Chapter 4

“He hasn’t made any threats, and I’m embarrassed to say I like it. Is there something wrong with me? I mean. I’m getting off by letting a stranger tell me what to wear and putting myself on display for him. Have I become an exhibitionist?”

“No, a damn idiot. You do know the poses he is putting you in is how a submissive has to stand so she can be inspected by her Dom, don’t you?”

“Oooooh, I had no idea. I’d never thought about that before. But don’t you let Cameron tell you what to do in the bedroom? Aren’t we girls somewhat submissive and let the love of our life do what he wants in order to please him?”

“Maybe ... sure, I let Cameron have his way with me, and yes, I do things for him, but we’re married and in love. That’s the difference. You’re single and not in a relationship, especially with this pervert. What if he wants more and asks you to do other things for him? Will you do them?”

“I would love to know who he is, and I’m enjoying what he is doing. It gets me excited, you know. I haven’t climaxed, but my nipples are hard, and my panties are wet when I’m doing this stuff, so yeah, I think I would do other things if he asked me to.”

“What if he wants to come into your house and touch you? Have sex with you. Would you allow that? Aren’t you scared that someone is out there watching you?”

“Yeah, I’m shit scared, definitely curious, and he’s turning me on. I want to do more for him. It’s only a matter of time before we meet, and I feel safe in my house with my doors locked.”

“You can’t be serious. You’re one sick puppy. First, you tell me you’re shit scared. Then you tell me he’s turning you on and want more. Jeez, girl. Be fucking careful. It’s your life, and I hope you know what you are doing. But he’s controlling you, and you don’t know him. It’s not like Cam and me. Please be careful, please.”

After my five nights of being on display, life returned to normal. No surprise packages or letters, and no one following me, at least not that I knew of. Strangely, I felt disappointed and let down by the lack of attention. I wanted my stranger back in my life. Deep down, I missed him. I wanted to know who he was and what his motives were.

One of the guys who works in menswear had been giving me the eye, and my overactive mind immediately thought, is he my stalker? While standing in a queue waiting to buy lunch, I got a strange feeling that someone was watching me and the person behind me was standing too close. Did that someone touch my arse? Was it an accident? Was my stalker behind me? I froze until the guy behind me said, “Hey, Tara, get along. The queue has moved.”

I was startled but relieved after recognising the voice and spun around. It was Gareth from menswear. “Oh, Gareth, you gave me a fright.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you. I thought you were going to move with the queue and move forward. I’m sorry that I startled you.”

I was troubled, and now I’m overthinking everything. People were looking at me. Was one of them my stalker? Gareth spoke up. “You look a little shaky. Can I buy you lunch, possibly sit together and chat?”

“Sure. I’d like that.”

Over lunch, Gareth asked me for a date the following night, going out to dinner, then followed by dancing. It suited me perfectly as after work, the next day was the start of my four-day break. “Shall I pick you up at seven?” Gareth asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be ready and waiting. Let me give you my address.”

“It’s okay. I know where you live.”

“What! You know where I live? How the fuck do you know that? Have you been stalking me, following me?”

“Hey. Don’t go off at me like that, and stalking, what’s that all about?”

“I’m sorry, Gareth, I’m a bit jumpy. I’ve had a few bad experiences lately. But I want to know how you know where I live?”

“Sorry, but I asked Sam. I told her I wanted to ask you for a date and asked for your address. There’s nothing sinister in that, is there?”

“When did you ask her, and why did you use the word sinister?”

“Tara, please calm down. I’m sorry if you’re having a bad time ... Please believe me, it wasn’t me, and if I have offended you, I’m sorry. I like you and want to take you out. I asked Sam yesterday for your address, and again, I’m sorry if the word sinister troubled you. Look, forget about the date. I didn’t think you would go off the deep end at me.”

What’s wrong with me? Gareth is considerate and sincere and wants to take me out. Yet I’m as jumpy as a cat on a hot tin roof in summer. “I’m so, so sorry for biting your head off. It’s something I have to get over. Can we please still have our date, please? But I can’t dance.”

“Yeah, sure, we can still have a date, and as a treat, I’ll teach you how to dance. No problem.”

“Thank you so much.”