This is stupid, and you know it. You’ve been beating yourself up all week as the date approached. Common sense says that you should just email him and tell him you’ve changed your mind.
You’ve started that email a dozen times and deleted it each time. Why can’t you just call the whole thing off? Because you’ve been fantasizing about this for years and he’s giving you what you’ve always wanted, that’s why.
But it’s crazy. You don’t know him, what if he’s nuts? What if no one every hears from you again after tonight? Sure, you’ve taken some precautions. He even recommended them. A good friend knows you’ve got a … well, you told her it was a blind date and that you rented a hotel room just because it was a ways outside of town.
Of course she didn’t believe it, but she agreed anyway. If she didn’t get a call from you tomorrow she would know where you had been staying and call for help. A good friend that thankfully didn’t ask embarrassing questions.
A week of setting things up, making the reservation, packing a small bag, blushing at anything that made you even think about this coming weekend, and now it’s Saturday.
The morning is spent at a salon getting hair and nails done. Normally you would feel like this was pampering yourself, a relaxing experience, but not this time. This time you are being ‘made’ ready for someone, you are being groomed like a dog for a show. He put those words in your head, and now you can’t escape them or the way that they make you feel.
The normal chit chat of the salon is out of your reach and you find yourself unable to look anyone in the eye. After paying you practically run out, blushing, and head to your next stop of the day.
A lingerie store that you would never set foot in normally. It’s too fancy, too fetish… but this is where he told you to go. Stalkings and a garter belt, black lace, and nothing else. This is what you would be wearing under the little black dress that you would wear to the hotel. Just the thought of it is making you shake.
The time is going by too quickly. Is it too late to email him? To call it off? No… He would accept it, but you couldn’t do that now. You’d come this far and you wants to see, wanted to feel.
At home you strip, shave, and shower. Standing in front of the mirror, nude, you appraise yourself. Why is it that when going to meet someone it seems like every tiny flaw is magnified a thousand times in your own mind?
He wouldn’t like that thinking, so you stomp it down and dress. It’s an hour drive to the hotel and you need to get going. An hour drive, and the whole way you keep pulling down on this skirt, trying to hide your nakedness beneath, convinced that every truck that drives by knows exactly what’s going on.
That goes double for the young woman at the hotel counter. You walk through the door in a little black dress, nothing underneath but a garter belt and stalkings, carrying a small overnight bag, and what else could she be thinking?
You give your name and she checks you in, giving you the key, informing you that your guest has already checked in.
He has?! Is he in the room? Of course she doesn’t know. You head up to the room, mind racing. You’re not late, so why is he already here, you haven’t prepared everything yet as he instructed.
You’re terrified as you open the door to the room, not sure of what to expect, but find the room to be empty… wait, not completely empty. In the room is a chair that you’re certain doesn’t belong to the hotel.
It’s a simple wooden chair, very stable, with a hole cut in the middle of it and a wand in the middle…
It seems this is what he was talking about when he said he was sure there would be a chair that would fit his needs at the hotel.
A note was taped to it. “Follow your given instructions, use this chair, set the wand on low before locking the final restraint.”
This was it then, no turning back now. You set the bag on the bed and empty it. Cuffs, chains, padlocks, a gag, blindfold, an anal plug. Your brain has shut off at this point, blessedly, and you’re just doing as you’ve been told. It’s so much easier this way.
The dress and all comes off and you start locking the leather restraints into place. The chair has anchor points that make chaining the cuffs to the chair a simple matter.
As things lock into place, as you obey, all the worries are slipping away. You don’t have to worry about anything. He’s taken care of everything, even what you must do. All you have to do is obey, to do as you’re told, it’s so simple. Why did you even worry?
When the vibration hits you it’s startling. You hadn’t even realized you turned it on. And then there is that last padlock… The room is dark, darker still behind the blindfold. A whimper escapes around the gag as the vibrations immediately have you dripping. The final lock clicks into place, and now you wait. That’s all you can do, all you have to do, and it’s perfect…
