I am 18 and all characters and participants must be 18 .

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When a coworker of mine first introduced you and me, it seemed innocent and simple enough - an exchange of names and pleasantries, and a little bit of small talk to round out the quick ten minute introduction. But during those ten minutes, I noticed something that most others don't - in the way you talk, the way you hold yourself, and the general demeanor that you put forth. It's no surprise that many others don't pick up on it - you're very good at hiding what's inside. But to a trained eye and ear like my own, you couldn't be more clear about what you crave.

See, you're the type of woman most wouldn't suspect - you're fierce, stubborn, determined, liberal - and you quickly rose to a prominent leadership position at your own company. You're often the one giving orders at work or making the decisions when you're with friends and family, and you're the go-to party planner in your circle - it seems you have a desire for control and organization that simply cannot be matched.

But in those ten minutes, I knew that couldn't be more wrong.

Maybe it's my personality or my charm, possibly my confidence or abrasiveness, but while chatting with you, I didn't see that confident, stubborn, feminist that everybody says you are - I saw a woman who had trouble making eye contact with me, who couldn't help but giggle somewhat nervously, who clearly yearned and craved for something more, something different - far different from her every day life.

When we parted that night, I made a decision about your future - that you're going to be my submissive, obedient, free-use slut.

Later that week, I managed to snag your phone number from my coworker. And when I texted you, it didn't surprise me that you didn't seem to question how I got your number - instead, it seemed like you were expecting it, craving it. You couldn't be obvious about it, though - you had this feminist facade you had to keep, after all. But I knew where we were heading - I made that decision long ago.

So when I called and asked you to meet up for coffee at a shop near my place to discuss a business opportunity, I knew you would gladly accept. And when I told you to wear something flattering, I got the snarky response I expected - with a tone of playfulness to it, of course.

It's now around six in the evening and I'm sitting in the coffee shop wearing my favorite suit - a navy blue one with a white, button-up, long-sleeve shirt, and a blood-red tie and brown leather shoes to complete the look. The suit is tailored to fit my muscular, 6'1" frame and broad muscles, just tight enough to show a hint of the muscles underneath. My large hand slides through my short, soft, brown hair as my blue eyes scan the scenery in front of me. I slide my hand to my rugged jaw, feeling the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow starting to form.

I open up the newspaper in front of me and take a look at the business section while I take a sip of my favorite coffee - a Caribbean blend. Served black, of course.

Respect the M4F tag. No males, even if you’re playing as a female.

I left this prompt open in a few areas, but the general idea is that you're a strong, independent woman who becomes my obedient and eager submissive. Your relation to my coworker can differ: maybe you're a friend, a cousin, a sister, or maybe you're his/her girlfriend or wife. We can discuss details beforehand or you can jump right in and pick up where my prompt left off. Be sure to provide a backstory and be detailed about your clothing.

Kinks: lingerie, heels, short dresses/skirts, BDSM, rope play, CNC, gagging, choking, impact play, orgasm control/denial, exhibitionism, D/s dynamics, oral, anal, free-use

Limits: beastiality, blood, gore, toilet stuff, being submissive