Mistress and I were in a coffee shop for lunch,. Mistress picked out a tuno mayo roll and pointed to a flapjack. She also asked me to get her an elderflower flavoured drink and then walked off to find a table, leaving me to order the food and drinks and pay. I bought myself a cheese and tomato roll, fresh cream scone and black coffee.
I took the food and drinks to the table and laid everything out and then sat down to eat. Mistress, though just stared at her roll then said in the most haughty voice: “Did you get me a knife to cut this roll?”
“I didn’t see any,” came my response between chewing on my food.
“That’s ridiculous, they must have knives. They didn’t have any? I don’t believe you.”
And with that Mistress got up and went in search of a knife.
She came back in seconds,brandishing a knife and said, “I cannot believe you could have imagined that a café would not have a knife to cut food. Did you even ask?”
Mistress was talking loud enough for everyone in the small café to hear and, I felt mself h with embarrassment.
“Well did you?”
I looked at her and saw, ‘the look’. “No Mistress,” I said in the quietest voice possible, hoping no one would hear my submissive response – but also hoping Mistress would quell her strident tones.
“And where is my chocolate cake,” she continued raising her voice even louder.
“Chocolate cake? You said you wanted flapjack.”
“I did not,” she replied indignantly. “I pointed to the flapjack thinking you might like it. I asked for chocolate cake.”
It simply wasn’t true. I hadn’t misheard her. By now I wasn’t just embarrassed, I was getting angry and boiling inside. I was ready to just walk out of the café and leave this stroppy woman in the café.
I would have done just that in my former life and probably sulked for several days. But instead I sat there, not touching my own food, red in the face and wondering what had happened. We had been enjoying a great day out, just wandering around the shops. I told myself to calm down and picked up my food and began to eat. By now Mistress had finished hers, and pushed the plate to one side.
“Right, now you can go and get me some chocolate cake and a pot of tea. Now!”
This wasn’t a polite request. This was an order and suddenly, the penny dropped. She wasn’t at all angry or being awkward, she was playing out a role we normally reserve for the privacy of our own home.
My emotions went from anger and embarrassment to a flutter in my stomach and a twinge further down. It was a rather exciting moment to realise what was going on.
I set my food aside again and meekly went to order her cake and tea. I came back with it on a tray and stood at the table.
“Your afternoon tea Mistress,” I said, this time loud enough for others to hear.
“That’s better,” Mistress said, barely acknowledging my presence. “You can sit down down now.”
We didn’t discuss the incident there, but in the car on the way home I asked Mistress what happened in the coffee shop.
“It was a little test,” she said. “I wanted to see how you would react.” And then she changed the subject.
I must say I had been surprised how Mistress suddenly switched from enjoying the shopping trip to being so stern but that’s her prerogative and, if it happens again, I’ll be ready for it. I’m certainly delighted if she’s happy to make our flr a little more public.
If it was a test I’d have like to know how I performed. I know you better behaved subs out there and experienced dominant ladies will rightly criticise me for even allowing myself to become angry in the first place – and point out that I should be ready and willing to serve at any time - but I was caught by the changed in mood. Once I allowed the authority of Mistress wash over me it was quite a delightful experience and I enjoyed acting the role of ‘maid’, taking her tea and cake to the table.
I wonder if anyone in the coffee shop realised the dynamic of our relationship or just shrugged their shoulders and said, ‘guess who wears the trousers in that household.’
Or maybe there was a couple in there with a knowing smile on their faces thinking, ‘I wonder how she’ll punish him when she gets him home….’