This story started as a snippet from my drafts long ago.  Thanks to JamesXMorgan’s interest in the story, we’ve co-created the beginning of Delilah’s adventures with Master Graham.  You can find the post here on my blog, and on James’ blog Tall Tales.

If you missed Part 1, originally named A Tantalizing Opportunity, you can find Delilah’s Adventures with Master Graham: Intro on my blog here and on James’ blog here.

Delilah waited a bit anxiously for the message with Graham’s phone number and the address for the club. By Monday, she was a bit annoyed. How am I supposed to meet him, she thought, if he doesn’t send me the address? Good grief. She checked her messages, and spam, one more time.

But then she took a breath and reminded herself that if she didn’t get it by Wednesday morning, she would message him and ask him for it. “It’s a business appointment,” she thought, “not a date. This is not a big deal.”

But Tuesday morning, there was still nothing from Graham.  She began mentally composing her message.  

Dear Graham,

I thought you were going to send me the address. 

I need the address if I’m going to meet you.

If you don’t mind, would you please send me the address?

She laughed.  She didn’t know which one of those was worse, whiny, demanding, or begging.  It would have to wait.  

But she played with different ways to approach it even as she worked. So it was a great relief to see the new message pop up at lunchtime.

Dear Delilah

As promised please find attached a map extract with the address of the club; parking is available close by. 

If you have any questions or difficulties, please don’t hesitate to call me on 192-555-0176. 

I will be waiting for you at 7.30 pm. Please don’t be late. 

Respectfully 

Graham

She smiled as she read the message.  The phrase “As promised,” felt reassuring, and she appreciated the map.  Encouraging her to call if she had any difficulty also felt good.  Delilah had a terrible sense of direction, and even with mapquest on her phone and his map extract, she could still get turned around.  Or – no – she stopped herself before she began the litany of things that could go wrong.

But the last paragraph – “I will be waiting for you,” that was fine and in the same tone as the rest of the note.  “Please don’t be late” – that was – it sounded like an admonition.  A warning.

She stared at her computer screen.  All that warmth of the first part, that made her feel – well, it made her feel safe.  And then, the – well, the admonition was the only way she could describe it.  She wanted to protest – she was almost never late to anything.  In fact, she was known for her tendency to show up early to any in-person events.  But of course, she thought, in fairness, he couldn’t know that.  She was glad she didn’t make a habit of being late.  At least she didn’t need to worry about that

“And what if I were late?” she thought.  “What’s he going to do, spank me?”  To her surprise, she had a quick image of him turning her over his knee, raising her skirt, and –

“Stop that,” she chided herself, trying not to notice her body softening, ignoring the sudden heat between her thighs.  

Delilah stayed busy that afternoon, and met a friend for dinner, so it wasn’t until she was getting ready for bed that she realized she had neglected to respond to the message from Graham.  She was tempted to neglect it altogether.  “After all,” she thought, it took days for his message to get here.  Why should I be worried about it.”

But with a sigh, she acknowledged that she wouldn’t be able to sleep if she left it.  Already in her silky night-dress, she opened her computer again.  

Dear Graham,

Thank you for sending this information.  I’m looking forward to meeting you – no later than 7:30, of course!

My phone number is 192-555-0135, so I won’t show up as an unknown caller if I do need to call.  Thank you again!

Warmly,

Delilah

There you go, she thought.  Good enough.  And she went to bed.

***************

After sending the message, MG sat back. He had first hesitated but then smiled before adding the exhortation. He wondered how the girl would react: affront or aflutter? What would she choose to wear: demure or …?’

The doorbell chimed, interrupting his reverie. He strode to the door and opened it to receive an expected delivery: a single white rose. 

Later that evening he smiled again as he checked his inbox before retiring: no reply, musing ‘Let’s see what tomorrow brings.’

***************

Wednesday evening, she ate a light dinner and started preparing early. She had gotten a mani-pedi over the weekend, so her nails looked good. She had also gone to her monthly waxing appointment with Belinda, so the only real grooming left to do was shaving her legs. Showered and shaved, she decided not to use the flat iron but allow her hair to air dry so it would fall in waves around her face.

She applied lotion, massaging her skin gently. She had chosen her favorite set of bra and panties. A subdued shade of purple, silky, trimmed with a touch of lace, the bra lifted her breasts nicely. The matching panties were almost a thong, “cheeky” they called them. Minimal make-up, just enough to cover any imperfections in her skin, and highlight her eyes, which she considered her best feature.

Checking herself in the mirror, she thought that she didn’t look bad for almost 50. The strappy heels she wore wrapped around her ankles and she was pleased with the look. She hated to ruin it by carrying her large bag, but she needed to take her ipad so she could take notes.

Throughout this process, she reminded herself occasionally that this was not a date. “But,” she added with a smile, “it is my first time in a BDSM club. That’s a date of sorts, no matter who I’m with!”

***************

After showering, MG dressed quickly but carefully. A casual grey suit, a crisp white shirt; no tie today. He checked his watch and smiled to himself ‘Time to go. It wouldn’t do for me to be late.’ He had enjoyed her reply: ‘of course’ she wouldn’t be late. It seemed his gamble had paid off; not upset but sufficiently piqued to comment. And confident enough to keep it light-hearted. Good girl. 

Arriving at the club he checked them both in and checked his table, greeting friends and acquaintances with his habitual mixture of courtesy and warmth. Satisfied that all was ready, he checked his watch again and stepped outside, rose in hand, expectant and, if he cared to admit it, a little excited.

***************

She arrived at 7:20.  She parked directly across the street from the building, relieved to have gotten there in plenty of time. Moving her shoulders in rhythm to the music from her reggae playlist, she was ready to wait patiently until 7:28 before she crossed the street.  

She had parked so that she could see the building, and she watched people coming and going.  It looked like any cafe from the outside, and seemed to take up about half the building.  She couldn’t tell what the entrance to the other half was. 

Some of the people going into the cafe were dressed up, but not too much.  She thought she had chosen the right outfit, and was relieved.

Others were – omg, that woman was wearing a wide collar.  A collar.  She was wearing a corset.  And a short skirt.  Very high heels. Pulling a small suitcase on wheels. Her companion held her free hand – no, not her hand, but her wrist. His hand encircled her wrist. He was tall, wearing black jeans and a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled three-quarters of the way up.  They went in the other door.

Delilah watched fascinated as people continued to trickle in.  A few people were also leaving.  The door opened from the inside and a man – oh!  A man with a white rose!!  

She barely had time to register anything else about him.  In a moment of panic, she glanced at the clock – had she missed the time?  No, whew, thank goodness, it was 7:28.  But now she needed to hurry.  

And that flash of an image – turned over his knee, his hand lifting her skirt, his hand resting on her bottom –

Pushing that away, she hurried to the street.  There wasn’t a lot of traffic so she felt comfortable jaywalking, and others had been doing the same.  As she waited for the street to clear completely, she looked him over.  He was very attractive.  Not young, thank goodness.  But he had an interesting face. Maybe a bit stern?  He looked very confident, very sure of himself.  Totally at ease, standing there with the rose.  He was wearing a suit, a casual suit, and again she was relieved about her own fashion choices.  

The street was clear and, as she stepped off the curb, she became aware of him watching her.  She moved quickly until she stepped up on the other curb, and slowed down a bit, purposefully letting him look her over.  

It took a few seconds to reach him, and she smiled as she got closer.  Feeling confident herself, she looked up at him, “Graham?  I’m Delilah.”  

‘And so you are. I am indeed Graham and delighted to meet you my dear.’

He took her hand and squeezed it gently, for just a warm second longer than necessary. He looked gently into her eyes as he offered her the rose. 

‘This is for you although it doesn’t really do you justice. Now, shall we go in?’

Delilah took the rose, his fingertips brushed her hand lightly.  “Thank you,” she said, thinking that this was really more exciting than she had expected.  He was – well, attractive.  Very attractive.

MG hid his surprise as he led the way after opening the door for her. She was older than the 30ish he had expected from the tone of her emails. Surprised, yes, but not at all disappointed. She was a good looking woman who evidently took care of herself. 45? A little more perhaps? Old enough to know her own mind? Very probably and that could only be a good thing: less chance of unfortunate misunderstandings. Good. His smile as he held her chair was as much internal as it was genuinely welcoming.

Delilah settled comfortably at the table, noticing that Graham had seated her smoothly, with more ease than she usually felt when someone held her chair.  She was very nervous and very excited – and very aware of his physical presence.  For the moment, her mind went blank, and she had to shake herself mentally before she could find the words she wanted.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to -” and she paused, she had planned to say ‘meet with me,’ but that sounded too businesslike. “- to talk with me,” she concluded the sentence.  She thought he had kind eyes, and that surprised her.  She had not expected that.

MG smiled ‘Delilah – may I call you Delilah? The pleasure is mine, I assure you. I enjoy discussing all aspects of BDSM; doing so with an intelligent and attractive person makes it rather a special occasion. Now I expect you’re a little nervous, perfectly natural, so let me reassure you: you may leave whenever you wish; we won’t do or discuss anything unless you specifically agree to; and I will stay with you all the time you are here. Is that ok?’

Delilah smiled.  She was pleased with the compliment, intelligent and attractive is always nice to hear.  “Thank you,” she said.  “I am a little nervous, so that makes me feel better.  I have a lot of questions for you.  Would you rather I get us started by telling you a bit more about the work I’m doing?  Or do you have questions for me?  Or – “ she was suddenly a bit flustered – “I guess, maybe we should order something first?”

MG smiled. He liked her honesty. 

‘Do tell me about your work, I’m fascinated, and let questions come as they arise. But, first, of course we should get something to drink. What would you like?’

“Oh – herbal tea, maybe? If they have it.”   

‘Of course. I’ll get some chamomile for you. I won’t be out of sight, ok?’

“Thank you!” Delilah watched him walk to the counter, excitement bubbling up.

‘Right then.’ said MG. He’d poured himself some sparkling water after placing Delilah’s tea carefully on the table.

‘The time has come. Just to be clear, for me all questions are ok, nothing is out of bounds. If I don’t want to answer I’ll tell you. If at any time you feel uncomfortable or want a break, you tell me. If you can’t find the words just tap three times on the table and we’ll pause or stop. Ok with that?’

“Perfect!  Do you mind if I take notes?”  Delilah pulled her ipad out of her bag and set it on the table.

‘I would be surprised, perhaps even suspicious, if you didn’t.’

MG’s answer was accompanied by a raised eyebrow. 

“Ms. Constance tells me that you are a Dominant, and a Master.  What do those terms mean to you – or what does that look like for you?”

MG smiled.

‘I’m not going to answer that question.’

Delilah had not expected that, her eyebrows went up a bit, and she looked at him with curiosity.

‘Yet.’

And she relaxed a bit.  Although she still felt very alert, as if she needed to be ready for – well, for anything.

‘First let me tell you what BDSM means. It means as many things as there are practitioners and then more to non-practitioners. The acronym often stands for Bondage Domination Sadism Masochism but may mean other things to different people. BDSM may have a sexual element or it may not. It may be physical or psychological or both. Some people would say it includes all types of ‘kink’, others would argue that consensual spanking, including consensual domestic discipline, is in a different category to BDSM. With me so far?’

“Absolutely,” Delilah said.  This fit with the reading she had done so far.  Of course, every time he said ‘spanking,’ she felt a little rush of – well – warmth, and she wondered if she were blushing.

MG smiled inwardly, and outwardly at her as he continued.

‘Good. But there is one thing that, for me, all of these dynamics must have in common. There must at the very least be mutual consent with an unarguable means of calling time out at any moment. Otherwise my view would be that the relationship were abusive.’

Delilah nodded, this all fit with what she’d heard from Ms. Constance and what she’d read.

MG continued.

‘Beyond consent, essential though that is, is trust. And this for me is the key to any successful relationship, be it vanilla or any kind of so-called ‘kink’. A submissive will not choose to submit if they do not trust the Dominant with their well-being. The same goes for any power/compliance, Top/bottom relationship. Equally a Dominant must trust their submissive to communicate their needs and limits if the relationship is to thrive. Both parties must feel safe in the relationship; comfortable that their needs and well-being will be taken into account and that their limits will not be exceeded. Anything you want to explore there at this stage?’

Delilah squirmed a bit, just a little bit.  Somehow, the words he was saying – choose to submit, compliance – suddenly her mouth was dry and she felt – anxious?  Or excited?  Or both, she didn’t know. She tried to ignore what was happening inside her and focus on Graham’s words.  She took a sip of her tea.  That helped a bit.

‘We could continue by looking at different types of BDSM or discipline dynamics or we could narrow the field a little and get back to your original question now. What do you think?’

“I think,” and she paused, trying to decide what she actually thought.  Her mind lingered on the word “discipline.”  

She was surprised to hear herself blurt out, “I’m really curious about the club.”  Her hand flew up  to cover her mouth, as if she could take those words back, but they were out there.  She stared at her tea for a moment, then cautiously looked up at him, trying to read his reaction.

MG’s features were impassive, belying his incipient excitement. Was this the opening he had hoped for?

‘Have you come here under false pretences young lady?’

“What?”  Delilah looked at him quite sharply, her whole demeanor changed.  “Under false pretenses?”  She paused, her thoughts trying to catch up with what Graham was saying.  What could he mean?

“Ohhhh.  OH!  You think I made up the idea of interviewing you so I could go to the club?”  She laughed, relieved that he didn’t understand what had happened to her as they talked.  “No, of course I didn’t.  You offered that opportunity, and I am – well, I was – excited about it.”  

She wrapped her dignity around her like it was a blanket.  “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.  Of course, I’d love to hear more about BDSM, and am very interested in hearing about your own experience of it.  I don’t have to go to the club at all.”

It occurred to her that she had really been quite rude and she blushed, saying again, “I’m so sorry.  I don’t usually speak impulsively like that. Please forgive me.”  She felt mortified that her behavior had led to this correction.

‘Please look at me.’

She raised her head.  His eyes were kind, he didn’t look angry, but she had a flash of the scene, she could envision him quite clearly, turning her over his knee, raising her skirt… 

Ignoring the sudden heat between her thighs, she pushed that vision away.  

‘Thank you for being honest; I’ve told you my feelings about trust. And I accept your apologies, thank you.’

MG’s smile was kind and open.

‘Now, of course we shall look at the club; I’ll show you around in a moment. In fact we can watch a couple of demonstrations I’ve arranged this evening. If you’d like to that is.’

“Oh, yes.  I would like that, please.”

‘Then I’d be happy to continue discussing your work as well. Would that be ok?’

“Yes, that would be perfect.  I’ve read and studied quite a lot about BDSM, but this is my first chance to talk to a real Dom, and see it in action at the club.  I really do want to hear your thoughts.”

‘Good. But I feel, sooner rather than later, we should also discuss your, shall we say, more personal interest in BDSM.’

MG’s gaze, still kind, was unwavering.