A young man sits alone in a pub, sipping quietly at a pint of beer as he awaits the arrival of his mates. He is deep in thought and fails to notice the attention he is getting from other drinkers. This attention is hardly surprising. After all, this boy has a very striking appearance that sets him apart from everyone else. He is wearing a loose fitting black pirate shirt adorned with lace and ribbons, along with a pair of skintight leather trousers tucked into huge, chunky goth boots. His dyed black hair reaches down just past his shoulders, pulled into a plait secured with a black velvet ribbon, and his eyes are heavily outlined with black kohl. Although many people stare, they get over it quickly, and the boy is soon forgotten about. Except by one person. A very glamorous middle aged woman stands alone at the bar, sipping daintily at a glass of red wine. She is also dressed in black; a long, figure hugging velvet dress with a slit up one side almost to the hip, revealing long legs encased in nylon stockings and stiletto heeled boots, as well as lace gloves to her elbows, and a beaded choker encircling her slender throat. Her eyes are heavily made up with dark colours, her lips are painted a deep, luscious red, and her long dark hair is worn down to frame her beautiful face. The boy is completely oblivious to his admirer, until she leaves her place at the bar to approach his table. He looks up at her in surprise, but can't help moving his eyes appreciatively over that tall, slim body. 'May I join you?' Her voice is unusually deep for a woman, but the boy finds he likes it. He casts a quick glance around the pub for any sign of his mates, but finding none, he smiles up at the woman in silent invitation. For a long while, the two sit there in silence, sipping their drinks and studying each other. The woman's stare is sharp, intent, and the boy finds himself growing aroused, but also a little afraid. She is very confident, and he senses that she is both strict and powerful. He feels his face getting hot, and takes a sip of his beer to try and calm himself. 'Are you afraid of me?' The woman's tone is mocking. She knows instinctively that the boy is terrified of her, and this pleases her. He can be moulded so easily, she thinks with a sly smile. He will make a perfect little pet. 'Answer me, boy,' she says sharply, placing her lace clad hand over his. He resists the urge to pull away, for some reason too scared to disobey her. 'I said, are you afraid of me?' 'No,' the boy replies, but he can't look her in the eye as he says it. 'You're lying to me.' It takes every shred of his willpower to look up at the intimidating woman. There is something in her stare that gives him a powerful twinge. As if she has noticed this, she lays a hand on his knee under the table and slides it up his thigh, right up to his cock, squeezing gently. He gasps sharply, and jumps as though he has been electrocuted. The woman laughs, cruel mockery mixed with delight and amusement. She has her prey right where she wants him now. 'Finish your drink,' she orders quietly. 'It's time we moved on.'