Boring and Unadventurous
Epilogue One
I do not really believe in safewords. How can one surrender completely to another person if that surrender can be cancelled by the simple utterance of a word? Instead I prefer to rely on my judgement of the person I wish to surrender myself to, and I would have to say that over the years, I have proved myself to be an excellent judge of character and have never got myself into anything I couldn’t handle.
Except perhaps for last night. It was not that my judgement of her was wrong. Even though she did not yet know herself to be this, I could see right from our first meeting that she was a kindred spirit who was worthy of my submission. Indeed of this I was entirely confident, having myself in some small ways, deliberately steered the course of her life in the preceding weeks towards our meeting. But I was completely unprepared for the zeal and vigour with which she applied herself to the task of accepting my surrender and my need for punishment. My initial delight at the sight of her beautiful, shaved crotch was replaced with no small amount of real fear as again and again I pushed my tongue as far as I could into her, and each time she just berated my efforts to reach the spot she demanded as ‘pathetic’ and commanded me to resume the position she had dictated would be for ‘incentivising’ me. And the ingenuity she showed in finding ways to ‘incentivise’ me was breath-taking. I had equipped her with only a pair of handcuffs and expected nothing more than a spanking from her hands, but she took the plastic bottom from my travel bag as an improvised paddle and used that on me. And when that was worn out, I found to my dismay, and some small joy, that the parts of a hotel room trouser press can be ‘pressed’ into service to make a wayward slut’s bottom hurt even more. But worst of all was when she used my own shoe on me, holding it by the heel and slamming the sole into my poor derrière.
I am reminded of all this as the train rattles over another set of points and though my seat here in First Class is soft and wide, my bottom has suffered such an ordeal at her hands that the pain is even now rather eye watering. I summon the steward and order a large gin and tonic. I don’t normally drink alcohol in the morning, but today I will make an exception.
She was right about the need for incentive of course. Despite the fact that one’s tongue can only extend so far, somehow I found a way to reach her intimate spot and reward her for punishing me so cruelly. But I was mistaken when I thought that it would be all over then, for again her ingenuity and zeal took me by surprise. In many years of sexual encounters, I have of course been gagged many times, but who would have thought that the most effective gag I have experienced would be improvised from two unopened packets of dry roasted peanuts from a mini-bar, stuffed into my mouth and tied there with my own stocking. And then she trussed me up with the cord that operated the curtains and the flex of a table lamp, and I spent the night on the floor while she slept in the bed.
And of course at breakfast she was as if nothing had happened. She was again the friendly, cheerful, beautiful and professional lady that she had been before I had so rudely propositioned her the previous evening, except that now there was a change in her aura and she was no longer intimidated by me. I might still be her boss, but we are equals now. When I get home no doubt my husband will laugh at my bruises, and he will add a few more of his own to punish me for my infidelity, for that is what he always does when I stray. And I will soak it up and both hate and enjoy it like a good slut should.
Perhaps I should have known that in dominating a slut like me, she would learn and succeed just as quickly as she has learned and succeeded at everything else I threw her way in these last few weeks. I doubt that we will do anything like this together again. By the time I see her next, she will have found herself someone as special as she is, and will not be interested in an old bird like me. And to be honest, this old bird will be more than a little relieved if that is the case.
Epilogue Two
“So, am I still allowed to have a boyfriend?”
“Hmmm. Maybe occasionally. But only for casual sex. No falling in love.”
“Sounds fair enough.”
“And I reserve the right to have sex with him too. If he’s cute that is.”
“So, separately or both of us together?”
“Could any man survive both of us together?”
“Maybe not. It might be fun to find out some day though.”
“And no sneaking off to spank your boss again. I should be jealous, but really I’m just impressed. I wish I’d been a fly on the wall for that. If she wants her arse roasting again, you come and get me and we’ll do it together.”
“I doubt she’ll ask me again. I think she got more than she bargained for. It was like something in me snapped and all the years of frustration and anger at myself just came bursting out. I don't think you need to worry though. I've got it out of me now.“
“Well that's a relief. My arse feels safer already. And if you’re allowed a boyfriend, then I’m allowed to keep you styled. And choose your clothes.”
Oh, okay. But no blouses. I still don’t think I could wear a blouse. Too much like school uniform. You never saw me in a school uniform. It wasn’t a pretty sight.”
“Okay, no blouses. Blouses aren’t sexy anyway. But I am going to choose your UNDERWEAR.”
“Oh. Does that mean I’m going to be wearing stockings?”
“Always.”
“Oh God. My poor, freezing thighs.”
“Your cool and sexy thighs you mean. And if you’re worried about being cold down there, why did you shave all the hair off your pussy? Not that I’m complaining. I get a lovely little reminder of you every time I see an oven-ready chicken in the supermarket.”
“Hmmm.”
“So are we getting up, or are you going to keep me here in bed all day? My hands have gone back to sleep already.”
“I thought I might keep you here till about lunchtime. I might keep popping back through the morning to take advantage of that lovely tongue of yours.”
“When did you learn to tie knots like these anyway? I still can’t move.”
“I’ve learned a lot in the last few weeks. Including I might say, how to deal with my uppity friend, now apparently my lover.”
“Well you can’t keep me here till lunchtime anyway. Aren’t we going to meet this guy Mike and his wife for lunch?”
“Ah yes, Mike and Natasha. I can’t wait to meet her. I wonder if she’ll be in some hidden bondage.”
“Oi. Watch it. You’re a spoken-for woman now, remember? Aren’t I being submissive enough for you?”
“You’re not really submissive. You’re just in love with me.”
“True. But there is a certain excitement that comes with being tied up and the mercy of a psycho woman who’s gone from completely repressed sexuality to ‘woohoo, I’m a crazy, kinky, dominant and, although I’m still not quite sure how much, definitely slightly lesbian’ sexuality in a matter of weeks. You sure know how to keep a girl guessing. So am I staying put like this, or am I getting up to make you breakfast?”
“Mmmm. Maybe a bit of both. How about we open another bottle of Tiffanylaura sixty-nine and afterwards you can make breakfast while I practise doing my hair for you.”
“Sounds like an excellent compromise. Except, please don’t try to do your hair. It takes me twice as long to fix it if you’ve been meddling.”