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Binding Old and New

August 6, 2007

The last night of our trip, my Master took me to a very nice restaurant. This is something that we have done together for years – we are both passionate foodies, and we enjoy eating fabulous meals together. Neither of us wants to lose our friendly dinner conversation and chatter, so our D/s dynamic tends to take a back seat during dinner.

Not this time, though. We are seated at a table along a wall, me on the banquette, him at the chair across the wide, wide table. He holds a black something in his hands, then passes it across the table to me. It’s folded so neatly I think momentarily that it’s a rectangular black jewelry box, but when I take it in my hands he says “Tie your legs together under the table,” and I realize that it’s one of his favorite cloth bondage ties.

I blush. I look around at all the people in the restaurant. Then I lean down under the table and tie the black cloth around my ankles. I feel much more submissive, and it almost makes up for the distance between us across the table. We realize that in every meal we have eaten together so far this trip, we have been seated in lovely little corner tables, or kitty corner across a table, and neither of us knows quite what to do with the huge void between us across this big, big table. When my Master comes over to my side of the table to peruse the wine list with me, a sympathetic waiter resets our table so that we can sit together on one side of the table, and that just feels so much better.

We place our orders, chat with the waiter and the sommelier and each other, and through it all, I can feel that black cloth tie binding my ankles together. And it is the perfect blend of old us and new us. Every time I try to change position, cross my legs, stretch, there is that reminder of my submission. A reminder of who I am, who he is, who we are together.

Off and on through our meal I wonder if anyone can see me, bound like this. We have been checking out other women’s shoes under their tables – perhaps they are doing the same? Our table does have a very thick pedestal leg in the center, however, and I suspect my legs were safely hidden. Still, the two tables on either side of us are the last two tables they seat in the entire restaurant, so who knows?

We finish dessert, take a last nibble on petit-fours, and then he reaches under the table and unties me. And although my legs are free, I am still bound to him, inextricably.

2 comments

  1. wow, that is so simple, yet so HOT. I hope you dont mind but i would like to use that in the next story i write for Sir as it is just so erotic


  2. You’re welcome to it – I’ve certainly borrowed inspiration from plenty of places on the net myself!



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