Her
I ate enough of my dinner to satisfy Nathaniel but, even so, every mouthful was an effort. I was so nervous, being there with him, my throat felt half its normal size as I forced down the meal. It wasn’t only the promise of the evening to come. It was more basic than that. I still didn’t understand why he wanted me – especially after how I’d acted ever since he’d met me. He was just too good looking, too rich and self-assured.
Sitting opposite me, so stunning in his tuxedo, his composure both enthralled and dismayed me. I felt like a little girl in his presence – naïve and rudderless, flailing from one disaster to the next.
I hoped tonight wouldn’t be yet another.
When I finally put down my cutlery and drained the last drops from my wine glass, he looked at me for a few moments, consideringly. ‘Come on,’ he said, standing up. ‘Let’s get you appropriately attired.’
He led me back into the bedroom. On the sheets, a squarish box lay, shallow and matte black – a wide, baby-pink taffeta ribbon wrapped from corner to corner across it.
‘It’s for you,’ Nathaniel said, moving behind me. ‘Open it. See what you think.’
My fingers trembled as I pulled at the ends of the bow. The ribbon was loosely tied and fell apart, its ends trailing across the white silk of the sheets as I began, tentatively, to open the box.
‘I hope you like it,’ he added, sounding less sure of himself than he had at any time since I met him.
As I lifted the lid, I had no idea what to expect. It was clothing – that much I’d guessed already – but what kind of clothing would be appropriate for Dominion? I had visions of black leather or, more intimidating still, latex. My heart raced as I peered inside.
Whatever was in there was not yet apparent, layers of pink tissue frustrating my need to find out quickly. As I peeled them back, I was at first perplexed, then relieved. Nestled inside the tissue paper was an outfit, which I could see at once was entirely suitable for its purpose, but neither black, nor rubber.
‘You’re a Dominion virgin,’ Nathaniel said, as I removed the top article from its packaging. ‘And untouchable. I wanted to reflect that.’
‘But where did you…?’ I began, trailing off as I lifted the white leather corset up in front of me.
‘We have a shop, of sorts, at the club.’ He put his arms around my waist and gently picked at the knot of my dressing gown until it fell open. Then he lifted his hands to my shoulders and pulled at the gown until it lost its hold on me and fell to the floor.
I hardly noticed. I was utterly captivated by the garment in my hand and merely swapped it from one hand to the other to let the gown drop. I could feel his eyes upon my nakedness as I moved over to the mirror, still holding it up in front of me.
It was beautiful – finely stitched and soft as kid – and, as I pulled it down and over my breasts, I understood why he’d chosen it. The bustier part was revealing, merely a network of leather laces, yet it hid my nipples, pushing up the swell of my breasts from below. Beneath that, it tapered off into a tightly panelled corset, laced up the front with more strands of leather.
It stopped at my hips, suspenders dangling uselessly from front and back, the rounds of my buttocks peeking out from behind, my pubic mound exposed in front. I turned this way and that, pulling at the laces to tighten it and trying to figure out if I was doing it justice.
‘It’s a good deal more modest than some of the outfits.’ He shot me a smile, as if my fascination amused him. ‘I don’t think you’re quite ready for that kind of thing. But you can’t go dressed like a nun. Then, you really would stand out.’
Modest? I had on nothing but a corset. I hoped fervently that there was some kind of undergarment in amongst that tissue paper.
It seemed there was, because he went to the box and sorted through the packaging. But what he drew out was a pair of thigh-high leather boots, as white as the corset.
‘Put them on,’ he commanded, and I sank down onto the bed, pulling the boots up my legs before zipping them tight up the insides of my thighs, all the while trying to keep my legs closed. At the tops of the boots were suspender fittings.
I looked up at him. ‘Do these…?’
He nodded. ‘Allow me to assist you, Miss Anderton.’
I stood up and he knelt down beside me, his fingers snapping the fittings deftly into their holders. His touch against my legs made my bare skin pulse but, even so, I couldn’t help laughing as I looked down at him. ‘Well,’ I said. ‘Is this for real? Are you kneeling before me?’
He stood up, one eyebrow raised and an amused expression on his face. ‘Don’t get used to it, Angel,’ he said. ‘And less of your cheek. You’ll suffer for it later, you know.’
Despite my nerves, his words sent another thrill through me, tingling my clit and making my walls clench with excitement despite myself. I felt my nipples harden as he put his hands to my shoulders, turning me until I was standing before him.
He perused me thoughtfully. ‘Yes,’ he said, finally. ‘Just one more thing, I think.’
At last, I thought, relieved. Something to hide my modesty.
And it was, in a way. He pulled a small white leather package from the box, and carefully shook it out. But it wasn’t underwear, it was a mask. He pulled it over my head, its leather soft and light against my cheekbones.
‘Look, Angel,’ he said, manoeuvring me back over to the mirror. He whispered in my ear, ‘My very own sex kitten.’
And I was. The mask fitted perfectly over my head, small ears standing up on either side of it. Large eyeholes made it easy to see how it looked, as he laced up the back of it, pulling it in comfortably tight across my nose and cheeks.
‘I feel I should purr,’ I said, self-consciously.
‘You’ll be purring later,’ he said, running his hand across my bare buttocks. ‘I shouldn’t wonder.’
With that, he turned to go out. ‘If you’re accustomed to your new look,’ he said. ‘I’ll wait outside.’
‘Um…’ I began. ‘I…that is…I look…’ I indicated down below the corset to where my skin remained resolutely bare.
‘You look stunning,’ he said, sounding surprised. ‘As always.’
‘Yes, but…’ I said. I could tell he knew exactly what I meant and he was enjoying discomfiting me. ‘I need some…knickers or something.’ A skirt, preferably, I thought to myself.
‘Knickers?’ He looked bewildered. ‘Whatever for?’
‘Well, you can’t expect me to go out like this,’ I said, exasperated. ‘I’m half naked.’
‘Hardly half,’ he said, with a frown. ‘And it is the best bits, on show.’
‘I’m not sure anyone else would agree with you,’ I said, firmly.
‘I can assure you any hot-blooded male would think so,’ he said. ‘So we’ll have to agree to differ.’
‘Even so,’ I countered, feeling my mouth tighten mutinously. ‘I’m not going out like this.’
‘I’m not going out like this, what?’
‘I’m not going out like this,’ I paused, hating him momentarily for making me say it. ‘Sir.’
‘Tut tut, Angel,’ he said. ‘The list continues to grow. All the same, since you look so adorable, I’ll take pity on you.’
He walked back over to the box and, after a moment or two of rummaging through the tissue paper, he pulled out another small white garment.
I shot him a scathing look as I took it from him. He’d known all along it was there. He just grinned wickedly back at me and I couldn’t help smiling.
He left the room, as I began to unwrap the panties but, as I stretched them out, it became apparent that they were going to do little to hide my dignity. Made of the same leather as the rest of the outfit, they were less panties and more a thong. I inched them up over the boots until they were resting in place, pulling the suspenders into my thighs. I went to the mirror and looked at myself, aghast. They barely covered me in front and, as for the back, it hardly appeared I was wearing underwear at all.
‘Hey!’ I began, marching as determinedly as I could, considering the boots, after him.
But he was already at the front door. As I reached him, he held a long black coat out to me. As I reluctantly let him help me on with it, I went to protest again.