I arrived at Mr. D’s home on a Friday night for the weekend. I try to dress for him every time but sometimes I’m tired from the week and today was such a day. I was showered and shaven at least, so I had made an effort but I was dressed in slouchy clothes and flip flops. Some days by the time evening arrives all my energy is gone. I could barely pack a bag with clothes. I was going to an event on Sunday without Mr. D. I figured I could go home and grab clothes then if needed for Valentine’s Day. He had indicated that we would stay home and relax, so I wasn’t worried.
I greeted him and curled up next to him on the couch. “We will be going out tonight baby girl.” Murphy’s Law in full force, I was in leggings and a t-shirt. “When I tell you to, you will go into the bedroom and dress as I tell you to dress.” This was different. Where were we going? “We’ll have dinner and then you’ll dress. We’ll leave in 45 minutes and it’s an hour drive to get there.” Now I was really intrigued. What could we be doing and where could we go on a Friday night after 8pm? I was mulling this over in my mind. I had no decent shoes here! I was so unprepared.
“What are you thinking baby girl?”
“Well, what are we doing and I don’t have any decent shoes to wear for you.” I said. He thought for a minute.
“You’ll wear your red zipper dress for me and if you don’t have any shoes then you’ll just wear your flip flops. Don’t even think about wearing the red shoes.” I blushed. Damn, he knew me well. The red shoes are glossy, red, four inch stiletto, platform heels. I can barely walk in them. He usually has me crawl if I wear them for him.
We got in the car and he had worn flip flops as well so I didn’t feel out of place. I am always surprised and touched at how he takes me into consideration with everything he does. I’m more familiar with being the one who takes care of others.
He asked me, “So, where do you think we’re going?”
“A dungeon?” That’s the only place we’ve driven to that far away and in the late evening. I thought it was a good possibility.
“No, it’s not a dungeon.” I was stumped. “Tonight your life will change permanently.” I looked at him. What did that mean? I was at a complete loss. I trusted him and he was being mysterious so I thought, okay I’ll just hang on and he’ll tell me when he’s ready. I wondered but I didn’t have any sense of trepidation at all.
He waited a couple minutes like he was mulling it over in his mind. Quietly, he said “Tonight we’re going to get your collar.”
I looked over to him and my heart raced. I know he’d mentioned collaring me in the heat of the moment not too long ago but otherwise we hadn’t talked about it at all for a long time.
“When I mentioned it the other night, I thought maybe you hadn’t noticed but you did. You definitely caught it.” He said. I remembered then that I’d written about it. I had most definitely caught it. When you hear something that makes their heart pound and your breathing struggle to keep pace…yes, I not only heard but felt those words even though they were in the heat of the moment.
“We’re going to a sex shop that I found that carries them. That’s where we’re going.” So, we continued on our way. My face was flushed but my heart full. Then I was nervous. What happens next?
“What are you thinking baby girl?” Oh! He always asks that right when I’m thinking about some half-formed fear. I don’t always want to answer but I usually do.
“I was wondering what comes next.” He reassured me. Eventually, we realized we had driven far past our destination, so we had to back track and our conversation switched to the very immediate need of finding our way.
We finally arrived at the shop and when we walked in were greeted mb a gorgeous girl with caramel colored skin and a man who Daddy said was definitely gay. The girl’s name was Wicked…how fitting for a sex shop. The collars were right behind them so Daddy ushered me to the case and tried several collars on me. It felt so surreal and yet comfortable at the same time.
Only in a sex shop does no one bat an eye watching a man putting many different collars on a woman. He asked which ones I thought might work and I picked up a thick, black, leather collar with a red leather fringe. He tried it on me and it fit very well. “Nice choice baby girl. We’ll take this one.” I was a little worried about the height of it at 2-3 inches tall, almost a posture collar but not quite as severe.
As we were walking about the shop he asked me if I was happy with our choice. “I am, I’m a little worried about the thickness of it. I’m not sure if you can do everything you want to with me in it.”
“We’ll figure that out as we go,” he said, “if it’s doesn’t work we’ll get you another one.” His easy practicality assured me.
Afterwards we spent time in the shop looking at all the other fun, weird and kinky things they had. Daddy purchased two extensions for the Hitachi there as well. They have protrusions on them so that the vibrations can extend inside me in different ways depending on the attachment.
We wrapped up our visit and went home.
Photo courtesy of Picabay through Public Domain