The night felt different than any other night before. Claudia and I had gone out to dinner many times, but tonight wasn’t about us. It was about stepping into something new. Richard had been precise with his instructions, even before we met him in person. After weeks of messaging, tonight would be our first physical meeting, and his control had already begun to manifest in subtle ways.

Before this evening, Richard had made it clear that things would change. He didn’t push too hard but gave Claudia her first small, deliberate orders regarding her attire. Gone were the usual jeans and comfortable tops she preferred. In his calm, measured way, Richard had guided her toward a more refined look—something more fitting for the role she would soon embrace.

"You won’t wear jeans," he had written in one of his last messages before the meeting. "For our first dinner together, I want you to wear a skirt or a dress. Something simple but elegant. Feminine. And no push-up bra. I want your natural shape on display. I want you to either wear no bra at all or one with no padding at all."

Claudia had been nervous but compliant. Tonight, she had chosen a simple black skirt that flowed just above her knees, paired with a soft blouse. The lack of her usual push-up bra made her feel more exposed, vulnerable even. She looked beautiful, but in a way that was different from her usual casual style. There was a hint of submission already there, unspoken but unmistakable.

I sensed her nerves as we entered the upscale bar Richard had selected. It was far more sophisticated than any place we usually went. Dim lighting, dark wood accents, and the quiet murmur of refined conversations set the tone. We had a reserved table, tucked away in a corner where we would have privacy. I could feel the tension in Claudia’s grip as she held my arm, her thoughts swirling with anticipation.

“Are we really doing this?” she whispered as we sat down, her eyes flicking nervously toward the door.

“We are,” I replied, though my heart raced just as much as hers. Richard’s presence was already looming over us, even before he arrived.

We ordered drinks, trying to distract ourselves from the growing anxiety. Then, as if on cue, Richard entered the bar. There was no need for introductions; his confidence and aura of control were unmistakable. He was tall, well-built, and dressed in a tailored suit that hinted at wealth without flaunting it. His eyes found us immediately, and a small, knowing smile crossed his face.

As he approached, I noticed Claudia straighten her posture, instinctively adjusting herself under his gaze. When he reached our table, Richard extended his hand—first to me, then to Claudia. His handshake was firm, his touch lingering just a second longer on hers.

“Claudia, you look lovely,” he said, his eyes briefly scanning her attire. “I’m glad you followed my instructions.”

“Thank you,” she replied softly, her cheeks flushing slightly under his gaze.

Richard took his seat, his presence effortlessly filling the space between us. The conversation began with polite pleasantries, though the air was thick with unspoken tension. Small talk about work and interests felt almost absurd, given the underlying dynamics at play. But Richard seemed content to take his time, never rushing, never forcing the conversation in any one direction. He had a way of making everything feel controlled, even in moments of apparent casualness.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of anticipation, Richard leaned back in his chair, his gaze turning more serious. "I think it's time we discuss what we're really here for," he said, his voice calm but deliberate.

He looked between the two of us, waiting. A deliberately long silence followed, his gaze steady and assessing, as if daring us to fill the void. I swallowed hard before speaking.

"We want to explore this lifestyle," I said, echoing the words we had rehearsed so many times. "Claudia has been curious about submission, and I’ve been drawn to the idea of giving up control. We’re here because we believe you can guide us."

Richard nodded, his eyes now focused entirely on Claudia. "And what about you?" he asked her directly, his tone softer but no less commanding.

Claudia hesitated, her fingers tightening around her glass, her thoughts racing. Do I really want this? Can I trust him? Trust myself? She felt exposed under his gaze, every inch of her body hyperaware of his attention. "I want this too," she replied, her voice quiet. "But I’m... nervous."

"That's natural," Richard said, his voice a soothing contrast to the power he exuded. "What you're stepping into is unfamiliar. It’s unfamiliar territory. But that’s what makes it worthwhile. Trust me, and I will guide you both through this."

There was a pause as he allowed his words to settle, then Richard’s expression sharpened slightly. "Before we continue, I want to clarify something." He glanced at Claudia’s outfit once again, a hint of appraisal in his eyes. "You look beautiful tonight, but this is only the beginning. Your wardrobe will change over time, as will your mindset. I expect you to dress more... deliberately from now on. Less casual, more elegant. And eventually, more revealing."

Claudia blinked, absorbing his words. She shifted slightly in her seat, clearly processing the implications of what he was saying.

"I understand," she said softly, her voice steady despite her nerves.

Richard smiled, satisfied with her response. "Good. Small steps. I won’t rush you, but I will expect you to follow my lead."

He turned to me next, his gaze locking onto mine. "And you, are you ready for this? You’ve fantasized about giving up control, but reality is different. This is about more than just watching—it’s about surrendering completely. Are you prepared?"

I nodded, though the weight of his words sent a thrill of uncertainty through me. "We’re both ready."

Richard seemed to consider my response, his eyes narrowing slightly as if gauging my sincerity. Then, without a word, he stood up from the table.

"I’ll give you two a moment," he said, his tone casual but with an underlying command. "I’m going to use the restroom. When I return, I expect a decision."

He paused, his gaze shifting back to Claudia. "If you’re ready to move forward, Claudia, I expect you to show me. When I come back, you will have removed your panties."

Claudia’s eyes widened, her face flushing with surprise. She glanced at me, her expression a mix of shock and nervous excitement. Richard’s command hung in the air between us as he turned and walked away, leaving us alone with our thoughts.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I could see the same tension in Claudia’s eyes. This was the moment of truth. Richard had made his expectations clear—if we wanted to move forward, Claudia would have to submit in a very real, very intimate way.

"Do you want this?" I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

Claudia hesitated, her eyes flicking toward the door where Richard had disappeared. She took a deep breath, her fingers trembling slightly as she placed her hand on mine.

"I do," she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of fear and anticipation. "But... I need to know you’re okay with this."

I squeezed her hand gently. "I am. If you’re ready, then so am I."

With a small nod, Claudia took another deep breath, and, with a nervous glance around the room, she discreetly reached beneath the table. Her hands moved with careful precision, her fingers working at the hem of her skirt. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she began to slip her panties down. I watched as she shifted in her seat, the delicate fabric disappearing into her purse. Her cheeks flushed with both embarrassment and excitement, but there was a newfound determination in her eyes.

When she was done, she sat back in her seat, her posture slightly more rigid, her breathing shallow. The act had been subtle, invisible to anyone around us, but its impact was undeniable. She had taken a significant step—one that would be impossible to undo.

Moments later, Richard returned. He approached the table with the same calm authority, his eyes scanning the room before landing on us. Without a word, he sat down, his gaze moving between the two of us.

"Well?" he asked softly, his voice laced with quiet command.

Claudia met his gaze, her hands trembling slightly in her lap. She didn’t say anything but reached into her purse and handed him the small bundle of strings and delicate fabric. Richard’s lips curved into a small, satisfied smile.

“Good girl,” he said, standing and straightening his jacket. “I have a room upstairs. If you're ready to take the next step... follow me.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked toward the exit. Claudia’s eyes locked onto mine, the decision now fully in our hands. We hesitated for only a heartbeat before standing and following him out the door.