I was sitting out on the Lookout Patio, overlooking one of the world’s greatest panoramas, while waiting for my lunch, when I noticed her sitting at the table next to me.She was a tiny, sexy thing, slender, long brown hair, great big eyes, with a very nice figure. And she was pouting.The waiter came over to her and asked if he could get her anything, but she declined.“I’m sorry, miss, but these tables are reserved for customers.”I looked over, and she looked even more disgruntled than before and started to gather up her things, so I spoke up. “It’s okay Chris, she’s with me. Please bring her a Diet Coke, okay?”He looked at me for a second, then nodded and left.“Would you care to share my table? You don’t even need to say anything to me, just enjoy the view. It’s one of the world’s greatest. You probably won’t see anything like it again for quite a while.” And I waved my hand around the view of the Canadian Rockies laid out before us.She looked at me, irritated. “What, do you work for the tourist bureau or somethin’?” She had a delightful Southern drawl, the kind that Hollywood often tried to imitate, but never quite made.I laughed, “No, but I love coming here. I’m actually here speaking for a conference.”“Oh, yeah? I could never do that. I hate speaking in front of a crowd. Even speaking to more than two other people makes me nervous.” She got up and moved over to my table.So, we chatted about public speaking, what it’s like, and why I like it, even though I am actually an introvert.She snorted at that. “You don’t seem like an introvert.”“I hide it well. Actually, a lot of people on stage, like actors, are introverts, and very shy at heart. There are a lot of people like me, introverts masquerading as extroverts.”She had crossed one shapely bare knee over the other, and was starting to swing it up and down. I had already noticed her legs – it was hard not to in the really short denim cut-offs she was wearing – but now it was as if she were advertising them. I took that as a good sign.Just then, Chris brought my lunch and her Diet Coke. I thanked him and asked her if she’d like something. She thought for a moment, then ordered a Rueben sandwich, fries, and some sweet iced tea. I smiled at Chris, and asked if he could hurry the order. He smiled back, winked at me, and said he’d see what he could do.“Friend of yours?” she asked.I laughed, “No, I just met him for the first time today. But being in a service industry myself, I try to pay attention to service workers, and treat them the way I’d like to be treated.”She looked at me sideways under her brows with a bit of a smile. “That’s nice. I used to wait tables when I was working my way through college.“So, Mr. Introvert…”“James.”“So, Mr. Jim…what do you do for fun?”Now, she was flirting with me. Even better! “James, not Jim, please. I write erotic stories.”Her head came up, “What, like whips and slaves and stuff?”“Well, I have written about slaves, including the true story of a friend of mine who was a – willing – sex slave, but I’m not into whips much.”“Get off! You do not Esenyurt escort bayan know a real-life sex slave!”“Cross my heart. Well, I know her online…”“Okay, she’s selling you a line.”I shook my head, “No, she actually was one. I’ve written extensively about her life, everything she says checks out, and it all hangs together. I believe her absolutely. She’s a neat person. You’d like her. Oh, and she likes girls almost as much as guys. I think she’d really like someone sexy like you!”She smiled at me and swung her leg even higher, “You think I’m sexy?”I laughed again, “I think you’re a terrible flirt – and yes, I do think you’re sexy.”She looked at me sideways again, with that slow, coquettish smile, paused a while, then said, “So, what do you write about when you’re not telling the life story of a sex slave?”“She’s much more than that, but anyway, my main kink is BDSM.” And I waited.“Okay, I’ve read about that a bit, but I’m not really sure…what does BDSM mean?”And that led to a discussion of the various kinks that lived under the BDSM rubric, including my favorite, Dominance and submission. I happily explored that ground for her – and noticed that her nipples were getting quite prominent under her tight, pink t-shirt. Better and better!Chris brought her lunch, and we continued our conversation, with me recounting some of the things I’d written, and her asking question after question about the various kinks I’d explored, both in real life, and in my writing.We’d both finished our lunch, I’d signaled Chris for the bill, paid it for both of us, then I thought it was about time to steer the conversation in another direction.“I’m guessing someone stood you up. Is that why you were so annoyed?”Her face immediately clouded over, and she uncrossed her legs, putting both feet flat on the ground and leaning forward. “No. Well, yes and no. My friend Melissa and I have talked about coming to Canada for a long time. It’s such a beautiful country that I’ve heard so much about that I’ve always wanted to visit here. So, Mel and I finally decided it would make a great place for a hiking vacation. But when we got here, she met a guy, and suddenly I’m dog meat! She dumped me, and instead of enjoying this…” she waved her arm at the view, “…she’s fucking this asshole upstairs!”She looked down at her feet. “There’s no way I’m going hiking in the outback alone. And this damn hotel is too expensive for me to stay here the whole vacation.” The pout returned.I looked at her and chuckled. “You’re going to think this is a line, but my conference is finished, and while I would normally be flying back home to Toronto, I decided to stay for a week and do some hiking myself. As I said, this is one of my favourite places to visit. Can I show you some of the sights? Typical Canadian courtesy is all. Eh?”She looked up at me and laughed. “Well, shucks, if that is a line, it’s a damn good one.” She paused. “If we did…could you maybe tell me some more about this Dom stuff?” And she looked down and blushed.I waited a Escort Etiler beat, and tossed a coin in my head. It came up exactly the way I wanted it to.“Sure, but can I ask a personal question?”She looked up, hesitated, then said, “Uh-huh.”“Are your panties wet?”She looked up quickly, startled, and blushed even deeper, then dropped her head again so that her hair cascaded around her face, concealing it, then said, very quietly, “Yes.”I waited a moment, then stood up and held out my hand. “Come with me,” I said in a firm voice, the one I use when I’m making an important point from the stage.She looked up at me for a moment, then stood, and took my hand. Sara had already checked out of her hotel room, and had left her luggage with the porter. We collected it, and I carried her suitcase as we made our way to my suite.As I wanted room to spread out my hiking and camping gear, I’d upgraded myself to a mini-suite at the Banff Springs Hotel, rather than the standard room the conference had reserved for me, so there was no problem finding a place for her stuff.We put it down just inside the door to the hallway, then I led her into the living room.“Stand here,” I said, pointing to a spot in the middle of the room, while I went and sat on one of the wing chairs, facing her.She stood where I had pointed, looking down, face flushed, fidgeting her hands and looking bashful – and quite adorable.“Before we start, I need to make a couple of things clear. First, this is completely consensual. If, at any time, you do not want to continue, you must let me know, and we will stop. I’d like you to say ‘red light’ if you reach that point, okay?”She nodded while continuing to stare at the carpet.“If you want to slow down, discuss what’s happening, or just take a breather, you say, ‘yellow light.’ And if I ask if you’re okay, and you want to keep going, you say, ‘green light.’ These are the traditional, and simplest, forms of safe words. Do you understand?”She nodded.“And will you use these safe words if you need to?”She turned on her ankles, back and forth, then said, “But I trust you. Why do I need them?” She looked up with a mischievous smile and said, “Or maybe I shouldn’t trust you…”I looked at her. “That’s something you’ll need to decide, but you must use these words, or else we can’t play. And that’s what this is: play. I’m not going to lock you in my dungeon and torture you. At least, not yet – that takes a lot more trust, and we don’t have that. But I do need to be able to trust you to tell me if you’ve had enough, not because you can’t trust me, but because I can’t read your mind. Only you know what you’re feeling, and whether it’s too much. Understand?”“I guess…”I sighed. “Okay, let’s start and see how it goes. I may decide not to have you as my submissive if I can’t trust you to tell me, but let’s try.“Now, subject to your safe words, are you willing to give control of your body to me, to let me use it for our mutual pleasure? Do you promise to do whatever I tell you?”Still turning back and forth, she Eyüp escort looked at me coquettishly and said, “Anything? Like, take my clothes off, ‘n stuff?”“And stuff,” I replied, “but definitely take your clothes off. In fact, let’s start there.”I stood up and walked over to her. “Clasp your hands behind your back.”She gingerly did as I instructed. I took hold of the hem of her pink t-shirt with both hands, and slowly lifted it up, gradually revealing her midriff, then the bottom of her tits, then, with a little tug, her bra-less nipples bounced free. When I got it up to her armpits, I lifted the collar up and over her head, leaving the shirt tucked under her arms in front, but with the bottom hem now around the back of her shoulders. I pulled her long hair up and free of the t-shirt, allowing it to trail down her back again. I stopped when the bottom hem was about halfway down her shoulder blades.The t-shirt was now pinning her arms together above her elbows, which secured her hands behind her. She could, if she wanted, wrestle them free, but the effect was more psychological than real: her hands were bound behind her, her tits were exposed, and I could do whatever I wanted with them.I let my hands trail down her collar bone, between, but not touching, her tits, and come to rest at the button to her cutoffs.“Last chance to chicken out. Do you want me to take your shorts and panties off?”She swallowed, then nodded.“No, you have to say it.”“Yes,” she whispered.“You have to beg me. ‘Please take off my shorts and panties.’”She swallowed again, then said in a low voice, “Please take off my shorts and panties.”“Louder.”“Please take off my shorts and panties!”“You want me to be able to see your tits and cunt, and do whatever I want with them?”She nodded again.“Say it.” She gulped, and said, “I want you to be able to see my tits and…and…cunt, and do whatever you want with them.”“Beg me.”“P…please.”“Please do whatever you want with my tits and cunt, Master.”She stopped. I waited.“Please…”“Louder!”“Please do whatever you want with my tits and cunt…um, Master.”I put my hands on the button at the top of her cutoff’s zipper, and as slowly as I could unbuttoned it. I ran one finger from each hand all around inside her shorts and panties until they met at the back, then ran them back again, easing both down just a little bit, just enough so she could feel they were lower.Then I returned to the zipper, and as slowly as I could, pulled it down, then pushed the two sides wide open. Leaving her panties where they were, I eased the shorts down as slowly as I could, smoothing my palms along the outsides of her legs while holding the shorts so they didn’t just drop to the floor, until my hands reached her knees.“Spread your legs wide enough that they hold your shorts up tight.”She worked her legs apart until her shorts were tight, forming a bridge between her legs.I stepped back and looked at her panties. “My goodness, your panties look wet. Do your panties feel wet to you, Sara?”She nodded.“Out loud, please. Do your panties feel wet to you?”“Yes.”“Yes, what?”“Yes, my panties feel wet.”“My panties feel wet…?”“Um…Master?”“Yes. Tell me, do good little girls get wet panties from tales of slaves and whips and stuff?”She shook her head.“Out loud, please.”“No, good little girls don’t get wet panties from tales of slave and whips ‘n stuff.”