Inside the train

 

The journey from New York to LA for a business meeting was actually one of those tedious train rides.

I never expected this to be my first encounter with dominance and submission.

In the open-plan car, which was twice as wide as it was tall, I had foolishly reserved a seat next to a man.

As a result, the space was constricted, forcing me to look for another seat.

I had to choose between once more cramming next to the walrus or moving up to the first class because there was nothing left in the second class, which was unfortunate.

I went with option two.

The conductor led me to a first-class compartment where a tall woman in her mid-30s was sitting.

Her sheath dress was tucked into her black leather pumps, which had at least 12-centimeter heels, and it showed off her gorgeous nylon legs just below the knees.

As I walked into the compartment, her long blonde hair fell to her shoulders, and she removed her stylish glasses.

She smiled and nodded in greeting as she gave me a green-eyed look that made me feel uneasy and made me feel watched as I put my small suitcase away.

I sat down apprehensively with my tablet computer on my lap, hoping to finish the dominance article I had started at home, and I made an effort not to fix my eyes on her.

I couldn't help but slide along her noble legs when I looked down, though.

She started the conversation by asking, "Do you like taking trains?," and I wasn't really sure what to say in response.

It is necessary.

´.

I was astounded as I stared at her in shock as she said, "That's what you look like.".

You don't seem to be smiling much.

I can tell by the way you're standing.

Alternatively, do you always hunch your shoulders in that way?

I grew more annoyed by her inquisitiveness and the honesty with which she probed me.

She continued, "Body language says a lot about a person.".

Oh yes?

What does mine say about me?' Now that she had piqued my interest, I was interested in learning more about the blonde foreign beauty who was seated in front of me, bolt upright with her legs crossed.

In addition, I had a chance to take a closer look at them during the conversation, and I was really pleased with what I saw.

She stared at me with her green eyes for what felt like an eternity of minutes as I underwent the examination.

After setting her glasses aside and taking a hand to her hair, she started by saying:.

Your outfits are so well-coordinated because you have style and value aesthetics, otherwise.

You have money as well, but keep it a secret.

I can tell from your custom-made suit.

You can use it to become wealthy, advance professionally, or start your own company.

You only need to take care of yourself because you don't have a wife," she says, pointing to the missing wedding band.

Even though your friends are not aware of your secret, you are not alone.

'.

I became red in the face, but I was still extremely hot.

I questioned, perplexed, "Are you psychic?".

She laughed, switching legs coquettishly, and cocking her head back.

no.

Just a wise observer and seasoned dominatrix.

´.

boom.

She described it as a position comparable to a purchasing manager, HR consultant, or real estate agent.

I was clearly very red at this point.

The blonde woman insisted, despite my best efforts to convince her otherwise.

"The blush on your face tells me that you are interested in my position, and you have probably already dealt with dominance and devotion in line with that.".

'.

I instinctively tightened my grip on my tablet, as if she could look inside and see all of my Mistress-Slave videos, BDSM images, and articles on addressing slavery.

I've been fascinated by the subject for a very long time, and lately, the idea of a role-playing game between mistress and slave has been wildly circling in my head.

She grinned when she saw my fists clenched.

There is nothing to be embarrassed about.

How frequently men from the upper classes show up in my studio would astound you.

After that, she gave me a long look and a warm smile before saying:.

However, I don't usually run into these men on the train.

So take advantage of this chance to ask me anything you've been meaning to.

I had no chance to defend myself because it felt like she was staring right into my soul.

She knew I was there.

She was aware that I was a novice slave, a sub, and a submissive who was haplessly looking for a place in the world.

A barrage of questions raced through my mind: Should I approach this strange dominatrix here?

Is this a sign of fate?

What if she laughed at me?

Would it even matter?

I didn't know her and would get off here and never see her again.

Shouldn't I take advantage of the chance that 'accidentally' presented itself here to learn more?

In spite of my long-standing interest in the subject, I was at a loss for how to move forward.

There was an experienced dominatrix here who might be able to help me, but everything was just theory to me and I lacked any real-world experience.

The attractive blonde dominatrix filled both of the plastic cups after setting two of them on the table and pulling a piccolo from her pocket in the interim.

She then gave me a cup and we exchanged glasses.

I attempted a smile, to which she responded, "Bottom up! Here's to an exciting train ride!".

I collected myself and began to speak.

I admitted to her that I was a novice slave with little prior experience in the SM.

I admitted to you that the thought of playing the role of mistress and slave aroused me, and images of slaves who were chained up and strong women kept popping up in my head.

She questioned me about what BDSM meant to me, but despite my extensive reading on the subject, I was stumped.

I find a woman's power to be enticing, without a doubt.

She controls me when she has me in her hands.

I made an effort to explain myself, both physically and mentally.

Are you submissive?

she inquired.

'Submissive.

Is obeying orders from others considered being submissive?

Definitely not.

In contrast, I have a lot of professional responsibilities and am in charge of managing staff.

I doubt I'm weak in the least.

But according to what I've read, men in management roles frequently go to a dominatrix to relinquish control there.

Maybe I'm the one who has a similar issue.

'.

She asked, peering once more into the depths of my soul, "Do you mean?" Suddenly, I felt her shoe touch my leg.

When she ran her delicate fingers down the length of her nylon pantyhose, I realized it was intentional, even though at first I thought it was an accident.

What did she expect, what did she want, should I run away?

I'll be honest; I have no idea.

I stumbled, desperate for an answer and also unsure of what to say, "I've never tried it.".

She was curious about my desire, "here and now," she added, and I swallowed.

Somehow I had always pictured a dark place at night and not a brightly lit train during the day, but here I was, right now, on the train.

She took her pumps off and placed her nylon foot in my lap.

Against my will, the conversation's earlier stimulation of my semi-rigid penis made it rigidly hard.

She had to feel it, but she left her foot in place and declared in a firm tone that would not permit contradiction:.

She said, "Massage my feet!" At that point, she slid the other foot onto my lap, her dress slid up even more, and I gently removed her shoe and started massaging her feet while circling her toes and the soles of her feet.

She closed her eyes as she enjoyed the touch, and I enjoyed the excitement I felt.

She rephrased her question while her eyes were closed:.

What are you willing to try?

I blurted out, a little out of breath, "Tied up having to please a dominatrix.".

The conductor entered at that precise moment, checked the tickets, and while I was in a panic, she assuredly put her feet up on my lap.

As the conductor closed the compartment behind her and pulled the curtains on the glass doors shut, she said, "Now we've got 35 minutes until he comes back," looking at her watch.

I exhaled deeply.

Mine alternated back and forth between excitement and fear.

She stretched out her legs, positioned them on the bench next to mine, and pushed her butt up to the edge so I could see her paradise. She was dressed in top-stitching stockings rather than pantyhose. She didn't have panties on.

"Slave newbies, this is your chance.

It was politely untied, and I naturally anticipated what she would say next.

However, I winced when she commanded sternly: "Take off your tie.".

My focus had now shifted to obeying orders, so I walked in front of my dominatrix Knee without considering how dirty the floor was, that my pants would get dirty afterward, and that I would arrive at the meeting wearing dirty pants.

Her experience was evident as she quickly leaned forward and skillfully handcuffed my hands behind my back.

I then moved in the direction of the heavenly paradise as she sat back and made a seductive gesture to me. I got lost in erotic pleasure as she vigorously pressed my head against her lap. She continued to yell at me to speed up or slow down, pressed me up against her until I occasionally had trouble breathing, and used me as she saw fit.

She came three times in that half-hour, and despite washing the juice from my face later, I continued to smell like lust the rest of the day.

She had left when I returned.

After she released me from the tie, she said: which confirmed what I had already suspected.

As the saying goes, "Devotion is not wanting more than the lady gives you.". '.