I fingered my necklace. We wore a variety of public “collars,” in particular, the short, chained necklaces, which served as an emblem of our submission. Judith patted my back, and my good friend changed the topic of conversation to a more appropriate subject.
We didn’t divulge the details of scenes, although we did compare notes on personal preferences, balancing private and public lives, jobs, and so on. We were in full flow when he came over to our table.
Younger than me, dark hair, trim waistline, and not far off handsome in his well-ironed shirt and tie. He hooked a spare chair and parked it at our table, uninvited.
We glared at him in silence.
He leaned across our table and spoke softly. “Apologies, ladies. I don’t mean to be rude. I couldn’t help notice you’re a delightfully friendly-looking bunch of subs.” He tapped his neck.
Johnson had risen and was already halfway across the room, but at the word subs I waved him down with a flick of my hand. He hesitated, and I shook my head. He had to trust my judgement, and I didn’t think this guy was a threat.
I gave our une
xpected interloper a closer look. He settled in his chair and waited for us to assimilate his remark. His hands rested on the table, and I could see a signet ring. The emblem I recognised, a symbol of dominance.
Judith had also spotted the heavy ring. “You’ll notice then we are not free,” she snapped.
The man pursed his lips and nodded.
“Of course. I didn’t mean to imply I was seeking anything from you only”—he paused and pointed at the bar—“you see the group of boring men over there. My new work colleagues. I moved here recently from Cardiff, and this is the getting-to-know-the-lads night out. So far it’s all football, the best celebrity tits, and the biggest bum in the office. Not my scene, so to speak. I don’t see myself hanging out with these guys. So then I see you ladies. I wondered if you knew any good clubs, munches? Anything kinky, before I forget what a good time is all about.”
He leaned back in his chair, and I attempted to assess him. Genuine Dom or a horny guy with a chat-up approach bordering on unbelievable?
Judith snorted. “You’re positive we’re subs? From our necklaces? Quite a gamble, isn’t it?” Her experience showed; the other two were less forward and fidgeted.
“I was pretty sure,” he claimed, and I smirked at his arrogance. “But to make absolutely certain I strolled by earlier, dead slow, and cocked an ear at your chatter. I have to say, I don’t hear many ladies discussing waxing floggers—at least not in the pubs I go to.”
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Mark. Can I buy you a round of drinks?” He pointed at an empty glass.
“Thank you.” Judith moved her glass out of his reach. “’We’re okay. You don’t know anybody locally?”
“I lived in Manchester before Cardiff. This move was unexpected and quick. I feel slightly bereft, and I hate using chat rooms to find real Doms. You know how it is.”
“You’re unattached?” asked Zoe, and I noted she’d relaxed sufficiently to stare at him with fluttering eyelashes. He was undeniably handsome. Eva swirled the wine about her glass, her attention on Johnson, as if she expected him to leap into action.
“My last lovely sub didn’t want to move. Family and everything. Unfortunate, but we weren’t living together.” He pulled a mock pout. “You really can’t give me any useful contacts? I mean Doms. I don’t expect you to give me your details or other subs. I’m not here to pick up anyone.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “You wouldn’t get them, either. We’re not into the social side much these days. We’re all in long-term relationships—owned, you might say. I don’t mean to appear difficult, but we can’t give you contacts for our Doms. Well, I can’t.”
“Very protective Dom,” whispered Judith. “That’s her personal bodyguard glaring at you over there.”
“Jude,” I cried, frantically shaking my head.
“Really? Kind of makes my efforts at ownership somewhat pathetic. I rely on trust,” said Mark, not hiding the sarcasm well.
“He trusts me,” I blurted in defence. “Just not other men.”
“Look, sorry I’ve imposed on you, but this a big city, and I have to be opportunistic,” said Mark, slapping his thighs and making ready to stand.
“What job brought you here?” asked Eva, shuffling forward on her seat.
Mark rested his elbows on the table. “Accountancy. I am an accountant, but not a boring bookkeeper type. I do consultancy work. A job came up I couldn’t afford to miss, so I upped sticks and moved here. I really would like to find some decent friends. Indecent ones, too.” He grinned, showing pearly-white teeth.
“Which accountancy firm?” I asked.
“It’s a medium-sized but prestigious one, hence the quick move. Gliech Ltd. Heard of it?”