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The street was busy with pedestrian and automotive traffic alike. Cars raced to and from their unknown destinations with the speed of
a comet, uncaring of the people around them. What did it matter to them that the woman walking slowly along the
street was feeling desolate that her boyfriend of six years had left her
for another woman? Or what did it matter that I was walking slowly along
the street, dodging other pedestrians going about their business, looking
for the adult book store?
Fortunately for me, they did not care. I was already feeling trepidation about walking into a sex shop,
even though the items I was seeking were not for me. The thought of standing in a store with rubber cocks and sexy
lingerie already delivered a pink hue to my cheeks. Again, fortune smiled on me, as my beard would help to hide the
blush the seemed to shine like Rudolph’s nose.
I dodged a young man carrying a newspaper under his arm and nearly
collided with an elderly woman walking her tiny dog that was yipping away
like an incessant alarm clock. I
looked up and walked right past the store with the black windows and the
cardboard sign reading: “Adults only, no I.D. no admittance.”
Shit, I thought as I continued on.
Had I have turned around it would have been obvious to the
countless strangers on the street and in the passing cars that I had been
heading towards the porn shop. I
did not know any of the people on the street or in their vehicles, but I
felt as if they knew me. I
could almost imagine the encounter, a thousand people with a thousand
questions about what I was doing in a sex store.
I walked around the block, slowly pacing myself until once again I
was outside the door of the store. Steeling
up my courage and swallowing heavily I turned quickly to my right and
darted into the store.
I was immediately assaulted with aisles of aisles of sexual
paraphernalia. I stepped
through an anti-theft detector, my head spinning, trying to take in all of
the sites of the shop. To my
right were three large aisles of lingerie. Panties and bras, stockings and corsets, garters belts and teddies;
all of varying shapes and colors and sizes. I was amazed with the selection. To my left was the check out line with novelty gifts like edible
panties and cock and ball shaped spaghetti noodles.
Stepping deeper into the store I came to a set of stairs that led
up to a large videocassette area. Looking
up I saw about a dozen rows of tapes as well as the four walls of the
upper floor lined with tapes in various categories from lesbian to
transgender and bondage to anal. The
vibrant colors jumped out at you from above, each of the box covers
screaming for attention, designed to pull your eyes to it.
I was searching for a gag gift for a friend of mine for his
bachelor party that was being held less than a week away. I had decided on a whip or some item like that, a gag gift for a
good friend. In front of me
was the section I was looking for, a section devoted to S and M. I passed row after row of artificial cocks and butt plugs and
sauntered into the section of toys containing leather gear and bondage
toys.
I did not know what I wanted to purchase. I started by looking at the paddles. Perhaps his future wife would find that amusing; taking a paddle to
her new husbands backside when he misbehaves. Yes, that could be amusing, I thought. There were gags and I briefly wondered if that would be amusing, a
tool to silence her whining spouse if he gets on her nerves.
I almost laughed when I pictured them not taking them as a gag
gift, but as a real one.
A voice from behind me startled and frightened me at the same time,
“bring me that collar.”
I turned jerkily to see a strikingly beautiful woman standing alone
behind me. She was a few
inches shorter than me with long, brown hair that fell to her hips. Her eyes were glowing with a look of power and that regal
look transferred into her voice. The
sound of her voice dared you to question her and I found myself unable to
resist. I reached out and
grabbed a thick leather collar with silver studs running along its edge. Holding the collar to the woman with the commanding eyes and
powerful voice I stammered, “he...here.”
She tilted her head, “you don’t think that is for me, do
you?”
The authority in her voice was amazing. It was that tone that had originally frightened me. As if it dared you to disobey. “You asked for it?” I said, cowering slightly.
“Put it on.”
So simple her words, but so amazingly strong. I could not disobey. Fear clutched at my chest; she terrified me. I did not think she lash out at me, but in the strong timbre of her
words there was the hint that she could. She was a powerful woman used to getting her way and I knew as I
started fastening the collar around my own neck that I would, as she
expected, do as she commanded.
“Much better,” she said as she looked at the collar gripping my
throat. “Now, kneel.”
Without thinking I dropped to my knees and cast my eyes to the
floor.
“You take direction well.”
I opened my mouth to speak, and seeing my body tense to speak she
said, “not a word.” I
knelt there on the carpeted floor of the adult sex store being appraised
by this woman who had so easily captured my mind with the power of her
voice and the look in her dark brown eyes. She walked around me, inspecting me like a farmer inspecting a
prized bull. “Stand,” she
commanded.
I climbed to my feet without a sound.
“I am hungry,” she said to me. “Go across the street and
bring me lunch. Understood?”
“Yes,” I said, sounding small.
She raised her eyebrows, “yes?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I corrected my error.
“That’s better.” She
picked up one of the paddles I had been eyeing as my gift.
“What would you like to eat?” I asked, nervously watching her
heft the paddle. It was
amazing to me how easily she was able to spin my mind into a frenzy of
frightened energy.
My head spun when she slapped my thigh with the paddle. It wasn’t an overly painful slap, but the sound echoed in
the store and I knew that all eyes were on me. The blush in my cheeks from entering the store paled to the burning
I was feeling in them with the humiliation and pain of being slapped by
the paddle in such a public forum. “Let’s
just say you had better get it right.”
As rapidly as she had appeared by my side, she turned away just as
quickly. She began browsing
the store, leaving me to obey her words. I looked at her with awe, I did not know her name and still she
commanded my mind to obey her commands. She was charismatic and strong and I felt that I couldn’t
disobey.
How was it that she captivated me so? I found it amazing that she had commanded me and I had no desire to
disobey. Why was that? I started to walk outside to the hamburger joint across the
street, pondering as I went. As
I stepped past the checkout stand a loud alarm rang out, echoing like a
shrill cry in my head. The
sound stopped me cold and I looked around in incomprehension.
“It’s okay, Donald,” the woman that had commanded me said,
smiling broadly, a laugh threatening to escape from her full lips.
“Mistress,” the man named Donald said and silenced the alarm. I realized what it was; it was the theft alarm and I was
wearing a collar that had not been paid for. I blushed at the realization; I was stepping out into the crowded
street with her collar ensnaring my throat. What would people think? That
it was a Goth thing I silently hoped.
The street was as busy as when I hurriedly rushed into the sex
store, but now, upon exiting onto the sidewalk I now knew all eyes were on
me. Before I had only
suspected that I was the center of attention and that everybody on the
street knew that I was a pervert shopping in a sex store. Now, standing
outside the same shop wearing a leather collar, I was certain that all
eyes were on me.
Muted laughter and silent conversations of the passer-byes were all
directed at me and my cheeks burned in the realization. I swallowed heavily and before I had time to consider my actions I
ran across the street into the Burger King restaurant. Of course there was a line and I had to face the demons of
the hungry mob as they all looked at me and the collar that encircled my
throat. The collar bobbed
when I swallowed and slowly I made my way from the back of the line to the
front.
“Sir,” a young black woman asked, “is this for here or to
go?”
Trying to ignore the eyes that were watching me I replied in too
small a voice, “to go, please.”
“Sir?” she asked again, turning her head to hear my strangled
voice.
Louder, “to go, please.”
“What would you like?”
I don’t know is what I wanted to say. I had asked roughly the same question and my cryptic reply had been
only that “I had better get it right.” What would the lovely woman with the piercing eyes and commanding
voice like to eat for lunch? I
shook my head as I silently studied the neon menu glowing above the young
girls head. What would she
eat?
I considered a salad but could hear her response as I handed her
the leafy green plate, “what? Do I look fat to you?” Maybe a burger, “are you saying I look like a man and would want
this?” Could I win in a
situation that was practically unwinnable? I opened my mouth to order, shut it, swallowed heavily and jumped
off a ledge. “Chicken
sandwich please, a small order of fries and,” scanning the drinks, “a
large ice tea.”
The young woman rang up my order. “I keyed it in as a combo.” She hit another button, “that will be four dollars and fifty-two
cents, sir.”
I nodded. Fishing my
wallet from my back pocket I paid the woman and when she handed me my
change I stepped to the end of the counter to await my order. As the woman handed me my order she said almost conspiratorially,
“nice collar.”
I rushed back across the street, wanting to hide from the eyes of
the city that had been pointing and laughing at my collar. I returned to the store and as before the alarm sounded its shrill
cry. Douglas immediately
silenced the alarm and with a nod I thanked him for his discretion. I knew that the few shoppers that were present still were alerted
to my presence, but still the silence helped. I quickly crossed over to the woman that had commanded me so
readily and held her lunch to her, “ma’am,” I began, only to be
silenced by a firm slap across my face.
“Kneel before speaking,” she commanded me. Her face was shining in delight; she took pleasure in berating me. Was it another aspect of her strong-willed persona? Most likely, I reasoned.
I dropped to my knees and once again held her meal to her,
“mistress,” I said this time, using the word that I had heard Douglas
utter from behind the counter.
“You are learning,” she said to me, taking the bag from my hand
and grabbing the tea with the other. She set her drink down and opened her bag. She pulled a fry from the bag, ate it, and said, “very good.”
I smiled at her, pleased that I had picked well. Pleased? I wondered. Why
was it that I was happy with myself that I had made her happy with the
lunch I had purchased? Could
it be that I was a perfect compliment to her dominant nature? I had always been one to just “go along.” Could that be transferred to being one to obey with delight? Was it possible that I was the ying to her yang when it came to her
strong-willed nature?
Perhaps she knew me better than I knew myself. I pondered that as she commanded me to kneel behind the counter and
wait for her to eat her lunch. I
knew that she was powerful; I could read that power in her eyes and body
language and I could hear that authority in her voice. She was confident with who she was and what she wanted and she
easily expressed her desires. She
was comfortable in her skin and I knew that she could read others for what
they were. Her confidence was
overwhelming and as I knelt where she had directed I knew I would continue
to obey her.
When she finished her lunch she stood above me and asked, “what
are you doing this weekend?”
I swallowed heavily, “I have no plans,” I admitted.
“Good,” she smiled down on me with a grin that would make
Angel’s sing. “You will
be at my place Friday night at seven. Be prepared to spend the weekend. You will be sleeping in my closet. If you are good I will give you a pillow. If not my dirty clothes will serve as your bed.” She handed me a business card with her address written on it in her
flowing script. “Any
questions?”
“No, mistress,” I said weakly.
“Good,” she said again. “Wear
your collar when you come over.”
And as quickly as she had previously appeared at my side she
departed the store, leaving me to wonder what the weekend would bring.
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