She looked straight ahead through the windshield, trying to ignore the other cars on the road and the people they passed on the sidewalk. She hoped showing no interest in them would be mirrored by a lack of interest in her but she felt as if a spotlight were on her, as if every eye found her and held on to her until she was out of sight. Silently she prayed at every traffic light they approached. Green. Please be green. Don’t make us stop. On the other hand, he seemed as if he were on another mundane drive into the city. His expression passive, neutral. One hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the center consol holding a thin chain, the occasional flick of his wrist would flip the leather strap handle back and forth. The other end of the chain was clipped to a thin leather collar she wore around her neck. Other than a pair of high heels it was the only thing she was wearing.

The evening had started out as a normal Friday. As soon as she got to his house she took a shower and dressed for the evening. The shower was her ritual for starting the weekend. The hot water washed away the tension of her job and helped her ease into the mindset of this new relationship. She still had a hard time calling it what it was. Being a submissive. Surrendering control of yourself to someone else. Being someone’s pet. It was so unlike her but the more she gave to him the happier she found herself. Upon seeing what he had laid out for her to wear, her collar and a new pair matching heels, she was a little surprised. This is how she usually ended up before the night was over but he normally started her with nice lingerie, stockings, and a dress. He had explained to her she was dressing to be undressed. As she fastened the collar around her neck she still could not believe she could think of someone as her master yet alone wear a collar, a visible symbol of  ownership. Yet she loved the way she felt when she wore it.

She was waiting to hear the garage door open and close, her signal to get in the waiting position. He had taught her several positions. She suspected he was making most of them up as they went along but it was fun. Being instructed, coached, disciplined. The waiting position was standing facing the door, feet together, head and eyes down, hands behind her, almost as if frozen in a slight bow. But she decided she want to set the tempo for the night. Slipping off her shoes she waited as the garage door opened and closed, then his truck door closed. When he began to open the kitchen door she rushed across the room, hurriedly slipping on the shoes, and rushed into position, timing it so he caught her in the act. She could not read his expression but knew what it meant when he pointed at the ottoman. Bending at the waist, placing her palms flat on the ottoman, she was surprised by the sound of his belt being pulled from his pants. Usually punishments were progressive. She had expected to be scolded, she had expected his hand. The lashes were hard and swift. Seven of them. He went to change clothes and left her as she was. She was puzzled. Something was wrong. His spankings had a pattern. Always multiples of five or an even number. It could be five or ten, six or eight, but never seven.

“Inspection”. She had not heard him return and quickly jumped to inspection position. Standing up straight, feet apart shoulder width, hands behind her head, elbows pointed out. Fingers grazed the skin under her arms, checking for stubble. She was ticklish and had to exercise control to keep from giggling and jerking away. She was practicing control. He would often tell her she was not to come without his permission even though everything he was doing was drawing a climax from her. He seemed to know just how far he could stretch her and delighted in pushing her as far as he could. Next his hand was sliding up the outside of her leg and around her hip. Down past her belly button. Checking the places where she shaved and the places where she trimmed. His fingers did not explore as deeply or as long as she wanted. She thought she felt the faintest of touches on one of the welts left by the belt. “Turn” She had hoped to search his face, his eyes, to read his mood but he quickly clipped the leash to her collar and led her toward the kitchen. Maybe he has had a rough day too she thought, maybe a drink will do for him what the shower did for me. But instead he led her toward the door to the garage. She hesitated, stumbled. When the chain for the leash went tight he turned to her. The look in his eyes, his expression, body language, everything told her ‘do not test me’. She lowered her eyes and continued forward.

She was trembling as they pulled out of the driveway. Was this a test? Would he drive around the block? Take her back home and give her a reward for being a good pet? No, as he got onto the interstate heading into the city she knew where they were going. She could not do this. Would not do it. She would have to use her safe word. They had two simple words. Yellow and red. Yellow meant slow down this is too much too soon. Red meant stop. Stop. She had used yellow once and he had listened. Things were taken slower. Some things were even taken back a few steps. More than she felt she needed. She was afraid if she said red things would stop. More than she wanted. Could she do this, would she, for him? For the past couple of weeks he had been online searching for information on clubs for the Dom/sub lifestyle. He had not told her this but she had seen it on his iPad. She had done her own research. Had seen the images of subs being led around on leashes, being shown off, being groped and prodded. Some had been loaned to other Doms to do with as they pleased. Her thoughts were snapped back tot the present when he placed his hand on her thigh. She responded as she had been taught, spreading her legs as wide as she could. She was grateful the height of the truck shielded her from view but the heat of shame grew in her face with each person they passed on the sidewalk. Her shame also grew as his fingers touched her. Her body gave away her arousal. Her labia swollen. He did not have to enter her to feel how wet she was as he teased her. The heat was building there too.

After a couple of turns they were traveling slowly down a dark side street. Exactly the type of street where a deviant sex club would hide, she thought. He turned the truck into a dark parking garage. Was he going to lead her out of this garage and down the sidewalk naked? As he walked around to her door she kept repeating in her head: red, red, red, I can’t do this, red, red, red, I can’t do this, red, red, red. When he opened her door she sat still as a statue. He gently took her chin in his hand, turning her face toward him. As she looked into his eyes her hand went to the collar, fingering the script stamped into the leather. The same phrase repeated over and over. The phrase she had selected. incepto ne desistam.  ‘May I not shrink from my purpose’.  She took his hand and stepped from the truck. She was surprised when he held out a long coat. He must have had it hidden in the bed of the truck. He buttoned the coat around her and silently led her to an elevator. She was surprised again when they stepped out of the elevator into a motel hallway. He produced a cardkey from his pocket and let them it to what turned out to be a large suite. As he slid the coat off her shoulders he whispered into her ear ‘wait until you see the size of the whirlpool tub.’ ‘At ease’. She assumed the position, feet apart and arms crossed behind her back. On a table she saw an assortment of finger foods. It was not trip to a sex club but a weekend getaway. Tension and anxiety poured out of her as she watched him pour a drink at the small bar. She could not wait for him to let her show how happy she was. Click  Her heart skipped a beat when she heard the door unlock. She looked at him as she heard the door open, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘Well, well, well’ said a deep male voice ‘looks like you have already had to warm this one up’ as a large rough hand rubbed her ass before giving it a good hard slap. The man walked by leading a petite woman on a leash. Her dark skin contrasted sharply with her white off-the-shoulder dress, the material so thin and tight it was obvious her nipples were pierced. ‘What are you waiting for?’ the man said as he unclipped the leash. ‘Take off that dress and go say hello to your new friend.’ The woman peeled of the dress letting it fall to the floor and walked toward her, looking her up and down, a sly smile on her face. The woman knelt in front of her and began to lick her, like a cat giving a bath, where she was shaved and where she was trimmed. She looked at him, concerned, confused. He responded by telling her to turn around and bend over. The other man said ‘how long before the rest of them get here?’

The rest of them???