The bond of submission

Elle me fit le récit de notre rencontre. Elle m’écrivait en anglais. Je lui répondais en français. Ce fut un accord tacite de facto. Il y avait là un très vif plaisir de conquérir la citadelle d’une femme dans sa deuxième langue. Et peut-être même, si ça se trouve, dans sa troisième…

I was late. A client delayed me. I was somewhat flustered as I rushed into the metro station, as I was the first time. I found a bench and sat with my eyes closed, as agreed.

L’obéissance à un ensemble de consignes simples, c’est beau.

Within minutes, Monsieur’s submissive appeared (well, so to speak that is). D… sat down next to me and held my hand. She talked. She conforted. She reassured. She spoke about who she was, vaguely. She apparently gave me her first name. She said she completely understood where I was coming from.

I felt a strange bond with her. The bond of submission.

Taken in Hand

Monsieur appeared soon after, I believe.

You must understand…when your eyes are closed and your world is limited to one man, there is no sense of time.

L’obéissance à une consigne à la fois simple et difficile : garder les yeux fermés jusqu’à nouvel ordre. Ça aussi, c’est beau.

They both talked. He apparently gave me his first name. I did not give mine as the information I had already provided him would reveal my true identity and I would be too vulnerable.

Je n’ai pas besoin de votre nom, ni de connaître votre métier. Ce n’est pas cette vulnérabilité qui m’intéresse…

The talking was used to reassure me. I had to remain still, mute and with my eyes closed.

He said he wanted to move into a bit more intimate environment but still public, still at the metro station. He asked if I would feel comfortable in her car but that it wouldn’t move, just stay parked where it was in a very public area.

D… reassured me. He asked for my consent. If I consented, I was to raise my hand and put it on his. This was perhaps the most defining moment of my submission to date as it required, for the first time, my active submission.

After a couple of hesitant moments, I slowly raised my hand.

Ça aurait mérité une belle photo, ça.

He said to raise it higher. That order to raise it higher was very symbolic to me, indicating my clear and unequivocal step to the next level.

Monsieur took me in hand. I could not remain passive any longer. I consented because I did feel safe.

At this point, D… took me in hand. Eyes remaining closed, she led me to the parked car. Monsieur had gone first to warm it up. Walking with Monsieur’s submissive, a stranger with whom I have such an intimate bond… very surreal yet so very real.

D sat in the front seat. I got in the back with Monsieur.

He never touched any of my intimate, private areas. He did however, order me to sit straight and open my legs. He felt my panty hose and I felt him reaching for something. The next thing I knew, he was cutting them off.

J’aime cette disponibilité nouvelle chez une femme que je ne connais pas… que je puisse la prendre à mon envie… ou ne pas la prendre même…

He went to cut my panties off but I stopped him because I was wearing pink ones, my only pink pair, which my husband had seen me readjust earlier this morning and he does the laundry.

Monsieur listened and stopped immediately. He covered me back up somewhat.

I was not exposed….at least I think not. I have no idea.

It is irrelevant, in any case. I wanted to please him.

He put his hands close but never touching in order to stir my desire. He took off my bra without taking off my blouse; never really touching me. He readjusted all my clothing properly.

It was an extremely relaxed setting. He would talk casually with his sub and me. He was acutely aware at all times of both our situations and well being. I didn’t detect any malice in his voice or intonation but that remains to be seen. Not everything is as it appears.

He remained involved with his sub, putting a gag on her while she sat in the front seat. He had first put that gag in my mouth but not secured in any manner just so she could taste me. He would ask her if she was alright. At one point he took it off her which was lucky because soon after someone knocked on the window to ask a question.

So I sat there with tattered stockings as Monsieur caressed me with his skin. His hands ran over my face and neck, alternating between soft, gentle caresses to grabbing my hair, pulling me down. It was a beautiful, sensual dichotomy.

He told me to remain still. I felt the point of a knife sliding down my face. I felt no fear for some reason. This is what confuses me here. My submission was so perfect at that moment that I was lost in Monsieur. I had complete trust in him. A stranger. A complete stranger. That really wasn’t smart on my part.

C’est dommage que la soumise dénigre son ouverture alors qu’elle vient de se faire confiance et qu’elle n’en a pas été punie.

He had me lie back on his lap. He continued to softly stroke and comfort me; sometimes grabbing my hair and neck. He spanked me a couple of times, once quite hard 😉

Oh, si peu.

The music, Shostakovich; my favorite composer as his work always resonated with me. Now I know why. I believe it was his Second Waltz playing in the background. The song ‘Strangers in the Night’ was playing. Coincidence? I think not. What a surreal experience!

He stroked my face and neck for quite a long time. I loved the tenderness.

It sounds very pitiful as I write this but I realize that no man, meaning my husband, has shown any kindness, any gentleness to me in such a long time that I relished every moment of it. My husband does not come near me. I have not been touched in so long.

It’s weird when I say it because I sound like such a loser but until you write the words, you don’t realize how pathetic your situation is; you just live with it.P

The normal becomes abnormal, I guess. And the abnormal is becoming new normal for me.

His Hold

It was so incredibly erotic. I held D…’s hand at various points and she spoke to us.

But I don’t think I need to anymore. I just need Monsieur’s hand now. Very comfortable situation. Monsieur respected my time constraint and, save for the pantyhose, I was returned unscathed.

Monsieur walked me back to the inside terminal with my hand in his. He kissed me on the forehead. Our first kiss ;).

He ordered me to turn around, facing away from him. He put one arm around my waist, the other arm circling my neck and secured his grip.

In the middle of Métro station on a busy Friday night, Monsieur exacted my sexual submission. I was symbolically bound to him.

One last hold in the middle of a busy Métro station.

I can still feel his hold on me.

The bond of submission.