Zoe

"And this was your first try at it, yes?"

I nodded again, humbly. Short of just telling him to rack off, I saw no other choice.

"Good. And the second thing I can tell about you is a bit different. That outfit you have on is a perfect tenner. But Claire -- such an eye she has! - noticed some subtle bumps and shadows which suggest that you are wearing something... unusual under it? Am I right in that, Zoe?"

I closed my eyes, opened them before nodding again, slowly, hesitatingly.

His smile faded, but his overall expression remained friendly, supportive. I felt that I could fall into his eyes, they were that enthralling.

"Show it to me." It was less than a directive, more than a request.

Despite the entire idea of my expedition, despite necklace, despite shibari and despite vibrator - despite it all - I was shocked at his expectation.

I shook my head. "No."

"No? Then tell me, Zoe, why did you put on a bondage harness under your kit before you went for a walk this fine morning, if not to risk getting discovered? Or do you belong to another?"

My eyes were locked onto my knees.

"Look at me, Zoe."

Two ages and an eternity later, I raised my eyes to his.

We were sitting in the open in an upscale café. I knew I could simply get up and walk away. I knew that, but as riveted as a bird by an approaching snake, I simply could not make myself move from where I sat.

My heart pounded, and it wasn't just the damned vibrator inside me. My soul seemed to rise at the chance I knew could be mine.

"We can do this two ways, Zoe. The first is for you to do what you and I both know you want to do, which is to lift the hem of your skirt where you are sitting and show me what you are wearing. That will leave us as friends and give us both an opportunity for the future. Or - or - you can say No again, in which case we will just finish our cappuccinos and go our separate ways with no hard feelings.

"It's not every day I get to spend an hour with such a pretty young woman. I've enjoyed your company and do hope you've enjoyed our time together as well. But now it's up to you. Which is it to be?"

My heart was hammering. I was terrified, yet I also felt I was in the brink of... what?

Fulfilment?

Destiny?

Or something else, something much, much darker?

I moaned as the bloody vibe chose that moment to go into overdrive again.

I had endless choices; I had no choice whatever. Not letting my eyes slip away from his, I reached down and slowly lifted my skirt, holding the hem up against my chest. The vibrator slowed down as I did so.

"Spread your legs a bit, Zoe. Ah, that's better! Very pretty indeed. Did somebody do that for you or did you do it yourself?"

I found myself unable to respond. I let the skirt fall.

After a moment, he reached across and stroked my cheekbone with a gentle finger, smiled.

"You did it yourself, didn't you?"

I didn't know whether to be proud or ashamed. Still silent, I nodded meekly.

"Its beautiful, Zoe, artistic and very sexy. What I could see of it, that is. How far up does it go? Or did you just limit it to your bum and thighs?"

"It's a full tortoiseshell, all the way up."

"What a beaut! You're very talented, Zoe, for an amateur. You are a beginner, aren't you?"

I didn't know what to say.

"Is there somebody else with a claim on you?"

I shook my head. There certainly wasn't, although too many nights had been filled with dreams of one - a strong, demanding, patient, kind, knowledgeable, assertive man. Only my dreams had never shown me his face.

He smiled, laid his hand on the table, palm upwards in invitation. "I would very much like to see the rest of it, Zoe."

The rest of it - that would mean...

I was so desperately torn. I so wanted this man's approval. My body ached for his touch, the touch of a man I'd not known for an hour.

I wanted to be sure.

I wanted to be pushed.

I wanted to be led.

I wanted tomorrow to be safe.

I wanted today to be... what?

Not normal, that was for sure. Anything but normal.

The indecision must have shown on my face, for Gideon spoke again.

"Zoe," he said softly, sipping the last of his cappuccino and dropping a bill on the table to cover the cost of our coffees, "it has been a sweet morning and perhaps we will see one another again. I am going to leave now. I am going to my flat, three minutes' walk from here. I hope you come with me, for I do wish to see the rest of that pattern. The choice is yours."

With that he rose to his feet. Passing me, he leaned down and kissed the top of my head in passing, like a mother kissing a small child on its way out to play. He leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Dare to follow your dreams, Zoe. She'll be right."

With that, he strode out of the cafe and out the door. He didn't look back.

I sat there, torn in so many different ways.

He'd said we might see each again. I wanted that. I thought I wanted it.

And he seemed to understand and I had so desperately sought that kind of understanding ever since I became a woman.

And he seemed nice. Certainly handsome and well-groomed, well-dressed. His wristwatch would have cost my rent for a quarter.

And Claire looked terrific.

But I was terrified of what he might be. Worse - I was terrified of what I might turn out to be.

And good girls didn't want to seem forward. Oh hell, who was I kidding about 'good girls'? Good girls didn't -- as I found myself doing as I heard the door close -- have to bite off a squeal as a momentary pulse from a vibrator drove them close to insanity in public.

I sat there in complete frazzle for perhaps 20 seconds. Deciding, I lurched to my feet and, as quickly as I could on unpractised heels, ran after him. The sound of my heels seemed to echo thunder in the room around me.

Bursting out the door, I saw him turn a corner just ahead. Rounding it myself, I saw him about to enter a doorway like any other.

"Gideon!" I cried.

He turned at the sound of my voice. A heartwarming smile crossed his face. My heart gave a double beat at its warmth. And the damned vibe shot up again, reminding me of how this day had been intended. I barely managed to control the wobble in my gait.

"Zoe! I am so glad you changed your mind!" He held the door open for me and gave a small bow as he waved me through.

His flat was on the first floor, up a flight of real marble stairs. The building was like a dowager determined to maintain her looks at any cost. Clean and well-maintained, it could only be described as 'stately'.

His key went into the lock without so much as a sound, held in fingers concert pianists would kill for.

He paused before opening the door. "Are you sure, Zoe?"

"No," I said. "I mean Yes. I mean, I think so. But No, I don't know what I'm doing."

His smile was comforting, endlessly warm and gentle. His hand softly traced my jawbone and I felt as safe as I had felt daring an hour before.

"That's OK. I do."

With that, he pushed open the door.

His flat was surprising. I wasn't sure what I had expected, but it hadn't been this. It seemed immaculately clean and tidy, as if being readied for a pre-sale viewing. Skylights made it bright and warm, as if one was actually outside. Gauzy curtains blocked a view of what was obviously a balcony outside.

The predominant colour was a light cream set off with large highlights of warm medium brown. A modest but serviceable kitchen was located unobtrusively in one corner; an overhead ring of iron hooks above a small butcher-block island was festooned with shiny copper pots and pans. The centre of the room was open and brilliantly lit by the sun; the floor was covered with an elaborate rug in cream, orange and dull red.

The walls held perhaps a dozen framed black-and-white sketches or drawings, all obviously by the same artist. While most were perhaps 12" by 18" in size, some were smaller, one no bigger than a postcard. All were done in a bold, simple fashion.

The people in them were... odd. All of them were distorted to some degree or another, some to the point of being grotesque - men with erections as large as themselves, women with ornate hair farting in the direction of a sour-looking naked dwarf, naked women at their toilette or surrounded in ecstatic dance by swirling hair and fabric.

Deformed as they were and despite the simplicity with which they were drawn, the figures were immensely vibrant, alive. I felt myself being drawn by the intensity the artist had so purely portrayed.

I was impressed with Gideon's taste. I went from one to another, turned back to see him watching me approvingly. One eyebrow went up in question.

"They're amazing!" I said excitedly. "Who...?"

"Aubrey Beardsley," he said. "19th century. Glad you like them." He smiled again, then, "Would you like something to drink?"

I shook my head, bubbling with unstated questions, then fell silent as I remembered why we had come here. The vibrator had backed off; I could feel just the barest tingle between my legs.

"No?" Gideon asked. "Well then, why don't you put your handbag down and then come over here into the light?"

I moved towards the rug, stopped and bent over to remove my heels.

"Leave them on, Zoe."

This time, it was a command; I left them on.

He looked at me standing there, my hands by my sides. Then he spoke, his voice low. "Well?"

That one word sent shivers all over me. I really had no idea. This whole scheme looked really, really crazy to me now. My adolescent fantasy about walking around in public had somehow morphed into me about to take off my clothes in front of a total stranger in his flat, a man I'd only known for an hour. What was I thinking?

Inner Zoe was laughing hysterically. What had I been thinking about if not exactly and precisely this?

I gulped, closed my eyes and, crossing my arms in front of me, reached down for my hem. In one smooth motion, I pulled it up over my hips, then my shoulders and over my head. Pulling my arms out of my sleeves, I dropped it on the floor by my feet and stood upright for his inspection.

To my surprise, he said not a word about my body, the shibari - none of it.

"Pick it up," he said, pointing at my dress. "Never be sloppy, Zoe. Pick it up, fold it neatly and put it by your handbag." Again, it was not a request.

Wordlessly, I did so, returning to the centre of the rug. I could feel the warmth of the sun on my shoulders.

"That's better, Zoe. Now you need to present yourself properly. Stand up very straight and put your hands behind your head. Spread your feet apart. Wider - shoulder width. Good. Now arch your back to push your chest out. Excellent."

I was both exhilarated and embarrassed at the complete exposure the position left me in. No know what else to do, I kept my eyes on the floor.

"Some doms, Zoe, want their subs' eyes downcast at all times. Right now, I don't want that. I want to be able to watch your expression, see your soul through your eyes. I want you to look up and forward, Zoe, all the time until I tell you differently."

I raised my eyes, looked him in the face. His expression was at once stern yet encouraging, patient yet demanding. Above all, I saw openness, kindness. He smiled and again his finger traced my cheekbone. I felt helpless yet so incredibly powerful. I felt the air moving over my body in a way I had never felt it before. I found it exhilarating, liberating.

Oh, and intensely erotic.

"Stand still while I examine this most artistic marvel, Zoe. Do you mind if I touch you?"

It was a curious mix of command and almost humble request. I was perplexed, but nodded.

"Thank you."

Gideon walked around me on the rug. I could feel his grey eyes moving over every part of my body. From time to time, a slim finger would trace a section of cord, stroke the skin beneath or beside it.

"Am I to understand that this is your first time wearing such a..." he paused very briefly, "... creation, Zoe?"

"Yes."

"And nobody helped you?"

"No."

I felt his cool, strong hands sweeping over the skin of my bum, up my waist and settling on my shoulder. I'd thought I couldn't be any more turned on, but I was very wrong. And it was a different type of arousal entirely. The vibrator had left me wanting to cum; Gideon's gentle caresses left me yearning - desperately needing - to be possessed.

"You made only one small mistake in symmetry, Zoe. One loop went over back here when it should have gone under. Especially given your inexperience, it's brilliant."

He removed his hands from my shoulder, gave me a gentle kiss behind one ear. I thought I would melt right there.

Gideon resumed his inspection. Finally, he had returned to a position immediately in front of me. Reaching up, he cupped my breasts, his fingers sweeping under the ropes at their base.

"And these clips are so clever,' he smiled. "And so perfect for such perfect breasts."

For some reason, I was almost disappointed at his respectful tone. Deep down inside, I wanted to be thrown over his shoulder and carried into his cave.

Beyond him, I could see his bedroom through an open door, a neatly-made bed with a sturdy wood frame and a lot of pillows, a bureau with a large mirror. Beside that open door was a closed one fitted with a deadbolt lock. Between them on the wall was a large, full-length mirror in a heavy frame. I could see the two of us in it, watch his hands linger over my breasts.

"How long have you had them on, Zoe?"

I looked at the clock on the wall. "Maybe an hour and a half?"

"Oh, no! That's far too long, girl! We need to get them off. May I?"

To me, they seemed fine. My breasts felt taut, tingling, aching to be touched, but presumably he knew better than me. I nodded again.

Very softly, very carefully, he removed them, put them on a nearby side table. They gleamed on the dark wood. Then the sensation hit me.

He'd been right. My nipples hurt now - sharp, deep pain to the extent that I sagged forward. I might have collapsed had he not caught me. He held me for a moment, then helped me stand back up. His lips came down, softly, on mine and the tip of his tongue swept slowly and lightly over them as tender hands caressed my breasts, helping to restore blood flow to my nipples.

I moaned with both pleasure and pain.

"Wait a bit," he whispered. "You'll be fine."

His hands left my breasts and began to roam over my stomach and thighs. A gentle finger traced between my legs. Suddenly he pulled away from me, half-kneeling in front of me. A curious finger touched the vibrator's loop protruding from between my labia. His eyes went wide.

"Zoe, are you having your per...?" he stopped, his other hand on my mound obviously feeling the vibrator dance inside me, letting him know that, no, I wasn't wearing a tampon.

"Is this a vibe?" he asked, his eyes wide.

I nodded, this time feeling both embarrassed and proud. "Mm-hmm."

He rose, his face beaming, eyes wide in admiration. "Such daring! Such an adventurous girl! And it's been going all the time?"

"Since I left the house, yes."

"Bewdy! No wonder you have been squirming! Zoe, very few women could endure that for long. Not willingly. Who has the control?"

"Nobody has it. It's by the door in my unit."

"Have you cum yet, Zoe?"

I shook my head. "No. And I really want to! But I promised myself that I wouldn't until I got home."

A curious look came over him, part admiration, part pity. And lust -- I could see that in his eyes. "Oh, but I want you to cum, Zoe. May I help you?"

Seeing the look on my face, he grinned. "No, I didn't mean that, Zoe, although perhaps another time. For right now, I want to get you used to the idea of your orgasms being controlled by somebody else. Perhaps 'guide you' would be a better way of starting it."

I thought for a moment. "How?"

"Well, let's start off by simply removing those lovely ropes. I'd love you to have photos of them first though, especially as it is your first time."

My hesitation must have shown on my face, for he smiled again and said, "Do you have your phone with you, Zoe?"

I nodded.

"Then let me take them with your phone. You would own the photos, not me. But something this significant, this beautiful, this daring should be recorded."

When I nodded again, he brought me my bag. I took out my phone, unlocked it and handed it to him.

For the next minute, he circled me, the phone flashing and clicking. Then, deliberately, he set it down.

"It's time to take them off, Zoe. The effect is so lovely, but I think you'll be impressed with the marks it has left. Just relax now; let's do it together."

He was of course correct, for once the red cords were removed, their image remained their place, a pale 3D photographic negative etched into my flesh. My fingers lingered in them, as did his.

Gideon picked up my phone again and raised an eyebrow. "As you were before, Zoe." I resumed my standing pose and again Gideon's room was filled with flashing lights as he took photo after photo of me.

Meanwhile, the insatiable device within me continued to tease and torment. I tried hard not to cry.

Finished, Gideon stepped back.

"OK," he said, "it's time. Where would you like to go from here? Most subs aren't offered the choice, but you and I are in an odd relationship. I promised you an orgasm, adventurous Zoe. How?"

"I have a choice? And, er, what about you?" I could see the tent in his trousers. It fascinated me. I had seen photos, videos, but never the real thing, in the flesh, so to speak.

It was time.

"Zoe, you are a remarkably pretty girl. You have also shown a sexual daring, an inventiveness which has not only amazed me, but as you see..." here he waved a hand over his groin, "aroused me. And, even more amazing, you did it without seeming a slag.

"I want you, Zoe. I very much want you holding and stroking me, I want you kneeling in front of me, I want you bent over that table, I want you squealing and bucking under me in my bed."

I went scarlet at his bluntness but, unbidden, my hand went forward, stroked his length under the fabric of his trousers. His breath hissed a little.

I let my hand fall away, my eyes falling to the floor again. "I'm sorry. I... I don't know..." My ignorance and, dare I say, innocence must have shone through, for Gideon pulled back from my hand.

"Zoe, do you mean to tell me that you...?"

"Yes. I mean No. I mean not yet."

Both eyebrows went up this time.

"But I think I want to," I said, my heart pounding. "With you. Here. Now."

His face turned serious. "With me, Zoe - yes, too right. Here? Quite possibly."

Then he shook his head. "But now? I don't think so."

"But why?" Dammit! I was so ready! Weren't Aussie boys always ready?

"Perhaps I should have said, 'not quite yet', Zoe. To start off with, are you on any form of birth control?"

I looked down at the floor. "No," I whispered. Inner Zoe smirked -- how could I have overlooked something that obvious?

"Well, there's a big reason right there. And, despite the positive press, condoms don't always work."

I almost started to cry.

"But," he said gently, "I think we can be sure you leave here happy."

I looked down at the floor, not sure what to think.

He took my chin in his hand, aimed my face at his. "Zoe, you are not to cum without permission. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes, sir."

I nodded. "Yes, sir."

Within me, the vibrator surged and I bent forward at the waist, unable to hold myself upright.

His voice cut through the sensations. "Zoe - sit up! It is not yet your time!" His hand seized my hair and pulled me upright. My inner Zoe moaned with me. I was a hairbreadth away from orgasm. His hand pulled on my hair, moved my head up to look into his face.