Melissa scooted inside the door, putting her hand out behind her to ease the screen door shut, rather than letting it bang loudly against the door frame. She was drenched from the short walk across the entry courtyard. A summer thunderstorm was blowing sheets of rain through the screen door, drenching the rug and flagstones in the entry area.
She looked around the room, embarrassed by both her late arrival and the soaking wet blouse that was transparently plastered across her chest. As she feared, Erik had been working at his desk. He looked up from some papers in a warm pool of light. Even though it was mid-morning, the storm had so darkened the sky that the interior of the house seemed dim and moody. Erik looked gorgeous, as always, his face lit by the reflected glow of his old-fashioned desk lamp.
A broad smile quickly spread across his features, with a playful suggestion of a leer as his eyes took in her wet figure. “Glad you made it safely back in all this rain. The Aston Martin can be a handful in bad weather.”
“Yeah, maybe I should have come back last night. But the drive wasn’t too bad. The rain only got heavy after I was off the highway.” She slowly walked toward him as she talked, trying to be casual in spite of being self-consciousness about her wet blouse. She silently chided herself for being foolish, reminding herself of how easily she had accepted spending most of her time around him in a state of undress. It puzzled her that a wet shirt clinging to her braless breasts should seem so disconcerting – after all, she told herself, the whole point of her summer job was to be his sex toy.
“Good… and no, I’m glad you stayed over in the city last night. I missed you, but you’re supposed to have your time off. Being here 24/7 could get oppressive. Don’t want that… anyway, how’d your date with Deborah go?”
“Uh, good, I guess. I like her, and we, uh… well, we sort of fooled around, and talked, then fooled around, and talked. I’m sorry for calling about staying over so late. I didn’t realize how much time had gone by.”
“No worries. Thanks for calling.”
“Yeah, I guess I should have packed an overnight bag or something. I didn’t think I was going to stay over.”
“So I guess you’re feeling more comfortable with women?”
“Between screwing around with Serena and Deborah? I guess so. It still doesn’t feel like something I’d deliberately seek out, but I sure as hell don’t seem to be avoiding it. And I’ve got to tell you, I didn’t see that one coming.”
“It’s a whole summer to explore new things. There’s plenty of time to figure out what you like and don’t like.”
“Ha, the whole piss-play thing, that’s not way high on my list either, but it wasn’t as weird as I thought.”
Erik laughed, “Deborah only really got into that after she started with Michael. Who’d have thought? But anyway, it’s not high on my kink list either.”
“Okay, but what is?”
Erik looked thoughtful; then he pushed back his desk chair and stood up. He crooked a finger at her as he walked over to the overstuffed reading chair he kept in his office area and flopped into it. He patted his lap, indicating that she should sit.
Melissa sat on his lap, remembering to flick away the back of her skirt at the last minute, so her bare skin rested directly on his jeans. She wrapped an arm around his neck and waited for him to continue.
“Well, the dom bit you get.”
She grinned at how quickly she had come to understand and appreciate his dominant nature.
“And you know I love spanking and whipping you. Even more, I love that you love it too. That’s hugely important to me. If you didn’t like it, if it were only something you just tolerated, then it wouldn’t be fun for me. There are doms who really get off on spanking subs who don’t like it. Sure, the subs like submitting, but spanking – physical impact play – is painful and unpleasant for them. It’s sort of like consensually non-consensual play, which… I don’t know… it definitely doesn’t do anything for me. In truth, it’s mostly a huge turn-off for me.”
“And that’s why the thing with you and Deborah never worked out?”
“Sure, at least a part of why. She tried. I tried. But it just wasn’t working. Anyway, beyond the whole whips and chains thing, I really like tying you up and playing with you, toying with you until you’re hot and bothered and begging to be allowed to come.”
Melissa gave a small satisfied groan, nestling deeper into his lap. She could feel his erection growing, and she was pretty certain that she was starting to leave a wet spot on his denim. He grinned in response and reached up to stroke her nipple as he continued. “Beyond that, I really enjoy showing you off. You’re beautiful, sexy, smart – the idea that you’re my slave, I own you, is very erotic.”
Melissa gave him a puzzled look, a little uncertain about the idea of being “owned.” Even though her sex had clenched powerfully as Erik spoke, the more thinking parts of her weren’t as unequivocally positive.
He saw her concern and reassured her, “Fantasy, remember? Dom, sub, fantasy – that’s not reality, at least not my reality. It’s a game we play with our sexuality. You asked what punches my buttons. Showing you off, plus the idea that you’re mine – that definitely punches a button, hard. And I plan to do more of it: taking you to parties, going to clubs… all that good stuff. I just didn’t want to hit you with too much, too fast.”
“Ha! Could have fooled me.”
“Well, I guess your schedule has been a bit full. But it’s been fun, right?”
Melissa nodded dreamily, a little distracted by how he was teasing her nipples as they talked. “It’s been amazing. Well, except Mistress Amy, but I sort of understand why that’s useful.”
Erik asked, “And the stuff with Mike?”
“Yeah, well Mike’s a great guy, and it really does make sense to learn more about how to defend myself. I guess I was all worried that I’d be learning how to kill a guy in seven seconds… that sort of macho Special Forces thing. At least, how the movies make it look. Mike isn’t anything like that. I mean, he is, sort of. I know he’s got all that ‘been there, done that, killed lots of bad guys’ credentials, but he’s so different than what I thought one of those guys would be.”
Erik asked, “How so?”
“He’s smart. I mean, I didn’t think commandos were dumb or anything, but he’s really smart and thoughtful. He listens… I mean, he really, really pays attention. And he’s respectful.”
“Should I be jealous?”
“Ha! No, he doesn’t ‘push’ the same kind of ‘buttons’ for me that you do. Besides, he’s married, and he seems like the kind of guy who takes that pretty seriously. Unlike someone else I know who loves to share me around.”
He laughed, “The problem is, you like it, don’t you?”
Melissa looked away, embarrassed. After a moment, she grumbled, “Guilty.”
Erik reached up to caress the side of her face. “It’s okay; I like that in you. Besides, it’s your job, remember?”
She nodded, turning back to rest her head on his shoulder.
Erik stroked her hair and said, “The reason I asked about how things were with Mike has to do with one of my other hot buttons.”
She looked back up at him, puzzled again.
He grinned a little sheepishly, “You know, that adolescent Lara Croft fantasy you nailed me about? Well, part of the mystique of you being my slave is the notion that you’re a dangerous woman – who I control. It’s that whole ‘evil spymaster and his gorgeous deadly henchwoman’ trope.”
“Yeah, maybe, okay, but I’m not killing anyone for you.”
Erik laughed. “Not necessary. But I do have other plans.”
“Yesss?” She asked with suspicion.
“I’m adding another trainer to your schedule.”
“Oh fucking joy.”
“She’s not really into kinkdom, but she’s been doing LARP and SCA for almost twenty years.”
“And that is…?”
“LARP stands for ‘live action role play’ and SCA is the Society for Creative Anachronism. Both groups like dressing up in costume and fighting with ancient weapons, like swords. She’s an expert on sword fighting, and she’s trained dozens of women.”
“You want me to learn how to fight with a sword?”
He nodded.
“Okay, I get why Mike is teaching me how to defend myself, and I’m even willing to learn how to use a gun, which Mike said is going to start next week by the way, but swords? What the hell? Why would I ever need to use a sword?”
“So you can fight in tournaments, on my behalf.”
“Oh sure,” she started with exaggerated casualness, “well if that’s all it is, then what the fuck are you thinking?”
“Okay, so there’s these tournaments in the kink world where trained subs fight each other. They use LARP swords, which are just really fancy foam rubber replicas with an internal stiffener. Getting hit with one hurts a lot less than being whacked with a cane, or tawse for instance.”
“So it’s like some gladiator thing? Where you doms all sit around, get drunk, and pound tables, while I sweat my ass off getting beat-up by some freaking Amazon with a sword?”
“Oh, so you’ve done it before.”
“So funny. So very funny.” She looked off into the distance for a moment, thoughtfully. “You’re serious, right.”
“Yep. There’s rules and all. You won’t get hurt. Not for real. It’s just another type of fantasy thing, sort of like pro-wrestling.”
“You’re not helping yourself with the whole pro-wrestling analogy.”
“What I meant is that part of what you learn is how to make it look real, but it’s all fake.”
“So is this a required thing, or can I say ‘no way’ if it’s all too weird?”
“I’d really like you to try it. Entering my own sword mistress into a tournament is definitely a huge fantasy for me. But if it doesn’t work out, then I’m not going to force you to do something.”
“Yeah, but that’s not exactly what I meant. I mean, will you kick me out if I don’t do it? End of job, go back to my apartment in the city – you did say that’d be what happens if I say ‘no,’ remember.”
“Okay, I should be specific. If you try learning sword fighting, do one tournament, and then you decide that you don’t ever want to do it again, then no, I won’t make it a condition of your summer job.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll learn… sword mistress shit. You’re kind of weird; you know that?”
He nodded at her, “I’m not the only one.”
“Point made… Master. So, what else?”
“Hmmm. Well, most of the rest you already know: my preferences in how you dress, that I like taking you in any hole whenever I want… um, what else? I do like you shaved smooth, but you already did that. Nipple rings, I like those.”
“Ouch.”
“I didn’t make it a requirement. Getting your nipples pierced would definitely cross over into a personal medical decision, sort of like what birth control you use. It’s not something that I’d ever make you do, one way or the other.”
“Yeah, talking about that stuff, there was an Ob-Gyn who works with kink folks that you told me about.”
“I talked to her and she has some time next Tuesday. Do you want to see her?
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Anything else about my list?”
“Uh, Deborah said something about laser hair removal instead of shaving.”
“Sure, although the laser works best with dark hair and it usually takes a few rounds of getting zapped before nothing grows back, but it’s a lot less painful than electrolysis and a treatment session is much faster. On the other hand, electrolysis is ‘one and done’; so the hair is never coming back. And it’s not as painful as waxing, which only lasts a few weeks anyway.”
“Not a big fan of waxing.”
“The real question is, are you sure you want to be bare forever? If you take out a nipple piercing, it’ll close up in a couple of days, like it never was there. Once you zap your pubic hair, it’s gone.”
“I really like being clean down there, and maybe they can do my legs too. It’d be nice to never have to shave.”
“Okay, we can set up something with a laser. We’ll see if your hair is dark enough. If it’s not, then you can decide about electrolysis.”
“The piercing thing though…”
“Like I said, no pressure there. That’s got to be your decision. Serena certainly doesn’t have any piercings.”
“Okay.”
“So, what about you? You’ve seen a bit of the kink world now. What feels like it clicks?”
Melissa struggled to answer, finding herself far more embarrassed than she expected.
Erik asked, “Old Catholic shame messages kick in?”
“I guess so. Wow, I’m sorry, I just… it’s hard to talk about what I like, when it’s such… weird stuff. It feels wrong. Really embarrassing.”
“It looked like it. So remember, it’s your job to be frank about these things, right? Apply all that Catholic conditioning about following orders to fulfilling your job requirements.”
Melissa laughed, “Yes sir, Master sir, slave owner sir. Okay, well I guess we know what’s obvious. I like being spanked and stuff. I love being tied up and played with. I’m still working on being able to take you all the way in my throat, and my butt’s a little sore, but I really do like pleasing you in those ways. I love seeing you get excited and making you cum.”
She thought for a little bit. “The pony stuff was sort of a ‘meh.’ Same with the pee-play. It wasn’t as disgusting as I thought it would be, but I’m definitely not drawn to it. The stuff with other women, well that still weirds me out. I can’t believe Deborah and I made out with each other for hours last night. That’s just… freaky.”
“Anything you want to try that we haven’t done?”
“I don’t really know. I mean, this is all still so new. I know there’s so much I don’t know.” She paused again to think, “I guess, maybe, the idea of a party or club sounds more interesting than I thought it would.”
“What about it?”
“Ah, something about having you show me off. I know I had a hard time accepting it when you and Serena were telling me how sexy and pretty I was, and it still doesn’t feel real, but there’s something about how you make me the center of your attention that is… wonderful. I can feel how aroused you get, and that does make me feel awesome.”
She smiled wryly, shaking her head a little bit. “I guess I’m arrogant enough to hope that other people in a group might react a little bit the same way. There’s something about how you talk about ‘showing me off’ that really makes me want to experience it. Of course, people might ignore me, and that would be pretty crushing.”
Erik chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t think so. Serena nailed it. You have a potent combination of virgin/slut innocence and physical beauty. You radiate a compelling sense of your own sexuality, without being self-conscious or manipulative about it. You’d light up any room that you walk into. I saw it at the club we went to that first night, but I think it was all so new for you that you weren’t really aware of how other people were reacting.”
“Well, we did sort of sit in the back with Deborah and Michael.”
“Lucky for you, then, that I’ve got some friends coming over tomorrow night. And we can go to a club on Saturday. I’ll be able to show you off all weekend.”
“Oh goody,” she deadpanned, feeling a sudden pang of insecurity.
Erik grinned reassuringly and returned his attention to caressing her breasts. She pushed away her fears about the next day, finding herself arching back a little bit, making herself more accessible. She closed her eyes and felt a thrumming deep in her pelvis. Even though they had been talking in a very matter of fact tone, she had been much more aroused by their conversation than she had realized.
She murmured, “You just going to keep on teasing me like that?”
He looked over at his desk clock and replied, “Nope. I’m going to send you away to get dressed. Cathy should be here to take you out shopping in a few minutes. So go get changed, and no slowing down to masturbate.”
“What? You’re going to leave me hanging like this?”
“I am a sadist, after all.”
Melissa stared at him, unsure whether to beg or to be angry at herself for being so desperate.
He lifted her from his lap and gave her a swat on her butt. “Off with you! Get changed.”
She snorted, then flounced away, playfully exaggerating her surprisingly real frustration.
Reaching her room, she slammed the door closed. She stood with her arms crossed for a moment, before walking to the closet while she unzipped the side seam of her bodice. In the closet, she let the bodice slide to the floor. Reaching up, she pulled the still damp blouse over her head and tossed it near the bodice. She kicked off her shoes and unzipped the layered peasant skirt, letting it fall away as she stepped in front of the three-way mirror.
Examining her naked body, she told herself, “Oh he’s got you good. I can’t believe I’m this desperate.” Growling in frustration, she slumped down on the floor, legs sprawled out in front of her. Looking at herself in the mirror again, she noted that her belly was already firmer, even after just a few days of Mistress Amy’s training regimen.
“At least something’s working out,” she chided herself. Puzzled by her negativity, she wondered why she seemed to be overreacting to Erik toying with her. After all, he had done far worse than send her away unsatisfied. The realization settled in: her reaction was fear. Being sent away meant rejection. He didn’t want her.
She could tell herself, “no, he’s just playing his games,” and she knew that she was right, but somewhere inside, her fear of rejection would simply not let go.
She slumped backward against a bank of drawers, feeling a cold fear about how hard she had fallen for Erik. He clearly liked her, but everyone had warned her that he was an island unto himself. At the end of the summer, she had no doubt that she would be gone, and he would be off on some new assignment.
Tightly pursing her lips, she decided it was better to accept his rejection now, in these little things, than to let herself hope for something more and then be destroyed by his final turning away at the end of the summer.
Exhaling a sigh, she was just gathering herself to stand up when there was a knock at the door. Erik’s voice penetrated easily, “Cathy just called. She had an emergency come up with a film client. She can’t make today.”
After an awkward moment of silence, Melissa called back, “Okay.”
Erik called back, “We might as well not waste the time. Pick out something appropriate and meet me behind the looking glass.”
Her heart pounded harder as she called back, “Yes Master.”