TextingA Submissive Walk Home

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. A imperceptible tremor through my body had told me I had a new text and I knew it was from Him. Silently I shifted the toe of my boot to
push open my bag and spotted the tell tale notification light. Helena was still banging on about her husband's lack of parenting skills, for some reason enthralling everyone but me, so I picked the phone up and read my message, holding it out of sight under the table.
"Call me," it said, simply.
"I am out and might be late" I quickly texted back.
The reply pinged back in a matter of seconds.
"You were told what to do."

The last half hour felt like torture. we had done Salander and Blomkvist, moaned about the schools being closed for election day and bitched about a neighbour and still they were rambling on. They all wanted coffee and the East European waitress didn't seem to be able to get the credit card machine to work properly. Silently, my stomach churned.

I turned down the offer of a lift home. I was ready to be on my own. Once out of sight I
took my phone out of my bag and dialled shakily.

"Hello..." This was the first time we had spoken and his voice was thinner, lighter, than I had expected. I felt a slight twist of disappointment, quickly followed by relief. It would
make things simpler if this didn't work.

He started to ask me about my day tomorrow, the day we were supposed to be meeting. I gave him vague answers. His tone changed.
"That tells me nothing at all. I want specifics."

As I replied to his questions I noticed my breathing change and a knot start to develop in my tummy. I felt slightly woozy and unsteady. He noticed and bombarded me
with more, telling me what he had learned about me and what he guessed that I wanted.

I stopped short. I could see my house but I couldn't go home yet, not like that. I doubled back, my breathing by now just about coming in pants.

The phone was silent.
"Go on, you know you need to," he said softly.
I clung onto the nearest lamp-post and there, one hand on my phone and one hand clinging to the cold grounding metal, I orgasmed in front of at least ten late night motorists.