The sound of her high heels clicking across the wooden floor was the first thing to catch Mike's attention. It wasn't the sound itself that was intriguing. Many of the women who frequented this upscale tavern on Friday evening wore high heels. Her stride was different. It spoke to him of power, authority, and self-confidence. He turned to look, curious as to who this might be and was ensnared. Caught like a fly in a spider's web.

The vision he beheld was almost too much for his eyesight to bear. Raven hair cascaded to her shoulders, Its slight wave a natural state, not the result of brush and blow dryer. It framed the alabaster skin of her blemish free face and made it look almost unnaturally white. Sensuous ruby lips completed the contrast.

A white blouse covered by a black jacket did nothing to hide her endowments. Just as her black pencil skirt accented the curve of her hips, their swaying motion demanded the attention of all who beheld her. But her most prominent feature was her bright blue eyes. Her penetrating gaze was sharp enough to strip the veneer of pretense from anyone and lay bare their soul. Already tall for a woman, at 5' 10", her 6" heels made her tower over all but the tallest men. Every eye followed her progress through the room as she walked its length and took a stool at the end of the bar.

Before the bartender could pour her wine, the parade of potential suitors began. One by one, each was swiftly rebuffed until she was left in peace. None left her smiling. Most had their brows knitted in consternation. A few, eyes wide with wonder or fear. Even one woman joined the competition. A slender doe-eyed brunette approached her hesitantly. After a few moments, more time than she had given any of the men, the female admirer almost ran back to her seat, blushing deeply.

Mike watched the scene unfolding before him with deepening gloom. How could he possibly succeed where so many had failed? And yet, like a moth to a flame, he was drawn to her. Gathering his courage and preparing for rejection, he cautiously approached. As he neared, the scent of her perfume engulfed him. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, it clouded his mind, banished all thought, and prevented speech.

When he opened his eyes, her piercing gaze held him in place while she divined all his secret desires.

"Sit," she commanded, indicating the stool next to her. "Your name." It was an order, not a question. He answered as he slid onto the stool.

"Mike, Mike Gallagher," he said hoarsely. His speech was slow to return, hampered by the lump in his throat.

"Mike is not your given name. Is it Michael?"

"Yes, But I prefer Mike."

"What you prefer is not important. I do not use nicknames or abbreviations unless I bestow them. Your name is Michael and that is what I will call you. Now, Michael, why have you come to me?" Those eyes that held him in place now demanded the truth. Unable to hold them, he studied his drink.

"I couldn't help myself. I was compelled. Your presence demanded it." A wry smile played across her face as she gave him a slight nod.

"That is an acceptable answer. You surprise me by being so honest. Most are not willing to admit such feelings. I would know more of you if you remain truthful. Are you willing to go on?"

"Yes," he answered slowly. He wanted to behold her, to drink in her beauty, but was still unable to look into her eyes. "You haven't told me your name."

"I will tell you my name when you have earned the privilege to hear it. Until then you will address me as Ma'am or Miss. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good. Now answer my questions." The next several minutes passed quickly as she probed into his life. As they spoke, he slowly relaxed until he could look into those wondrous eyes and answer with confidence. The past and present were scrutinized closely. His work as an architect, hobbies, likes, and dislikes were all exposed and examined. Finally, she seemed satisfied.

"You should do nicely. My name is Dominique Francon. My favorite restaurant is nearby, and I have not eaten. You will buy us dinner and I will tell you of myself." They left the tavern, arms linked, turning heads as they passed.

They made the short walk to the restaurant in silence. His only attempt at conversation was halted by one finger held up to her lips, halting his words. Mike surged with pride at the heads that turned as they passed by. Her presence demanded as much attention on the street as it did in the tavern.

"Here it is," she announced as they turned the corner. "I think you will find it interesting. I dine here often. Le Maison is owned by a dear friend of mine, Raine Delacroix." They entered the crowded lobby and Dominique was immediately recognized by the hostess.

"Good evening Miss Francon. Allow me to show you to your table." As they were seated, Dominique waved dismissively at the menus presented by the hostess.

"We won't need these. Is Suzanne here tonight?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I will send her right over. Would you like me to tell Ms. Stoddard that you are here?"

"Yes. Thank you, Alicia." The hostess gave a slight bow in answer to Dominique's dismissal and quickly departed to find their server. Suzanne appeared moments later.

"Alicia said you are ready to order," she said as she poured their water. "What would you like tonight?"

"We will have the Wellington. You know the way I like it. With that, I would like rice pilaf and steamed asparagus. After you put the order in, bring us a bottle of Merlot."

"As you wish, Miss Francon. I will bring your wine immediately." Dominique turned her attention to Mike when they were alone.

"I promised to tell you about myself and I always keep my word. Are you familiar with La Belle Fleur?"

"It's a fashion house," he answered. "Very chic and awfully expensive. Is that where you work?" His question was met with stony silence. He had to look away as those piercing eyes bored a hole through him.

"It is where I work but I am no one's employee. I am the owner. I studied at the Sorbonne University and began my career at Saint Laurent-Paris. I founded my own line four years ago and have a studio not far from here and one in Paris. My time is divided between the two. Because of my friendship with Raina and its proximity to my office, I dine here often. Raina is kind enough to keep this table open for me.” Their conversation was interrupted by Suzanne returning with the wine.

"Ms. Stoddard will be out as soon as she settles things in the kitchen." She offered the wine for Dominique's approval and departed as soon as it was poured.

"I am curious about something,” Michael asked. “Many people approached you at the tavern tonight. Why did you choose me as your companion?”

"All of those who spoke to me were asked the same question. Only two of you gave an acceptable answer. Most said they were attracted by my appearance. That means they are only interested in claiming me as a conquest. I am not, nor will I ever, be someone's possession or plaything. I make others my toys."

"You said 'two of us.' Was the other one the brunette with large brown eyes?"

"You were watching, weren't you. Did you watch the others as well?" The color that flooded over Mike's face answered her question. "That was very naughty. You will have to answer for that." The color in his face deepened. She was making him feel like a child and it was very unsettling. The uncomfortable silence that followed was broken by the appearance of a statuesque blonde dressed in chef whites.

"Dominique, I did not expect you this evening. When did you return from Paris?" Raina Delacroix placed a hand on Dominique's shoulder and bent to kiss her cheek. "Your dinner will be served shortly. I apologize for the delay. My sous-chef was not paying proper attention to his duties and it was almost ruined. Jaime is due for a lesson in responsibility tonight."

"It seems Jaime is not the only one due a lesson tonight. Raina, this is Michael Gallagher."

"Nice to meet you, Michael. Have you been a naughty boy?" Michael felt his face flush and turned away feeling as if he were being scrutinized by an angry parent. "Perhaps we should teach them together. We could take turns."

"Michael and I have just met. This is his first time and he will need to be prepared. Come over after you close. He will be ready by then." Raina stared at him intently, sizing him up as a tiger would its prey. Placing a finger under his chin, she raised his head, forcing him to look at her.

"See you later, naughty boy." Slowly, she drew her finger along his jaw as she left. His stomach tied itself in knots at the thought of being at her mercy.

"Do not worry" Dominique smiled as if she had read his thoughts. "Raina enjoys her teasing. I will not leave you in her clutches." Their meal arrived as she poured the last of the wine.

"Michael, do you want to love me?" The abrupt frankness of her question startled him. "Is that why you came to me? If you want to love me, you must be very brave." Dominique’s interrogation at the bar made Michael look at himself and now he was forced to examine his desires. In that moment, he knew he wanted to belong to her, to do her bidding and to obey her every command.

"Yes. I want you. I need you to want me."

"I only want those who will serve me. If you mean what you say, you must be prepared for that." Michael wondered what she meant by being prepared for service but did not care. With his throat too dry for a reply, he nodded slowly. They ate their meal in silence, only commenting on its excellent quality.

During the taxi ride to her apartment, their conversation was mundane, meaningless chatter. Dominique gave Michael no indication of her intentions and Michael's mind roiled with suspicion and doubt. She moved close to him, lightly resting a hand on his thigh, and smiling to ease his apprehension.

“I thought we were going to your apartment?” Michael queried when the taxi came to a stop in front of La Belle Fleur.

“This is my building. The first floor is my studio and workshop. The seventh is where I entertain my guests and eight is my private living quarters. The rest is apartments, three per floor. All occupants are closely screened. All must meet my very exacting standards.” Dominique ushered Michael into the living room upon exiting the elevator on the seventh floor and poured two fingers of Scotch for each of them.

“The American fascination with putting ice in your drinks puzzles me. You take something meant to be savored and dilute it so you can drink it faster. I do not allow such self-indulgence.” Dominique indicated an over-stuffed armchair for Michael, taking the one opposite him. The alcohol helped him relax and when he was finished, it was time to begin. She approached and took his hands in hers, urging him to his feet.

"Do not fear me, Michael. Tonight, I will guide you on a journey of self-discovery. There are desires within you that have not been revealed. Together, we will find your limits and take you a little beyond them. I will teach you to obey and I will make you love me." She circled her arms around his waist and pulled him close. Their lips met in a passionate kiss and he knew he could never refuse her.

"First, let's have a look at you. Remove your socks, shoes, and trousers." Michael found undressing while Dominique remained fully clothed extremely embarrassing. She stood before him, feet slightly apart and arms folded as he slowly complied. Her penetrating gaze made him feel like he was already naked. His hands trembled from a mixture of passion and panic as he unfastened and lowered his pants. When he was finished, the shirt hanging in front of him did little to hide his arousal.

"I will do the rest," she stated. Dominique unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor. Caressing and stroking his shoulders chest and upper arms, she appraised their strength. The feel of her touch upon his naked flesh sent shivers of delight through his body. She ignored the bulge of his manhood threatening to tear through the fabric of his spandex briefs.

"You take care of your body. Be proud of it. I will test its endurance tonight." She moved behind him and used both her hands to cup and then knead his backside. "I like your bottom. It is firm and muscular and should be very resilient." Without warning, she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and whisked them to the floor. "Now let us see what you have been trying to hide."

Normally, Mike found being undressed by an attractive member of the opposite sex exhilarating. Being stripped and inspected like a cut of meat only fueled his anxiety. However, being dominated by this powerful and confidant woman was a fantasy come true. His body responded accordingly. Taking no notice of his prominent erection, Dominique stepped back in front of him and roughly grabbed a handful of pubic hair.

"This must go. I require all my playthings to be clean shaven. It must be removed before the next time we meet, or it will not go well for you. Follow me. I have something to show you." She led him down a short hallway, stopping at the first door she came to. When Dominique opened the door and the contents of the room came into view, Michael's heart leapt into his throat.

The walls were adorned with all manner of bodily restraints and implements of discipline. In one corner stood a spanking bench and against the far wall hung an X-shaped cross. A rectangular metal frame stood in the center. Just large enough for a man to stand within. The wrist and ankle cuffs attached declared there would be no escape. With a firm grip on his elbow, Dominique led Michael into the steel structure. His desire kept him from resisting as she slowly shackled him into place. Without a word, she turned and left the room.

Standing naked with his hands secured above his head and his ankles fettered thirty inches apart, Michael's imagination was fueled by the possibilities to come. Dominique had made him face his darkest cravings and then demanded his surrender. He did so willingly but not without some trepidation.

The sight of Dominique, suddenly standing in the doorway, startled him. Clad only in a black corset, matching garter belt, stockings, and stiletto heels, her appearance sharpened his hunger. She slowly approached. Every movement heralded her sexuality, those penetrating eyes daring him to reach beyond the boundaries she imposed.

Passing him without acknowledging his prescience, she selected a blood-red leather flogger and matching eye mask from the wall of implements. A slight smile curled her lips and the flogger swayed back and forth in time with her pace as she came to him. Michael's heart pounded as she slid the blindfold over his head and covered his eyes. He did not protest.

"I want you to concentrate on what you are feeling. Every sensation must be unexpected." Her fingers traveled down his neck and on to his chest, the nails lightly scratching his flesh.

"Ultimately, you are in control. All you have to do is beg for mercy." Pressing harder, she traced circles around his nipples and then pinched them hard enough to make him catch his breath.

"If you do, I will release you immediately. Then I will tell you to leave and we will never meet again." Her nails continued down his abdomen, leaving red streaks in their wake and stopping just before reaching his erect manhood.

"I will find your limits and push you beyond them," she whispered into his ear. "If you endure, you will earn a spot at my feet and I will allow you to love me." He flinched when he felt the flogger travel across his shoulders and lightly brush his chest.

"Feel the leather. This is my favorite instrument. It can both kiss and bite." Suddenly a forehand blow struck his left breast then the backhand across the right. They were hard enough to leave a tingling sensation without undue discomfort. She kept a measured pace as over and over the flogger slapped from side to side. The nipples distended as they became engorged with blood making them more sensitive and the blindfold made him focus on what was happening to his chest.

Gradually, Dominique increased the strength of her strokes. The tingle became a sting and increased to fiery agony as the flogger lashed his skin. Michael gritted his teeth and his body tensed as he tried to endure the sting. His efforts were fruitless. Pain engulfed his senses and approached unbearable. He cried out with every swipe of the lash. Just as he was about to scream for mercy she stopped.

Michael's breath came in gasps and head dropped forward until his chin came to rest on his chest. He had not realized how much he had been straining against his shackles until he felt the ache in his arms and shoulders. Suddenly, before he could fully recover, he felt her mouth on his bosom, kissing, licking and lightly sucking on a nipple while her hand reached for his now flaccid member, fondling and then stroking as it returned to life.

Her attentions aroused his passion and it mingled with the pain lingering across his chest. His desire surged while her mouth traveled across the skin colored by her lash and her hand worked vigorously. His lust was about to culminate when she stopped, leaving him unsatisfied.

"Please don't stop." The hand that was giving him so much pleasure struck his cheek hard enough to turn his head.

"You will not speak unless I give you permission," she hissed. Her tone carried the threat of more punishment should he disobey. Michael could hear the clack of her heels on the wooden floor as she strolled behind him. His need still throbbed in his loins when the strands of the flogger danced across his shoulders disclosing Dominique's next target. Warring emotions assaulted him. He wanted her attention and needed to submit to her. He craved the release she had almost granted and feared the pain she was about to inflict.

Dominique twirled the flogger expertly. Its tendrils traced lines over his shoulders down to the middle of his back, awakening the nerve endings. Repeating the pattern performed on his chest, she gradually increased her effort until she was whipping his back without mercy. Every muscle in his body strained with the exertion of enduring her onslaught. Once again, she stopped just short of the limit of his resistance.

Dropping the flogger, she embraced him from behind, pressing her breasts against his back and grinding her pelvis into his rump. Her left hand massaged his chest as her right traveled down his abdomen to find his manhood.

"You have done well," she whispered into his ear. " You have more endurance than I thought. Now you shall have your reward." The feeling of her flesh rubbing against his back, her hot breath on his cheek as she kissed and licked his ear and neck, and her hand inflaming his loins soon achieved her purpose. Moaning loudly, a spasm arched his back, and spilled his seed onto the floor. Physically and emotionally spent, Michael sagged in his bonds. Gradually, his strength returned, and Dominique released him.

"Remove the blindfold." Michael freed his eyes to find her standing before him holding a towel. Her face a blank mask showing no emotion. "Clean the floor." He took the towel and bent to his task as Dominique sat on the couch and placed a cushion on the floor at her feet. "Kneel," she commanded when he had finished.

"You have learned that the line between pain and pleasure is not well defined," she lectured. The physical reaction to both is remarkably similar. Your body tenses, your muscles strain and you cry out as the sensations overwhelm you. Both will rob you of your ability to think as well as the will to resist. I have shown you the limitations of each and I will teach you to go beyond them."

"At the restaurant, you asked me about the people who had approached me, and I will tell you about the only one, besides you, that gave an acceptable answer. As you guessed, it was the brown-haired girl. She begged me to take her home with me. Her request was impertinent. I said if I took her home the first thing, I would do was tie her to that bench and cane her without mercy. I was testing her, and she failed when she returned to her table." Dominique eyed him sternly. "Your actions were also impertinent."

"Are you going to cane me?" Fear gripped Michael. After the ordeal he had just endured, he was unsure about handling a caning.

"No. She was imposing upon me and imposition is the transgression of an adult. I would have punished her as an adult. You were spying like a child would spy on his elders. You will be punished as a child." Dominique rose from her place on the sofa and retrieved a wooden paddle from the wall of implements. Finished with black lacquer, it was large enough to cover Michael's bottom and had several holes drilled into it.

"Come and stand before me," she demanded as she slid a straight-backed chair into the center of the room and sat down. Michael's stomach tied itself in knots as he slowly approached. Despite his impending punishment, he was surprised by his blooming manhood.

"Apologize to me and ask me to punish you."

"I am very sorry for the way I behaved." Michael swallowed hard. The apology was easy but asking for a spanking was almost more than he could handle. "I deserve to be punished for what I did. Please discipline me in any way you see fit,"

"Since you ask so nicely, I will be happy to blister your backside. Get over my lap." Michael lowered himself across her knees as comfortably as that most humiliating of positions would allow. Dominique rubbed the paddle across his upturned buttocks. The cool wood gave no indication of the heat it was about to generate in his hindquarters.

"While you are being punished, you will not attempt to get off my lap or interfere with your spanking in any way. If you do, I will restrain you and use the cane. To help you from reaching back to protect your rump, take hold of my ankle, and don't let go. You are permitted to vocalize in any way, but you may not use profanity. Swearing will result in an immediate mouth soaping and then we will resume from the beginning." Michael gripped her ankle and took a deep breath, but nothing could prepare him for what happened next.

Dominique raised the paddle above her shoulder and brought it down with all her strength. It flattened the crown of both cheeks with a resounding crack, leaving a red smear in its wake. Michael's head snapped back, and his feet came off the floor with the fiery pain of the first blow. Before the sensation could register fully, the second smack landed, forcing a loud yelp from his mouth. She paddled him relentlessly at a rapid pace. Each strike landed on the same spot and the sting of every whack blurred into an ever-escalating inferno.

He tried to remain stoic but the battering of his nates had his feet dancing in the air as the dark red color of his ass became covered with a white haze. Soon he was begging her to stop but his pleas went unheeded. Gradually, his head lowered as he submitted to her and accepted his blistering punishment. His strangled cries for mercy became deep soul wracking sobs. When his hand fell away from her ankle and lay limply on the floor, she stopped.

It took several moments for Michael to recover enough to attempt standing. Dominique had paddled him until he was black and blue. Tiny blisters from the holes in the paddle covered his backside.

"Into the corner," she said as she helped him rise on shaking legs. "Hands on your head and keep them there." He did as he was told, barely resisting the desire to rub the pain from his tortured flesh. The blast furnace raging in his rear demanded his entire focus. His body trembled from the strain of his ordeal. Suddenly he felt something cold being applied to his bottom and a loud moan of relief escaped his lips. Dominique was gently applying a moisturizing lotion, slowly dissipating the heat she had just created.

"Michael Gallagher, you belong to me," she said softly. "When I call, you will come, without question or delay and you will submit to my every whim. We will explore your darkest fantasies and I will show you the pleasures that lie within them. You will be rewarded when you please me and punished when I am disappointed." As she spoke, he knew that he was where he wanted to be.

Michael jumped when the elevator bell announced someone’s arrival. He panicked at the thought of being seen in his present condition, and hoped Dominique would allow him to dress.

"That is just Raina," she replied to his unspoken question. "She is bringing Jaime here for some much-needed correction. Unfortunately for him, she has a temper and is more severe than me. You will pleasure me while she teaches him to behave." Michael's hope of covering his nudity vanished.