He saw her first; she recognized him staring. Parallel memories reprised when she had loved him, possessed him, and, ultimately, discarded him. His tie removed, she saw the leather band beneath his collar that showed he was bound. That and his stunned look of worship woke something inside her. Pushing her carry-on bag to him, she turned to walk towards the parking lot shuttle. He followed.
A decade earlier, she had been more angry and demanding and less confident and self-aware. She had luxuriated in his tribute, subservience, and pain. Today, she was happy with the less-extreme adoration of her husband, who no doubt waited with flowers and the kids asleep to relieve the stress of this business trip.
Only after years of debasement did he recover. His mistress now provided the structure he needed. He was eager to recount the moderate success of this trip, but mostly to return to the comfort of her control. Those intentions were derailed when he saw her. As if by a deep, post-hypnotic trigger, he fell under her spell.
She stepped off the bus and he grabbed their bags, the wheels noisy on the asphalt. Her glance made him pick up and carry them. A successful businesswoman, employees and vendors strived to fulfill her expectations. Yet the power she wielded over this one man aroused her. Planlessly, she led him to her car.
He knew he should have ignored her in the terminal. He knew he should turn and walk away now. He saw possibilities: begging her to take him back, delivering her bag and departing, rushing home to confess the incident, and multiplying variations. Considering them all overwhelmed him, leaving only the strongest compulsion—to do whatever she wished.
In the darkness, bright puddles formed beneath regularly spaced lights. There were surveillance cameras. A car or another traveler or a circling bus might arrive at any moment. The flash of a phone could end her career and marriage. She popped the trunk and he stowed her bag. When he reached to open the door for her, she locked it, then began unbuttoning his shirt.
He shuddered as she touched him; her familiar perfume was like a time machine. In shadow, his eyes fixed on the reflected light in hers, screaming his neverending love and devotion, searching for any sign that she would accept his obeisance once more.
Like many of her decisions, it had arrived without deliberation; her intuition made what seemed like whims into resolute actions. Removing his suit coat and shirt, she dragged a finger along the choker. She squatted in front of him and yanked his pants and underwear to his ankles.
This was wrong! In the entangling web of possibilities he had imagined, this was not one. Through their years together, she would never have done this. His dick was swollen from the excitement of seeing her and the fantasy that she might reclaim him; it sprang to stiffness when exposed to the night air, inches from her mouth. He wanted to shout his protest, but her face looking up at him invoked his well-trained silence.