Our first date, June insisted that we meet in a very public place. The entire date was to happen as we eyed eachother while sitting on facing benches, right in the middle of the heavy rush hour traffic of the train station. When she had suggested we meet there, after asking her where she would feel safest, i grinned to myself as i held onto the phone. The obvious security she'd feel in such a venue didn't make me feel defensive or creepy. I liked that she felt the need to put up safety measures, but i wasn't certain from who she was protecting herself.
As one of my favorite pastimes, I had spent many hours in peaceful solitude anchored to a seat in the veranda of the depot, just watching people. I'd watch them walk, the way they stepped their feet down, how they shifted their bodies to avoid oncoming pedestrians. The pageantry of flowing bodies fascinated me, and i found myself thrilled to be a pebble in the midst of it as a static witness. I knew that June felt the same way, but as shy as she tried to pretend she was, she also wanted the attention and eyes of those who walked by. June was an exhibitionist.
When she finally arrived, she was wearing many more layers than the hot weather demanded. She rushed in, late, flustered and incredibly apologetic, offering both vocal and postural penance. I knew all of this was on purpose. She'd spend the next 30 minutes of our rendez-vous sweating, fidgeting, fanning her face with her hands, then eventually peeling an article or two of clothing off. She wasn't attempting a civic and pathetically clumsy striptease. She sought the endurance of being humiliated, degraded and put in severe discomfort while the hundreds of eyes that hurried by looked at her in pity. Recognizing this desire of hers, a very familiar hunger rose up inside of me. I became quite merciless.
I didn't say anything for the next ten minutes, staring at her quietly behind tersely held eyes. I watched her body give over to the abuse she was putting it through, changing right in front of me. Not one to carry a conversation on her own, June fumbled through her explanation for why she'd arrived late. Ignoring her pleas for polite forgiveness, i eyed her appearance with disgust.
I leaned forward, putting my head right at her shoulder and sniffed heavily through my nose. I let her scent take root in my nostrils for a few seconds, then whispered into her ear.
"You smell...dirty. Couldn't you even stay clean enough to last through our date? You reek like a filthy, desperate slut."
She sucked in a pocket of air through her mouth. Her face reddened as her shoulders rolled into her lap, shrinking her already minute frame. Clearly, she'd given her appearance some effort, but was it the effort of someone who only had so much to offer or that of someone who hoped to be called on her shortcomings.
I got up from the bench and left her sitting alone in the train station.
8 comments:
i don't think this would do it for me in real life, but somehow reading about it was incredibly arousing. but what happened next is what i really want to know. surely the thrill of meeting her need for humiliation was not fulfilled in just one short meet? and, further... (ahem, sorry for so many questions) you speak so often of your desire for a girl who stands for very little, a bitch. but june sounds like the opposite-- easy to conquer. was she just a momentary sidetrack? or is your attraction actually to something much broader?
Hi! I really enjoy the writing on your blog which I first discovered today via Married Man's Fucktoy. I was wondering if these were the real-life accounts, and I am sorry I haven't read enough to figure it out?
Few people understand the power using silence this way. i am impressed, not only by that, but by everything i have read on your blog. i will be making my way through the archives as time permits. You are a talented writer. Thank you for sharing your words with us.
Pet, actually, I had this boyfriend Hagan who was the only other kinky lover, anyway, not quite like my husband J, the former was very good with mental manipulation and withholding communication and getting up to leave and things like that. But I found it mostly hurtful rather than arousing. I prefer it the way J is.
You had great power and control over her in that moment, but was it satisfying to you? And if so, did that satisfaction come in part from your awareness she desired your ridicule, or would you have enjoyed doing that even if she hadn't "hoped to be called on her shortcomings"?
Such fantastic questions!
meg,
Next...yes, will we learn what happens next? The thing about June was that, on the surface, she was way too mousey for me, but i could sense that she was hiding a very powerful and magnificent personality. I later was able to bring out her hungry bitchiness.
amber,
You again! So happy to have your name stamped all over my comments. You're a dynamic presence with a clear stake on excitement all your own.
puppy,
Goodness, i get the added pleasure of having someone like yourself drag her finger over my pages. I'm out of my freakin' gourd with your adulation.
wg,
It was incredibly satisfying. Once she showed her desire in this field, i knew that i was in for a long expedition that would culminate in some serious battles.
Amber, I wasn't just thinking about using silence as a D/s tool. My Master told me once He uses this in business and oft times He will just remain silent and almost always the person He is dealing with with either talk themselves out of the request they made...or figure out a solution to whatever problem they were complaining about...or end up apologizing for whatever they had come in on a rampage about and all He did was remain silent. It seems the tool could be useful in a D/s setting where one person had all the power, but seeing as He is upset with me right now and hasn't spoke to me in almost six hours, i would have to agree that it is mostly painful.
Sorry Deity for conversing via your comment section. i still think your blog rocks!
You know, i'm late to the party, but hot damn this is one 'it shouldn't be but it is' forbiddingly tempting post. i hate to admit it, but as persephone says, it was incredibly arousing to imagine happening to me...
Well, in any event, i'm curious as to what you did after you left her there, a dirty filthy out of control slut, no doubt, high on the adenaline of power and assertion of control...? Is that part next? What does one do after something like this, whereas, i could answer for myself, the one sitting there lower than low; i'm curious about the other perspective. Seeing how you've shared so much of this previously...
Your words are like a mental playground for me... thank you
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