The Mistress and The Decision
Olivia Witt knows her tribe – the risk takers. She thinks of people as land lovers or sailors. Sailors leave the safety of the shore – casting off from security in search of the unknown.
That adventurous spirit can sometimes sound more glamorous than it is. The reality of the drama of the unknown is challenging but it’s never dull. I’m the master of turning mistakes into opportunities. No wait, she laughs silently, I’m the Mistress. As her car turns right on 18th St to avoid Dupont Circle, her thoughts continue, that wealth of experiences from taking risks really does make me the Experienced Mistress.
“Just cut over on R and drop me off at the Chest,” she says leaning forward to speak to her driver. “It’s beautiful out; take the rest of the day off.”
“Want me to come back and pick you up Miz?” the driver asks as he glides to a stop at R and Connecticut and then quickly walks back to open her door.
“Nope, I’m good. I’ll walk home from here.” Her long legs slide out of the car. “It’s a great day; go enjoy it.” She slides her coat off her slim frame and hands it to the driver. “Please just drop this off first. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Six pm pickup right?”
“Yep! Game time 7:05. See you tomorrow and thanks.”
She turns and walks the few steps back to Connecticut Avenue. A full smile dances across her face as she stops to look down into the plate-glass window display of The Pleasure Chest. A mannequin torso with black leather chest bondage is the centerpiece. A lighted heavy glass container displays anal toys like stems of flowers. Hmmmm, that’s a nice touch, she thinks stepping down into the basement doorway, classy but naughty at the same time. I like it.
Inside, she pauses a moment to get a visceral sense of the place. The music, Sexy Boy by Air, is just the right mix of intensity with a pop beat. Not her private musical taste but great for scene play.
The store is empty except for the slim man over by the fetish clothing. He looks decidedly uncomfortable, his longish auburn hair hanging down, slightly covering his face. A deep blush moves up his face as she walks closer.
“You’re not at Witt’s End but this is a good place for your next level of your submission” her low throaty voice reaches out to him across the dimly lit room. “If you are ready I will challenge you, guide you, shape you and, yes, do very naughty things to you. If you are worthy, you will experience life at Witt’s End. Remember what I told you at the beginning of your yearning for and exploration of your submissive side: you can only get to Witt’s End when you are at your wit’s end.”
By now, he has turned around, facing her, legs apart, head lowered, hands clasped in front of the unmistakable bulge in his pants. She sees his Adam’s apple working as he dry swallows and tries to speak.
“I see you are letting your hair grow as I instructed. That’s very good. Any problems at work about that?” she asks, knowing he is the night desk clerk at the Hay Adams. It’s a conservative hotel, and its position right across from the White House makes his job high profile. She doesn’t want any of her instructions to hurt his real life; she knows the value of being discrete about kinks in this very kinky town.
She pauses to give him a chance to answer. He soft voice says, firmly, “No Mistress, work is fine.”
“Good” she says firmly. “Today we begin the next phase of your training. Are you ready?”
She is now standing right in front of him, gently reaching down and undoing his clenched hands, putting the palms at his sides. He’s still looking down, his thumbs making jerky movements against his thighs, the wet spot expanding on the front of his pants. Her hand reaches between his thighs and begin to squeeze. His eyes close and his head tilts back involuntarily as a low moaning sound escapes his dry lips.
She alternately squeezes and strokes him through his pants. “Did you want to touch that? Did Mistress say you could?” she gives a slight tug and feels the shudder in his whole body.
“Nuh, nuh, noooooo Mistress,” he gasps, hips thrusting forward.
“Who owns that cock?” she asks in a firm tone.
“Yuh, yuh, you do Mistress,” he gasps out.
“Good,” she says and takes her fingers away from his crotch. Her hand moves up his body, fingernails lightly brushing on the fabric of his clothes. She traces down his cheekbone until she cups under his chin and lifts his gaze up to hers.
“Life is all about choices,” she says looking into his eyes, “You always have a choice – not making a choice is, in itself, a choice.”
He shifts slightly from side to side as her hand leaves his face, sliding inside her handbag and withdrawing a pair of handcuffs. As she snaps the cool metal around one wrist, she smiles at his gasp. “Come with me,” she says, turning to the door in the corner that says Private. “We will begin here.”
The next day, right at 6 pm, she opens the door to her townhouse just down from the Soviet Safeway at 17th and Corcoran. It’s called the Soviet Safeway because it’s so small it doesn’t have much selection and the clerks are fairly snippy.
As she gets in the car, she thinks again about how much likes the distinctive and quirky vibe of her city neighborhood. She likes baseball even more and she’s on her way to see the Nationals play her beloved New York Mets.
The Nats are one of the best teams in the National League East this year. The Mets are a young team, looking to rebuild. She hopes it will be a good year, but she wouldn’t be surprised to see that strong start come crashing down. When you’re a true fan, you stick with your team through the good times and bad. Even in a bad season, there are moments that capture your heart. She’s proudly wearing her Johan Santana jersey in honor of the only no hitter in Mets history.
At the stadium, she looks around at the sea of bright red Washington National’s jerseys. I’m outnumbered but that’s not unusual. She lives by the quote, “Well behaved women seldom make history.” Santana will go down in Mets history even though that shoulder tear will keep him out for the entire season and possibly end his career. That $25.5 million won’t hurt for the final year of a contract where he won’t even pitch.
The man from the train is also at the Nationals Park, also rooting for the Mets even though he’s with work friends from DC. He’s not showy about his team choice. He doesn’t wear his heart on his chest. He’s the guy who looks like he goes along with the crowd. But, in private he will show his true colors and today, those true colors are orange and blue.
It’s a close game; he looks up at the fancam. And he sees her. It’s the woman from the train! He’d recognize that face anywhere. He dreamed about her last night. In his dream he didn’t make the choice to look at his presentation. In his fantasies, he doesn’t miss his chance to meet her. In his daydreams he takes risks that he doesn’t in his real life. Now, he has a choice again. Will he leave the security of what he knows and keep her as a fantasy or will he choose to take the risk to live out that fantasy.
Once again, he’s not conscious of making a choice, but this time he takes a profoundly different action. He wrestles the binoculars from the man sitting next to him and begins to search the crowd over by each camera station.
Ever since that missed connection, he’s been dreaming about her. Is that her in the aisle seat, first base side, half way up…. that one dot of blue amongst the red. She has a 57 on her jersey! She’s a Mets fan! Then a fan finger obscures her face and the word Mets, emblazoned in blue across an orange background, fills the field of view.
I’m over by third, he thinks, If I run ….
In the bottom of the 9th in a close game people stay in their seats but he jumps up, surprising his friends. “I’ve got to go. I see someone…. I have to…” He sputters as he begins crawling over legs making his way to the isle. He ignores their protests. He over his shoulder, “I’ll see you guys later. Tomorrow. Next time. I’ve got to go.” He’s causing a scene now and surprisingly he doesn’t care. He has to catch up to her this time.
He’s charging up the stairs into the concourse as a roar goes up in the stadium. Game over and fans begin hustling out of the stadium. He takes a guess at the row and goes pushes the exciting crowd aside. He doesn’t see her anywhere. As the fans empty from that section, he walks down the aisle looking, searching for anything. He spots the blue plush finger with the Mets logo on it on the floor by an aisle seat and he stumbles down the stairs to pick it up. He looks at the other debris on the ground around it and sees a crumpled post it note. As he unfolds the paper his heart speeds up as he reads, The Crucible, Friday, open play 11pm.
Noooo! Like a child seated in the toy isle pouting because he didn’t get the toy he wanted here i sit at the end of Yours. Like a good movie i didn’t even notice the bottom of the page coming up. Submerged in the story again my heart was racing. As You ask the slim man who owns this cock i instinctively answered “You do Mistress” before even reading the next line. Over to soon i need more, (boldly) i want more. I bet the newspaper You used to write for is sadly missing You. Please don’t make me wait a week before the next part, but if i must wait then i shall on the edge of my seat! Great story! Thank You Mistress Olivia.
Ahhhh, thank you Bumkin! I love, love, love that you’re enjoying this story. Next week or so, I’m going to read the erotic fiction stories in the group on EE —- btw, I’ve finally read your first one (I apologize for the delay – when it’s wicked busy I get behind in all the other stuff I do but I will get to it 🙂 ).
I giggled that the starter anal toy is an inflatable butt plug! Ohhhhhhhhhhh, such a naughty pet! I’m thoroughly enjoying the way you describe the wicked tease and torment and YOUR aching, struggling, DELIGHT! ~grinz~ And, judging from that yummy hard cock and swollen, full balls you are in the midst of DELIGHT aren’t you? ~grinz~
You’re describing something called “layering” in BDsm play. It’s a layering of sensations or pain that makes the play more nuanced. You describe it really well and I should do a whole blog post about that. That phrase “Time just stopped.” is such an apt description of sub space. It’s a space of emptiness (in a sense) where time stops, the internal head chatter quiets, and it’s all about the SENSATIONS!
THANK YOU so much for your patience about reading the story. I didn’t want to skim and give casual comments, I wanted to leave you thoughtful comments and have a real conversation here with you! 🙂
~giggles~ I *think* I know where My story is going….but I’m finding that when I write, sometimes new things happen! So, I’m pretty excited about what will happen next too! ~smiles~
You Are Perfection!! Thank You I’m glad you liked it. I tell you one more thing about aching balls…my fantasies are more vivid. Got to get that feeling back for my next one. Lol
Ahhhhhh………you WILL get that feeling back…..that one of the (several) reasons for being on the Orgasm Denial Program! ~giggles~ You next (current) denial period will be much longer; especially now that I know you can take it! ~grinz~
Nice build up at the shop and then,poof, back to our story.
You are continueing the tease, I am curious if you will get more explicit for a payoff, or deeper tease.
Lol, keep them wanting more.
*waves* at Mike! I actually do have plot points….so yes, things will get more intense/explicit…..but this is all in the plot outline! I did do the outline so it reads (as best I can at this point in my learning process) like a story-story not just xhamster sex scenes. LOL I do notice that you can tell I really like mysteries and thrillers! 🙂
See as you are both a mystery and thrilling, I can see why 😉
~laughs~ Oh that is a good one wellspanked! Ten on EACH bare bottom cheek for YOU! 🙂
~snicker~ Visualizing some sites you know? ~smiles~
A Mets fan no less. This is getting good.
Why THANK YOU susan! ~grinz~ Are you a Mets fan too?
Indeed i am a lifelong Mets fan. Old enough to have seen them at the Polo Grounds and young enough to enjoy the prospects of watching Matt Harvey emerge as a star.
~smiles~ at susan! THANK YOU for the gift card sweetie….that is soooooo very thoughtful of you and I’m going to get some Mets fan stuff in honor of YOU! ~grinz~ After all, a girl can be very feminine and still love baseball! ~grinz~ WOW, you go back to the beginning of the franchise….~swoons~…..were you watching for the no hitter? I swear I didn’t even BREATHE and (of course) didn’t say out loud anything about a no hitter! (Oh yeah, I’m all about the magic woo wooo LOL). Wooooooooooo! I’m loving Harvey of course….but thought about moving to Toronto with Dickey and Thole! ~sniffles~ But, hey like you said…..LIFELONG METS fans …. we’ll unite and look damn cute in our gameday outfits! ~smiles~
I don’t know if this blog should be about the Mets but i was there in 1969 Tom Seaver lost his no hitter to the Cubs on a 9th inning hit by Jimmy Qualls. Did not see Santana’s game. i was watching Matt Harvey approach. the prize. Maybe next time. Can you believe how the Mets get a Cy Young winner and the first thing they can think of is to trade him away? Aaargh. Hope you enjoy your Mets stuff. Once upon a time when i lived in NY i went to Shea 20 times a year but only occasionally now. Just to stay on theme i would love to eat my cum for you.
~laughs~ You’re probably right susan! We did get a smidge sidetracked by the Mets….but hey we both love the team! And I do think it’s totally cool to talk about things other than kink here! ~laughs~ I know I’m thinking of you when I watch a game! And that makes Me smile!
I would LOVE to get to know you better….and, of course, do some naughty things with you!
Mistress Olivia, i must say You truly know how to make a guy miss D.C. Well dne on another very exciting and installment of Your creativity. Thanks for sharing. (And all the other wonderful things You have shared and done for/with me!)
Awww, kneel….that’s great that you’re loving the DC scenes! I’m enjoying writing! And, you might be able to guess where the next installment will take place! ~grinz~ But hopefully some parts of that next scene will be still be a shocker! ☺
Some very fine writing, MsOlivia. I’ll even overlook the stuff about The Mets. 😉
I love the swapping of the POVs for one thing. In the first part, we saw only through the eyes of the obsessed man. He didn’t know anything about the woman other than her beauty. She could have been anyone. A tourist or a high powered CEO. Maybe she was single. Maybe married with several children. I suppose we still don’t know that last part, but we do know that she does have power over men and not just the ability to give fellow train passengers a hardon. (And yes I’d love to know what happened in the room marked “Private”. 😉 )
Now what will the guy do when he does meet her? I suppose that should be “if” since DC is a big city after all. Will he submit right away? Be shocked? Both? We shall see.
~giggles~ at magnus about the Mets comment!
You’re so right, DC is a big city…..BUT, the communities are surprisingly small….and like many communities, everyone knows or knows OF high profile people. ~grinz~ Will he submit? Hmmmmmmm. Will he get the choice of whether to submit? Ahhhhhhhh, time and My time to write the rest of this erotic fiction will tell. Should I, as some point, call it erotic FRICTION? ~grinz~