We finally come to the last Sunday in April, leaving me with no logical choice but Mark and Chelsea’s meet cute. I thought a lot about this one this month and honestly, I don’t know that I’m any closer to what to do with it than when I started. It’s a shame, since the proposal scene Hallmark starts with actually is a meet cute, but I can’t just repost that. I’ll put a longer note explaining some things at the end, but for now, enjoy one way that Mark and Chelsea maybe could’ve met, in some universe.
~Richard
subadubdub69: *kneels* I’m so excited for tonight, Sir.
MakerMark: *smirks* Sure you’re not scared?
subadubdub69: A little. But that makes it fun.
MakerMark: I assume you’ll be wearing the outfit I picked out for you earlier.
subadubdub69: Yes, Sir.
MakerMark: I’ll have a red scarf on. I’ll probably spot you first, but just in case. I’ll finish getting ready and see you soon, pet.
subadubdub69: I can’t wait, Sir.
Chelsea signed off of AIM and took a deep breath. She was finally going to meet Him. Besides the scarf, she had no idea what he looked like. Well, that wasn’t quite true. Creamy white skin and (if the carpets matched the drapes) dark brown hair. They’d been IMing for most of the semester when she responded to his Craigslist post and decided they couldn’t go away from winter break without meeting face-to-face. Thanksgiving break had been hell. Back in her tiny room at her parents’ house, trying to follow all his orders with them on top of her all the time. Sir had been even more demanding than usual, probably because he had more free time. Her nipples ached as she remembered the day she’d been stuck with binder clips on for half an hour due to an unplanned mother-daughter lunch date.
Bonnie, her roommate, had already left for the semester, leaving her free to lounge around naked with all her toys on the bed. Sir ordered her to wear a buttplug (she’d recently worked up to being able to keep the 3 incher in for a prolonged period of time), a white button-down shirt (no bra, but the material was just thick enough), a small silky red scarf (not quite a collar…) and a short pencil skirt (no panties either). They’d watched Secretary “together” (synced up over Skype) for a first date, and he’d teased her about being his sexretary ever since. Next to the clothes was a length of black rope. She’d learned to tie a simple harness around her hips that framed her cunt beautifully. She blushed at the thought of him checking it at the restaurant. Fighting the urge to rub one out before the date, she did her makeup (slut-red lipstick as He called it), hair (a single pony in the back for Him to hold), tied the harness, popped in the plug (with a moan), and put on the outfit. She was lucky it hadn’t snowed. He’d left her footwear at her discretion, knowing she didn’t have a car on campus and would have to walk the half mile in whatever she picked.
She picked a pair of 3 inch heels in black. High enough to make her ass look great and show her dedication, but not so bad that she’d be forced to crawl before He ordered it.
She slipped a long black coat over all of it and headed out of her dorm room. No one was in the hallway. Probably for the best. The other girls on the floor would have something to say about her slipping out right before break in this outfit.
The elevator ride down the eight floors seemed to take forever, and she rubbed her thighs together, trying to keep her dripping cunt under control. How was she going to make it through dinner without staining the chair?
Finally, she made it down, out the front door (waving as casually as she could at the desk RA), and down the hill into town. The wind teased her bare legs at the bottom of her coat. How cold would it be tonight? It wouldn’t matter. There was only one place she intended to be after dinner, and that was His bedroom. Visions of whips, chains, wax, and gags kept her occupied, and she barely even realized she was standing in front of the cafe. She slid out of the coat so he would be able to see her and stepped inside. Someone was sitting near the back in a black sweater and red scarf. Her heart stopped when she saw him, and her jaw dropped. His eyes showed almost the same, but he stood up and waved her over.
“Mark? Is that you? Are you?” she walked back to the table and grabbed onto it as her legs turned to jelly.
“Chelsea? I thought you gave me a fake name! I can’t believe it.”
She nodded slowly.
“Sit down,” he said, and the subby part of her brain buzzed and put her ass in the chair before she could think about it.
“So, just to be clear, you’re MakerMark?”
He nodded. “And you’re subadubdub69?”
“Yeah,” she said, the screenname taking away some of the awkwardness. She tried to tack a Sir on at the end, but her tongue didn’t quite get there.
“I can’t believe I spent the last three months cybering with a girl who sat three seats behind me in senior pre-calc.”
“I… yeah… this is weird…”
He gave her a little smirk, one that made her forget all about tangents and back to the nights she’d stayed up late hurting herself for him.
“Well, let’s discuss it over dinner. Don’t order too heavy, though. I still plan to take you back with me when we’re finished.”
Chelsea nodded and picked up the menu. “I’d like that. Sir.”
Like I said, I spent a lot of time thinking about how Mark and Chelsea would’ve met. I don’t think I formally established it earlier in Hallmark, but I’ve given just enough details to make it annoying. Long story short, they’re kind of boxed in by the ages I put them at earlier in the story, which has them together in high school but broken up early in college. Not only does that put me in the kind of weird position of having to write BDSM smut about possible minors (and where are they going to get money for toys and outfits and parties!?) it also leaves me with a fairly short timespan to cram it all into. How is Chelsea supposed to be this super experienced sub when she’s only had one Dom, and probably only for a few months at that?
In the end, I decided to push the whole thing up, have them meet in college and stay together for at least a couple years, and then let them fumble around and reunite in their early to mid-thirties. I imagine them around that age anyway, so it’s not a huge change. I think I like this scene, or a variant of it, as the way they first “meet” and if I ever do a “clean” version of the story, I’ll work it in. Thanks to everyone who followed along this month. If any of you are new from AtoZ, I hope you’ll stick around for the continuing adventures of Chelsea, Mark, Arnie, Hannah, and all the rest. I just realized all but one of the stories was a Mark-Meet-Cute, and I kind of regret not finding a way to make that last one work. Oh well. I’m not sure what’s coming next week. Part of me wants to get back to the main story, but both this one and Mark and Hannah ended on a fun little cliffhanger themselves that I could probably wrap up in a week or two. Drop a comment if you care, otherwise we’ll all find out next week!
J R Vincente 