MR. H.

by Samantha Hart

  “Oh, right, wow, how does that work exactly?” I questioned, I couldn’t make sense of it. It kind of went against everything you’re taught as a girl growing up these days – we aren’t supposed to answer to a man, there isn’t meant to be superiority, and isn’t being controlled supposedly some form of abusive relationship?

  “If you are truly interested I can email you through some information tonight when you get home. I think you are a really great girl Hannah and you have all the makings of one spectacular submissive, a drop dead gorgeous one at that, please just have a read so you can make an informed decision in the future.” Mr. H said, “Even if it’s something you’re not interested in, it’s good to be educated of the real truths of bdsm relationships and not the stereotypical shit media feeds people.”

  If anyone would’ve ever told me that this is something I would even consider doing I would’ve laughed in their face, but this man absolutely captivated me, his voice alone made me shudder with excitement, when he talks I get goose bumps all over, and when he looks me dead in the eyes I can feel the warmth and wetness growing between my legs.

  “Ok.” I said, “I will have a read later, but, can we just carry on with our drinks now, Sir? This conversation is making me feel kind of nervous.”

  The deviant smirk came back on Mr. H’s face when I called him Sir,

  “Yes Miss James, finish your drink, we will talk about something else for now – what do you do aside from working at my restaurant?”

  “I’m a writer – well I try to be, it hasn’t been going very well lately. I’ve been trying to write my first novel but I’ve been stuck in a real rut since ending things with Jason.”

  “That’s no good, what genre?” He asked, tilting his head curiously.

  “I don’t even know any more if I’m honest. Romance, I thought, but I’ve been struggling for content.” I divulged, squirming in my seat, “I think my love life, or lack there-of, has set me off track. It’s hard to write authentically without many steamy real-life experiences.”

  We continued chatting about my writing for nearly half an hour, Mr. H was one of the first people who had ever shown genuine interest in my work. He was definitely the first guy that had actually listened to me when I spoke.

  “You really are an intriguing woman Miss James, I would love to know more and more about you.” Mr. H said, before adding “But, It’s getting fairly late, so perhaps I should walk you home now? We can pick this up another time, if you’d like.”

  “Oh, I would like.” And yes, it did come out as awkwardly as you would imagine.

  We started walking the 10 minute journey to my apartment. Mr. H felt like a giant of a man walking beside me, I had never felt so safe walking home at night. After a few minutes of silence we began talking about work, he asked if I had enjoyed my shift and told me how he liked to sit in on all new staff’s first shifts, that he liked seeing first-hand the type of person representing his brand. He commended me on what a great job I had done for a first day, that as a first impression I couldn’t have done better, and that I had completely captivated him from the first moment he lay eyes on me. I was more than flattered, this man seemed so far out of my league.

  When we finally arrived at my apartment Mr. H thanked me for a lovely evening, he reached over and I thought he was about to lean in to kiss me but what he did instead was something totally unexpected, he removed my hair tie and let my hair fall to my shoulders.

  “Tomorrow I would like it if, instead of this bun on the top of your head, you wore your hair in a single plait or pony tail to work. If you’re a good girl and do your reading tonight I will show you exactly why I’m asking you to do this.” He softly whispered in my ear as his lips brushed my cheek before saying goodbye.

  As I walked into my apartment my heart was racing, what did all of this mean? Dominant? Submissive? All this talk of being a good girl? My whole life I’ve always wanted to play by the rules, I thrived in an environment that had set rules and boundaries. I hated making decisions and too many choices or options gave me anxiety. So for me, for a Man, a Dominant Man to take control and make my choices for me, to set me rules and boundaries to live by… Well… That sounds kind of glorious, so stress-free…Even if it did go against what society deemed as normal.

  I poured myself a nice cold glass of wine and opened my laptop, and just as he said he would, Mr. H had already sent me an email containing links to bdsm, sub/dom and kink websites that he thought would spark an interest in me. Little did he know, but I was already frothing with excitement before I even opened the email.

  Along with the website links, Mr. H had sent through a few of his specific rules and kinks as examples of what I could expect if I were to ever agree to being his Submissive;

  Mr. H requests that I always refer to him as Mr. H or Sir, if I broke this rule without his permission I would be subjected to ten strikes on my ass and/or upper legs with a paddle/whip/crop of his choice, I would be expected to count aloud every strike.

  So I couldn’t ever call him Callan?

  Mr. H requests that I no longer call anyone except him, Sir, if I was to break this rule I would not be permitted to orgasm for an entire week, but I would still be expected to please him, in any way he wanted.

  Oh god, If I’d inadvertently called him Sir without knowing who he was, how would I be able to stop myself addressing other customers as Sir too?

  Mr. H requests that when I wear a skirt that I do not wear any panties, if he was to inspect and find I had broken that rule, I would not be permitted to wear any undergarments for any amount of time he specifies.

  Wow, and these were only a few select examples, it was clear to say I was now even more curious than I was before – if that was even possible.

  I went through each and every link, I read article after article and the more I read, the more I realised I’d probably been a closet submissive my whole life. I love to please people and make them happy, I don’t like making decisions, I prefer someone to make them for me, I never liked being in control in the bedroom, that just felt awkward as fuck to me, but when a Man took control it was powerful.

  The one and only time I had been held down and fucked hard and rough was incredible, at one point he even wrapped a hand around my throat and I came immediately. To this day, that’s probably still the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had, I had never really understood why, until now.

  I had figured it all out, I craved that vulnerable, out of control feeling, I longed for a powerful figure to have the control for me, leaving me to be free of my own mind, I craved to do good, to please people and to do what I’m told.

  But what about the rest? Could I actually handle the other aspects of a BDSM lifestyle? What if he was into things of a more sadistic nature? Mind you… I do have a really good pain threshold and I seem to kind of enjoy things that are supposed to be painful, so I began to think, maybe I could do this?

  By the time I had finished all my reading it was around 3am, my mind was still racing, full of all the possibilities and situations I could find myself in, and I was very aroused from all the sexual domination short stories I’d just finished reading.

  I reached down inside my now soaking wet panties and started to play with my clit, it felt so good to be touched after reading all about that, even it was only my hand, I closed my eyes and imagined that Mr. H had me sat in a chair at the restaurant, he tied each of my legs spread wide open to the chair legs, and he had my hands tied back behind the chair. Then I imagined he was the one rubbing my clit furiously, not stopping until I came over and over again without letting up even when I cried and begged for him to stop. It didn’t take many of those thoughts at all until I was bringing myself to orgasm.

  When I woke the next morning it was around 10am, I didn’t have work until later in the afternoon, so I wasn’t in any rush to get out of bed. I rolled over and grabbed my phone off the bedside table and saw I had three text messages;

  One from Jade,

 
‘Hey Hanns you alive this morn babe? How was your night with Mr Boss man?’

  And two were from an unsaved number,

  ‘Good Morning beautiful, I hope your bedtime reading went well. Looking forward to seeing you at work tonight, wear something a little sexy for me.’ Followed by another text, ‘P.s Don’t forget your hair.’

  ‘Wow.’ Was all I replied to Jade, there was no way I could convey my thoughts properly over a text, this was going to require face to face Jade counselling.

  I decided I didn’t need to reply to Mr. H. I did however need to go shopping for new work attire, so after much internal fighting, I dragged myself out of bed, poured a scolding hot coffee down my throat as I deliberated over whether or not to pick the mould off of the bread, before I gave up and headed for the shower. I could pick up one of those delicious new BLT bagels from the next street over.

  As I went to leave my apartment, I noticed an envelope that had been slipped underneath my door. Cautiously opening it, I found a note inside stuck to a gift card for one of the high end department stores at the newly opened mall a couple of blocks away, I hadn’t been down there there yet, I wouldn’t have even been able to afford a pair of their socks, let alone anything else.

  The note read – ‘Miss James, use this gift card to upgrade your work wardrobe, please consider what I may like to see you wearing around my restaurant, Mr. H. x’

  How did he know? How the fuck did he know I would be going shopping this morning? After a fleeting moment of confusion I decided it had to have been more of a sweet gesture than a creepy one, and I was oh so grateful that this shopping trip wasn’t going to cost me a single cent after all. So off I went, shopping with a much larger budget than I was used to.

  Walking through those fancy rotating doors immediately transports you into a different world, shiny bright white flooring startles you the moment you enter, attendants from every direction swoop in, offering to help with this and that, it is completely overwhelming for a first timer, the shops I usually attend are packed and crammed full of so much stuff that no attendants bother to greet you, let alone help.

  A lovely older woman escorted me through a cloud of perfume as we passed the cosmetic counters and headed for the clothing. She handed me over to one of the many clothing attendants scattered across the floor, and I gave my brief – classy work outfits, but with a bit of spunk, she looked at me waiting for more. “Black bottoms, white tops, black shoes.” I added, and the chipper little attendant zoomed off in search of options.

  Meeting me back at the changing rooms, she had piles off stuff, Low cut white tee shirts, long sleeve shirts, tunics, figure hugging white button up blouses, tight black pants and black Skirts, long, short and in-between, thigh high stockings, pantyhose, black pumps, heels and boots in multiple styles. This was going to take a while.

  By the time I’d eaten a very late lunch and finished all the shopping I could bare, I caught a cab home, it was time to start getting prepared for work, already, I’d certainly taken my time. Shopping definitely wasn’t my forte.

  I washed my hair, again, in attempt to wash as much of the pink colour out of it as I could, to take it back to more of an ashy blonde before drying and plaiting it as Mr. H had requested. I re-did my usual smoky eye look but kept my lips a subtle nude colour.

  Branching out slightly, I put on my most fancy red lace bra that you could almost see peeking through my white shirt, and a black tight-fitting skirt which stopped just above my knee, with nothing underneath. Mr. H seemed to enjoy the shoes from last night so I wore another pair of black high heeled ankle boots, except these ones had a little bit more height and way more sex appeal.

  I arrived at Collared at 3:45pm. “Early again, teacher’s pet!” Katie said, followed straight away with “So…how did your night with Callan go?”

  I knew she would be itching to find out the juicy gossip since she was the one who practically pushed me out the door with him last night.

  “Enlightening.” I said as I put my own apron on this time. “But how do you get away with calling him Callan?”

  I hadn’t expected to hear the reply that Katie came back with,

  “Callan and I have been friends since we started pre-school, and we pretty much grew up together because our mothers were best friends. We’ve always been really close, he is like a brother to me I suppose – we tell each other everything.”

  Everything?! I thought, surely not everything?

  “I had no idea, that’s a bit cute.” I said.

  “Don’t let him catch you calling him cute” Katie said, laughing.

  Okay, maybe she does know everything.

  The shift was going well, but I hadn’t seen Mr. H yet and it was beginning to get late. Katie was right though, I did seem to get along with the rest of the team and that made working feel more like hanging out with friends – how did I get so lucky with this job? Beth and Linda – the two chefs – were always cracking jokes when I came to deliver the orders,

  “Oh Hannah, you would like a good whipping along with this whipped cream, wouldn’t you?”

  It was funny, kind of, but it also made me wonder what they knew too, I couldn’t imagine they had been in the same position with Mr. H, in fact I wasn’t certain they had been in any position with a Mr anybody. I had a feeling they may have been in a relationship with one another. They were both attractive women and I was sure on multiple occasions I’d walked into the kitchen and felt as though I had walked in on something, they were always working very closely together with their hands on each other and I’m not going to lie – I did hope to accidently walk in on them doing something. Just so I knew I was right – that’s all… Not that I’m some perverted freak. Or was I? Probably.

  It was nearing 9:30pm and at this stage I was thinking, why the fuck would he tell me to dress up nice for him, if he wasn’t even going to see me tonight? But I carried on with work, I was sure he was just busy and got caught up. There weren’t very many people left in the restaurant by then, so Katie told me to grab a bite to eat and take a break. As soon as I sat down in a secluded booth Katie motioned for me to come back to talk to her.

  “Callan asked for you to go and see him in his office once you’ve had your dinner, ok?” She whispered.

  “Oh, so he is here? Yeah ok.”

  So he’d been here this whole time, I wondered what he wanted me for – I scoffed my food down, tidied myself up in the bathroom and knocked on Mr. H’s office door nervously.

  Chapter Three.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  “Come in Miss James. Take a seat.” He commanded as he opened the door, pointing in the direction of the black antique leather chair opposite his desk.

  In the nearly twenty four hours since I’d last seen him, I’d already forgotten how hearing his deep, controlling voice melted me, my weak legs barely carrying me to the chair before collapsing in to it.

  His office was just as dark and moody as the rest of the restaurant, there was minimal lighting, just a few sconces on deep coloured wooden panels cladding the walls. A big old chunky timber desk sat on top of a luxuriously soft black rug which covered most of the wooden floorboards.

  “Well Miss James, I’ve requested for you to come and see me as I was curious whether you completed last night’s task? Did you do your bedtime reading?”

  “Y-y-yes, I did.”

  “Judging from that response, I’m going to put a guess out there and say it’s either scared you off, or, is it that you liked it?”

  I took a few deep breaths – here we go, I thought, no point in holding back, that’s not going to get me anywhere. So I blurted it all out,

  “No I wouldn’t say it scared me, I ended up reading and reading until 3am, I found myself associating my thoughts and personality with that of a submissive, I noticed that a lot of my qualities were exactly what a dominant would be looking for in a submissive, and if I am really honest, I liked the sound of most of the things that I read about what a dominant is.”


  “You don’t know how glad I am to hear that, Hannah. I would really like to get to know you better, I know you’re a good girl who does as she is told, a very beautiful girl at that – but I do need to make sure you’re right for my world – Stand up please Miss James.”

  He motioned upwards with his pointer finger, eyes directly focussed on mine, making me feel very intensely but I couldn’t tell whether it was fear or if it was more of a deep passionate hunger, whatever it was, I’d never felt like this before – and I liked it. Mr. H walked around and stood behind me, I could feel his hand playing with my hair.

  “Well done Miss James.” He said, “Your hair is looking perfect, do you want to know why I asked you to wear it this way now?”

  I nodded.

  “I believe the right response would be, ‘Yes please Sir’ don’t you think Miss James?” He asked with a dark undertone to his voice.

  “Yes, Sir, Sorry.” I said quickly, and as I spoke I felt surges running throughout my body, calling him Sir in this context definitely made my heart race.

  He ran his hand down my hair and to the base of my plait and without warning, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and kissed my neck, my body quivered with pleasure, pain, arousal and nerves.

  “It’s much easier for me to grab and pull on your hair when it is tied up like this Miss James, how did that feel for you?”

  “My heart is beating a million beats per minute Sir.”

  “That’s perfect.” Mr. H replied, “Now there was one other request I sent you last night, a rule that isn’t in place yet but I wouldn’t mind betting you were a very good girl and followed the rule anyway, spread your legs please Miss James.”