by Magister Amentia
After opening the door, the smell of coffee filled Miranda’s nose and reassured her a little. It was her usual coffee shop, where Miranda always ordered her coffee every morning, even if it was just black since she had kicked off sugar months ago.
It was the perfect spot for tonight. It made her feel safe, an open place with people she knew, to meet a new person who might or might not turn out to be a serial killer.
The cashier was surprised to see her. It wasn’t normal to see her so late. Miranda smiled at her. “The usual?” She asked, pulling out a cardboard cup, sharpie ready.
“Yes, please,” Miranda looked over her shoulder.
“It’s rare to see you at this hour,” her companion remarked.
“I have a date today,” she forced a shy smile, “A friend from work set me up with an acquaintance.”
“Good luck” the girl behind the counter winked and handed her back her change.
“Miranda!” The barista handed her the cup of coffee and she sat down to wait by the window.
The door opened again and a man with long curly hair, a wide smile, and wearing a navy blue pinstripe suit over his slender body waved at her.
He went straight to the counter. There was a spring in his step with his shiny brown shoes, and he seemed charismatic. He made both of the baristas laugh with a joke she couldn’t hear.
He came back with a matcha latte and sat down across from her.
“Troy.” He extended his hand. “Nice to meet you” His smile was wide and perfect, filled with confidence that melted her distrust.
“Miranda.” She got up from her chair, extended her own hand, and returned his smile. “Nice to meet you.”
They shook hands and sat down to sip their drinks…
An alarm stirred Miranda from her dream. She reached over to her phone and tried to turn it off. It was Saturday, for Christ’s sake.
And she was having a very nice wet dream about Troy using his hands to-
“Ugh!” she finally found her device and made it shut up.
Blinking several times, she sat down slowly.
There had to be something wrong.
Her date was last night. Friday.
Then today had to be Saturday, right?
Except, the phone said it was Sunday.
She pulled her hair back. She wasn’t feeling bad, nor hungover. Looking down at her clothes; she was wearing her usual pajamas in her own bed. Everything seemed normal and fine.
What happened to her Saturday?
Miranda took a deep breath. There was no need to worry. Surely she could ask her roommate, and Vicky could give her a reasonable explanation.
“For now,” Miranda thought to herself, “let’s go out for a walk. There is no need to change my regular Sunday routine; get as much sun as possible before the season turns colder and I have to hide away beneath four layers of clothing. Besides, the fresh air might help refresh my memory.”
As she picked her outfit, Miranda felt frisky.
Sure, a leather miniskirt wasn’t the best to go out running in the morning, but maybe for once she could listen to that friend that always told her “you should dress a little more daring from time to time”.
A tight red tank top was the perfect compliment. Normally she didn’t wear it because it made her self-conscious. It felt awkward and uncomfortable to wear something so tight and revealing, but today, it was perfect.
She twirled in front of the mirror, trying to piece together what was missing from her ensemble.
Her hands reached to her neck, and suddenly it clicked.
Rummaging through her jewelry box, she found an old lace choker with a little bell that she hadn’t worn since her emo years back in highschool.
She pulled out a pair of pump heels she didn’t remember buying, and went out for a walk in the fresh November morning.
Just before walking out of the apartment, she saw the little pink purse that her roommate never wore and decided it was the perfect accessory to add a little color.
It was a windy morning, cold but bearable. Her long glossy black hair waved behind her with the wind. She felt sexy and confident. Her heels clacked on the sidewalk and she added a little wiggle to her step.
People were incredibly kind to her, almost stepping aside to let her pass. Some smiled at her, mostly men, and stared at her, mostly at her chest. She simply smiled.
Miranda approached to her favorite coffee shop and looked at her reflection in the window.
She had forgotten her bra. How silly of her. She figured that tiny detail was the reason behind why the fabric felt so good against her nipples. They were hard and poking through the fabric. The effect was so prominent that even her areolas were visible.
She puckered her lips and winked at herself.
That’s why everyone stared at her. She also forgot to wear lipstick.
She pulled out a makeup kit from the purse and applied the vibrant red cosmetic on her lips. Vicky had great taste. She would have to do something for her, as thanks for borrowing the purse.
When Miranda walked in, the cashier almost didn’t recognize her.
“Miranda?” she was dumbstruck. “Almost didn’t recognize you with the” she stared at her chest “... New look”. She cleared her throat and shook her head. “The usual?”
Miranda smiled, almost sparkling.
“Uhmm... Not today. I feel like having one of those colorful drinks today”
“We have the holiday drinks if you want one, although they are very sweet and you always order without sugar.”
“I feel bubbly today. The more sugary, the better”
“... Okay...” said the barista, taking a colorful cup and placing the order “one chestnut praline latte-“
“Extra whipped cream”
“-Extra whipped cream for Miranda, is that right?”
“You can write in Andy today”
“I thought you hated being called that.” The cashier raised an eyebrow.
Andy gave her a chirpy smile. “For some reason, I feel like an Andy today, dressing like an Andy and drinking what an Andy would.”
The cashier dismissed the bizarre interaction with her customer and placed the order.
A couple of minutes later, the barista called the order. “Andy!”
Andy stepped to the counter and blew a kiss to the barista. Normally she kept herself to dating men, but the barista seemed really cute with her alternative look, and she kept staring at her chest.
She took her cup and noticed the number written under her name with tiny hearts.
The barista winked at her, and she blushed.
She opened the top and drank from the cup. Some of the whipped cream fell from her mouth to her chest and over her cheek.
“Oops,” she giggled, “I’m a little ditzy today.” She cleaned the whipped cream from her blouse and the corner of her mouth in a manner a traditional housewife might call lascivious. She looked straight into the other barista’s eyes, a cute 20-something boy, and even licked her fingers all the way down to the base, moaning and making a loud pop sound.
Her coworker coughed from behind him.
Andy turned towards the door.
“Was that Miranda?” the boy murmured.
“She said she felt like an Andy today...” the cashier looked down at him. “You might want to trade places with me, hide that erection behind the register for a while.” His coworkers chuckled as he turned red.
Andy giggled and hopped out of the café.
Strutting through the park, she felt like a different person.
Something must have happened last night. She knew she had a great date with Troy, though she remembered little of it. But he must have made an impression, since she had a delicious wet dream about him.
She sat down on a bench and took another sip from her coffee.
One hand slid down, caressing her legs like Troy did in her dream. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the image of his hands raising up her skirt, touching her-
A man sat down by her side. She opened her eyes and recognized him.
“Troy!” she almost dropped her coffee on him as she threw her arms around him.
“Did I interrupt something?” His voice was deep and smooth.
“Not at all. I was just thinking of you.” She said, bitting her lip.
He smiled and looked at her. “I like the ensemble you chose for today.” He said, his eyes taking her whole body with hunger.
“Do you? I’m glad you like it Tr-”
He placed his index finger on her lips.
An urge to open her mouth and take it in came over her, but she stood in place, her eyes wide open, not sure what to do or why this small action was so powerful and making her so horny.
“What did we say you were going to call me from now on?”
She squirmed in her seat, frowning. She tried to remember.
Closing her eyes, she got a flash from last night. She remembered moaning under his fingers. She opened her eyes, beaming.
“Sir or Master!” Andy said and popped his finger in her mouth, licking it and closing her eyes.
He smiled and patted her head with his free hand. “Good girl.”
She relished his touch, pressing her head against his palm.
Troy pulled out the finger from her mouth, “Now, let me inspect you, get up and step in front of me”
She jumped to her feet, giving him a little twirl.
His hands landed on her hips and explored her body, going under her blouse and up her belly. He felt her erect nipples, and she cooed, enjoying his touch.
“I see you forgot to wear a bra,” he said, caressing her nubs.
“A bra?” She moaned. Something about that word didn’t seem right. She stretched for him.
“Never mind.” His hands slid down this time until he reached her skirt. A small touch and the button that closed it from the side popped.
He caressed the small of her back and pulled down the leather mini skirt slowly in the middle of the deserted park.
He smiled. “And no panties either.” His middle finger touched her engorged clit.
She yelped at his touch.
“Good girl.” He kissed her belly before pulling the skirt back into place.
A shiver went down her spine, and a sigh of frustration followed it.
“Don’t worry, we are not done,” he pulled something out of the inner pocket of his jacket. A leather leash.
“Lift your skirt for me, please.” His voice was soft yet firm, like the touch of his hands.
Andy nodded, blushing as she did as she was told and showed her Master her pussy.
She felt something clasp right under her clit, the cold metal touching her increasingly wet clit.
“That’s cold Master”
“Let’s go for a walk” he gave her a mischievous smile before standing up.
Andy looked down and saw herself attached to a leash between her legs.
At that moment, she remembered that last night wasn’t the first date she had with Troy. Last night was the second one.
She had a date a few months back.
Back when she began using apps to find a cute boyfriend.
She remembered all those nights talking with him.
All those nights touching herself as they sexted each other.
After she confessed her nastiest fantasies. After she admitted how, he helped her relax. When she told her how she wanted to be hypnotized and used.
Those nights when he began to trance her and program her as he desired.
And finally, she remembered how she met him for a coffee some months back on their first date. Ready to do anything he said. How he held her hand as she moaned while she got a new piercing. She chose it; she chose where she wanted it. And she chose how she was going to wear it.
And then she forgot.
Troy made her forget.
How could he withstand all of that? Just waiting for her to heal so that she could fulfill her fantasy.
Miranda forgot everything about it, but Andy. Andy remembered.
And now Andy was out for a walk with her Master.
Drinking coffee, as Troy pulled the leash connected to the piercing above her clit.
She blushed, panting with pleasure with every step they took. Andy enjoyed every gaze that lingered over her.
Troy looked over his shoulder to observe her, “I see you are enjoying this.” He said with a mocking smile.
Andy lifted an eyebrow and then looked down. She was dripping and leaving a trail.
“I am, Master.” She skipped a few steps and rushed to kiss his cheek.
“I am glad you do,” He said and returned the kiss, possessively holding her, and with the hand holding the leash he touched her pussy lips.
“We should go. I bet you can hardly wait.”
Andy got on her tiptoes and gave him a passionate kiss. “I am yours Master, if you want me to, I will wait.”
As he led the way, Andy was sure she was going to enjoy her third date with her master.