“Wake up sleepy head.”
His voice startled her into wakefulness. Her eyes blinked against the intense blue sky beyond her windows.
“Huh,” she mumbled, struggling to remember where she was and why she was being forced to wake up from such a wonderfully comfortable bed.
Then it all came rushing back to her. She clapped the sheet against her, sitting up in bed. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I fell asleep like that last night.”
He laughed softly. “No worries. It was a very intense day. Sleep was probably the best, and most appropriate thing.”
“But, but, I didn’t… I mean you didn’t have a chance to…”
“Truly, no worries. I was very happy. The greater part of my joy in making love comes from being able to take you exactly to the place you were last night. For me, there’s true satisfaction in crafting your journey, to go exactly where I want to take you. And never fear, as you grow… stronger in the ways of kinkdom, I will insist that more of my needs are attended to.” He chuckled, “There will be times, indeed, when we may be out and about – I’ll just stop the car, bend you over the hood, lift up your dress, and take you right there, just for the hell of it. I won’t ask. I won’t care if you come or not. I’ll just take you.”
He grinned, “I like all sorts of different approaches and moods.”
Melissa felt a sudden rush of arousal as he spoke. It was disorienting. She was not used to being so instantly horny when waking up.
He noted her reaction and continued, “It seems like you do too. Anyway, breakfast is in a half hour.”
He crossed to her closet and rummaged around briefly, returning with a small bundle of clothes and a pair of sneakers. “Here’s some workout clothes for this morning.”
Before she could think of a response, he left. The door clicked softly shut behind him.
Looking around the room, she ran a hand through her hair, certain she was an absolute mess. Spotting her bedside clock, she saw it was a little after six. She muttered angrily to herself, “No wonder I’m so fucking groggy. Never get up this early.” She tried to remember when the personal trainer would be here. The woman’s name was equally fuzzy in her memory. Melissa hoped she would remember it before the trainer arrived.
Having someone whose job it was just to help her workout felt very weird to Melissa. “Besides,” she said indignantly to the empty room, “I’m in good shape.” She dropped the sheet she had been holding up and looked down at herself. Sitting slumped in bed, however, had emphasized the slight pudge at her waist, turning it into a roll of flesh. She gave an exasperated sigh and slid angrily out of bed, stalking to the bathroom.
Waking up early was never one of her favorite activities.
Once she had finished with the toilet and showering, she worked her hair back in a damp ponytail, then walked back to her bed to look at the exercise outfit that Erik had chosen for her. Now that she was finally awake, she realized that the clothes and shoes were new, or at least they weren’t anything that she had brought with her.
She picked up the sneakers. They were feather-light, and the uppers were made of a stretchy, soft leather. She checked the size. It was her size. She snorted, deciding that she’d have to remember that Erik could be a tricky bastard. He definitely had read her shoe size when he’d handed her sneakers to her back on… Friday? Their first date seemed so long ago. It was hard to believe today was only Monday.
She set down the shoes and picked up the work-out clothes. It was a suspiciously small pile. On top was a perfectly serviceable sports bra. It had woven seamless cups that looked to be the right size. She was relieved that she wasn’t expected to be bouncing around topless as she exercised. That wouldn’t have been fun.
The bottom, however, was more abbreviated. It was basically a sports thong. She had seen women at the gym who wore them over the top of tights and a leotard, but that was not going to be the case here. “Oh well,” she muttered to herself, “the job description did say ‘sex slave.’”
Pulling on the clothes, she stepped over to the mirror to see how they fit. The top was perfect and surprisingly comfortable. The bottom, however, sliced right across her small bulge of waistline pudge, making her very self-conscious. She tried rolling it down, but that only made things worse. Then she tried dragging the waistline up higher, but the sports spandex was too stiff.
“Arrg! Trust a guy to get something I’d never buy. It makes me look fat, and stupid, and, and… aw shit. He’s getting what he’s buying. I don’t have to look at me.”
She grabbed the sneakers and footie socks off the bed, sitting angrily down on the floor to put them on.
Leaving her room, she walked quietly down the dark hallway, hesitating at the entrance to the main space. Something smelled good for breakfast. She spotted Erik sprawled in a chair down on the living room level. He was barefoot, wearing a white camp shirt and a pair of worn jeans. “No tight spandex for him,” she mused. He had a mug of coffee balanced on the arm of his chair. He seemed to be reading news on a tablet. Some sort of light classical music was playing.
Beyond the sweep of the living room windows, she could see the deep shadows and bright highlights cast by an early morning sun across the meadow, clearly showing the undulating terrain as it sloped down to the stream. The forest on the far side of the stream looked dark and primeval.
For the first time, she noticed how the flagstone floor of the living area matched the flagstone of the patio, as well as the stone sitting wall beyond the windows. She was taken aback to realize that even the throw rugs in the living area somehow evoked the colors and curves of the meadow, stream, and woods, without being overly literal. “This,” she thought, “is how the rich live… complete, of course, with his very own real, live sex slave.”
Looking around the main space again, the red-brown wood of the interior reflected a warm glow from the dawning day beyond the windows. The setting, she decided, was too beautiful for her to stay in a bad mood.
As she studied the scene further, she realized that even though the house was both astonishingly beautiful and comfortable, there was also an exactness to it that felt a little distant and unobtainable. She realized the house and its owner made a good match.
Clearing her throat discreetly, she walked into the dining area. Erik turned from his reading, a smile broadening across his face. “You are such an amazingly beautiful woman. It is a joy to have you in my home.”
Melissa knew she was blushing. He could say things that caught her so off guard, it took her breath away. What made it worse is that there had been no artifice in his voice. She was convinced that he had simply said what he felt the moment he had looked up to see her.
She thought to herself, “How the fuck do I respond to that?”
She smiled back and said, “Good morning.”
Inside, she angrily told herself, “Oh that was fucking brilliant.”
He rose smoothly up out of his chair, grabbing his coffee mug as he headed up the steps to the kitchen/dining level. He asked, “Do you like coffee, tea, whatever in the morning?”
She hesitated.
He stopped at the top of the steps and cocked his head at her. Then he ventured, “Diet cola?”
She nodded guiltily.
“One diet Coke, coming up. I also made some oatmeal, along with fresh biscuits. There’s butter and jam on the table. Do you want any oatmeal?”
“Ah, sure.”
“I don’t know what sort of breakfast you usually like, but you’ll probably want something simple and energy packed. A session with Mistress Amy can be somewhat… intense. Not the sort of thing to do right after a big breakfast of bacon, eggs, and pancakes.”
She thought to herself, “Amy! That’s her name.” Continuing aloud, she said, “I’m not a big breakfast sort of girl. Most mornings, I just grab a piece of toast with peanut butter, if that.”
“Okay,” he said, bringing over a bowl of oatmeal and a covered basket of biscuits. While he went back to get her soda and his bowl of oatmeal, she lifted the cover from the basket. The smell of fresh baked bread wafted up to her, making her mouth water.
She dug out a hot biscuit, suddenly aware of how hungry she was. “So that was the wonderful smell when I came in.”
He came back to join her. “I have to warn you, though, I use a whole wheat white flour. I try to stay away from simple carbs, you know, white flour, white sugar, that stuff.”
She nodded, taking a buttered bite from a biscuit. “That’s delicious.”
“My grandparent’s cook grew up in the South. She taught me the recipe. I think she said it came from her grandmother’s great aunt. Back then, I’m sure the shortening was lard.” He laughed. “Probably tasted even better.”
“So what, you trying to fatten me up?”
“Oh, I think Mistress Amy will take care of that. She has a somewhat… unique approach. And it’s surprisingly effective.”
“Sounds a bit intimidating.”
After breakfast, he took her to the exercise studio. It was in one of the smaller buildings strung out along the brow of the hill. A walking path started on the far side of the entry courtyard, then wound past buildings nestled into the side of the hill. The path was made of the same smooth paving stones as the courtyard, feeling as though it was a narrower continuation of the entry road, wrapping partway around the hill.
As they walked, they passed two beautiful small courtyards. She noted that some of the smaller structures were on different levels, as the path split apart to follow the sloping hill. There seemed to be about a half dozen buildings in all, none of them very large, but the sum total made a huge house for one man.
He gestured at a couple of the buildings as they passed, pointing out his workshop, a guest house, and a potting shed. The path ended in a larger courtyard, overlooking the stream valley below. On the far side was a tidy-looking house, tucked in behind a very British-looking garden, with half-height walls and a gate separating it from the courtyard.
Erik waved at the house, “That’s where Mrs. Grady and Chuck live.” Melissa suddenly felt self-conscious about walking around in a spandex thong.
Erik turned to the left, toward a stone and wood structure that was set into the rising slope of the hill, forming the back side of the courtyard. The structure was lined with windows looking across the courtyard and stream valley beyond. Through the reflective finish of the windows, she could vaguely make out the outlines of some exercise equipment inside.
Erik continued, “And here’s where we’ll meet Mistress Amy. You’d do well to only call her ‘Mistress’ or ‘Mistress Amy.’ She’s a more… exacting dom than I am. Well, ‘dominatrix’ is actually the term she prefers. In any case, remember ‘yellow light’ and ‘red light.’ If you don’t understand something or it seems wrong, don’t be afraid to use them. Especially ‘yellow light.’ It just means you’re calling a time out to discuss what’s going on.”
Before Melissa could respond, a door in the building opened. A compact, dark-haired woman walked out to greet them. She was dressed very similarly to Melissa, including a spandex thong. “Ah, here’s Mistress Amy now,” Erik said.
As the dark-haired dominatrix stopped in front of them, Melissa couldn’t help thinking to herself, “At least I’m not the only one with my butt cheeks hanging out.” Seeing Mistress Amy close up, Melissa realized that she was Eurasian. At about five foot, two inches, the exercise trainer seemed compact, rather than petite. While Mistress Amy was extremely well toned, Melissa was happy to see that she wasn’t a muscle-bound Amazon.
Erik introduced them. “Mistress Amy, this is my new slave, Melissa. Thank you for agreeing to help with her training and physical conditioning.” Amy nodded, remaining silent. Then she walked around Melissa, carefully appraising her in the morning light. Melissa wasn’t certain if she was intimidated by Amy’s scrutiny, or angry.
Returning to her starting point, Amy stared thoughtfully at Melissa a little longer, before turning to Erik and saying, “Okay, I can work with her. It’ll be a few weeks before she’s in anything like decent shape, but it’s a reasonable starting point.”
Erik nodded to Amy, then turned to touch Melissa’s arm. “I’ll leave you to your fate. Have fun.”
Melissa struggled to think of a snappy rejoinder, but Erik was out of sight before anything came to her. She turned her attention back to Mistress Amy, who was still regarding her coolly. Amy nodded once and turned on her heel. As she walked back to the exercise studio, she said, “Come,” in the same tone as commanding a dog.
Quelling her resentment, Melissa followed, thinking, “Oh this is going to be ever so much fucking fun.”
Inside, Mistress Amy motioned her over to a scale and instructed her to remove her clothes and shoes. With a grimace, Melissa complied. Mistress Amy tapped on the face of a small data pad while she waited. Once Melissa was naked, Mistress Amy pointed to the scale and Melissa stepped up on it. Looking around, she couldn’t see any display on the scale, but she realized that her weight had already registered on Mistress Amy’s data pad. Twisting her head to read the display, Melissa was exasperated to see that she was up another two pounds. She reminded herself that getting the lowest possible reading was why she always weighed herself before breakfast, not after.
Mistress Amy next measured her height, which again appeared automatically on the pad’s screen. Melissa was happy to see that at least she was still 5’7.” It made her feel better that she was so much taller than Mistress Amy and her bossy attitude.
Then Mistress Amy took out a tape measure and started measuring all around her body: legs, arms, and torso. When she got to Melissa’s bust, Mistress Amy asked, “Those real?” Melissa was so surprised by the abruptness of the question that she didn’t immediately answer.
Mistress Amy asked in a slower, more measured voice, “Do you have breast implants?”
“No!” Melissa blurted out indignantly. “They’re all me.”
Mistress Amy seemed unhappy with the strength of Melissa’s answer, as well as her general attitude. Mistress Amy continued asking questions, “You on birth control?”
“Yes,” said Melissa, with rising frustration. “And I’ve had my HIV vaccine, plus booster, and the full course of vaccines for Herpes/Varicella, Hep A, B, and C, and HPV. I’m clean.”
“Okay.” Mistress Amy tapped a few more boxes on her screen. “What birth control do you use?”
“The pill.”
“Do you know which brand, what it’s called?”
“Triesterin, I think.”
“That’s a monthly, right?”
Melissa looked at her a little puzzled.
Mistress Amy elaborated, a little more patiently this time, “You get a period each month, right?”
“Uh, sure.”
“Okay, over the next month or so, you’re going to lose a lot of body fat. Breast tissue is mostly fat, so your breasts are going to get a bit more droopy. If you stop exercising and put the weight back on, everything should come back. In the meantime, another option is to shift your birth control to one of the low-dose, constant release pills. Those tend to add about a half cup or so to your breast size, plus you won’t have any periods. Actually, it’s not really a period when you’re on a birth control pill anyway; it’s more properly called ‘withdrawal bleeding.’ If you go on the low-dose, constant release pill, you’ll probably get some spotting during the first few months, but no monthly cycle. If you get bad PMS, the continuous acting pill can also be an advantage.
“The good news,” Mistress Amy continued, “is you’ve got a decent chance that the increase in breast tissue will offset the loss of fat and you won’t wind up with any net change in bust size. Of course, if you stop exercising and stay on the continuous acting pill, then you’ll probably get bigger. That’ll be your choice.”
Melissa hesitated, unsure of what to do with this information, “Uh, okay. They’re big enough now. I wouldn’t want them any bigger.”
“I’ll tell Erik that you should visit your OB/GYN to talk it over. I know he’d prefer not having to deal with your periods, but it’s got to be your decision, right?” Mistress Amy looked at her very intently.
“Yeah, absolutely.” Melissa was very firm, “My body, my decision.”
Mistress Amy nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Good, at least you’re not a complete push-over. Couldn’t imagine Erik wanting someone like that around anyway.”
Melissa crossed her arms, her expression cross. Mistress Amy’s superior attitude was really grating on her.
Ignoring Melissa’s reaction, Mistress Amy reached up to a shelf and took down a pink-colored object, along with a tube of water-based gel. As Mistress Amy applied the gel to the object, Melissa saw that it was some sort of double dildo.
Mistress Amy said, “Okay, turn around, bend over, hands on the wall.”
“Bull-fucking-shit I will!”
Amy cocked her head slightly. “Spirit is one thing. Disobeying a direct order is something else entirely. Are you safe-wording out? Quitting?”
Melissa opened her mouth to retort but then stopped short. Did she really want to quit now? She felt backed in a corner. Then she remembered Erik’s advice. “Uh, yellow light?”
“Okay,” Mistress Amy said in a voice that wasn’t as nearly as harsh. “Here, let’s sit down.” She sank gracefully to the floor, ending up cross-legged. Melissa followed, as best she could. “Tell me what’s going on. You seem upset.”
Melissa nodded, “I don’t know what I expected, but, well, why were you saying it’s a good thing that I wouldn’t let somebody else tell me to change my birth control, and then, Pow! Tell me to ‘bend over and take this up the ass’? I mean, what’s the difference? Why do I get to decide some things and not others? It feels, you know, like a real violation.”
Mistress Amy nodded thoughtfully. “First, it is always, always, your decision. You can always say ‘no.’ Of course, depending on what you say ‘no’ to and how many times you say ‘no,’ that might mean quitting and going back to your vanilla life, but that is absolutely your choice. It’s a valid choice, anytime you want.
“You also can always ask for this sort of time out. Clearly, though, if you’re doing it constantly, that’s kind of a drag for everyone. So again, you’ve got to balance it against going back to a vanilla life. As for the difference between your choice of birth control, versus taking this device inside you… The birth control thing is about your personal health. You shouldn’t be making health choices just to satisfy somebody else’s desire for you not to have withdrawal bleeding once a month. That’s got to be your informed choice, made with a real doctor’s advice, not just mine or Master Erik’s.
“Bending over and getting this thing inserted into you, on the other hand, well, you are a sex slave. Master Erik told me he was purposefully blunt about spelling out your duties. I know he prefers being a ‘softer, gentler’ dom, who frankly spoils his slaves horribly, so I made sure before I agreed to this assignment that you know exactly what is expected of you.”
Mistress Amy paused, looking at her with careful consideration, “So, tell me; was Erik accurate? Do you know what the expectations are?”
“Um, I guess so.”
“‘Yellow light’ or not, how do you answer a question?” Mistress Amy’s voice had suddenly become much colder and more demanding.
“Um, I’m sorry… Yes, Mistress Amy, Master Erik was accurate. He did tell me, very bluntly, that my role is to be a sex slave in his employment. I am to follow his commands and be used for his enjoyment. Further, I am to provide those same services to anyone he appoints over me, such as yourself, Mistress Amy.”
“That’s better. Now, since we are on the floor, turn over onto your hands and knees. Present yourself for my little toy.”
Melissa did as she was commanded. She waited on her hands and knees, with her back arched and butt high while Mistress Amy gathered up her ‘toy’ and the lube. When Mistress Amy’s cool fingers grazed along the cleft between Melissa’s buttocks, it was all that Melissa could do to not flinch. She was, however, once again astonished to discover how swiftly her body could respond with arousal to being ordered to submit. She was already wet, at least vaginally, without the lube.
Mistress Amy caressed her fingers past Melissa’s sphincter several times before rubbing a finger that she had coated with lube across Melissa’s tightly clenched opening. Using her other hand, Mistress Amy slid her thumb up inside Melissa’s very wet vagina, pressing down immediately on her G-spot.
Melissa gasped and fought to keep herself from pulling away from Mistress Amy’s sudden invasion. Then Mistress Amy tightly closed the web of her hand, capturing Melissa’s clitoris and G-spot in her grasp. The pressure was almost, but not quite, too much. Melissa squirmed and involuntarily bucked against her.
Without Melissa quite realizing it, the tension in her sphincter relaxed. Mistress Amy worked the lube into Melissa’s ass, slowly coaxing her anus wider.
Melissa’s head hung down, the polished wood floor only inches from her face. Her eyes were closed, and she was completely lost in the power of submitting to this unseen force, penetrating her from behind. She could feel the early waves of an oncoming orgasm, not too far away. She moaned, pushing back harder against Mistress Amy’s hands.
Then suddenly, Mistress Amy inserted her device in both of Melissa’s openings. As soon as it was seated inside Melissa, both of Mistress Amy’s hands were gone. Melissa’s eyes flew open, her head snapped up, desperately trying to chase after her now rapidly fleeing orgasm. She started to complain, then froze, thinking better of it. Slumping back down, she felt very frustrated.
Mistress Amy went to wash her hands. As she walked away, she called out, “You can get dressed now.”
Melissa groaned, rolling over to sit with her back against the wall. She considered slipping her hand down between her legs to finish off but decided not to. It seemed like something that might get her in trouble, and besides, her orgasm now felt so remote that reviving it was unlikely, at least before Mistress Amy returned.
Instead, Melissa gathered up her shoes and clothes, and she got dressed. As she put on her thong bottoms, she felt around. She could tell the two dildos were molded together with some sort of flat connecting base that conformed to her shape. Inside of her, the dildos flared out, holding themselves in place, even without her thong. The front dildo had a small protrusion that lay between her labia, reaching up to overlap her clitoris.
Once she got on her thong and looked in the mirror, she couldn’t tell that she was wearing anything inside of her. Even a feminine pad was thicker. Thinking about wearing a pad reminded her of Mistress Amy’s suggestion about changing her birth control pill. If her breasts really were going to get droopy, maybe it was something worth looking into. She usually didn’t have bad PMS, but not having periods sounded like it’d be worth trying.
She had finished dressing by the time that Mistress Amy came back.
“Good,” the dark-haired exercise trainer said, “it’s time to get started.”
The next twenty minutes seemed, as far as Melissa could tell, to be a standard exercise session. Mistress Amy introduced her to each piece of equipment and how she was supposed to use it. Then Melissa would work out on the equipment while Mistress Amy tapped away on her data pad, adjusting the load. Mistress Amy would also correct her form, whenever she slouched or didn’t do the exercise correctly.
Melissa had never worked with a personal trainer before. She was mostly ambivalent about exercise or going to a gym. She counted on her long walk to school for most of her exercise. When she thought about it, which was usually when her scale ratcheted up another pound or so, she would do some crunches, and work out with some hand weights she had inherited from a sophomore roommate.
Fortunately, student poverty limited her food budget, and she was so busy studying that she didn’t eat enough to put on much weight. She’d been counting on manual labor at the Arizona dig site to get her back in shape this summer. Thinking about her lost summer of Archeology sent a sharp pang of sadness through her. Looking around the air-conditioned exercise studio, with it’s warm wood floors, gleaming exercise equipment, a beautiful view across the valley, she wondered what the hell she was doing. This experience seemed so fake and unreal. She felt a fraud, living as a toy in this rich man’s world. She was an Ivy League college graduate student, for God’s sake.
Mistress Amy looked up from her data pad, where she had been entering yet more information. Noticing Melissa’s pensive, distracted expression, she asked, more gently than in her normal ‘mistress’ tone, “You seem very far away. Anything going on?”
Melissa almost blurted out her fears and doubts, but she held back, not trusting the other woman enough to know what her reaction would be. Instead, Melissa said, “Nothing Mistress, I’m sorry.”
Mistress Amy nodded curtly and looked back down at her data pad.
Melissa promised herself that she would call Malcolm as soon as she could and talk this over with him. Of course, she knew what his advice would be. She could hear his chiding tone in her head, telling her to stop worrying and embrace the new experience. “If the Gravy Train decides to stop at your station, why the hell ain’t you getting onboard?”
Melissa stifled a smile as Mistress Amy finally stopped tapping on her pad and looked up. A cruel smile edged across her face as Mistress Amy announced, “We are done with learning how to do today’s exercises and calibrating your abilities, such as they are.” Melissa didn’t relax, even though it seemed that they might be done early for the day. Something told her that the trainer was not really done with her yet.
“So,” Mistress Amy continued, “now we can begin.” She tapped a button on her pad, and a soft “ping” sounded through the studio’s overhead speakers. “This will be your signal to move to the next apparatus. You will go through the same sequence that we just did, for twenty minutes.” She stabbed another button, and the dildos, which Melissa had completely forgotten about began to vibrate. “When you match the exercise profile I have created for you, this is what you’ll feel.” She tapped again, and the intensity of the vibration increased. “The harder you work, the higher the stimulation.”
Melissa squirmed on the bench where she had just finished her last exercise. The vibration was driving her crazy, making it difficult to focus on what the trainer was saying. The little nub of the front vibrator that covered her clitoris was nearly pushing her over the edge. She tried to lean forward a little bit, to press that part of the vibrator more firmly against herself.
“But if you slack off and do less than you should, then…” Mistress Amy stabbed another button and the vibration suddenly turned into an electric current that was horribly uncomfortable. Melissa shot to her feet, pressing her hands to her crotch. “And this corrective force also has levels…” Mistress Amy grinned as she pushed another button. Melissa gasped, doubling over as the fiery current seemed to increase one thousand fold in strength. It was hard to breathe.
Suddenly, it stopped. Melissa slowly straightened, trying to catch her breath. Mistress Amy giggled quietly, “It is a marvelous motivator.” She pressed another button and told Melissa, “You have twenty seconds to get to the first apparatus.”
Melissa stared at her, dumbfounded.
“Fifteen seconds…”
Melissa looked around, considering the option of just tearing the cursed dildos out of her and running out the door.
“Ten seconds…”
She turned to look at the first piece of equipment, trying to remember the exercise she was supposed to do, wondering if it was worth trying.
“Five seconds…”
With a growl of annoyance, Melissa hurried over to the starting point and grabbed hold of the bar she was supposed to pull. Above her head, she heard the soft “ping,” and she started.
As she pulled against the weight, a warm, pleasant buzzing spread between her legs. The good feeling slowly relaxed the tension that had built up from the terrible tingling of the ‘corrective’ current. She pulled a little harder and was rewarded by a stronger, deeper vibration. The feeling was wonderful, but she was fairly certain that she wasn’t going to reach an orgasm standing in this position.
She felt a little guilty that everything in her life seemed to have narrowed down to how to reach the next orgasm, but she rationalized that having sex was, after all, the whole point of being a sex slave. It was her job. ‘Sex’ was right there in the job title. “Of course,” she thought, “so is ‘slave.’” She glanced over at the trainer, thinking, “I’m still not so certain about the whole ‘mistress’ bit. I guess, maybe, she’s kind of cute… for a total bitch. Not really my type. Now a nice, hunky guy for a trainer… maybe he’d have to spank me if I was bad…”
Looking over at the next piece of exercise equipment, she grinned in anticipation of the bench she would use. She imagined pressing down against a bench, forcing the dildos more firmly against her.
Although her arms were getting tired, she didn’t want to slow down. She wanted to keep her arousal growing, so she could try to push over the top on her next apparatus. By the time that the soft “ping” sounded, her arms were rubbery and aching, but she hurried over, eagerly straddling the bench, putting her feet against the pedals, and pressing hard against the resistance.
As she hoped, her level of intensity grew and grew. She closed her eyes and continued to push hard through the motion, grinding her pelvis against the bench. She could feel her orgasm building, growing ever closer. Just as it was within reach, she heard a quiet “ping” overhead. Ignoring it, she kept on throwing herself at the exercise, but the vibration level in the dildos slowly ebbed away.
Groaning in frustration, she leaped to the next exercise, which was another one for her arms. Even though this exercise worked a different set of muscles from the first one, her arms were still so rubbery from the first apparatus that she struggled just to build back to the level of arousal she had at the beginning of the last leg exercise.
Sweat was pouring off her, the salt stinging her eyes. It seemed that her whole body was as wet and glistening as her clenching vagina and anus. When the “ping” announced the next shift, she threw herself into the next leg apparatus, determined to explode hard against the pedals and quickly push herself over the top. Quickly, she was gasping for air. She felt lightheaded as she climbed higher and higher, before finally, at long last, crashing over, shuddering and shaking in a long, powerful orgasm that left her completely spent.
She slumped over and collapsed on the floor, her chest heaving, waiting for the room to stop spinning. The vibration of the dildos slowly died down to nothing and her breathing began to steady out.
Then an itchy, painful electrical current began, so slowly at first that she wasn’t sure what it really was. Another “ping” issued from the speakers above. She opened her eyes, trying to focus and look around.
Mistress Amy stepped above her, legs straddling Melissa’s prone form. Leaning over to look her directly in the face, Mistress Amy said, “You have eight minutes left.”
“But, but, I came.”
“Congratulations. An amazing accomplishment, I’m sure. You have eight minutes left.”
Melissa groaned in pain, as the buzzing static electrical impulses grew very unpleasant. She rolled onto her hands and knees, and crawled over to the next exercise machine. As the pain grew, she lurched up to grab the bar and begin her next arm exercise. Try as she might, she only managed to work the pain level down to barely tolerable by the end of the set.
When the next “ping” came, she stumbled over to the final apparatus, laid facedown on the bench, pulling her numb legs under the bar, and began to lift the bar with her lower legs back toward her buttocks. Tears of frustration poured down her cheeks and onto the padded bench, as she could barely keep away from the most painful levels of electrical discharge.
Her breath was ragged, and she felt nauseous. Finally, she could do no more. She lay there, curling against the pain until the final soft “ping” released her. The dildos fell silent.
Melissa rolled off the bench and onto the floor, curled into a fetal position. Her breath shuddered in and out.
She had a vague awareness that Mistress Amy had left. Then she was conscious of a new set of legs in her field of view. A blond, midwestern-looking woman in her early thirties squatted down into her sight line.
“Hi,” she said, “I’m Serena. You must be Melissa.”
Melissa waited a moment and then moaned quietly in response.
“A hard workout, I see. That’s a specialty of Mistress Amy, unfortunately.” Serena waited for awhile, but there was no further response from Melissa, so she continued, “At a guess, I’d say you went all-out too early, shooting for the big prize. Then you had nothing left for the long haul.”
Melissa mumbled, “Fucking bitch. I thought I was supposed to come to make it stop. But no… ‘You’ve got eight more minutes.’ Fucking bitch.”
Serena grinned at Melissa’s explanation. “Welcome to the club. I mean, of people who think Mistress Amy’s a total bitch. Of course, she does an insane job of getting people into shape. But now we got to do something about your abused muscles before they cool off, and you completely cramp up.”
Serena knelt down, undid Melissa’s shoes, and slipped them off her feet, along with her footie socks. The Serena squatted again next to Melissa and reached out to grasp her arms. “Come on, up you go. I’ve got a nice hot whirlpool going.”
Despite Melissa’s mumbled protests, Serena got her up on her feet and moving toward the back of the studio. After nearly dragging her up three steps, Serena brought Melissa to the edge of a large jacuzzi whirlpool. Wisps of warm vapor curled off the top of the water. Serena left her clinging to the railing while she went over to the wall and activated the jets.
Melissa looked contentedly down at the thrumming of the bubbling jets, as the water began to swirl. Serena came back and slipped Melissa’s thong down around her ankles. Then supporting her carefully from behind, Serena pulled Melissa’s sports bra up over her head.
Serena placed Melissa’s hands back on the railing and told her, “Hold on a minute; I’ll help you in.”
Behind her, Melissa could hear Serena unzipping her jeans and kicking off her shoes. After a moment, Serena took Melissa’s elbow and helped her step down into the whirlpool. As Serena guided her across the pool, Melissa saw that she was naked as well. Serena sat down on a wide underwater bench and pulled Melissa into sitting down between her legs, with her back resting against Serena’s chest.
Reaching behind her, Serena got a plastic cup of cold water and handed it to Melissa. “Here, drink some of this. It’s sort of a home-made, low-sugar version of Gatorade. It’ll help you feel better.”
Melissa sipped the drink, then surprised herself by draining the cup. She groaned in delight, settling back against Serena’s breasts. “I didn’t know I was so thirsty.”
Serena took the cup from her and then began to massage Melissa’s shoulders. Finding a knot, Serena pressed her thumbs in on either side of Melissa’s neck. The area was very sensitive. At first, the pressure hurt. But then the pain gave way to a delicious release and Melissa groaned again, this time in total pleasure. Without any warning, she shuddered in a small orgasm.
“Huh? What was that?” Melissa felt embarrassed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“Stop being silly. That’s perfectly fine. The whole point of what you’re going through, what you’re learning, is to be in a very heightened sexual state. There’s such intensity in what you’re experiencing that little tantric orgasms like that should be expected. You’ll probably get to the point where Erik can set one off by just caressing your arm.”
Melissa shuddered again at the thought of it. “Oh. I’ve never, I mean, I didn’t even touch myself or anything.”
“In a state like this, you don’t need to masturbate in the usual sense, not for a small little orgasm like that. That sort of quiet shudder is called a tantric orgasm. That means it’s more about your mental state and soft touch, rather than the traditional, full-blown, crashing over the top, sort of thing.
“Of course,” Serena continued, pressing her hand down on Melissa’s sex, “you could have one of those too.”
Melissa groaned yet again, thrusting her pelvis forward against Serena’s hand and arching her back against her soft breasts. She complained, “I thought I was straight.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that you are… mostly. So am I… mostly.” Serena’s fingers explored Melissa. “Here, let’s get this out of the way.” She slowly pulled the double dildo from where it had been seated. After a final bit of resistance, as though Melissa’s body was holding onto it, the device popped free. Serena put it up on the edge of the pool.
Melissa felt strangely empty and tingly. Serena resumed caressing Melissa’s labia and upper thighs. She asked Melissa, “Is everything okay. No lasting damage?”
“Yeah, just feels weird. Kind of empty.”
Serena chuckled and said, “Well I can take care of that.” Then her fingers penetrated inside Melissa and pressed unerringly up against her G-spot, trapping her clitoris between the heel of her hand pressing down and her fingers pulling up. Melissa gasped as Serena started to rub her in small circles.
Serena whispered, “Straight… bi… whatever… when you cross over into this world, this place, lots of things become… more flexible. Who you are doesn’t change, so much as who you’re willing to be.”
More quickly than Melissa would have believed possible, she exploded into a powerful and deeply satisfying orgasm.
Once Melissa tapered off, Serena leaned back against the whirlpool’s wall, letting Melissa float gently above her, drifting softy in the current. They lay like that for several minutes, before Serena said, “Okay, lazy bones, let’s get out of this tub before I shrivel up like a raisin.”
Melissa was grateful to discover that her energy had returned, and she was able to step out of the whirlpool by herself, only holding onto the railing a little bit to steady herself. Serena joined her, then led her over to a massage table where a couple of fluffy white bath sheets were folded up and waiting for them.
After drying off, Serena helped Melissa get up on the table and lie face down. Serena worked on easing Melissa’s sore muscles. Fortunately, the whirlpool and orgasms seemed to have taken care of most of her tension already. Serena then had Melissa roll over and started working on her front.
At first, Melissa felt a little uncomfortable, lying naked and face-up while someone who was equally naked massaged her. She had never had anyone massage her front before, not even a boyfriend. The reality of what Serena did, however, wasn’t any different than when Melissa was lying face-down, so she was able to let herself relax and enjoy having all the remaining kinks worked out of her still-tender muscles.
When Serena was done, Melissa felt very pampered and mellow. She wasn’t exactly sleepy, but her sense of consciousness was only loosely tied to the present. The sound of the outside door closing began to bring her back. Hearing a man’s footsteps coming closer, she suddenly remembered her naked state. Her eyes flew open, and she turned her head to see Erik walking toward her with a bundle of clothes.
She stopped herself from trying to cover her nakedness. After all, she reminded herself, she was supposed to be his sex toy.
Erik smiled as he set down the bundle of clothes on a chair, “Well, it looks like you’ve recovered quite nicely.”
“No thanks to that little bitch in heat, oh, I’m sorry, I meant dear sweet Mistress Amy. Thank you ever so much, Master, for the opportunity to experience such… pain.”
“Ah well, as they say, ‘no pain, no gain.’ Besides, I can’t have you lazing about the whole time.”
He turned to Serena, “Thank you for taking such wonderful care of her. She looks very well sated.”
Serena nodded, “I think she’s ready to face the day now. She might have been a tad wrung out from earlier, but I don’t think any permanent damage was done.”
Erik agreed, “Mistress Amy is almost always more careful than we give her credit for.” With a slightly more serious tone and nodding his head at the massage table, he asked Serena, “Did everything go well here?
“Perfect. No surprises.”
Melissa caught the undertone. She looked back and forth between them, puzzled. “Say what?”
Erik seemed a little chagrined that he had been so obvious, “Ah, sometimes, when somebody has body issues or an old trauma, a massage therapist will discover… hidden messages left as sort of ‘body memory.’ When that happens, a massage session can turn into a mine field, especially when the massage comes right after an intense experience, such as what you had with Mistress Amy. Old stuff can come up, unexpectedly.” He turned back to Serena. “But it sounds like there wasn’t anything at all.”
“Nope. She was just fine. A little nervous, maybe, when I asked her to turn over to work on her front, but nothing that seemed out of place.”
Melissa asked, a little angry, “So that’s how it is? Everything’s a test? I have to look for the hidden purpose in every gift you give me?”
Erik nodded thoughtfully, “Sometimes. Look, if there had been traumas hidden away, they could have spilled out in very destructive ways, and done real damage. Still could, for that matter.”
Erik grimaced for a moment, “I am your dom. Your Master. You have given me an enormous trust. Your safety is, at least partially, my responsibility now. I am taking you on a journey. Most of this journey, hopefully, will be wondrous and new. Some of it, though, could be dangerous, especially if you have brought baggage along that I, we, don’t know about.
“So yes, all along the way, I’ll be checking to make sure that you really are okay. It’s not that I’m trying to trick you or manipulate you… well, not too much. Mostly, I’m just trying to make sure that I don’t hurt you.”
“Okay. Thank you, I guess. But I’m not made of porcelain, you know. I can do a reasonable job of looking after myself.”
Melissa swung her legs over the edge of the table and sat up, feeling self-conscious again about being naked. Then she remembered that Serena was also still naked. Serena was also shaved smooth below, so Melissa couldn’t tell if her honey blond hair color had been helped along or not. There were slight smile lines at the edges of Serena’s mouth and the corners of her eyes, showing that her twenties had passed by. Her modest bust, however, was still firm. The rest of her body looked to be in great shape too. Her hips were only medium wide, and her abdomen was thick, but it seemed solid with muscle, rather than fat. Melissa wondered if Serena was a gymnast, or perhaps rode horses. There was something athletic about her body, in a straightforward, unassuming way. The contrast with Mistress Amy’s perfectly toned and sculpted body was very noticeable.
Melissa thought about Erik’s body. His physique seemed somewhere in between Serena’s and Amy’s very different modes of fitness. He was gorgeous, strong, and sculpted, which was sort of like Amy. He also had a purposeful grace to his movements, except his sense of grace seemed totally natural, without any artifice. Mistress Amy, on the other hand, always seemed self-aware of how she moved, as well as her appearance in general.
Serena, in contrast, was not nearly as graceful as either Amy or Erik. Serena seemed to be more of a “what you see is what you get” kind of girl. Suddenly, Melissa wondered how she looked to the others. All her years of ballet classes had hopefully given her some inherent poise. She had also been a tomboy for most of her childhood, at least until her breasts popped out and boys started treating her differently. Thinking about it, she realized that she had no idea how the others saw her, except, of course, that she was naked right now.
Serena stepped into the silence that had followed Melissa’s protest over Erik’s protectiveness, not realizing that Melissa’s long silence had simply been her mind wandering. “Erik, you know she’s right. You can’t go around trying to arrange things just to keep her safe. At best, that’s patronizing. At worst, well, it can get kind of creepy.”
Erik shook his head and said in mock pity, “What sort of useless dom must I be? Last night, Melissa pops me up side the head on the drive home, and now, the two of you double-team me. Clearly, my mastery of the situation is somewhat lacking.”
The two women shared a laugh. Then Melissa reached out to touch Erik’s arm, “It’s not that I don’t appreciate your looking out for me. I do. This is all new territory. I just don’t like being bubble-wrapped, that’s all.”
“Yeah, and I’m not really a bubble-wrap or even a Saran Wrap, kind of guy. Not my kink.”
Serena volunteered, “I once did a Saran Wrap guy. I got to admit, it didn’t really do a whole lot for me. Plus, he was a kind of wimpy dom, but he was too scared to be a sub. Oh well.”
Her expression brightened up, and she continued, “So what are you guys doing next? A three-way? I’m available.” She leaned back against the massage table and put her arm around Melissa. “We’re both already bare-butt naked.” She nuzzled Melissa’s neck. “I could really enjoy going down on her. Or one of us could tongue your ass while the other one takes your cock up her ass. I know you like that.” She gave Melissa a little push so that she lay partially back on the massage table. “Go ahead. Turn over and let me eat out your ass. We’ll see how long he lasts.”
Melissa looked at Erik uncertainly and he laughed, “Enough, enough. Melissa’s got a 10:30 with Henri, and you know how hard it is to get on his schedule. We start messing around, and she’ll never make it.”
Serena complained with a drawn-out “Owww.” She looked down at Melissa for support and nudged her with an elbow.
Melissa grinned and dutifully joined in with an, “Ohhh.”
Erik held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, tell you what Serena, are you free for dinner tonight? I can plan a suitable punishment for this torment you’re causing me.”
Serena smiled, “Yes Master. Your slaves are free for your taking.” Then she nudged Melissa again to lie down and nodded her head to indicate that she should roll over. This time, Melissa complied, arching her back, lifting up her buttocks. She spread her legs as she drew her knees up underneath her. Then she looked back innocently at Serena and asked, “Like this?”
Serena answered by leaning over and thrusting her tongue against Melissa’s anus, penetrating slightly on the first push. Melissa groaned with deliberately exaggerated desire, as Serena applied herself forcefully, her tongue darting in and out of Melissa’s ass, which quickly relaxed to take her in.
Serena was careful to position their bodies so that Erik could get a full view of the action.
Erik rolled his eyes in mock frustration and then unzipped his pants, allowing his now fully rigid member to spring out. “All right you two, on your knees. Somebody’s going to have to take a load of cum.”
Serena exclaimed brightly as she sank to a kneeling position, “Oh, me, me, me. I call it!”
Melissa quickly scrambled down off the massage table, joining in the playful mood, “You can’t have it all, you greedy little bitch. I’m his sex slave. I get first dibs.” As she spoke, Melissa knelt beside Serena, matching her posture with a straight back, arms clasped behind her back, head bowed.
Serena looked over at Melissa, “I’ll wrestle you for it. First one to get pinned has to eat out the winner, plus the winner gets Erik’s full load. I’m gonna wump your ass. Ha!”
Erik said, “Girls, girls, now behave. You’ll get a chance to settle your differences tonight. But right now, the clock is running. I’m just going to jerk off on you and be done with it. That’s all you deserve for your miserable behavior.”
With that said, Erik stepped close to them and did exactly as he promised, masturbating vigorously in order to come quickly. Serena licked her lips and tried to push in front of Melissa.
Melissa let her have the front position, thinking to herself, “Oh boy, gagging down more cum. She can go first.” Melissa had to admit, however, that Serena’s silly, somewhat over the top performance had made it more fun. So she did her best to push her way back into the action.
Soon enough, Erik gasped, arching his back while his thick semen spurted out. The first jet hit Melissa’s cheek, and then Serena pushed in to catch the next pulse in her mouth, Melissa pushed her way back, getting the final spurt on her chin. Both women laughed. Some of the cum spilled back out of Serena’s mouth as she tried to contain her laughter. With Serena preoccupied, Melissa yelled, “I get the last drops!” She jammed her mouth around Erik’s shaft, sucking hard. His eyes flew open, and he drew in a sharp breath. The intensity of her sucking on his highly sensitized penis made him have to fight not to pull away.
Serena swallowed down what remained in her mouth, and then turned to lick Melissa’s cheek clean. Erik finally did pull away, and Melissa turned to clean off Serena’s spilled cum. He watched intently as both women kissed and licked each other clean. Erik muttered, “You two are bound and determined to make me stay hard all day. Get in the shower and cleaned off! Quickly!”
Both women giggled as they hurried to the shower.
Melissa stopped at the doorway to the shower as Serena went in and turned on the water, still laughing. Melissa knew she shouldn’t be surprised, but the shower was a gorgeous combination of stone, wood, and glass. Water flowed from several traditional shower heads, as well as over a small waterfall, from an opening in the arched roof in the middle of the room. The waterfall’s broad stream of water fell splashing onto the stone floor. Serena turned to look at Melissa, still standing dumbfounded in the doorway. Serena waved her in, “Come on in, you’re letting the heat out.” She waved around at the room, “Yeah, it’s pretty fucking awesome, isn’t it.” She stepped under the waterfall, holding open her mouth to intercept some of the onrushing flow. Then she stepped back out, spitting out the remaining water. “Ugh. Gotta get that nasty taste out.”
Melissa stepped under one of the more normal shower heads, asking, “Yeah, what was that all about?”
“Oh, Erik’s such a dom. He’s Mister ‘I’m in control.’ I love to get him to do something he doesn’t want to do. So when he said we didn’t have time to screw around, well there wasn’t any alternative, I had to make him come.”
“And licking my ass like that?”
“Guy’s are too easy. You just have to know their hot buttons. Erik loves having his ass get diddled. And he likes watching two girls do it to each other. Drives him crazy every time.”
“But do you like it?”
“Oh, I love having somebody do it to me. Doing to somebody else… yeah, not so much. But it’s so cool to get Erik all hot and bothered, especially when he’s determined not to. That’s way worth it. Besides, if I’m going to stick my tongue up somebody’s ass, I’d much rather it be a girl.”
“Huh?”
“A girl’s much likelier to be smooth, no hair you know, and clean. Tonguing a hairy guy with little balls of crap dangling around…”
“Thank you ever so much for that image. What the hell is it with you and Malcolm? You two just love grossing me out.”
“Who’s Malcolm?”
“Probably my best friend. He’s gay.”
“Well, that explains it. Gay sex can get kind of groady and messy, not that guys care. Anyway, making out with a girl is way cleaner. It may not be my favorite pastime, but hey, it’s not all bad. I sure had fun making you come.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“You’re welcome. Besides, I got invited for fun and games tonight.”
“Yeah, what’s that going to be?”
“Hah! With Erik, you never can tell. He’s way more creative and fun than most of the folks I know. Oh, I suppose there’ll be some whipping and spanking. He really loves that.” Serena paused a minute and looked at Melissa more carefully. “You into that?”
Melissa blushed, with a guilty nod.
Serena laughed, “Good. A willing partner is really important for Erik. Somebody who’s faking it, naw, he’s so good at reading people; he can spot it right away.”
“But weren’t you sort of faking it? I mean, you don’t really like the taste of cum. And you said you didn’t really like giving anal-oral.”
Serena put her finger to her lips, “Shush. Don’t confuse me with the facts. The thing is, I love doing it when I’m in the middle of it because I know what it’s doing for the other person. And that gives me this rush of sexual power; it’s like a drug. Man, if I could package that and sell it, I’d be a billionaire.”
Melissa was puzzled, “I’m not sure…”
Serena immediately contradicted her, “Yes you are. I’ve already seen you – like – you’re riding a wave. There’s this energy you generate. You’re saying, ‘I’m this sexual being. I exist to be your play toy.’ And it makes you really valuable, precious, powerful. It’s what being a sub is all about. That you exist solely to satisfy someone else’s needs, except, of course, what’s really happening is that all of their energy is going into you, and that makes you crazy powerful.”
Serena could see that Melissa was still puzzled, so she paused, searching for the right explanation. Then she tried again, “You know… like, have you ever been an actor, or done some kind of performance thing where people clapped really hard for what you did?”
“Well, a couple of dance recitals, sort of.”
“And like, that applause, that energy, it was a total rush, right?”
Melissa thought back to one particular dance performance where she had completely nailed it, and all the parents had gotten to their feet, clapping and cheering for her. The memory of that standing ovation had also been very powerful for her, and even now left her a little misty eyed. She quietly said, “Yeah.”
When Serena saw that Melissa had connected to the feeling, she said, “That’s what it is. That’s why I love sticking my tongue up your ass or sucking down a guy’s cum. Not cause it’s anything you’d ever want to do by itself. Yecch! But because, in that moment, it’s what makes the other person crazy, and I’m the one doing it.”
She continued, “All these vanilla folks get hung up on the idea of a sub being powerless, but they’re missing the whole point. They don’t see the enormous amount of power a sub has. The whole thing doesn’t work without the sub being into it. And when it’s working, I mean really working, wow, the rush is intense. Cause the dom’s also working hard as hell, trying to get the sub into that place, where the sub is just this total sexual being. And that’s the dom’s rush of power, being able to get the sub there. The whole thing’s like a circle, where the power of each person feeds off the other and multiplies.”
Serena laughed and continued, “Of course, this morning was extra fun because I got to use that power to pull Erik into something he was resisting. I mean, I know he wanted to do it, at least at some level. Ain’t no way you’re gonna get that man to do what he really doesn’t want to do. But he didn’t think he should have done it, and we showed him different. God, I love messing with a dom like that.”
Melissa smiled at Serena’s enthusiasm. After a moment, Melissa responded, “I think I see what you’re saying. And yeah, it was kind of fun to make him come when he didn’t want to. He’s always been so… restrained around me. It’s like, well he can make me come whenever he wants to, but he doesn’t need to have his own orgasm. I was kind of wondering if there was something… I don’t know… weird going on.”
“Naw, he’s just your normal, control-freak, dom. Plus, he’s a good guy. He cares about his partner. I mean, you’re new to all this. He’s going to make sure you have a good time, and wow, does he know a good time.”
“What about you? I mean, and him?”
“Oh, little green monster time? Well, set your jealousy aside, silly little girl. Sure, I’ve known him for years, and yeah, we have fun together, but, I don’t know, he’s a little too uptight and hard-charging for me. Or maybe it’s that I’m a little too loose and ‘who the fuck cares’ for him. Anyway, we have fun. I kind of challenge him, I think, in ways that he needs to be challenged. I mean, he’s a great dom, pretty mellow about it and all, but he really needs somebody who can match his creativity and passion for a scene. Not that it’d ever be a good idea to try to take a scene away from him – somebody else trying to wrestle control away from him, now that would be a bad thing. But, at the same time, he really needs somebody who can bring something of their own to a scene. Help him fill it out. Zig when he zags.”
“That sounds… sort of challenging.”
“Sure, well…
“Hey girls!” Erik’s voice came booming into the shower room. “Did you forget the bit about hurrying?”
“Oh shit,” Serena told Melissa. “We gotta go. He gets royally pissed about being late, anywhere. Even to a fucking hair dresser.”
The two women trooped out, guiltily. Erik was standing outside the door, holding their towels. He told them, “I called Henri and told him you were running late. He’s okay with the delay, but I’ve got a telecon that starts before I’d get back. Serena, are you available to run Melissa down to Henri’s?”
“Sure, and, hey Erik, I’m really sorry about losing track of time. Girl-talk, you know.”
He laughed, “I figured, and I thought it wouldn’t be bad for Mel to have some girl-talk time, but we’ve got to pick out clothes for her, and Henri could only push things back so far.”
Melissa looked at Erik, a little puzzled, not sure if she was annoyed, “So now I’m Mel?”
He grimaced for a second, “Sorry, I mean Melissa. I sort of shortened your name in my head – didn’t mean for it to pop out.”
“That’s okay. I’m not sure. I might kind of like it. I mean, I’ve been called Mellie before. I definitely hated that. Mel? I guess you could do that.”
“Okay, I’ll probably bounce back and forth for awhile. I sort of do that with names. Sorry.”
“Hey, no biggie. So what’s this about clothes?”
Serena came back into the dressing area, having gathered up her clothes by the whirlpool. She asked excitedly, “Oh goody, do we get to dress her?”
Erik said to Serena sternly, “I’ll take any of your suggestions under advisement, but do try to keep it quiet in the peanut gallery.”
Serena curtsied, “Yes massah, anything you says, massah.”
Erik looked down his nose at her, “Ah ought ta tan your hide, young lady.”
“Oh yeah! But that’ll have to wait for tonight. Remember, we’re on a clock.”
“That would have been what I came in here to do – remind you.” He turned and walked back out, calling over his shoulder to Melissa, “Your clothes are out here.”
Serena slipped on her jeans and shook out her shirt to put on. Melissa wondered if Serena was simply following Erik’s edict about no underwear, or if women in the kink world just didn’t wear any.
Serena ducked into her shirt and waited to walk out with Melissa. After taking one final pass at drying her hair, Melissa started to wrap the towel around her body, but Serena shook her head to stop her. Melissa rolled her eyes. She let the towel drop to the floor and walked out with Serena.
As they went through the door, Serena slapped her on the butt and whispered, “Don’t you go rolling your eyes, you little hussy. You just parade your beautiful naked self out there for that there fancy gentleman to admire. He thinks you’re something special, you know.”
“Oh.”
Erik had pulled three chairs together and was sitting in one. The clothes he had brought lay on the chair next to him, neatly folded. Serena walked over to the unoccupied chair and sat down. Melissa stopped in front of them, unsure what to do. Then she sank into a slave’s kneeling pose, arms clasped behind her back, head bowed. “How may I please my Master?
Erik joked proudly to Serena, “See, she learns.”
Serena replied breezily, “Sure. Mel’s a smart girl, and sub through and through.”
Erik nodded, “Indeed.” Then he pulled the top two items off the pile. “Here you go, slave. Put these on.”
Melissa accepted the clothes with both hands, trying to mimic the motions she had seen in a video of a Japanese tea ceremony. Then she rose up to her feet, which she happily was able to accomplish fairly gracefully. Erik had given her a pair of jeans and a white lace baby tee. She slipped on the jeans, which fit reasonably well, although they were low cut. She hoped her pudge didn’t poke out. She didn’t want to call attention to it by looking down to see. Next, she had to struggle a bit to get into the lace tee, which was definitely on the small, tight side. Pulling it down, she realized that it had a cropped bottom.
Knowing that her pudge must now be perfectly framed between the low-rider jeans and the tight crop top, she thought, “Oh great. Maybe I could wear this after a couple of weeks with Mistress Body Nazi, but it’s just got to look bad, bad, bad.” She waited for a reaction from Erik and Serena.
Both of them seemed to be thoughtful and appraising. Melissa was relieved that at least they didn’t look turned-off.
Serena turned to Erik and said, “Well, she certainly looks perfectly scrumptious in that top, but Erik, you can’t send her out into public in something that transparent, not alone, not into the real world. Maybe a jacket over it, or maybe even just the top at night, but with her boobs, well, that’s pretty much right out in front of you.”
“Yeah,” he said brightly, “works for me. God, I’m getting hard again.” He laughed, “But you’re right. Too bad.” He turned to the pile, picking up the next items. “Alright, next.”
Melissa was shocked to realize that she hadn’t even considered the transparency of the lace top. “God,” she thought, “am I already that casual about parading around nude? Guess so. Probably would have occurred to me on the drive there, and then I’d have freaked.”
She shimmied out of the top and stepped out of the jeans. Erik handed her a twill pleated skirt and a white thong tank top body suit. She stepped into the tank top first, then pulled it up over her shoulders. The arm holes were cut deep, below the bust line. She had to spend a moment rearranging her breasts to fit as best she could. Then she pulled on the skirt and zipped it up.
Serena spoke first again, “I don’t know, Erik. I think she’s just too big for that top. See how the fabric is puckering on both sides?”
“Yeah, I agree. It’s a little too much ‘in your face.’ What do you think of the skirt?”
“Sort of neither here nor there. I mean, it’s fine, but it’s not doing anything special. If it was a little shorter, then it’d have more of a kick, but then you’d also be in that whole Catholic school girl, bad girl thing. Sure, she’s young enough to pull it off, but I think that look is a little too much ‘trailer park trash’ for Henri’s.”
“Yeah, that’s why I went with the longer hem line, but you’re right, it’s not really doing anything special. Okay,” he said, lifting another item from the diminishing pile, “let’s try this.”
Melissa quickly undressed, kicking the discarded clothes aside, and reached out for the new outfit. It was a yellow silk sundress. She pulled it on and reached around back to zip it up, but Erik had already gotten up to help her. She turned to let him, turning back when he was done.
Serena looked up with approval. “That’s nice. Classic look. The top gives her some support, but the fabric’s thin enough that you get that nice nipple definition, and maybe even a bit of a shadow of her areola – but it’s not an ‘in your face’ kind of thing. And the waist is good. The length is cute – sexy short – not tramp short. Yeah, that works. Got anything else?
Erik sat back down, considering. “Yeah, I’ve got some others, but this is fine, and you guys have really got to get going. You taking your car, or do you want to borrow one?”
“Ha, one of your over-powered boy-toys? No, I’ll stick with my Mini, thanks.”
“Okay,” he laughed. Then he reached to the bottom of the remaining stack of clothes. He pulled out a pair of wedge sandals. They were faced in woven hemp and had a four-inch heel. Melissa took them without a word and sat on the floor to put them on.
Serena shook her head, “Erik, you and your heels. Careful Mel, you got to spend most of your day barefoot, if you can, around this guy. Otherwise, his high heel fetish is going to ruin your feet.”
Melissa caressed her shoes, “But they’re so beautiful. Back in my room, I’ve got this closet full of these gorgeous Italian heels. You know, if a girl is going to sell her soul, and well, I guess, her body too, that’s not a bad price.”
“Oh shit,” Serena exclaimed, “you’re a total shoe whore!” She shook her head, then looked over at Erik. “You two were made for each other.”
Melissa snuck a glance at Erik. He seemed a little shocked by Serena’s statement, but, Melissa noted, he wasn’t denying it.
Erik cleared his throat, “Alright, you two, get out of here. I’ve got to go prep for my telecon.”
Serena slipped out of her chair to kneel on the floor, and Melissa scrambled up from putting on her shoes to join her in a kneeling pose. Together, they said, “Yes, Master.”
Knowing that they were teasing him, Erik growled at them, then stalked out, pulling the door forcefully shut behind him. Once the door was shut, both women leaned against each other, struggling to not to laugh.
Serena finally said, “Oh that was fun. Man, I just love being here. The pay’s great. Erik’s a good guy. I’m so glad he brought me in to help you out.”
Serena stood up, slipping on her sneakers.
Melissa stood up to join her, and asked hesitantly, “So you get paid for…”
Serena filled in, “Fucking him? Absolutely. I mean, I really am a certified massage therapist and a little bit of my income is straight up that way, but I make a lot more off of folks like Erik. I swing both ways, sub and domme. So I could make a pretty good living just topping guys, but most male subs are pretty damned annoying. They’re all pushy and needy. It’s high maintenance stuff. This sort of thing with you and Erik… it’s way more fun.”
“But getting paid for it, doesn’t that get, I don’t know, a little weird?”
Serena frowned, “I don’t know. Aren’t you getting paid for fucking him too? Does that make you feel weird?”
Melissa was flustered, knowing that she had insulted Serena, but also caught off guard by having to confront her own role. “I’m sorry Serena. I didn’t mean to… oh hell, I don’t know. Yeah it does feel really weird, and horribly wrong… except that it also feels so damn right. I just don’t know.” She suddenly felt herself on the edge of tears.
Serena saw Melissa’s sudden change in mood and gave her a hug. Serena told her, “Hey, I’m sorry I got all pissy. I know it’s weird. There’s this whole shame thing about taking money for it too, like a whore. All I can say is that folks like Erik are way richer than I’ll ever be. If they can afford to hire me to help them ‘play,’ create a scene, whatever… well that’s a personal service that makes sense to me. I’m giving them something of real value.”
Serena stepped back to explain further, “A lot of my clients, they’re stressed-out, successful people, and they really need to unwind. For them, that means something kinky, and they want their kink without a lot of the baggage that can come along. That’s what I do. And I really like it too. Plus I’ve got a good enough client base nowadays that I don’t have to put up with the assholes.
“Guys like Erik are amazing. I mean, he’s an awesome guy. Maybe he’s strung a little tight, but you get him to loosen up, and he’s way fun.
“Around you,” Serena nodded at Melissa, “I’ve never seen him so loose and happy. You’re good for him.”
After a thoughtful moment, Serena added, “And I think his paying you is different than how he works with me. Based on what he told me, he was trying to help you with a summer thing. Also, I think he was trying to give you some space to explore your own kink. Something about making it a job, so it takes the Catholic guilt thing away.”
Melissa nodded agreement.
Serena tugged her arm, “We really do have to get going.” They started walking as Serena continued, “Anyway, I don’t think that Erik’s looking to treat you like me, or turn you into somebody like me. I mean, you could go down this path if you wanted to. You’re super attractive and you clearly like sex, with a pretty open mind. But I don’t think he sees you as a service provider. I’ve know a few of the women that Erik’s gone with, dated, whatever. Most of them have been hard-chargers, like him. Nice girls, but none of them lasted real long…”
“I met Deborah last night.”
Serena was surprised, “Wow. Deborah’s… interesting. Maybe wrapped kind of tight, a lot like Erik. I was sorry they didn’t last longer together. But you’re different. More… I don’t know… real, right here. I mean, Deborah can be fun, I guess, but she’s a lot in her head, you know, like Erik.”
Serena slowed her walking pace for a moment, considering something. “You know, it wouldn’t surprise me if part of why Erik is paying you is just a way of keeping some distance. I mean, he just doesn’t let people get beyond a certain point. I’ve learned to be careful about how I challenge him that way. There’s limits.”
They walked into the parking courtyard. Serena’s bright yellow Cooper Mini was sitting off to one side. She told Melissa, “Hop in. Let’s get out of here!”