Page 33 of Submissive Lies

-Fuck you. Bitch.-

I moved to the door, flicking the lights out. Hand on the knob, a resigned whisper pleaded with me.

-If you’re bound and determined to go through with this, Jen, be careful, okay? Please.-

It’s only dinner.

-Of course it is.-

I took a deep breath as I waited for the elevator. I felt exhilarated. It was a hundred little electrical jolts that spread through me as various thoughts flitted through my head. Considerations for all that this evening might hold, and the thrill of facing the unknown. I glimpsed myself in the mirrored wall of the elevator, and straightened slightly. How should I look at him? What tone should I take? Should I hold the handbag in front of me with both hands, wrists crossed? My imagination was kicking into high gear, reconnecting with all those submissive traits I hadn’t engaged with in a long, long time.

God it felt good.

The elevator reached the lobby floor and I stepped out. There was a small crowd near the bar, and a few groups sitting in the chairs and chaises spread about. I checked my phone one more time. There were now two Read messages. I gritted my teeth. Fuck, Thomas. Seriously? I looked at the time on the front screen. 7:20. I slipped the phone back in my bag, fingers flexing. Scanning the lobby, I looked to see if he was already here, waiting. After several searching passes of the room, it was clear he wasn’t. Sitting down in an empty chair not too close to anyone, I positioned myself so I could see the front entrance. A fluttery feeling rose and fell in my stomach, and I did my best to suppress it.

It’s only dinner…

Even as all those other thoughts continued to crawl over the ramparts in my head, I continued to recite those three words over and over. It’s only dinner…

It was my mantra. One I kept repeating right until the very moment he walked through the lobby doors.

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