Chapter 2: Renewed Friendship

Our conversation over lunch is pleasant and relaxing. Other than Sarah-Anne’s steel collar and cuffs, our reunion is no different from any other group of friends meeting together over lunch. Pete is quite open about his arrangement with Sarah-Anne, although I sense I’m not being told everything. Sarah-Anne had said earlier that she was Pete’s landlady, but that doesn’t fully describe their arrangement. She owns the house, and Pete pays her rent for the master bedroom and the shared use of the bathroom, kitchen and living room. In that respect she is his landlady. But their relationship is far more than a simple tenancy arrangement. Both say they are not lovers, but they admit that they sometimes engage in physical sex together. Both admit that Sarah-Anne is Pete’s willing slave. There are dark sexual overtones to their relationship. It’s a curious arrangement which leaves me wanting to know more.

Time passes quickly and it’s mid-afternoon when Pete suggests that perhaps it’s time to leave. We’re the last lunchtime customers, and I suspect the restaurant staff are wanting to prepare for a busy evening ahead. Pete accepts my money for my share of the bill, and he leaves Sarah-Anne and I alone for a moment. While he’s gone, Sarah-Anne reaches down into the bag at her feet. After a bit of rummaging through the contents, she produces a key to unlock the padlocks holding the chain between her ankles. She drops the short chain into her bag and produces a longer chain which she padlocks to the ring on her collar. I simply sit there dumbfounded.

Pete returns to the table after settling the bill, and Sarah-Anne offers the loose end of the chain to him. Surely he isn’t going to take her out of the restaurant on a lead? But that is obviously what’s about to happen.

“I think Jenny deserves the privilege, Sarah,” says Pete, amused at my puzzled face. Without hesitation Sarah-Anne offers the end of the chain to me. I remain frozen, torn between horror and some other more pleasant emotion which I can’t identify on the spur of the moment.

“I can’t walk you out of here like a dog,” I say. “Not in daylight. Not in public.”

“So you would lead Sarah by a chain if it was dark and we were somewhere less public,” observes Pete.

“That’s not what I meant,” I reply defensively.

“Sarah told me about the games you two used to play,” laughs Pete. “Pirates and captured princesses, and the like.”

That’s unfair! We were twelve years old, and into all sorts of adventurous kids games. Yes, OK, Sarah-Anne always liked to be the captured princess, while I was the cruel pirate. I tied her up on several occasions, but I never thought anything more about it. I suppose on reflection, Sarah-Anne did enjoy being tied up, and the tighter her bonds the better. But those games came to an end once we started getting interested in the opposite sex. They were definitely not the sort of games you played with adolescent boys.

My hesitation in taking the offered chain is in danger of attracting the restaurant staffs’ attention. I look at Sarah-Anne, whose eyes are downcast in what I can only describe as a submissive posture.

“Is this going to be OK with you?” I ask Sarah-Anne.

“Yes. It’s what I want, Mistress Jennifer.”

Her reference to me as Mistress Jennifer sends a strange jolt through my system. Shock mixed with a strange thrill. I take the end of the chain and follow Pete out of the restaurant, towing Sarah-Anne a few paces behind me. If the restaurant staff notice the chain, then they don’t show any reaction.

The weather has turned nasty. That shouldn’t have been a surprise to me since I noted the gathering clouds during my run this morning. But in my haste to meet Pete and Sarah-Anne for lunch, I left my raincoat at home. I could ring mum and dad and ask one of them to come and fetch me, but that would damage my pride in my increasingly independent life. I still live at home, but I’m allowed to more or less come and go as I please. Except Sunday afternoons, when I’m expected to spend ‘family time’ at home. It’s an arrangement which works remarkably well. The only concession I must allow for their peace of mind, and my own security, is to allow them to track my whereabouts through my phone. I don’t know how actively they monitor my whereabouts, but I’m never anywhere that I’m not happy for them to know about. My quasi-independent life means I must do my own laundry, and meals are only provided if I say beforehand that I’ll be home to eat ... which isn’t often during the week as I tend to eat at university with my friends.

Pete and Sarah-Anne are better prepared for the downpour. When Pete sees that my lightweight jacket is no match for the weather, he suggests that we go round to ‘their’ house until the weather eases. Sarah-Anne’s house is only a few minutes walk away, while mine is a forty minute walk, or two bus rides taking almost as long. I accept his offer despite my qualms about what else I might discover about their living arrangements.

Sarah-Anne’s raincoat, and the pouring rain, at least partly hides the chain by which Sarah-Anne allows herself to be led. I’m too busy trying to keep dry to be self-conscious about my part in the scene. We soon arrive at Sarah-Anne’s house and I release Sarah-Anne’s chain while we shed our wet coats. I do my best to dry my top and skirt which my thin jacket failed miserably to protect. We go into the living room which is clean and tidy ... something it never was when Sarah-Anne was at college. Pete invites me to sit down on the couch, while he sits in the chair. Sarah-Anne kneels on the rug by the fire.

Before we can continue our lunchtime discussion, Pete notices that there’s a message on the answerphone. It’s from his brother Greg, reminding Pete to call round to his place this afternoon. Pete decides that he had best go at once, although I suspect he really wants to give Sarah-Anne and I more time alone. Throughout our time together today, Pete has seemed anxious that Sarah-Anne and I renew our friendship. I’m willing enough, but Sarah-Anne’s feelings on the subject are less clear. It means revealing more about her relationship with Pete, and I’m not certain how ready she is to do that. Pete exchanges phone numbers with me before leaving with a promise to catch up with me over the next few days if he doesn’t see me later on today.

“It’s great to see you again,” I say to Sarah-Anne when she shows no sign of initiating a conversation. “And you are looking so well.”

“Thank you, Mistress Jennifer,” replies Sarah-Anne. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Why do you call me ‘mistress’?” I ask, slightly shocked by her continued use of the term. “We are friends, Sarah-Anne. You don’t need to call me mistress.”

“But I do, don’t you see,” replies Sarah-Anne.

“No, I don’t see,” I say quietly. “Is it because Pete calls you his slave and keeps you locked in a collar and cuffs?”

“Pete is my dom,” replies Sarah-Anne. “My master, if you prefer that term. But he isn’t the one who makes me wear these restraints. I’m the one who chooses to wear them. I can remove them at any time, but I only do so when I take a shower. Pete has helped me to discover what I need to do to overcome my bad emotions and be happy. And being someone’s slave really works for me. Yes, I know it’s slightly kinky, and Pete isn’t always comfortable with me being his slave. Our relationship sometimes interferes with his work. It took him a while before he was able to order me about and tell me what to do and when. He only does so because he’s a good friend and it’s what I want him to do. I would like you to do the same. I want to be your slave as much as Pete’s slave. I need to call you Mistress Jennifer and for you to think of me as your obedient slave. You can even call me ‘Slave’ if you like.”