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>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
WARNING!  This story is only for adults over the age of 18 and contains
Strong Sexual Content.  It is intended as a work of fiction for ADULTS
only, and the author does not in any way condone similar behavior.
If you are under the age or 18 or reside in a state that prohibits such 
behavior, stop reading immediately!!!
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Chance Meeting

By sfmaster@worldnet.att.net

Archiving permitted, reposting is permitted; but only if you
include this statement of limitation of use and notify the author by
e-mail.
The author forbids you to make, distribute, or sell multiple copies
of this story on paper, disk, or other fixed format.
However, individual readers may make single copies of the
story for their own, non-commercial use.

Copyright (c) 1997 by sfmaster@worldnet.att.net

Attn: Readers please feel free to send an e-mail to the author.  I do want
to hear from you!


"Chance Meeting" by sfmaster@worldnet.att.net

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Author's Note: This story was written during the recession year of 1991,
which is why it appears dated.  It was never sold commercially at that
time.
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Brenda Steiner sat in the bar, staring at the drink in her hand.  She was
in a local bar during happy hour, in the late afternoon.  After failing at
not one but two job interviews that day, she had decided to go into a bar
to have a drink.  Silently, she considered her options.  Her unemployment
was about to run out, and it didn't look like she was going to get a job in
her field soon.  Her Degree from F.I.T. and years spent in the garment
District in New York should have guaranteed her a job in her field, "the
rag business."

But with the recession now in full force, she had tried everything to get
another job.  She had traveled every day to Manhattan, knocking on the door
of everyone that she knew in the trade.  Only to find that firms weren't
hiring, they were instead laying off people because women weren't buying
expensive clothes as they did in the 80s.

Brenda had gradually lowered her sight, until she was finally reduced to
interviewing for sales positions in various department stores on Long
Island.  Here too, there was nothing.  After six months, she had gradually
concluded that there wasn't going to be a job at the end of the rainbow. 
Her unemployment was going to run out, and she would be reduced to asking
her parents for help again.

"Goddamn," Brenda said to herself.

"Excuse me?" asked the woman sitting next to her.

Brenda turned her head to look at the woman sitting next to her.  She was
an attractive brunette, rather tall, wearing a white silk blouse, red
leather skirt, and matching high-heels.  A red leather jacket was slung
over the back of the barstool, and Brenda observed that she was wearing
several expensive gold chains around her neck.

"Nothing, except that life sucks," Brenda answered.

"Want to tell me about it?" asked the woman, "I'm Sheri, and I'm a good
listener."

"You don't want to know about it," said Brenda, knocking back the rest of
her drink.

"Please, tell me about it?" Sheri asked as she motioned for the bartender
to mix another round of drinks for them.

"Well," began Brenda, "I'm about to lose my unemployment benefits, I can't
find a job, my rent and car payment are due, and I'm broke."

Brenda picked up her drink and took a good long swallow, enjoying the fire
in her throat as the vodka hit her stomach.

"Been out of work long?" Sheri asked.

"Six months.  I'm in the rag trade, used to work in the garment center. 
Now I can't even get a job as a sales clerk in a department store."

Brenda looked at her companion, suddenly realizing that she had seen Sheri
when she had entered.  From her seat in the bar, she could look outside the
window and see the parking lot.  Brenda had seen Sheri drive up in an
expensive red BMW.

In contrast, Brenda realized how she compared to Sheri.  Her plain blouse
and skirt, no jewelry, and Toyota made a poor comparison to the affluent
woman now sitting next to her.

"Recession's bad, isn't it," commented Sheri.

"Yeah," curtly answered Brenda.

Brenda wasn't just why she had opened up to Sheri.  Probably it was the
frustration of her circumstances and the alcohol that had started her
talking.

But from the way she dressed, the car she drove, and the money she placed
on the bar, Sheri wasn't suffering from the recession that was plaguing
Brenda.

"Sorry to hear you're doing badly, I'm sympathetic, " said Sherri.

"My dad always told me that you could find sympathy in the dictionary
between shit and syphilis," Brenda curtly answered.

Sheri did not reply, taking a long sip from her drink.

"Well," began Sheri, "I provide a need for some people, and I'm paid
rather well."

"Are you someone's Mistress, a kept woman?" questioned Brenda.

"Not in the usual sense, no.  At least, not in the way you're probably
thinking.  Tell me, how far would you be willing to go to make a few
bucks?"

Brenda's first impulse should have been to stand up and leave, but instead
she was interested in what Sheri had to say.  Besides, she had nowhere to
go.

"Anything," Brenda answered, "Except to get fucked by some jerk."

"What would you say if I could introduce you to something that pays very
well, doesn't involve getting fucked by a jerk, and you might enjoy?"

"I'd say that you were crazy," answered Brenda.

"Trust me," Sheri smiled when she replied.

"Besides, why should you want to help me, a total stranger?"

"Let's just say that I want to help someone in need," Sheri answered.

Sheri sat in her barstool and knocked back the remains of her drink. 
Placing the glass down on the counter, she looked directly at Brenda.

"How cynical you are.  I'll bet that working in New York City turned you
into one though broad.  How'd you like to use some of that anger to make a
few dollars?"

"Okay," answered Brenda, the vodka clouding her judgement, "I'm game."

"Good."

Sheri removed a pen and pad from her purse, and started writing.

"Got a car?" asked Sheri.

"Yes."

"Busy tonight?"

"Yes, I was going......"

"Cancel it.  Know Glen Cove?  I'll give you directions to my house.  Come
at nine, sharp. Have dinner, but no more drinks.  I want you sober.  Don't
worry about clothing, I'll provide everything.  Just be sure and wear high
heels or boots, in black."

"Yes, Sheri."

Brenda sat silently as Sheri handed her the direction to her house.  Then
Sheri pushed the stool away from the bar, and put her leather jacket on. 
She then ran her hands down her hips, smoothing her leather skirt.  Sheri
was tall for a woman, easily over six feet.  Much of her height was in her
legs, making her seem all the more attractive.  From the curves of her
behind to her bosom, Sheri was quite a beautiful woman.  Brenda reflected
that she was as tall as Sheri, something that she thought lay behind her
inability to find a job.  Nobody wanted a woman that could intimidate a
possible customer or client.

"See you at nine," said Sheri as she turned and clicked her heels as she
walked out of the bar.

Brenda sat on her stool, and thought to herself, Why Not?

Later that evening, Brenda stood at Sheri's front door.  She had been very
impressed with the rich community of Glen Cove, and marveled as she drove
to her destination through a winding road.  She gasped as she first saw the
house through the trees, illuminated by bright lights at every corner.

Sheri opened the front door, and welcomed Brenda inside.

"Good evening, nice to see that you could make it," greeted Sheri.

"Well, you certainly got my curiosity going," Brenda answered.

"That's the spirit.  Want to se the house?  We've got about an hour,"
offered Sheri.

"Sure."

Brenda was quite impressed with the house, and had to restrain herself
from complimenting her hostess too much.  She appreciated the bedrooms, and
the furniture.  Brenda marveled at the house, and wondered just what it was
that Sheri did that made it possible for her to afford such a house.

"Want to know why you're here?" asked Sheri.

"Sure," Brenda answered.

"Come then.  Let's go and get dressed."

Brenda followed Sheri down to the basement, where her hostess unlocked a
door.  This led to a series of rooms separate from the rest of the
basement.  Then Brenda gasped when she saw its contents after Sheri turned
on the lights.  Inside, hanging from open closets, were women's clothing
that she had only seen in magazines.  She identified clothes made of
leather, vinyl, and rubber.  There were only two colors, red and black.

"Don't tell me you've never seen anything like this before," said Sheri,
"You told me that you were in the rag trade, remember."

Suddenly, Brenda was brought back to her days on Seventh Avenue.  The
designers who would take on secret commissions from Dominants for their
outfits, for the fun of it rather than the money.

"Yes, you're quite right.  I have seen things like this before.  You're a
Dominant," stated Brenda.

When Brenda turned back to speak to Sheri, she found that her hostess was
naked.  While Brenda had been examining the outfits, Sheri had been
undressing.

"What are you waiting for?" asked Sheri, "Get naked and get dressed.  You
should be able to find something here that fits."

"Yes, Sheri," answered Brenda.

Brenda undressed in silence, finally rendering herself totally naked in
front of her hostess.  She had always felt self-conscious about her own
body, and never comfortable being naked in the presence of other women.

"Relax, I don't bite," said Sheri, "Now select something, and I'll help
you get into it."

"Why do you want to help me?" asked Brenda.

"Because you need the money, and my assistant left me.  I had a job
opening, and I wanted to help you out."

"Thank you," Brenda answered.

Sheri selected a vinyl catsuit in black that completely covered her from
her shapely legs to her wrists and collar.  Brenda watched in awe as Sheri
zipped herself up, then buckled a belt around her waist.  The outfit
accentuated all of her curves closely, making her seem even more
attractive.

"What are you waiting for?  A written invitation?" asked Sheri.

Flustered, Brenda hurried over to the racks.  She had never worn anything
like this before, and now she had to select something quickly.

Brenda chose a leather bra and skirt, in black, that matched her heels. 
Sheri helped her by closing her bra in back, and zipping her skirt.  Brenda
walked over to a mirror, and started to admire herself.

"You look wonderful," commented Sheri.

"Thank you," said Brenda, not certain of her new appearance.

"Let me get into my boots," said Sheri.

"I'll help."

Brenda bent down and assisted Sheri in putting on her boots.  They were a
matching vinyl to the catsuit, and reached almost to her crotch.  Brenda
pulled the zipper up gradually, wondering herself what it would be like to
wear such things herself.  Sheri pulled the tops up gently and then stood
up on her heels.

"Thanks," said Sheri. 	   	 

"You're welcome," answered Brenda, "Tell me, who are we going to
Dominate?"

"He's already here," laughed Sheri, "He's just soaking up the atmosphere
in the Dungeon."

"Dungeon?  You have a Dungeon?" asked Brenda, a look of astonishment on
her face.

"Every home should have one, along with a garage," chuckled Sheri.

"What do you want me to do?" asked Brenda.

"Follow my lead, let me do all the talking, hand me whatever I ask for,
listen and learn," replied Sheri, "And you might find yourself an
interesting and well paying job."

Walking behind Sheri, Brenda followed her hostess into another room, which
proved to be an actual Dungeon!  Below the elegant house was a room walled
in stone, from which hung all manner of things that Brenda had only seen in
pictures before.

Concealing her surprise, Brenda was even more amazed when she saw a naked
man, spread-eagled against one of the walls.  He was kept in place by
leather bracelets and chains, and a leather blindfold had cut off his
sight.

Sheri motioned for Brenda to accompany her over to the helpless captive. 
She walked behind Sheri in silence.

"Who's there?" he asked, their presence made known by the click of their
heels on the stone floor.

Sheri calmly walked over to him, making no effort to conceal her presence.
She remained silent, as she stood in front of him and reached out with her
hands to fondle his naked body.

Brenda had never been prudish about the human body except for her own. 
One couldn't work in the garment trade without seeing male and female
fashion designers work on half clothed or naked women as they created their
designs.  But there was something totally different about the way that
Sheri attended to her bound captive!

She started by grasping his shoulders firmly, then tracing his body
downwards with her fingertips.  Reaching his nipples, she grasped them
firmly, eliciting a moan from him.

"Silent, slave," ordered Sheri, "Or I'll really give you something to cry
about!"

"Yes, Mistress."

Sheri next drew her fingers downwards again, this time coming to his limp
penis.  She grabbed it firmly with the fingers of one hand, and began to
pull on it with gradually increasing firmness.  He began to respond to
Sheri's attentions, shifting within his bonds and making small sounds.

In time, his cock became erect.  The shaft stood out between his legs,
erect and ready for action.

Sheri then reached upwards and removed the blindfold.  The Dungeon was
fully lit, with more than adequate lighting.  He blinked several times in
the sudden light.

"Hello, slave Stuart," greeted Sheri, "Glad that you can see me again."

"Thank you, Mistress."

Brenda noted to herself that Stuart didn't appear to be the least
surprised to see two women in front of him, attired as they were.

"Slave Stuart, this is Brenda, my new assistant.  You will obey her as you
do me, understand?  Else you will be severely punished."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good. Just so that we understand each other.  Now what did I say about
that dick of yours?"

"Thank you didn't want it hard in your presence, Mistress."

"Then why is it hard!  Brenda, get me a riding crop, please," ordered
Sheri.

Brenda had been so fascinated by what she was seeing that she did not hear
her name when she was addressed.  Clothed as she was, in the company of a
Mistress and her slave, she failed to hear Sheri's request.

Sheri then promptly landed a swat into Brenda's behind, which stung
fiercely.  Brenda had not been spanked since childhood, and having one
planted on her bottom smarted.

"The next time that I ask for something, you had better jump and deliver
it," snarled Sheri.

"Yes, Mistress," Brenda quickly answered.

Brenda scurried over to the wall where she had seen implements hanging. 
Having ridden a horse before, she knew what a riding crop was, and removed
it.  She virtually ran back to Sheri's side, and handed it to the Mistress.

"That's better," began Sheri, "I demand complete obedience from my
assistants, as well as my slaves.  Do you understand, Brenda?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Good, now back to Stuart here.  You've been a bad boy, haven't you?  And
I'm here to put you in your place isn't that right?"

"Yes, Mistress," he quickly answered.

"That's better.  Now kiss the crop, Stuart," Sheri ordered.

Sheri ordered the crop to Stuart, and he began to kiss it lovingly, as if
it were the lips of a woman.  He kissed the leather wrapped handle, again
and again.

"Just because you're so good doesn't mean that you're going to get away
with not being punished," said Sheri.

When Brenda had ridden horses (an expensive sport) she had heard stories
of people who had used their crops on their boy and girlfriends, but she
had never believed it.

But when Sheri began to strike Stuart with the crop, Brenda was help
speechless by the event.  She was in awe of the fact that Sheri was using
the crop on a naked man's body, and he writhed under her punishment.

"That's better, Stuart."

Brenda noticed that while Stuart was being punished, it did appear that
Sheri was putting everything into it.  Was this just for show?  With summer
coming on, it would be rather inconvenient for Stuart to be walking around
marked by a riding crop.

"Thank you, Mistress," cried Stuart.

Sheri grabbed his cock, which was no longer erect.  It was now limp and
flaccid, no doubt caused by Sheri's punishment.

"That's better, Stuart.  Now, let's do something else.  Brenda, release
him."

Unlike the first order that she had been given, this time Brenda was alert
and ready when Sheri ordered her into action.  She quickly walked over to
Stuart's side, and discovered that he had been secured to the wall, like
those used on luggage.  He was wearing a kind of leather bracelet that had
projecting rings in the shape of a D.  She snapped them open, releasing him
from the wall.

"That's better, Brenda.  Things go much more smoothly when I get obeyed."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Stuart, I want you to show Brenda and myself just how you know I like to
be treated.  Or I'll use the crop on you again," threatened Sheri.

"Yes, Mistress."

Brenda noted that Stuart was quite an attractive man.  Tall, athletic,
well muscled, and already tanned, he was the sort of guy that any woman
would be interested in.  Instead, he knelt in front of Sheri and proceeded
to place his hands behind his back.  Then her bent over and began to kiss
and lick Sheri's vinyl boot!

Brenda was speechless and entranced by the sight of Stuart kissing Sheri's
boot.  She had not really known just what to expect what to expect tonight,
but this had exceeded all expectations!

Starting at her toe, Stuart slowly ran his tongue from the tip at the
front to the five-inch heel at the back.

"That's very good, Stuart.  Why don't you do the other one," ordered
Sheri.

"Yes, Mistress."

Stuart attended to Sheri's other leg as he had done the first.  Brenda
could see that he clearly was devoted to what he was doing.

Sheri stood straight, without speaking.  She held the crop in her hands,
flexing the leather-clad bamboo in her fingers.  She would occasionally
reach down to touch Stuart with the tip, which had the effect of making him
moan with pleasure and delight.

"Why don't you attend to Brenda?  I'm sure that she would like to have her
feet worshipped," ordered Sheri after quite some time.

"Yes, Mistress," answered Stuart.

Stuart walked on his knees over to Brenda.  He bent down and was soon
kissing the toes of Brenda's shoes.  Brenda had correctly guessed that she
would need stockings tonight, and she was wearing as garter belt with black
stocking.  The tops were just about the hem of her leather skirt, making
her legs look even more attractive.

Sheri reached over and handed the crop to Brenda.  Brenda took the handle,
and gradually traced its tip on Stuart's bare back as Sheri had done.  Each
time she did so, Stuart moaned with pleasure.

Brenda looked at Stuart, as if she meant to strike Stuart with the crop. 
Sheri mouthed the words "Okay" to her, and Brenda proceeded to strike
Stuart four times lightly.  Brenda enjoyed the feeling that it gave her.

"Enjoying yourself, Brenda?  Do you like having a man at your feet?"

"Yes, Mistress.  I do!" declared Brenda.

Hours later, after Stuart had left and they had changed into more normal
clothes again, Brenda and Sheri were sitting in the living room over a
couple of drinks.

"Ever do anything like this before?" asked Sheri.

"No, Mistress," answered Brenda.

"You can cut the mistress part for now.  That's for my slaves and clients.
Want to be one?"

Brenda was amazed by Sheri's question.  There was no doubt that she was
intrigued by the events here tonight, and she was wet with excitement when
Stuart licked her shoes and she struck him with the crop.

"In any event, this is for you," said Sheri as she passed over an
envelope.

Since it wasn't sealed, Brenda was startled when she saw that there was a
crisp new hundred inside.

"Is the position of assistant still open?" asked Brenda.

"I think that it's just been filled, don't you?" replied Sheri.

Brenda smiled and finished the rest of her drink.  Maybe this chance
meeting had changed her life for the better!

					THE END      


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