First Meeting

The elevator moved pitifully slow, and the creaking and grinding added to the "charm" of the classic building that was probably built some time during the twenties. The penthouse office was all the way on the sixth floor, and aside from the cafes and shops on the first floor, most of the offices in the musty old building were empty for the weekend.

The Jones Associates suite of offices in the penthouse sounded a lot better than it looked - a wide windowless reception area, with five doors leading to a break room, a conference room, two smaller offices, and Mr. Jones' office; all kinda dinky and a little run down looking - classic, like the building. The furniture, mostly shades of brown, was probably top of the line when it was bought...back in the seventies.

When the two women walked into the reception area, Mr. Jones unfolded himself from behind the receptionist's desk. "Good morning, ladies." He came around and hugged his friend. When he walked, the tall man bent his head slightly, like he was used to ducking to avoid things. "Hey Allie." he said to the larger woman. "You're looking fine as ever." He looked at the other woman waiting for an introduction. "I take it, this is Share?"

"Yup," said Allie. "This is the one I've been telling you about. Share, this is Bob."

Share extended her hand. "Hi Mr. Jones. Nice to meet you."

"Impressive." Bob said to Allie. "She has proper manners." He didn't shake Share's outstretched hand.

"Fascinating." said Share to Allie. "He doesn't appear to have any manners at all." she dropped her hand and smiled. Obviously, this man needed to prove his domliness by being rude. This wasn't going to work at all.

Bob raised an eyebrow and looked down and the chubby woman calling herself a sub who barely came up to his shoulder. Probably just wants her hair pulled and her ass spanked, but couldn't be a real sub to save her life. He looked at Allie and shook his head. "Allie, why are you wasting my time bringing me bored housewives? You know I don't play with amateurs."

"Hold up." Allie laughed. "She offered her hand, and you left her hanging. That was pretty rude."

"I thought we were here to talk." Share said. "Do you honestly expect immediate submission from every woman you meet? Would you really want a sub that falls at everybody's feet? Talk about amateur?"

Bob smiled. "Very interesting. Cute and smart, and not a pushover. Allie, you did good." He gestured to his office. "Ladies, I've made iced tea. Shall we?"

"Wow." Share mused out loud, following Allie and Bob to the office. "Acting as if a childish test excuses rudeness, and not offering the most perfunctory apology. Strike two."

"Ok, listen." Bob said abruptly turning to Share, stepping so close she had to hold her head back to look at him. "I'm sorry if you think my behavior rude, but your bratty comments make me think you want my full attention right now. I assure you, you're not ready for it. We will talk first, and then, if we're both agreeable, you will have my full attention. Until then, we'll have tea. Do you understand?"

Share's neck hurt, and his cologne was a bit much, but she fought back that smile she always got when she won a small victory. This guy was easy. His buttons were right there on the surface. He'd probably be entertaining for a few weeks, and then fade into nothing, just like the rest of the wannabes.

"Watch your step, ladies." Bob said, as he ushered his guests into his office. He caught a whiff of Share's perfume as she brushed past him. Kinda nice, not too sweet. And that hair. Tiny locs, like braids only a lot more natural looking, falling down her back. Did she really grow all that herself?

Share almost tripped going into the office. There was a slight step up then her foot sunk nearly three inches into an unbelievably plush carpet that didn't make sense for the overall shabbiness of the room. Cheap wood paneled closets lined three walls of the office, and the window wall was draped floor to ceiling with hotel surplus curtains. Share looked around for a second and then glanced at their host and smiled. There was more to Bob Jones than she thought. First a door opened out, and a second door level with the carpet opened in. The cheap closets and plush carpets doubled as sound proofing, and the curtains would block sound and light. Leaning against a sagging couch, she wasn't surprised to feel fine leather under the threadbare afghan thrown over it.

The visit took on the air of a Saturday afternoon tea with discussions of southern cooking and parties and life in general. Bob directed Share to a seat near the center of the room. He watched her move deliberately. She wasn't going to submit to anything without negotiation. She wouldn't submit, but she would need to yield to somebody who could overcome her...out think her...see through her. This wasn't a princess at all. She was one of those...a fighter. Damn! Bob tried not to smile. This could be too much fun.

The conversation on cooking was right up Share's alley. As an excellent cook, her peach cobbler and yeast rolls got her lots of marriage proposals...even from her husband's friends. She was thoroughly absorbed when she felt Bob's hands moving through her hair. As the conversation continued, she tried not to let the touch distract her. It really wasn't that big a deal. She'd accepted more from lesser men, and she'd already won her small victory. He was interested enough to reach for her first.

"So," said Allie finally, "While y'all talk, I'm'a go next door and watch tv. Y'all got an hour, ok?"

"An hour should be plenty," Share said, standing up, brushing Bob's hands from her hair.

"Yeah." Bob said. not hiding the annoyance in his voice. "That's more than enough."

Share watched him close both doors behind her friend. She noticed he didn't lock them; not that a lock would've kept Allie out anyway, but still. Alone with the man who, with the exception of that brief snit, seemed too pleasant and gentle to be much more than somebody who shopped at Lover's Lane and hung out in kinky chat rooms, Share moved to take a seat at the right end of the couch.

"No." Bob said. "I want you to sit here." He indicted the space on his outstretched leg where he sat at the left end of the couch.

Share hesitated. "I'm not a little girl. It won't be comfortable for either of us."

Bob patted his leg.

"Okay...don't say I didn't warn you." So, he's one of those. Yeah, this is gonna be really quick. Share tried sitting on his leg. "Nope." she said, standing up. "This is way too uncomfortable. I won't hear a word you say."

"I see you're a difficult one." Bob said. "Ok, fine. Sit there." He reached out and took her hand, while she lowered herself to the couch. When she tried to pull her hand back, he held tight. "I am going to inspect you. Be still."

Share raised an eyebrow but said nothing. This was interesting. He held on just firm enough to get her attention, but not enough to be uncomfortable.

"Why are you here, Share? What do you want?"

"Excitement. I'm bored."

"Hmph. Hubby not spanking you hard enough, so you wanna play Fifty Shades, huh?"

"Wow. Fifty Shades? Really?" Share asked. "I guess Allie overestimated you." Share moved to pull her hand away. "Nice meeting you, Bob."

He pulled her hand back. "I didn't say you could move. I'm not done yet."

"I didn't ask your permission." Share said. She didn't try to pull her hand away again. A game of tug-o-war would be undignified. "But if you're thinking Fifty Shades was-"

"It was bullshit." Bob said. "Dangerous bullshit. Now, you have my attention. Tell me what kind of excitement you want, Share."

Share looked at him. He was still closely inspecting her hand, a slight smile on his face, lightly pinching the thin flesh between her fingers. "I useta be somebody's favorite toy." she said finally. "I had an owner. I was tough and could endure whatever he wanted to try. I miss that."

"Gorean?" Bob asked. "Were you a slave?"

"Um, no! Not Gorean." Share almost spat. "I'd hafta hurt somebody."

"I see. So you serve, but you don't do the fantasy role play thing; and you like pain too. Interesting."

"Wait...no. Nobody likes pain." Share said. "I mean, I can take some for the right cause. I endure it. Sometimes, I admit, it can even be...stimulating. There are a few floggers I've really loved, but I'll whoop you like a man if you come at me with a paddle...I ain't even playin'."

Bob laughed out loud. "You think so? What if I like using paddles?"

"Very firm limit. Only for a critical punishment that might otherwise call for dismissal, like if I kill your dog or slap your mother or something."

"Firm limit with training and subject to negotiation-"

"No. Not open to negotiation, and I don't need training."

Bob laughed again. "Very well, but every sub needs training."

"I don't need training in submission." Share said. "I would need instruction in your specific requirements, but I'm almost 50 years old. I know what I like and I know what I want and need."

"Whips?"

"Some, but no marks. I hafta go home clean."

"Of course. I like your hair."

Share tossed her hair. "Yes, I do have hair of awesomeness. It's all mine and very strong. You can pull it."

Bob smiled. "Good. Are you ticklish?"

"Not even a little. It actually pisses me off when people try. I hate being cussed at. And I don't kiss."

"I won't cuss at you, but when you belong to me, I will kiss you. Period. Not up for discussion."

"But-"

"No. Not up for discussion."

This gave Share pause. Kissing wasn't something she'd considered. This wasn't yielding to a superior force...a kiss, for her, would be true submission, allowing something for which she had no desire. Where she could easily submit to the hand and the lash, and likely treat herself to a fabulous ride, a kiss was more emotional than she wanted.

"I need to think about that. I'm not trying to let anybody into my heart." Share said.

"C'mon, Share. You know how this works." Bob chided. "We start out playing, and then I get in your head and you get in mine. Hearts come with the territory. That's why we have rules and limits."

"I've already got people in my head and in my heart." Share said. "I just need a good back scratcher."

"Oh really? You're just looking for a sparring partner?"

Share smirked. Here's the part where they usually got in over their heads, imagining they could break her. "It sounds really bad when you say it that way. I want a safe and sane playmate with compatible desires."

"Interesting. What turns you on? Be honest."

Share laughed. "Looking down my own shirt. I've got an awesome rack!"

Bob leaned over and looked down the front of Share's slightly open blouse. "Yup. That is pretty awesome. Seriously, though. What else turns you on?"

"I like men who are more powerful than me," Share said. "Really, that's all. If I can, in any way, make you seem weak, I can't stand you. Floggers turn me on. Pulling my hair. Showing your strength, deep voices, and control. And neat clothes. I love feeling protected and owned."

"I see." said Bob. "Do you want to be pampered?"

"I've got somebody to do that."

"Somebody to tell your troubles to?"

"Got one of those too, and I've got a whole stable of hoes to write to. They eat it up and tell me how awesome I am. I got the emotional thing covered."

They sat in silence for some time, long enough for Share to start to feel unnerved at Bob looking at her. She knew, of course, that this was the object of the exercise, and she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of showing her discomfort. After about five minutes she stood to stretch her legs.

Bob stood up from the couch and loosened his tie. "Through that door," he said, pointing to the far right corner of the room, "is a small lavatory. Go freshen up. You now have my full attention."

"Hold up," Share said, looking up at the tall man with the slightly devilish grin on his face. "I haven't agreed to anything yet."

"Neither have I." Bob said. "Do you always argue every instruction? Do you wanna be here or not?"

Share paused. He had a point. She could always leave, but she wanted to see what he had in mind. She looked at his slight smile and cringed inwardly. He had her and he knew that she knew it. "Fine." she said, heading for the powder room.

"Stop." Bob said.

Share stopped, but didn't turn round.

"Share, I asked you two questions. You answered neither. Do you need me to repeat them?"

"Fine. Repeat the questions." Share heard herself treading on thin ice, but she wasn't ready to give in just yet.

"Do you always argue instructions?" Bob's voice had dropped an octave. The light conversational tone was gone.

"Sometimes." Share said. "Depends on the instruction."

Bob moved in close behind her. So close she could feel his warmth. "Do you want to be here or not? The only positive answer is 'Yes Bob, I want to be here.' Any other sound you make will be taken as a 'No' and I will escort you to the door."

Share held back a sigh. He'd won and he knew it. Her curiosity wouldn't let her walk away and her ego wouldn't let her be so easily dismissed. "Yes, Bob." she said, adding amused condescension to her voice. "I want to be here." She didn't even look back at him.

"Listen," Bob said slowly. "Before you leave here, we'll both make some decisions. Understand this: in my service, you will pay for that tone. I have little patience for brats or bitches."

Share took a deep breath and turned to face him, not surprised that his smile was gone; but somewhat surprised that she was mildly intimidated and a bit turned on. "I understand. If I am in your service, I will mind my tone. But, 'bitch' is a hard limit. Don't summon her unless you really want to meet her." Share knew she was pushing it, but some things needed to be said up front.

When Share came out of the powder room, Bob was seated in the middle of the couch, a pillow and a short length of rope on his left side. He motioned for her to come and stand in front of him.

"Here's what's gonna happen" Bob said "I'm gonna see what you're made of, and I'm gonna show you what I'm made of."

Share looked at the rope. "I can handle restraints, but not bondage."

"You see a difference?"

"Yes." Share said. "Restraints prevent escape; cuffs, bars, open gags, stuff like that. But I freak out if I'm tied up. I can't do helpless. No shibari."

"Understood." Bob said. "Well, this isn't for that." He handed her the rope. "Hold on to that for a second. You're gonna lay across my lap for a spanking."

Share raised an eyebrow. "Um...well..."

"It's a test. Across my lap now, please."

Share hesitated. "Why can't I just lie on the couch?"

"Because, while I spank you, I will be checking to see how excited you get, and I want you to feel how excited I get."

"Oh. But I hate spankings. Not a hard limit, but definitely a firm one-"

"I will push your firm limits. You'll get excited at first. When you lay across my lap, you'll be dripping, but this one will go well past the excitement phase. It'll go so long you'll dry up. You'll safeword and I'll still keep going. You'll kick and squirm and probably reach back and try to protect yourself - that's what the rope is for, you're gonna hold the ends and wrap it around your hands so you can't do that - but I'm gonna spank you until you think you can't take it, and you're gonna feel how hard I get when you beg me to stop."

Share fidgeted from one foot to the other.

"This spanking is gonna make you cry, and when you cry and moan and move against me, I'm gonna be hard as marble and then I'm gonna slide my finger down your crack and you're gonna be burning hot and dripping wet again-"

"You don't know how much I hate spankings." Share whispered.

"No, I don't." Bob said. "But you're gonna lay across my lap and show me how tough you are and how much you can take, aren't you."

Share nodded and took position, resting her head on the pillow, wondering how she lost this battle so easily. She suppressed a shudder when she felt his finger moving over her panties.

"Just as I thought," he said. "Dripping. Don't worry. I won't be penetrating you today, but I will eventually." He pressed the black cotton fabric between her buttocks. "Here?"

"Not without a lot of prep." Share said. "And I hate it like punishment."

Bob moved his finger lower. "But the thought excites you." he laughed. "We'll work on it."

"Um, no."

Bob laughed again. "We'll go slow. See, you like having your limits pushed. You're getting wetter."

Share didn't answer.

"Wrap you hands in the rope." Bob said. "Test time."

Share ignored him until the sixth or seventh blow. His heavy hand was slow and methodical, and she concentrated on breathing as his hand landed loudly and evenly across her backside. She did get to the point where she couldn't keep count and as long as he kept up the steady rhythm, and the blows landed in a predictable pattern, Share floated on and melted into the pain; but when he abruptly changed and concentrated on one spot, the relentless pounding took her breath away...

Share stood looking up at the man who had just so brutally punished her. Yes, she had done all he said she would do and more; and when she'd moved on his lap, his erection was definitely impressive. Had she not been in a battle of wills, she might have been tempted to ask for a taste; Not that she went around blowing strangers; but that twenty minute spanking surely meant they were no longer strangers.

"You've definitely given me something to think about." Share said.

"Me too." said Bob. He reached out and brushed her hair back from her face, abruptly grabbing a handful. "I accept you into my service. You'll remember to mind your tone, and no more games, right?"

His grip on her hair and the power in his voice nearly buckled her knees. Her first instinct was to protest, but the butterflies in her stomach and the moisture between her legs told her resistance was futile. "I can only promise to try. Some things are just habits."

Bob smiled. Yeah...this would be fun.