The Inspection:  Part 1

After talking on the phone extensively, she decides she wants to meet this mystery man in person, but she was terrified and intrigued at the same time, about the way he said it must happen, if it is to happen.

The thought of being inspected by a man she had never met before horrified her, yet evoked feelings in her she never expected.  Was this safe, or even sane?  How stupid would she feel if this went badly?  But, at the same time, a feeling 
inside her pushed her onward....  Pushed her out of her comfort zone.  She was determined to explore this new experience.

She took all the necessary precautions...  Left information with a friend about where she would be, what time she would be there, the email address and phone number of the mystery man, but in the end, she drove to the hotel, and did exactly as he instructed her to.

30 minutes prior to leaving for the hotel, and again when leaving, she sent him a text message reporting in to him.  Then again when she arrived in the parking lot.  Nervous as hell and a little scared, dressed exactly as he instructed, she made her way toward the lobby.

She sat on the couch in the waiting area, on the exact cushion he instructed her to sit on for precisely nine minutes.  It felt like an eternity...  She wondered if he was watching her...  How else would he know if she followed his instructions? 

She glanced around the room trying to figure out if he was one of the six or eight people milling about.  None of them seemed remotely interested in her or what she was doing there.  Just then she realized she literally had no idea what he 
looked like.  It occured to her it didn't matter what he looked like...  What mattered was they way he spoke to her, the way he explained things to her, the way she felt when she listened to him.  She suspected, or hoped, rather, that she had finally found the man who could earn her respect, her trust, and her absolute obedience.  Who else could have her sitting on a couch in a hotel about to do what she was about to.  With that thought, excitement flowed into her again, briefly washing away the fear and doubt that felt like it had taken over her.  It was that brief feeling that she was chasing.  Teasing her along like a carrot dangling in front of her before retreating, causing her to continue with this crazy idea.  That feeling was why she was there.

She was so consumed with these thoughts, she almost didn't realize the time was approaching.  At exactly nine minutes, as instructed, she reached for a book located on the coffee table in front of her and found the room key inside.  She walked across the lobby  and set the book on a counter, sitting up on it's end so that it could be seen from a distance, and began her journey toward room 369; She was finally on her journey inward.

A fond memory of mine:  It was a terribly hot day, and I needed groceries, so my live in domestic/sexual slave and I headed out to the grocery store to obtain some provisions.  

She was dressed in a white tank top with no bra.  The tank top was very thin, allowing you to just barely see her big aerolas if you looked hard enough.  It was loose fitting but kind of small, with large arm openings, and it barely concealed her medium to large breasts.  She was wearing a short skirt with no panties.  I really like my girls dressed like this when we go out, but this day was particularly hot and the high temperature required thin comfortable clothes in order to remain sane.

This particular slave was really self conscious about her body, and she had been raised in a super religious home, and she was in the process of deprogramming the religious propaganda that had been pounded into her by her father, so it was a bonus that wearing one of my favorite outfits made her feel a little uncomfortable and off balance when we were in public.  It really makes the process of relying on me and looking to me for guidance/decisions more satisfying for her when she's that uncomfortable.  It's easy to obey when it's fun and sexy and comfortable...  But when you're outside of your comfort zone, yet you obey anyway because you trust your master, that's obedience.  That's valuable.

We made our way through the store, selecting what I needed, and headed over to the registers to check out.

I was preparing to pay for my purchase, while she was working very hard, struggling to get everyone unloaded from the cart and placed on the counter so it could be scanned, quickly enough.  She was popping up and down as she unloaded the cart and one of her breasts rose up in her shirt just slightly, barely revealing the very top of one of her areolas.  All you could see was a small brown curve at the very top of her areola, barely rising above the top of the shirt.

Anyway, some prude standing in line behind us decided to say something about her breast hanging out of her shirt (it was not, btw).  She said it in a way where she seemed like she was trying to look helpful and concerned, but it was obvious she was judging us, and me in particular.  

Hot, tired, slightly embarrassed, and a little frustrated, yet still obedient, my pet made me very proud of her when she put the pious busy body into her place by telling her that she didn't need her help and she should mind her own business.

Well done my pet...   Well done.