by Emma York
I walked out of the bedroom and closed the door behind me, smiling to myself. Easy. I was back on track.
She appeared just in time, stepping out and nodding, clearly wanting to speak but deciding obeying me was more important.
“Take this,” I said, passing her the parcel. “It’s a phone. This morning, I’m going to test how submissive you can be. You will eat alone but I will be watching. You will receive text messages from me. They will contain instructions. You will follow them to the letter. I will know if you do not. Is that clear?”
She nodded slowly before tearing open the parcel.
“It’s already charged and will take and receive messages only from my phone. Let’s go.”
I walked out, making sure to lock the door behind us, before crossing to the lift. Once we were inside, I moved towards her, seeing that flash of fear in her eyes that I’d seen last night, the fear of what she was feeling, the fear of enjoying submitting to me.
“This will be scary,” I said. “But it will be worth it.”
I said nothing else until we emerged into reception, the place just starting to come to life.
I could tell she was nervous, wondering if people were looking at her collar. I enjoyed seeing her that way, it meant that mentally she was clinging to me for reassurance, just the way things were meant to go.
I walked with her out of the building and over the river towards the Minster. On the corner of the pedestrianised streets there was a cafe that was just perfect for what I had planned.
“Go in there and be sure to take a window seat,” I said, pointing over the road.
I watched her go before retreating to the nearby bench. From where I was sat, I could see her perfectly as she went inside and took the table in the corner, sitting looking out, glancing at me and then jerking her head away, as if ashamed at being caught looking.
Around me the city was waking up. I could hear the thrum of traffic in the surrounding streets but here it was still quite quiet. People were heading to work, students on their way to university, the first of the day’s tourists gathering over by the Minster, taking photos of the stonework.
How many of them would notice what I was about to do? How many voyeurs amongst them? How many secret exhibitionists who would love to be brave enough to do what she was about to do?
But then, was she brave enough? I’d soon find out as would she. This would tell her things about herself, about how submissive she was willing to be.
The answers in the questionnaire gave me a clue, hidden within the wording. Time to test it out.
I texted.
Order a coffee and croissants.
Then I waited, watching as she picked up the phone and examined it. A few seconds later, a waitress appeared and though I couldn’t hear the words, I could somehow tell she was doing exactly what I said. That was a good start.
A minute after the waitress left her, I texted again.
Undo the top button of your blouse.
I looked at her closely as she read it and then frowned. She glanced up, looking out at me. I nodded slowly.
She put the phone down on her table, reaching up to her blouse and using fingers of both hands to undo the top button. A hint of neck came into view. I looked further into the cafe and could see the waitress was bringing the coffee to her. Just as it arrived, I texted again.
Undo the second and third buttons.
She looked out at me again and although the fear was still there in her face, I saw something else. I was right about the questionnaire. There was an exhibitionist hidden inside her. It just needed the command to be allowed out.
She slowly undid the second button, but only after the waitress had walked away, leaving the coffee with her. When the third button was undone, she paused. For a moment I thought she was going to do it straight back up. I held my breath but relaxed when she put her hands around the mug instead, lifting it to her lips and taking a sip.
Three buttons undone, her cleavage exposed. Anyone passing by the window would see, would judge, would have no idea she was only doing it because I was telling her to.
Undo the fourth button.
This time she barely hesitated, the thin veneer of modesty pushed aside in her excitement. She undid just in time as the waitress brought her food. She nodded, thanked her, then began to eat. I watched for a moment, enjoying the sight of her chest, the top swell of her boobs visible in the morning light, her blouse falling open.
Go to the bathroom. Remove your bra and panties. Return to your seat. Leave four buttons undone.
That was a much stronger command but already I was sure she would obey. She had proved that. As soon as she received the message, she stood up, walking out of sight. I waited, tapping my foot impatiently as a pigeon hopped past, pecking at a few crumbs as it went.
When she returned to her seat, I sighed with relief. Even sure as I was, part of me thought she might leave instead, vanish into the morning. But there she was, blouse open, the bra no longer visible. In fact, if another button was undone, her nipples would be on show. She was displaying far more than could be seen as accidental.
The voyeur in me seemed perfectly matched with the exhibitionist in her, just as her submissive nature was a perfect match for my need to dominate. I wanted to fuck her again, the urge coming from the sight of her displaying her chest so blatantly for anyone to see. A man in a suit strolled past, doing a double take as he happened to look in through the window.
“Just keep walking,” I said quietly as he paused in place.
He moved on. I watched as Rosa ate and drank, acting as if she wasn’t on the verge of flashing the entire world.
I waited until she was done eating before sending the next message.
Undo the remaining buttons. Sit perfectly still facing the window. Count to fifteen. Only then are you permitted to put on your jacket and leave. I will be waiting outside.
Would she do it? I felt so powerful in that moment, all doubt left me. Of course she would, I had told her to.
She did.
It took her several seconds to work up the courage but then her hands went to the blouse, slowly undoing it. The two sides fell free as she shuffled in her seat to face the window. If the man had walked past at that moment, he’d have seen much more than just the top of her boobs.
Anyone might look in. The thought made me stand up and start to walk over. I counted silently in my head. Three, four, five.
As I crossed the street, a group of tourists walked by, one of them looking in and seeing her. I could see why he was pointing so eagerly, talking to the others in a Slavic language I didn’t recognise.
Sitting like that, each side of the blouse was hanging down towards the ground but her nipples were clearly visible. Her face was bright red and she was staring pointedly into the distance, her mouth moving. She was counting too.
Nine, ten, eleven.
One of the group outside reached for his phone but I got to it before he could take a photo, snatching it from him and throwing it to the ground, stamping on it as the group turned to look at me.
“What the hell?” he said in a thick accent.
“Here,” I replied, passing him a few notes from my wallet. “Go get a new one.”
He looked at me but decided quickly not to take me on, snatching the money and walking away.
I looked back at the window but Rosa was gone. The door to the cafe opened and there she was, jacket zipped up tightly across her chest.
I could tell she was desperate to say something but she didn’t speak. She just stood there, looking nervously across at me.
“Come on,” I said. “We’re going shopping.”
THIRTEEN - ROSA
I had never felt so alive. It was an utterly unexpected feeling, like someone had cut a hole in the ice and I’d plunged into the water underneath, coming up freezing but with every nerve ending awake.
The tension I felt in the cafe had been nothing compared to the pride I’d felt in following his i
nstructions, overcoming my fear, mastering the anxiety that had threatened to swamp me when I first walked in there.
I’d had no idea what he had planned for me. I woke up to find him in my room and before I could articulate the start of a question about the previous night, he was giving me orders, the first of which was that I could not speak.
That made things easier. Being unable to get across my fears meant I could pretend I had none, though I soon developed new fears as we travelled down in the lift together.
I worried what people would think of the collar. But no one even seemed to notice. If they did, they said nothing. I had a couple of glances but that was it. By the time we reached the cafe, I had realised that the person most worried about it was me.
By then I was glad of it, a definite marker that I belonged to him. Yes, I am the billionaire’s pet, me, little Rosa Harper, about three pound fifty in her purse and a handbag that’s falling apart. I’m his.
Sitting in the cafe, I could see him outside and I found myself admiring him. The fears of the previous night seemed to have faded, daylight making them smaller, less significant. He still wanted to spend time with me, that much was obvious. I hadn’t been sent home, told to walk away and never come back.
He looked at me and I looked away. Why was he having such an effect on me? Was it the money? The way he looked? Or was it maybe that I liked obeying him? He had told me this outing was to test how submissive I was but I could only wait to see what he meant by that.
The phone felt like a living thing, sitting on the table in front of me, silent sentinel of my anxiety, saying nothing, just watching me. I wanted it to come to life, get this awful pause over with, help me know what was going to happen. I jumped when it beeped, I had been so busy being worried.
Order a coffee and croissants.
Fine by me. I liked both. If that was the level of submission needed, I could relax.
I called the waitress over and gave her the order, doing my best to smile as I did so. “I like your necklace,” she said, nodding down at the collar. “I’ve got a choker just like that one.”
Not like this one, I thought, an image of him leading me through the office on the chain making me smile to myself.
My smile faded when the next message came through.
Undo the top button of your blouse.
Seven words but so much contained within them. Reading the sentence made my heart thud, my toes curling in my shoes. Right away my mind went into conflict with itself.
The tiny exhibitionist in me wanted to do it, the same part of me that wanted to pull the curtains back a little when I was getting changed in a clothes shop, the same part that sometimes went without a bra, that hadn’t minded my blouse getting wet on the day I’d lost my job, a day that seemed like it had taken place many years ago, so much had happened since then, none of it expected.
But the respectable woman I was wanted nothing to do with such a command. It was an appalling idea, to reveal my body like that, to obey a command that would titillate passers-by, make the waitress frown when she came back with my coffee.
I looked out at him. Maybe he didn’t mean it. Maybe he’d sent the wrong thing. He met my gaze, nodding slowly as he did so. He meant it then.
It was a command. I had no choice. That made it easier to do. My heart was still racing as I reached for the top of my blouse but I also felt like I was waking up from a long sleep, like this was something I was meant to do.
I kept my face neutral, glancing around the half empty cafe to check no one was looking. Then I did it.
Quickly, without taking a breath. I flicked the button undone, whipping my hand back under the table a second later. It was only one button. You could hardly see anything. It was just like I would do if it was hot at home. No one there would comment on such things. I wore less at the swimming pool and I didn’t care who saw that. I was fine.
The waitress didn’t even notice when she came back with my coffee.
“Croissants are in the oven,” she said. “Won’t be long.”
I nodded my thanks to her, wondering if he would text again, what he might ask me to do next. I found out a second later.
Undo the second and third buttons.
My heart, so recently slowing down, began pounding in my chest again. That was going too far, wasn’t it? But he had commanded me. I had to obey.
I undid the second button, feeling myself more exposed than before. I refused to glance down as I undid the next button, looking steadfastly forwards, not wanting to lose my nerve. I didn’t know how much was visible but I felt sure it was too much. But people might see you, I thought.
Good, the exhibitionist in me replied, feeling a swelling inside me, a tingling warmth that started to spread through me, swallowing up my anxiety as it went.
I sipped at my coffee and waited but I didn’t have to wait long. Almost at once another message came through.
Undo the fourth button.
I obeyed straight away, wanting to please him, wanting the world to see but scared at the same time. Like I was on stage but not sure how the audience was going to react to what they saw. I could only wait and see.
The croissants appeared and as the waitress placed them on the table, I saw her eyes flash across to my chest. She said nothing, social etiquette dictating she not make a scene. That made my life easier. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to handle being thrown out.
I finished the first croissant, eating slowly, overcoming the knot in my stomach, forcing my heart to slow down, acting for all the world as if this was my normal way of looking. No one in the cafe had looked my way yet but it was only a matter of time.
He texted again. I had to go to the bathroom and remove my bra and panties. That was a whole new world of anxiety for me. It was one thing to sit like this with my bra on show but to do it with nothing under my blouse.
I almost refused. But then I thought about going home, about never seeing him again, about letting him down. I couldn’t do it.
I got up, crossing the floor with my arms folded, keeping the blouse closed. Once inside the tiny bathroom, I reached up under my skirt, pulling off my panties and cramming them into my handbag. It felt exhilarating and frightening at the same time. No one would know I had taken them off but I knew, I could feel it with every movement of my body. And he would know too. That was what mattered.
Removing the bra was harder but I did it. I looked down at myself with it off. There were still two buttons holding my blouse together but no matter how I stood, the swell of my cleavage was clearly visible. There was no pretending it was an accident. I could only hope the people out there were like the waitress, too afraid of making a scene to say anything to me.
Let them look all they wanted. The collar said I belonged to him, not them.
Sitting back down, I continued to eat, my chest heaving as I tried to keep my breathing in control, all too aware of the people passing by the window outside, the glances in at me.
Another message. Fifteen seconds with all buttons undone. Fifteen seconds was a lifetime.
But with him telling me to do it, I had an excuse. I wasn’t being disgusting, I was only obeying commands. I did it quickly. If I thought about it, I’d get too scared.
With the last two buttons undone, the blouse fell loose, my nipples half visible as I faced the window and counted as quickly as I could.
I had only reached five when a group of people outside noticed me. Not now, I thought as they stopped, pointing in, grinning inanely at the view. Oh no, one of them’s got a phone out. He’s about to-
Then Jamie was there from nowhere and the phone was stamped underfoot. Fourteen, fifteen, I thought quickly, getting to my feet at the same time, wrapping the coat around my shoulders and zipping it up to the next. I almost ran outside, the breeze on my bare legs making me hope the wind grew no stronger. My skirt was above the knee and I had to walk carefully to avoid flashing anyone. The group was moving away as Jamie slipped my hand into his.
&nb
sp; Going shopping, he’d said. What kind of shopping, I wondered.
I found out when we walked into the shopping centre in the middle of town. He headed straight for the escalator and I knew at once what he had planned. The sides of the escalator were glass. Anyone looking up as we ascended would get a clear view of me, all too clear a view of me. Still he hadn’t said anything and I wasn’t allowed to. I could only follow him up there, holding my breath and keeping my legs clamped together.
“Go into that clothes shop,” he said when the seven year journey to the top was over. I stood panting, catching my breath as if I’d run up there. My heart was still racing as he told me exactly what to do. “Go to the corner in the far right and examine the clothes. Do not move from that spot until I tell you otherwise.
I walked away from him, trying to act calm even if I didn’t feel it. I took as long as I dared moving through the shop, feeling sure every customer was looking at me, even though there were only a few in there.
In the far corner were women’s tops and I ran my hand through the racks, looking but not seeing the different designs. They were out of my price range anyway, this wasn’t somewhere I’d ever shop normally.
I felt his hand on my shoulder a minute later. “Don’t look back,” he said. “Keep browsing.”
I froze on the spot as his hand moved up my skirt, reaching between my legs, stroking my thighs. I glanced around me but we were hidden from view pretty well, unless someone walked around the corner, of course, which they might at any moment.
I felt myself getting wetter the longer he touched me, his fingers moving closer to my clit. When he touched it, I came in just a few seconds, the feelings more intense than anything I’d ever experienced. I quivered in place, my legs shaking as he held me up. Then his hands were gone and I was left panting and alone. I turned but he was nowhere to be seen.
