A Friday Evening Dinner
by Cuffmaster

The phone rings. It's him. He tells me to be ready at 7pm sharp. I always am. I check myself one last time in the mirror. Black dress with spaghetti straps, just above knee length. That ought to get his attention.

The doorbell rings. It's him. Right on time, as usual. He gives me the once over, smiles and takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom. He goes to the black case and opens it. He studies the content for a few minutes. I know he's looking for something special for me. After he decides, he calls me to him. I lift my wrists to him. He places a wide silver bangle bracelet on my right wrist and snaps the safety catch closed. He then places two thinner silver bangles on me. He completes it by placing on me an identical wide silver bracelet. Then he puts the same combo of bracelets on my left wrist. I smile, knowing how he enjoys this so.

For the icing on the cake, he goes to the brown case and removes two pairs of handcuffs. He places one pair of the handcuffs on me, hands in front, the cuffs placed in the middle of the 2 thinner bangles on each wrist. He takes the second pair of cuffs and cuffs himself to my left wrist. We both smile at each other and proceed to the car. Being cuffed like this, I have to get into the driver's side door and slide across the seat. Being cuffed like this hundreds of times before, we are expert at getting in without much hassle.

My handcuffed wrists follow his as he goes through the routine of starting the car. But before he starts the car, he leans across the seat so that our lips can kiss. My pulse races at the taste of his lips. He starts the car and we are off to dinner. He says that he has something special planned. I'm curious, but not overly. He tries to come up with different things to keep it exciting. We arrive at the restaurant and reluctantly he un cuffs us. He takes the cuffs and places them in his jacket pocket. He usually places them in the glove compartment so they are waiting for us when we are done, but this is not the first time I will eat being in handcuffs.

We walk into the restaurant. It's small, dark, romantic lighting and atmosphere. There are only five other couples there. The maitre d' takes us to a booth in the back. It's one of those half-curved booths with a long tablecloth around it. There is no one on either side of us. About as private as it can get. We sit together in the middle of the cushioned seat. The waiter takes our drink order and leaves. We look into each other's eyes again. This will happen a lot tonight. He reaches for my left wrist; holds my hand as he runs his across the bracelets, feels the smoothness of them.

He goes into his pocket and removes one pair of handcuffs. I willingly raise both my wrists in anticipation of being cuffed. He doesn't disappoint me. He places the cuffs in the center of my bracelets again. He takes out the second set of handcuffs and places one end on my left wrist. But he doesn't cuff the other end to himself as he usually does. He takes the cuff and places it under the table and cuffs it to something there. I am cuffed to the table. I can't get out. I love it. I lean into him and ask how did he know there was something there to cuff me to. He said that he was at this restaurant earlier in the week with a client for lunch. He accidentally dropped his fork on the floor. As he bent to retrieve it, he noticed a screw eye bolt in the table and instantly thought that this would be an ideal place to cuff me. So here I am.

I don't often get cuffed to things while we eat, but I trust him and just sit back to enjoy the feeling. Our hands touch under the table as he plays with the bracelets and cuffs on my wrists. He sees the waiter coming back with our drinks and menu. He accepts the drinks, places them on the table and takes just one menu. He asks the waiter for a few minutes for us to decide what to order. The waiter leaves to wait a discrete distance away. He puts his right arm around my shoulders and opens the menu in front of us. Being an exclusive restaurant, the menus are large and long. He raises the menu in front of us to sneak another kiss from me. Delicious.

He calls the waiter over after we have selected our meal and takes the menu back. Again, our hands touch under the table. We hold hands and whisper sweet nothings to each other. He notices the waiter headed from the kitchen and realizes that the appetizers are coming out. He removes the cuff on my right wrist so I can eat, but places the other end into the eyebolt. So here I sit two pairs of handcuffs hold me prisoner to our table. I just smile and accept it. I go through the appetizers and dinner still cuffed to the table.

After dinner, I mention to him that I need to powder my nose. Reluctantly, again, he uncuffs me from the table. He removes one pair of cuffs and places them in my bag. I smile knowing what he wants me to do. I take the bag and begin to get up. But before I do, I reach for his hand and place it in the handcuff still attached to the table. I say what's good for the goose is good for the gander, kiss his cheek and leave. I turn around to look at him as I leave. He smiles a mischievous smile that says payback is due. That's fine with me.

I finish up in the ladies room and look at myself in the mirror, making sure everything is looking ok. I checked before I came into the powder room to see if anyone else was there. Since was only one other couple in the restaurant left, I assumed I would be safe. I take the cuffs out of my bag and place them on my wrists. The way the light reflects of the silver bracelets and handcuffs is intoxicating. I close my eyes to imagine what he doing imagining me in her handcuffing myself. I like what I see. All too soon it's time to remove the cuffs and go back to our table.

As I get back, he looks at me, a question in his eyes. I shake my head yes and this huge smile appears on his face. As I sit back in my spot, I check to see if he is still cuffed to the table. He is. I take out the cuffs from my bag and cuff myself to the table along side his. We eat dessert cuffed to the table together; holding hands and running our hands over each other's handcuffed wrists. The waiter comes to the table, asks if there will be anything else, and leaves the check.

We un cuff each other from the table and get up to leave. I walk out before him. I gave him a little promise of what was to come by placing my hands behind my back and walking our like I was cuffed. I didn't see him, but just knew his mouth was wide open seeing me like this. We get to the car and hug for a few minutes. The cuffs reappear and are placed on my wrists again. We get into the car and I expect him to cuff himself to me. But he has other ideas. He cuffs me to the rearview mirror.

We drive home with both of us looking at my wrists, all bracelets and handcuffs. The site is breathtaking. As we pull up to the house, he uncuffs me. I'm disappointed. I want to stay cuffed. But I should have more trust. He cuffs my hands behind my back with both sets of cuffs. Well, you started it in the restaurant he says. We walk to my door, his arms around me, my head on his shoulder. He let's us in, closes the door and we kiss again, long and loving. He then sweeps me up in his arms and takes me into the bedroom.

The End

Copyright© 2012 by Cuffmaster. All rights reserved.