“So you’ve decided?” I asked her, as soon as I had answered her call, without even a 'hello.'
Little bitches don’t get a 'hello.'
“Yes. I want to do it.”
“You accept and will abide by all the rules and boundaries?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
A brief silence.
“Yes…Daddy.”
“That’s better. I will see you here at my hotel room in fifteen minutes.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
I disconnected the call.
I poured myself a whiskey, neat, and sat down to read on the couch of my penthouse suite on the top floor of the city’s finest hotel. I waited patiently.
----------
I had been working on this girl for a few months. She was eighteen years old and I had found her in an online chat room. She claimed to be exploring her submissive side and that she was looking for an “older” Dom to help her experiment.
We chatted for a few weeks. We had met in person twice.
The first time was purely cordial - to get to know each other, etc. I was the picture of gentle kindness, totally respectful and courteous.
I could tell on that first meeting that she would have come back to my hotel room if I had asked her. She was literally squirming in her seat by the end of dinner.
It was July and warm, so she has worn a red summer dress. She looked incredible in it.
She was about five feet tall, thin and petite, with shoulder-length blonde hair. Her breasts were proportionate and perfect, somewhere between a B and. C cup. Her dress was cut low and showed off her cleavage. Though she was a small girl, her legs appeared pleasingly long for her size, and her sun dress left much of them exposed. Her skin was lightly tanned, from days at the beach in what I was certain was a very tiny bikini.
I patiently answered all her questions about what it meant to be in a Dom / sub relationship. She got a glassy, hungry look in her eyes as we went through the details. Some girls are extremely submissive by nature but often have to wait until adulthood to really explore it. I could tell this girl fell into that category. Probing her submissive side had clearly been a sublime experience for her so far, and she was eager to eat up as much of it as she could, as fast as she could.
At the end of the meal, I told her I had to get going and that we could continue our conversations online.
She looked crestfallen, and I could tell she was close to doing something desperate to get me to take her back to my room then and there.
However, before she could say another word, I walked to her side of the table and stood over her while she was still seated.
I looked down at her and I put my right forefinger under her chin. I firmly but gently pushed up on her chin, raising her pretty face so that she was looking directly into my eyes. I held my finger there as I spoke.
“Be patient. We won’t rush this. We won’t begin until you're ready."
“When will I be ready? How will I know?”
I smiled.
“You’ll know when I tell you.”
“Okay,” she said, her disappointment written all over her face.
I removed my finger from her chin and then I used my entire hand to gently but firmly grasp her by the throat.
“Good girl.”
Her reaction to that was visceral. She smiled up at me and almost seemed to melt. She squirmed in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs and touching her face and body with her hands. I could feel the adrenaline rush she was feeling because her reaction caused me to experience my own rush.
I left her like that as I made my exit.
We continued to chat online. She had tons of questions and I could tell she was doing lots of research on her own.
At our second face-to-face meeting, I was a bit more stern and aloof. It was getting close to decision time.
She had more questions, but I continually corralled her back to one, simple concept.
"Before we begin, we will agree to a set of boundaries and limits that we will both adhere too. After that, you turn your brain off. I say, you do. It's that simple."
"Okay," she said, somewhat timidly.
At that point, I calmly and clearly outlined the rules that would expect her to follow if I became her Dom, and she became my sub. She listened attentively, with her hands in her lap.
We talked about limits; she told me the things she was willing and not willing to do. We established a safe word.
Finally, we sat in silence. I just waited, saying nothing, looking at her.
"So now what?" she asked, "Am I ready?"
I said nothing for a few more moments. Then I let a small smile emerge on my face.
"I want you to think this all over for one more day. Tomorrow, I expect a call from you at a quarter to seven in the evening to let me know if you are ready to agree to all of the rules and boundaries we discussed today. If you say yes, then I will expect you at my hotel room door at seven sharp. If you say no, which is perfectly fine, then we will go our separate ways."
She paused for a moment, taking this all in. She was trembling slightly, a combination of nervousness and excitement.
"Okay," she said.
----------
There was a knock at the door. I looked down at my watch. Seven on the dot. A good start.
I didn't move from the couch. I took my time sipping my whiskey, continuing to read.
After about five minutes, I heard more knocking.
I let her wait a few more minutes and then walked to the door, opening it.
She was dressed in a white crop top blouse, with no bra underneath, that fit snugly over her firm breasts and left her flat belly bare. She wore cutoff jeans shorts and strappy sandals. Her hair was in a ponytail, and I could see that her fingernails and toenails were freshly manicured and pedicured, with a pale pink nail polish. She smelled fresh with a light scent of body lotion.
She stood there nervously, fidgeting, looking up at me.
"Stop fidgeting," I said sternly.
"Yes, Daddy." She stopped moving immediately.
"Hands behind your back. Stand up straight."
"Yes, Daddy." She obeyed.
"This position is called standing at attention. When you arrive at my room, you are allowed to knock once. After that, you will stand at attention and wait for me to open the door. No matter how long it takes. Understood?"
