of what thrills her. It's a very short read, but it's what happened on our first meeting. When I finish the "Lynn's Journey" series, I'll move on to telling Victoria's story.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was our first meeting. I had arrived early and gotten a seat at the end of the bar. It was beginning to fill as the workday wound down. I chose the place for it's proximity and dimly lit interior, but also because it was expensive enough to avoid running into anyone from work. The bar was dark and hummed (in a hushed kind of way) from business conversations and the chatter of bored rich ladies with nothing better to do. It never reached standing-room capacity.

I sipped my bourbon and watched my email. She doesn't know my name or phone number, where I work, where I live. She can only reach me by email. She calls me "Dick". She knew so little about me I wasn't sure she would show.

We found each other on Ashley Madison before the big data breach (yes my name was exposed but as far as I know, not found out by anyone I know). Over time through emails she learned she was submissive and I learned she had fantasies about public sex and gang bangs. She had a hard time coming to terms with being submissive because she thought she was a vanilla, take-charge, liberated woman, and like most vanilla people, she thought being submissive meant she was weak.

She was in a broken marriage with two daughters in high school and was going through a divorce. Eventually I started calling her on my way to work (number blocked) and she would literally fuck herself while I instructed her and shared taboo fantasies in her ear. She learned to edge. She learned to have multiple orgasms. She learned to squirt. She wanted to have a lesbian lover. She was 40 years old, and I had her to buy her first vibrator. She kept buying more toys. Now she's a regular customer at the sex shop and friends with the ladies who own it.

She arrived straight from work dressed like the career salesperson that she is. She had sent me pics so I recognized her when she walked in, and I stood up. Part of her initial training was that she had to send me a picture of her pussy every day to show that she wasn't wearing panties. I would have recognized her more readily if she were naked. I could pick her pussy out of a pussy line up.

She was much prettier in person than in her pictures. She smiled broadly and she made her way swiftly to me. She hugged me as she said "Finally, I get to see what you look like!"

"Hi Victoria, Do I meet your approval?"

"Oh yes, yes you do."

She leans up to give me what I thought would be a peck on the cheek, but she went straight for my lips. I tasted her lipstick. I felt her try to make it last longer than was appropriate and grabbed her arms and gently broke the kiss. She got the message.

She wore a little black dress, of a respectable length for work. Traditional pumps. Her hair, makeup and nails were well done. I knew she had her pussy recently waxed.

"You look nice in that dress."

"Thanks, I hoped you'd like it"

We sat on the bar stools and turned towards the bar. She smiled and scooted her stool next to mine so that her body was against mine. The pretty young barmaid with long red hair came over to us. Victoria ordered a rye whiskey.

We sipped our drinks and tried to talk like two adults but she kept breaking into giggles and staring at me as if I weren't real. Her eyes were blue and clear, and they sparkled when she smiled.

Finally, I asked, "Are you properly dressed?"

"It's a special occasion, so I thought I would wear something nice for you."

"Does that include panties? Did you ask permission to wear panties?"

She looked down at her lap between her arms, as both hands wrapped around her drink on the bar.

"Did you ask for my permission to wear panties, Victoria?"

She continued to look down.

"No sir" she whispered.

"Look at me"

She lifted her head, and her face was filled with disappointment.

"I'm sorry Sir. I was only trying..."

"Take them off"

She slid her stool back to stand. I put my hand on her back and stopped her.

"Here"

"What?"

My hand was around her back, along the top of her stool. I slowly slid my hand up her back to her neck, under her shoulder length hair. I grabbed a handful from underneath. A casual observer would think I was rubbing her neck. I tugged on her hair and said,

"Here. Do it right HERE."

Her hands left her drink and went to her lap. I could see her thinking about how she could do it. She pulled the hem of her dress back, high on her thigh. Her left hand was now on the bar for support as her right hand reached under her dress and grabbed the panties on her left side. She gently leaned to the right as she tugged on her panties. After a moment she repeated the process, switching hands and tugging on the right side of her panties.

She stood in front of her stool as if to smooth the front of her dress, and managed in the dim light to slide her hand under her dress and pull her panties down to her knees. She smoothed her dress underneath her ass and sat back on the stool, her panties high on her knees. She simply grabbed the panties and drew them down her legs, leaned forward and stepped out of them, one leg at a time, under the protection of the bar overhang.

She reached for her purse.

"Give them to me"

Her hand went under the bar to pass them to me. I held my hand out in front of her, above the bar.

"In my hand"

She looked around as she squeezed her panties into a ball and pressed them into my hand.

I opened up the black lace panties and held them up between us. A look of fear and shame overcame her.

"DO you wear these without permission?"

"No Sir"

"DID you wear these without permission?"

"Yes Sir"

"You should be punished"

"Yes Sir, I'm sorry Sir"

The panties appeared to be expensive, the lace was soft and silky and had a good hand. I discarded them at her feet, on the floor, behind the bar rail.

"Leave them. Get your bare ass on that stool."

Again she stood, and as she leaned back into her stool, she lifted the back of her dress so her bare ass was on the leather seat. The dress bunched up behind her prevented anyone from seeing anything out of the ordinary from behind.

We talked about ordinary things. Ordered another round of drinks, had oysters and smoked salmon as we talked.

"So, is my pussy wet now?"

"Yes Sir"

"It better be."

Taking advantage of the dim lighting, I reached my right hand into her lap, pulled her hem back and slide my curled finger up to her pussy. It's dripping wet. I slid my finger between her lips and covered it in her juices, taking time to play with her clit. She moaned and slid down in her seat as she spread her legs to give me access. I removed my hand and raised my finger to her lips. She sucked it into her mouth and cleaned it while looking directly into my eyes.

"It's time for you to make yourself cum"

"Here? How Sir?"

"Put your fingers in my pussy and fuck it until it cums. Right here. On the stool."

"I can't do that..."

My hand reached under her and grabbed the back of her thigh. I pinched it. Hard. Very hard. As I twisted it. I'm certain it left a mark. With a stern order whispered into her ear, "You will do it right here, right now. THIS is your punishment. Do you understand?"

"Yes Sir" she hissed.

My right arm went on to drape behind her across the top of the back of the stool as her right hand went to work on my pussy. Her left hand held the edge of the bar. Her eyes were closed. She leaned against me.

I leaned and whispered in her ear, "You're a naughty little cunt, playing with my pussy here in the open."

"Fuck it good for me."

"I can smell you. I can hear you."

"I can hear your fingers fucking my cunt hole. You're so fucking wet."

"You're such a little slut. You love it. You want them to know you're fucking yourself. Make that pussy cum for me. I want your juices all over that seat."

She was whimpering as she fucked herself.

"That's a Good Girl. You're going to cum for me in front of all these people and they won't even know it. Get those fingers deep in that cunt. Stretch that cunt hole. I'm so fucking hard for you right now."

Just at that minute the barmaid came over to bus our dishes.

My hand once again reached under her hair. I grabbed and I tugged.

"Open your eyes!"

Victoria opened her eyes and caught the gaze of the pretty young bartender. As if time stopped, she was still caught in the bartender's gaze as she started to cum. Hard. The bartender looked deep into her eyes. At first, she may have thought something was wrong, but then she realized the unmistakable look of a woman in the throes of an orgasm. And she watched intently.

I pulled Victoria by her hair and whispered in her ear, "She's beautiful. Don't you dare stop cumming. Don't you fucking stop. I want her to know I own you."

Victoria looked at the bartender, begging her to stay with her eyes, as she fucked herself through another long orgasm. It was so fucking erotic. Both of them knowing. Neither saying a word. When Victoria's orgasm peaked she was shaking and her chest was heaving. The bartender reached out and gently took Victoria's left hand into hers and continued to watch her face. She held Victoria's hand while she came.

When her orgasm was over, Victoria turned her face to me and dropped her head onto my shoulder, breathing hard. I smiled at the bartender. She smiled back. She let go of the hand and started to pick up our dishes.

"I'll have the check please."

I bent down and whispered in Victoria's ear, "You're a very Good Girl, Victoria. I'm very proud of you. Go wait for me outside."

She stood, grabbed her bag and walked out without looking at anyone. She didn't notice the bartender watching as she left.

I glanced at the empty seat and it was wet with Victoria's pussy juices. As the bartender came back with my check, I made a show of wiping the seat with the cloth napkin. I handed it to the bartender and she smiled and put it in her apron.

The tab had her name written on it, Emily. The obligatory heart dotted the 'i" and a smiley face hung at the end of her name. So Young. She waited for payment as I laid the cash on the bar. It included a $100 tip.

"Thank you, Emily. That was great service."

She smiled and blushed.

As I turned to leave she said, "Thank you, Sir."