Her instructions were explicit and very clear. No deviation or excuse would be tolerated. The door would open precisely at midnight, then closed again at 12:01am. If she was not presenting herself within that time-frame, entrance would not be allowed. Furthermore, the Dominant/submissive relationship they had developed would be terminated at the same time. There would be no pleas, no appeals, and no leniency.
The slushy mix of snow and rain fell from the sky in buckets. It had completely snarled Manhattan traffic, almost to the point of being a full-on rush hour gridlock, although it was nearly to midnight. As a result, the taxi was late picking her up, then late maneuvering across town. The old checker cab came to a sliding stop in front of the up-scale condo building. Sara slipped the fare and tip through the slot in the plexiglas barrier and didn’t wait for the driver to count it. By the time he realized that it was correct, he could see the back of her trench coat disappear from his view. Sara darted across the lobby and skidded to a stop in an old set of snow boots. She panted as she looked up over the elevator doors at the art-deco clock built into the wall. Its old iron hands read 11:55pm. Beyond the doors, she could hear the motor running and cables slapping against themselves. The elevator car was only two floors above the lobby, but descending.
The doors opened and a woman with a shopping cart caddie was trying to push the large, stiff wheels over the lip of the open door. Sara, reached down, interlaced her fingers into the wire mesh, and pulled the caddie out, dragging the old woman in tow. The jovial old woman giggled and smiled, then thanked Sara as she squeezed past her into the small elevator car. Sara repeatedly pressed the sixth floor button, hammering on it in desperation for the doors to close. The doors slowly labored to a close as Sara painted a false smile on her face, purely for the old woman’s benefit. With the bursa escort doors closed, the winch above the top floor started winding up the cable, hoisting the car up the shaft with a less than gentle lurch. In crowded New York City, this was the first private moment she had since leaving her apartment. The elevator car was no bigger than one of her closets, but it was perfect for her quick-change needs. She flung the trench coat off her shoulders to reveal a ratty old sweatshirt and matching baggy sweatpants.
Looking up at the old mechanical dial, the elevator car had just past the third floor and was slowly climbed upward toward the forth. She pulled the sweatshirt over her head, tussled loose what remaining snow had clung to her black hair, then hurled the shirt to the shabby carpeted floor. She was bare to the waist, wearing only a leather collar. The collar had been obscured by the bulky sweatshirt, which proved to be handy camouflage for the overly inquisitive cabbie. Sara pulled the oversized sweatpants off over her boots,, then discarded the them to the pile building on the elevator floor. The haphazard bundle was reminiscent of the stacks of clothing left behind in her apartment. But it didn’t matter – in less than five minutes she would never need them, or her shabby little apartment ever again. From this point on, all of her needs would be supplied – forever… if she made it on time. That little voice in her head, the one that supplies doubt in ample quantities shouted, Yeah, but if you don’t make it, what are you gonna do then? You’re buck naked in a building you don’t live in! You’re gonna need something to wear home for your “walk of shame!”
Sara ignored the voice. The boots she wore were those cheap, barely insulated rubber ones, the kind your grandfather probably owned. The lining was wet and it was clinging to her bare feet. She leaned into the corner of the elevator, and pried loose the right boot, then tossed bursa escort bayan it onto the pile. She looked up at the dial – it read halfway between the fifth and sixth floor. Feverishly, she started working on the left boot. She pulled and pulled. Sara nearly lost her balance as the boot slipped free. She regained her balance, hoping on one foot… unfortunately doing so just as the old elevator was slowing for its stop at the sixth floor. The sudden change in weight caused whatever sensors drove the elevator to freeze and lock the car in the elevator shaft, just shy of the sixth floor.
Standing in only in her bikini briefs, she looked up at the dial.
No… No!… Come on… You can do it!…
The winch above her reengaged and hoisted the car the remaining 5 or so inches to align with the sixth floor landing. The doors slowly opened as Sara gathered the bundle of clothes and rocketed through the open door. Opposite the elevator, there was a short table with a big vase and floral arrangement. Looking past the assortment of brightly colored flowers, she could see it was 11:58pm.
Not wasting another second, she darted down the corridor. As she turned the corner, she let loose of the clothes, flinging them into the corner slightly obstructing the emergency exit stairway. Sara satisfied that little voice by saying, There! If I screw up, I can grab the clothes, get dressed in the stairwell and slip out the back… Happy now??
She counted doors as she sprinted down the corridor like a star athlete, heading for the finish line. She found the door. Sara took five seconds to calm her breathing and settle down. Nearly ripping open her panties, she quickly pushed them down past her knees and shimmied out of them. Flicking the panties up into the air with a foot, Sara reached out and blindly caught them as her gaze was looking for some place to ditch them. Directly across the hall from her door, there was another flower arrangement. escort bursa Like a baseball short stop, she tossed them under-handed, bouncing them off the wall to land concealed by the vase.
Quickly, Sara aligned herself to the door. She spread her knees to reveal her neatly trimmed pubic hair. She positioned the tops of feet flat to the floor, exposing her soles for discipline, as she had been trained to do. She folded her arms behind her back, thumbs up, also exposing her palms for discipline. She positioned her upper body in a straight but relaxed, upright position, her thighs perpendicular to the floor. She parted her lips and breathed through her mouth to conceal her rapid breathing. Finally, she directed her eyes ahead and cleared her mind.
Finally, she was at the appointed place, at the appointed time.
Further down the corridor, past the door where she knelt, a soft chime echoed up the hall. It was no louder than an old grandfather clock, bit it clearly signaled that it was midnight. All twelve tones rolled up the corridor and into Sara’s ears. As the last chime dissipated, the door opened. A handsome, familiar man in a tailored suit and tie stepped into the corridor. She continued to gaze directly ahead, peripherally watching him circle behind her posed body. He stopped. Sara started to get an uneasy feeling, wondering if she had forgotten some positioning, some finger or toe out of alignment? She quieted her mind with a quick meditative thought of calm waters. The man continued his counterclockwise inspection, then stopped just inside her left eye’s peripheral view. A large open hand reached down, softly touched under her chin, guiding her to stand. Sara stood upright and still.
A soothing voice melted into her ear, “Welcome Sara.” In a welcoming gesture, his arm extended toward the open door. She allowed herself a brief moment to focus on the interior, illuminated in warm candlelight. With her arms still folded behind her back, Sara stepped over the threshold and inside.
He followed her inside, only a few short steps behind. He slowly closed the door, its hinges letting out a subtle creak. Softly, the latch clicked shut and secure.