Melissa walked down to the open meadow near the stream. It felt good to be wearing blue jeans and hiking boots. Her feet were very happy not to be in high heels.
She would have liked sneakers even better, but before he had left in the morning, Erik had warned her the meadow would be muddy from the rain last night. Melissa had slept so soundly last night that she hadn’t even realized a storm had blown through.
Down in the meadow, she saw Mike waiting for her. As she had gotten dressed for meeting Mike, she had felt very self-consciousness about his being a regular, married man, with no involvement in the kink world. She had almost dug out one of the bras that were still packed in her suitcase. She had promised Erik, however, that she wouldn’t wear underwear while she was there. Compromising, Melissa had created a layered look, wearing a simple cotton camp shirt over a camisole top made of supportive mesh. To respect Erik’s intent, she had only buttoned enough of the shirts buttons to keep it from falling open and exposing her breasts. She didn’t want to flash Mike a view of her nipples, which were entirely too visible through the mesh of the camisole.
At times like this, she was frustrated that nearly every piece of clothing in her closet at Erik’s house was sheer enough to show at least a hint of what she generally considered her ‘private parts.’ When she was in a self-conscious mindset, it seemed insane that she willingly wore such revealing clothes out in public.
At least with Cathy’s help, Melissa was reasonably confident that she looked more ‘high-fashion’ than ‘high-slut’ when she went out – not that her closet didn’t also have an abundance of slut-wear and bondage-wear, but those items were fortunately reserved for wearing around the house or for going out to Erik’s BDSM clubs.
She reminded herself that when she first arrived at Erik’s house, she was afraid of spending her entire day naked, or only wearing a collar and leash. Fortunately, Erik preferred her in clothes that at least gave some pretense of covering her body. Cathy knew that he also had a penchant for her to wear outfits that reflected a historical time period, hence the abundance of corsets and full skirts in her closet.
While Melissa thought this playacting was mostly fun, she had found it wonderfully comforting this morning to simply put on blue jeans and hiking boots.
As she entered the meadow, she saw that Mike had set up a small folding table on the far side, which held a black plastic box the size of a small purse and a stack of small cardboard boxes. On the near side of the meadow, there were several person-shaped cut-outs mounted on wooden stakes.
He called out a friendly, “Hello” as she walked across to meet him.
“Hi,” she responded, “so I’m guessing no martial arts stuff today?”
“Nope, I picked up your new pistol from the gunsmith yesterday.”
Mike unsnapped two catches on the black plastic box and opened it up, revealing a small black pistol inside.
Melissa looked at it with suspicion, “Oh.”
“You did say that you were willing to learn.”
“Yeah. I did, didn’t I…” She looked at the gun awhile longer, not getting any closer. “It’s a lot smaller than I thought. And it looks like it’s made out of plastic.”
“It’s a DB 380 – sort of an updated version of James Bond’s Walther PPK. Most of the weapon is plastic, so it only weighs about half a pound. The whole point of a weapon like this is to be small and lightweight, with low recoil and generally easy to use. Also, there’s no safety. Once you chamber a round, it’s ready to fire. The magazine only holds six rounds.”
“Ah, no safety?”
“Nope. You’ll normally carry it without a round in the barrel, so it can’t fire.” He reached down and lifted the pistol out of the box. It barely seemed bigger than his hand.
Turning it over, he pointed to an empty space in the grip and said, “Right now, there’s no magazine in the weapon.” He turned gun upright and drew back the slide, angling the pistol away from them and showed her the interior of the firing chamber. “There’s also no bullet in the chamber, so the weapon is safe. You should never handle a weapon without checking both of those things.”
“Until you’ve checked a weapon yourself and know it’s unloaded, you should always treat it as loaded and dangerous.”
“Yeah – no problem with that. Guns are kind of scary, no matter what.”
“They are,”He agreed. Then he let go of the slide, and it snapped back forward. He offered her the gun. “Here, do you want to try holding it?”
She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly while reminding herself that she had promised to learn how to shoot. “Okay.” She reached out, and he handed her the pistol.
She held it uncertainly. “It really is light. Wow, I guess I expected a gun to be a big, heavy metal thing.”
“Well, most weapons are bigger and heavier than this one. But don’t worry, it can be just as deadly.”
Looking at him out of the corner of her eye, she drolly replied, “Oh, that’s reassuring.”
He smiled, “It’s good to always keep that fact clearly in mind. Anyway, go ahead and check for yourself that it’s unloaded.”
She repeated his moves to check that there was no magazine and then she worked the slide while he showed her the details. Once she had repeated that process a few times, he said, “Okay, now why don’t you point it at one of those targets and try pulling the trigger?”
“Okay, but it’s not going to shoot, right?”
“Right. No bullet, no bang, bang.”
She turned to face the targets and lifted the pistol, taking a two-handed stance like she had seen on television cop shows. She pointed the gun at the middle target and slowly squeezed the trigger until it clicked.
Mike nodded, “Not bad.” Then he led her through the motions a dozen more times, refining her technique, step by step.
Finally, he reached back to the plastic box and pulled out a small black shape. “This is a magazine. It has six bullets already loaded in it.”
Tilting the weapon sideways in her hand, he showed her how the magazine slid in and latched itself in place. “So, there’s still no live round in the chamber. Pulling the trigger won’t do anything, but as soon as you pull the slide back and let it go, that will put a round into the barrel, and it’ll be ready to fire. Remember, no safety, so at that point, if you pull the trigger, it will shoot. The next round will be automatically loaded in, and the weapon will be ready to fire again. Got it?”
“I think so,” she answered, doing her best to quell her nervousness.
“When you do fire a round, even though the recoil is pretty light, the gun will kick, so hold onto it firmly, but not with a death grip.”
“First, though, eye pro and ear pro.” He reached into a pocket and pulled out yellow-tinted glasses and a pair of squishy ear plugs. With his free hand, he took the pistol she was holding, then gave her the eyeglasses and earplugs.
Once she was set, he gave her back the gun and asked, “Are you ready to work the slide and take your first shot?”
“I guess so.”
“Okay, good enough. Go ahead and pull back the slide.”
She reached up and pulled back the slide, then let it snap closed, the same as she had done before. She carefully held her trigger finger against the outside of the trigger guard, as he had shown her a few minutes earlier.
“Okay, you’re live. Now point the weapon at the center target. Line the sights up on the red circle in the middle. Then squeeze the trigger slowly.”
She followed his directions. Instead of a ‘click’ this time, there was a loud ‘bang’ and the gun suddenly jumped in her hand. She was startled. “Wow.”
He cautioned her, “Remember, the next round is already in the barrel, and the weapon is ready to fire. You’ve got five more bullets, so go ahead and shoot five times, until you’re empty, okay?”
Melissa nodded, then carefully took aim and fired five slow shots. When she was done, Mike had her set the gun down on the table and they walked over to the target. She was disappointed to see a scattering of holes all over the target, with only one in the outer circle.
She looked over at him, “That’s not very good, is it?”
“For a beginner, that’s great. Only one of your shots missed the target.”
She counted and realized there were only five holes in the cardboard. “Oh.” Then she looked around. “Where did the bullets go?”
“Into the hillside. That’s why we’re shooting in this direction.”
“So… is this gun not very accurate, or is it me, or what?”
“It’s only got a four-inch barrel, so it’s not super accurate, but mostly it’s just because you need practice.”
“So what could you do?”
“At this range? I’d probably get about half of them in the ten ring.”
She looked at the small inner circle he pointed out and said, “Shit.”
“Well, when it’s what you do for a living, you get good at it.”
He started walking back to the table, and she walked along beside him, considering what he said. “I guess being good at shooting is how you stayed alive.”
He agreed, “That too. Anyway, you don’t need to get to that sort of level. In fact, what you just did is probably good enough. Hell, it’s better than most of the thugs and local militias that you might run across. Those guys, they seriously can’t shoot for shit. The real trick you have to learn is being that good when you’re scared pissless, when your adrenaline is jacked up so high that your heart is leaping out of your chest, and you lose all fine motor control.”
“Oh. Are there really a lot of them out there? I mean, Erik keeps on saying ‘third world hell holes.’ I never really thought about that sort of thing when I decided to go into Archeology.”
“In the US, everything you see on the news… in movies… it’s the bad stuff. And that’s a terrible distortion. I spent a lot of time in those places. Nearly everyone I met went out of their way to be nice to me. Sure, there’s countries where the government doesn’t work very well… and armed gangs are part of the landscape. But even in those countries, ordinary life mostly still goes on, except it’s scarier for ordinary people because untrained bad guys with guns can be really unpredictable.”
He shrugged, then added, “When you unexpectedly run into those sorts of bad guys, they can react violently. Sometimes, in the teams, our only option was to take them out as fast as we could. That’s when everyone’s adrenaline level kicks up a few notches, which is where practice comes in. After putting a few thousand rounds downrange, firing a weapon starts to become an extension of your arm. You don’t have to think about it anymore. You can be accurate – even when you’re scared.
“Anyway,” he grinned reassuringly, “I can’t imagine you’ll be working in places where armed gangs like that are a problem. So, it’s highly unlikely you’ll ever need to point a weapon at someone, but in case I’m wrong…”
He picked up the pistol and pressed a button just in front of the trigger guard. Then he waved the barrel back and forth at the table. A bright green dot of laser light danced across the table’s surface.
He explained, “This helps cheat. Normally, when you pick up the weapon, the aiming laser activates. I had turned it off when you were first learning.”
“Well, it’s important to learn how to shoot with just the iron sights. Also, a normal Class 3R laser doesn’t show up in bright sunlight like this. I had the gunsmith change it out for a laser that’s a hundred times more powerful. But this laser isn’t ‘eye-safe’ anymore. If that light gets in your eyes or anyone else’s eyes, it’ll do real damage.”
“That doesn’t sound safe.”
“No, it’s not, but remember, this is a weapon. It’s made to kill people. And it’s your weapon. I want this pistol to be as effective a weapon as I can make it, so if I’m wrong, and you ever have to use it for real, it will keep you alive. The ammo too; it’s a special copper-jacketed hollow point that penetrates and then mushrooms out to several times the size of the original bullet. It does a huge amount of damage for only a nine millimeter round.”
“Uh, that’s kind of gruesome.”
“Yep. It is pretty gruesome. But if someone is trying to rape or kill you, this weapon and ammo will give you the best possible chance to kill them first. And remember what I taught you last week, the most important way to stay safe is to see situations before they develop and avoid them, or know how to run like hell to get out of there. The only time you should ever need something like this pistol is if everything has gone to hell, but then you’re going to really, really want to have it.”
“That’s… sort of sobering.”
“It is serious stuff… but I don’t want to be too heavy about it. For now, this is simply a skill you’re learning. Years from now, when you’re actually going somewhere a little questionable, then you can decide if you want to carry a weapon. Right now, you don’t have to worry about it. So let’s just practice the skill part and put a few more rounds downrange.”
* * *
Serena was sitting in a chaise lounge on the terrace when Melissa and Mike walked back up from the meadow. Melissa was carrying her black plastic gun case and a stack of targets filled with holes. Mike had the folding table and stakes.
Serena pushed up the wide brim of her sun hat and said, “Oh look, the mighty hunters have returned. She brings us large white pieces of paper to cook for tonight.”
Melissa held up the targets, showing off their many holes. “Yes, but these are very, very dead large white pieces of paper.”
Serena turned to Mike, “Wow, you’re turning her into a steely-eyed killer.”
“Damn straight,” he replied. “She’s a heartbreaker and a life-taker. A regular Indiana Jones.”
Melissa snorted, “Except Erik thinks I’m Lara Croft, Tomb Raider.”
Serena burst out laughing, “Oh God, that is just like Erik. You know he’s got this thing about action babes.”
“Uh. Yeah. The topic has come up, maybe a couple of dozen times.”
Serena dissolved into laughter again.
Mike shrugged and waved to them both as he headed for his car.
Melissa sat down on a chaise lounge across from Serena and then bent over to unlace her boots. Once they were loose, she kicked off her boots and pulled off her socks, wiggling her toes. She felt sticky and overheated from concentrating so hard on learning to shoot while being out in the midday sun. After looking around to make sure that Mike was gone, she undid her camp shirt and took it off. Still feeling hot and sweaty, she stood up and shed her blue jeans as well. After adjusting the chaise lounge to be flat, she flopped down on its soft cushions.
Serena eyed her appraisingly, “Comfortable now?”
“I was hot.”
“Yeah, you got that right. Fucking sizzling.”
“You flirting with me?”
“All the time, babe, all the time. You know I’d go down on you in a second.”
Melissa stretched out suggestively, “Now you’re just making me hotter.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m not sure that’s possible.” Serena raised her knees up, letting the hem of her sundress fall down to her waist, exposing her bare pubic mound. She reached down to tease apart her labia and then she drew her fingers along her inner cleft. Bringing her hand back up, she studied her glistening fingers in the sun and announced, “Yep, you got me wet.”
Then Serena stood up and unzipped her sundress, letting it fall to a puddle around her feet on the flagstones. She complained to Melissa, “See: sundress, fuck-me heels, sun bonnet, no underwear – I dressed to match Erik’s standards and then I find you in blue jeans and boots. There’s simply no justice in this world.”
Melissa looked up at her, “I don’t know, you look pretty damn hot to me too.”
Serena laughed and knelt between Melissa’s legs. With a salacious grin, Serena leaned over to take one long lick up Melissa’s inner thigh, sliding her tongue momentarily between Melissa’s labia, and then up her torso, pushing her camisole upward. Melissa helped shrug off her camisole, over her head.
Serena propped herself up on her elbows, looking down at Melissa, announcing, “You’re wet too.”
“What a fucking surprise. I think I’ve been constantly wet, ever since I got here.”
“Yeah, Erik’ll do that to you.”
“Actually, my current state of arousal has more to do with a beautiful naked woman lying on top of me right now, but Erik is… shit! Did he tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“This morning, in the shower, he used the “L” word.”
“Uh… not lesbian. Love?”
Serena shrieked. “He fucking told you that? He said, ‘I love you’?”
Melissa nodded again.
Serena demanded, “He, for real, said those words: ‘I. Love. You’?”
“Oh my fucking God… so?”
“So what did you tell him, doofus?”
“Well, first I panicked.”
“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.”
“Then I said it; I told him I loved him too.”
Serena shrieked again. “Oh my fucking God! I can’t believe it. Erik. Mr. Peter-fucking-Pan himself. And it’s only been a couple of weeks. Holy shit!”
“So I take it that this is out of character for him?”
“Does the pope crap on bears in the woods? Yeah, it’s a little out of Erik’s normal comfort zone, like ninety thousand fucking miles out of his comfort zone. Good freaking God, how did you manage to twist him around your finger like that? I mean, were you like, giving him the blow job of his life in that shower, or something.”
“Actually, I think he was kind of in the middle of giving me an enema, or something.”
“Eww, unnecessary detail.”
“What? You’ve given me enemas before. Hell, you were the first person who ever shoved her tongue up my ass.”
“Yeah, well, I guess so. But then what happened?”
“Well, then you stuck your finger in my…”
“No, you dim twat, what happened after your mutual declaration of undying love?”
Melissa laughed, “Hah, got you. Anyway, what happened? Well, I guess he went off to work.”
“So what? He says ‘I love you,’ then slam, bam, thank you, mam, off to work?”
“Okay, so does that mean was he all weird about it, and then he ran? Or what?”
“No, he was just being Erik. Cool as always. You know, ’I love you. Just stating the facts. On to the next thing.’”
“God, he has the soul of an engineer.”
“Well, I don’t think it’s that bad.”
“Now that’s low…”
“Okay, I agree, but wow… no matter what, ’I love you.’ That’s big.”
“Maybe. I’m not sure how permanent it is. I mean, I didn’t get the sense he was professing some undying, soul-mated, forever and ever love. It was more like, ‘Hey, I love you. Are the Bulls playing in Topeka new week?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah. Well, I guess we’ll just have to see what happens. But it’s hopeful. I mean, he’s never told any other girl he loved her. Not that I know of at least.”
“Oh come on, he likes boys way less than you like girls.”
“Hey, I only made out with a girl once, maybe twice, before I met you.”
“Could’a fooled me.”
“Then the first time we made out, like I said, you stuck your tongue up my ass.”
“And hey, it got Erik all horny as hell.”
“True. He was pretty rock hard. God, I love that man’s dick. Aw hell, I’m just shallow.”
“Not if you can take him all the way in, you’re not.”
“Hah, hah, very funny – though I am getting lots better at deep throating him. Did you know that yesterday he and Michael… were in both my holes at the same time?”
“Double penetration. You know, cunt and ass at the same time.”
“Your first time?”
“Well duh. You know me. I’ve led a kind of sheltered life until I wandered into your clutches.”
“Erik’s clutches. I’m just a favorite fuck toy.”
“Of his or mine?”
“Both, I hope.”
“Well, I’d call you something more than just a favorite fuck toy. You’re a friend, at least, I hope you are.”
“Besties. Forever. With benefits even.”
“Benefits, huh? Well then shut up and kiss me.”
Serena lowered herself down on top of Melissa, compressing their breasts together. Serena reached around behind Melissa’s head, pulling her into a long, passionate kiss. For many minutes, they kissed back and forth, exploring each other’s mouths with their tongues, nibbling on one another’s lips, and tracing lines of kisses along each other’s necks.
Before long, Serena’s leg slid between Melissa’s. They mutually rubbed themselves against each other’s legs.
Serena, however, noticed Melissa’s focus begin to drift away. Perplexed, Serena asked, “Is something wrong?”
Melissa stammered, embarrassed, “Oh, I’m sorry. No, you’re wonderful. I just… I don’t know; it’s weird. I mean, if Erik loves me, is he like, my boyfriend or something? Does that mean I shouldn’t be making out with you?”
Serena tried to stop her laughter but failed. She apologized, “I’m sorry. I’m not making fun of you, but, you know, we’re talking about the guy who shared you with his best business buddy yesterday, when they had both their dicks in you, right?”
“Uh yeah, kind of weird, huh? It’s just that I never know what the rules are. I mean, when I sucked off that bartender dude from the party the other night, apparently that was a big no-no.”
“Okay, yeah, I get it. I know the rules are a little weird, but, thank God, Erik’s not a big stickler for rules. And a lot of the rules are about context. At the party, you were, like, in full-bore sex-slave submissive role. The whole party was a quasi-formal BDSM role thing – I mean, whipping posts, bound serving girl, the whole nine yards. So in that environment, as a sub, the rule is that you’re not supposed to initiate sex. Hell, you’re not supposed to have any sexual contact at all without your Master’s permission. But that’s just part of the dance – and hopefully playing inside those rules, playing with those rules, is part of what makes things interesting.
“Plus, Erik’s the one who put you and me together. And he explicitly gave me permission to have sex with you when he wasn’t around. You know, sort of like a delegation of dom privilege. So hey, if it’ll make you feel better, I can always tie you up, tease you until you beg and plead to come, and then make you come so many times that you beg me to stop.”
“Oh God, I’d love that. And feel free to give me a good spanking too. I’m sure I’ve been a naughty girl.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you have. But before we go there, I just want to point out that this is the sort of stuff you really need to work out with Erik. Having open discussions and negotiations is essential for a healthy kink relationship. I mean, ‘can you fuck whoever you want?’ Can he? What kinds of kink do you want to explore? What about him? What kinds of kink are off limits? All of that. Keeping secrets is poison to a kink relationship. Well, I guess it’s poison to any relationship, but I’ve only been around kink for a long while.”
“Ah yeah, can I ask, I mean, what is your kink? I get that you’re paid for a lot of this, but it seems like you’re really into it too. The thing is, I see you take on so many roles, I’m not sure what you really want.”
“I like being around nice people. You’re nice people. Erik is too, most of the time. Hell, most of the people in kink are nerds of some type or another. There’s a few really fucked-up nasty assholes, but they’re mostly pretty easy to spot, and everyone steers clear of them. It is important, however, to learn how to be safe. I know that Mike’s been teaching you how to take care of yourself, and that’s a good thing. But it’s also stuff like always having a safe-call time on a first date.”
“Yeah, you give a friend of yours the name, photo, and phone number of who you’re going out with. You arrange to call your friend at a specified time after the date. You work out code words to say whether or not you’re in trouble, like saying, ‘everything’s great’ means ‘I’m in trouble, send the cops.’ That sort of thing.”
“That all sounds pretty scary.”
“Yeah, well I’ve run across some real creeps out there, but if you’re with Erik, you don’t have to worry so much. If somebody tried to hurt you, he’d tear them apart, or die trying. God, I saw him go all protective once; it was pretty scary. I mean, you know he’s kind of intense sometimes?”
“Well, this was like that, multiplied by fifteen or twenty. He scared the shit out of the other guy. Hey, I thought he was going to tear the other guy apart, literally.”
“It was at a club. There was a girl there that Erik had dated a couple of times, but then he’d moved on like he usually does – or did. Anyway, some fucked-up creep is being all over-the-top dom on her, and he really started hurting her. This was upstairs in a closed room, and there weren’t any DMs around, but Erik and I could hear her screaming.
“Erik yelled for me to get a DM. As I was running down the stairs, I saw him kick down the door. I mean, honest to God, one kick, and bam! He was through that door so fast, it was fucking death on a stick.
“So I grabbed a DM and ran back upstairs. We go in, and Erik’s got this guy pinned to a wall, the guy’s fucking feet were off the floor, and Erik was holding him with only one hand around his throat. The guy’s all bug-eyed, and he had pissed himself.
“We walk in, and Erik’s talking to him, real quietly, in this intense, ‘I’m going to fucking kill you’ way, telling this guy exactly what’s going to happen if he ever does something like that to another girl, ever. Erik’s old girlfriend is weeping in a corner. She’s a total fucking wimp. I never saw what he liked in her. Anyway, the DM, who’s a huge guy, walks carefully around Erik’s side so that Erik can see him before he gets close. Then he says, ‘Sir, I can take care of this now, if that’s okay?’
“I mean, DMs are pretty good at deescalating situations. He knew that Erik was righteously pissed off. I guess he also knew Erik well enough to know he wasn’t a hothead.
“By this time, the guy’s starting to go purple and pass out, so Erik lets him slide down the wall, into this pile of fucked-up asshole on the floor. Then a bunch of other folks rush into the room and start taking care of the girl.
“Erik just gives the DM a nod and says, ‘Thanks,” then he takes my hand and off we go. When we got back here, Erik wanted me to take the lead, and we had the gentlest sex I’d ever had with him. I’m pretty sure he cried afterward – but don’t ever tell him I told you that.”
“I won’t. But why do you think he, you know, cried.”
“I’m not sure. We talked a little bit about it, but he was doing a ‘clam-up inside’ thing. What I do know for sure is that Erik hates bullies. I mean, he hates them, with a passion. But so much of what he is, what he does, can look a lot like a bully, at least if you didn’t know how much he cares. I think that really bothers him, how thin that line sometimes is.”
“I guess I see that.”
“Yeah, but you haven’t seen him when he really just shuts down, or turns something off. It’s like he just doesn’t care anymore. Early on, I saw him do stuff that was so hurtful to some of the girls he’s gone out with – not anything that he did to them, but the way he’d just dump them when it wasn’t working out. He’d try to be nice about saying goodbye, but once he decided it was over, that was it: dead, gone, done.”
“Ouch. That’s a little scary.”
“Yeah, but he’s gotten better about it. I mean, he and Deborah are still friends, although they don’t really fuck each other now, even though he and Michael are that close.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of weird, in so many ways.”
“Guess so – but, you know, sort of par for the course in the kink world. Anyway, he knows now that dumping a girl like that is wrong. I’m not sure he understood that before. He treated girlfriends sort of like business deals: if it doesn’t work out, cut your losses and move on. But, of course, if he never committed in the first place, then it’s not going to work out, no matter what. That’s why it’s so amazing that he told you he loved you. This is, like, virgin territory for him, at least as far as I know.”
“Okay, now I’m officially scared.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a downer.”
“No, I’m glad I know. But it’s not just Erik and ‘does he love me, does he not?’; it’s also this whole fucking kink world. I was living this nice vanilla life, only a few weeks ago. Now I can’t imagine being happy with a guy who didn’t want to tie me up and whip me. How fucking crazy is that? It’s like, I had one drunken fling with another woman sophomore year, and now I totally love making out with you. Hell, I just get wet looking at you sometimes.”
“Aww, you say the nicest things.”
“But you know what I mean – like my whole goddamn world just went ‘tilt!’”
“Yeah, I get it. But that’s good for you. Keeps you adaptable, right. You wouldn’t want life to be boring, cooped up in an academic ivory tower?”
“No. Life sure as hell isn’t boring. Ah, but one last question before we get back to making out. When you mentioned my misspent years in university, that reminded me, what the hell do I tell Professor Macklin, if I ever run into her again? She was my Women’s Studies professor, and I really loved the class, but it was also super-scary to learn what it used to be like to be a woman in the bad-old-days. Even getting honest about all the crap we still have to put up with today is kind of scary. I’d never want to go back to the old days when women had no power, but here I am, willingly to let myself be some rich guy’s sex slave. I mean, what’s wrong with this picture?”
“Well, if you didn’t have a choice, that’d be wrong. But you do have a choice, and you’ve chosen what you wanted. Besides, Erik’s not one of those dickheads who tries to control everything you do and every part of your life.”
“Okaaay, but why did I want to be his sex slave. What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing. Being a submissive is what floats your boat. I mean, Erik’s got all these egghead theories about ‘deviant sexual lifestyles,’ and I guess some of them are kind of interesting, but that shit is all about thinking, not feeling. Hell, he even reads academic papers on sexuality. No wonder you two are together.”
“Yeah, well he reads academic papers on Archeology too, and that’s what brought us together.”
“Yeah, okay, so he’s weird. Anyway, if what makes you come again and again is being his sex slave, then why the hell fight that? Especially since he’s not asking you to give up all that other ‘women’s rights’ stuff. As best I know, Erik really, truly believes in the ability of women to be out there in the business world. He treats women as equals. It’s only inside the boundaries of kink that he treats submissives as submissives, and that’s true for both male and female submissives, although Erik doesn’t like most male submissives.”
“They tend to be too passive/aggressive for his taste. He likes his submissives straight-up feisty, not whiny and manipulative. I think that’s why he likes gay submissive males better than straight ones.”
“Okaay. But going back to my being submissive, you’re saying it’s okay because it’s just a kink thing, not how I live my ‘real’ life.”
“No, I’m saying it’s okay because it feels okay to you – and that’s true for however much of your life you choose to make submissive. You know, it can be just in the bedroom, or all the time, or whatever – the important thing is that it’s your choice, and you’re happy with it. And as best I can see it, you’re pretty happy being Erik’s sex slave. So if that changes, then something’s wrong, and you got to fix it. Until then, why waste time worrying?”
Melissa laughed, “Cause I’m a girl.”
Serena agreed, “It is our curse – overthinking everything, plus worrying about shit we can’t do anything about. Sometimes, I envy guys. They’re so fucking clueless.”
Melissa chuckled, “True.”
“So anyway, all your questions answered?”
“Yeah, I guess. Except you sort of side-stepped my question about what you want. I mean, you wandered off into this scary shit about safe calls and code words, but you never said why you’re into kink? I mean, I see you slip in and out of so many different roles, I don’t know what you really like for yourself.”
A bittersweet smile ghosted across Serena’s face. “Roles. Hey, I’m an actress, well, sort of. When I was in high school, I won the Iowa State Acting Competition. It came with a college scholarship, except they withdrew it a couple of months later for ‘inappropriate conduct,’ those fucking self-righteous assholes.”
“It’s not like I was really planning to go to college anyway.”
“Yep, honest to goodness small town hayseed, born and bred.”
“So what happened when you got to the big city?”
“I learned that making a living as an actor is hard. Really, really hard. Mostly, you wait tables. Some of the girls did escort work, which paid a lot better, so I tried it. What I liked was that it was acting, even if it was an audience of one. I learned that I loved figuring out what the guy’s fantasy was, and then becoming that woman for him.
“From there, I sort of slid sideways into the kink world. Mostly, people who are into kink are a lot nicer than the dickhead business assholes you meet in escort work. Plus, the kink roles are easy to understand, and kink people are great at telling you exactly what turns them on. So I take on a role. Then I play with it a little, explore, see what the client reacts to, find out what really gets them going.
“For me, that’s what’s fun. Kink is mostly good people, with weird tastes. So with a client, I get to become their whole focus, the woman of their darkest fantasies, the woman who is everything they ever wanted, and, wow, they want me so badly. Their need, it’s just one huge fucking rush.”
“Sure, but we’re also old friends, sort of. I mean, he knows the whole acting thing I do, how I connect with someone by becoming their fantasy, so that does take some of the juice out of it, but it also means I can be more playful with him, and him with me too. He knows I love playing a role, so he lets me try out a lot of different ones. It keeps things interesting He’s a good guy. I miss him when he goes off on assignment for months at a time.”
“Does he always pay you? I mean, if that’s okay to ask.”
“Sure, it’s what I do, and I don’t have a sex life outside of work. That’s a boundary I set, early on. Maybe, one of these days, I’ll stop – do something else. Next year, I’m turning thirty-two. At some point, I’m going to have to figure out kids and all that stuff. But I’ve saved up money, and I’ll have options. For now, I live simple, and I enjoy what I’m doing.”
“Huh, Deborah is worried about kids too.”
“Yeah, well, she’s older, plus she’s high maintenance.”
“You, ah, you don’t like each other much, do you?”
“Well, we don’t hate each other. We’re just real different. She grew up rich and privileged, but the thing is, her dad fucked her every night, and her mom looked the other way, so she could keep living the good life.”
“Wow, I didn’t know that. I mean, I had a sense something wasn’t happy there, but that’s seriously… wrong.”
“Yeah, well at least her dad kept it in the family. My mom and dad didn’t just fuck me in private, they passed me around too.”
“Oh my God Serena. I’m so sorry…”
“Hey, I’m okay. I stopped crying about it a long time ago.”
“But… that’s… that’s awful. Did you ever get help? I mean, if it’s okay to ask.”
“Sure. After I started making good money, I saw a shrink for awhile. She was pretty good, and hey, I’m really grateful, but now, it’s all just kind of matter of fact for me. I mean, I always treated it as sort of matter of fact, even as a kid. My shrink said that made my ‘recovery process’ a lot easier.”
“So having sex now, that doesn’t remind you of the abuse?”
“Not with good people, like you and Erik. Even Deborah. Hell, I’ve let her pee all over me and really enjoyed it, at least in the moment. Sure, there’s some assholes I’ve run across who I can’t stand, but that’s life.”
Melissa slowly shook her head. “Wow. I’m amazed; you’re so strong. I… I’m really glad you’re my friend. Um, I have to admit, it’s still a little weird that Erik’s paying you, but I’m hugely glad you’re in my life.”
“Hey, I’d be your friend, even if Erik wasn’t paying me. And I’d also be sorely tempted to jump your bones – but that’d be breaking my own rules, plus I really do mostly prefer guys for sex. So for now, this is great, we can be friends, and we can fuck each other senseless.”
“Aw, you say the nicest things…”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
Serena looked offended, “What? You called me ‘mam’? Ohh, you’re going to pay for that.”
Melissa clapped her hands together in excitement, “Goody! I was sooo hoping.”
Serena gave her a stern look, then stood up, “First, I’ve got to find some rope.”
“There’s some rope in…”
“Be quiet, silly girl. I know where to look.”
Serena walked off, wearing only her heels. As Melissa watched her go, she got a better understanding of why Erik preferred her walking around in stiletto heels. The exaggerated height of the heels gave Serena’s legs a long line and very tight definition. Melissa smirked, realizing that she had given up worrying about finding another woman sexually attractive.
Once Serena disappeared from view into the house, Melissa laid back on the cushions, with a thoughtful sigh. She had been jarred by Serena’s casual revelation of her childhood abuse, as well as Deborah’s. Knowing that the two women she liked in the kink world had been sexually abused as children made Melissa wonder how healthy her submissive relationship really was with Erik.
She also remembered Erik’s caution about whether she had some hidden childhood abuse of her own. Melissa was unsettled by the idea that being abused as a kid was common in the kink world. “If it’s true,” she murmured to herself, “what does that say about me?”
Then she recalled Serena’s warning about overthinking things. Laughing at her instinctive need to worry, she promised herself to ask Erik if there was a real link between someone being abused as a child and then seeking a kink lifestyle as an adult. For now, she made a solemn vow not waste any more time worrying about things she couldn’t control.
Stilling her mind and closing her eyes, she tried to relax and focused on returning to her earlier state of playful arousal. She was just starting to slip into the warmth of that feeling when she heard the clack of Serena’s heels across the flagstones.
Opening her eyes, she saw Serena standing over her, wearing a black leather underbust corset and holding several bundles of soft black rope.
Melissa asked, “Hey gorgeous, where’d you get the corset?”
Serena smiled, “Your closet.” She turned around and commanded, “Lace me up.”
Melissa sat up and complied, pulling the laces snug from above and below until the loops at Serena’s waist hung down to the backs of her knees. Melissa asked, “Is that tight enough, Mistress?”
“No. I want it to hurt. That’ll make me pissed off, and then I’ll take it out on you.”
Melissa felt a perverse thrill run through her. “Yes, Mistress.” She pulled the laces tight until the waist loops reached the flagstones. “Better Mistress?”
Melissa tied the laces into a bow, then pulled the bow loops long and tied them into another bow, to keep the knotted laces from hanging too low.
Serena stepped away, turning around. She stretched and wriggled a little bit to adjust herself in the corset. “Good. Wearing these goddamn things always makes me bitchy as hell.” She stared angrily at Melissa. “But you like wearing corsets, don’t you? You can’t fool me; you subs love the feeling of being confined.”
Melissa hung her head, replying bashfully, “Yes Mistress.”
Pointing to the chaise lounge, Serena commanded, “Lie down, face up.” Melissa hurried to comply. Serena studied her thoughtfully, hefting the ropes idly in one hand, then ordered her, “Scoot down about a foot.”
Once Melissa was in position, Serena tied ropes around each of her wrists, leading the ropes down past Melissa’s feet, to the base of the chaise lounge, where Serena tied them tight.
Melissa was puzzled why her arms were tied to the bottom of the chaise lounge, rather than up past her head. Her confusion was soon cleared up when Serena lifted both of Melissa’s legs up in the air, over Melissa’s head, and then a little past. She was left resting only on her upper back and shoulders, her back pulled into a tight curve, with her buttocks up in the air.
Serena then spread Melissa’s legs apart, tying each of Melissa’s ankles to the top corners of the chaise lounge.
Melissa carefully protested, “Uh, Mistress, I’m kind of twisted into a pretzel here.”
“Yes, you are… and what do you say to your nice Mistress?”
“Uh, thank you, Mistress?”
“Correcto mundo.” With a knowing smile, Serena stroked the back of Melissa’s thighs, ghosting her caress past Melissa’s glistening labia.
Serena continued, “So, this position leaves you both completely exposed and totally immobile. I have access to this…” she slid a finger into Melissa’s vagina, pressing upwards against her G-spot, which elicited an involuntary gasp from Melissa, “…and this…” sliding her wet finger back out, Serena then pressed it firmly against Melissa’s sphincter, which relaxed open, welcoming the penetration.
With a broader grin, Serena removed her finger and returned to light stroking of Melissa’s thighs and buttocks, just skirting the edges of all of her truly sensitive areas.
Breathing hard, Melissa asked, “Please Mistress, let me come just once. I’ll be good. I promise.”
“Oh, you miss the point. I don’t want you to be good. I want you to be bad. I want you desperate, and needy, and crazy bad.”
“Oh please, I am. Oh God, please, you’re driving me crazy.”
“Really? But I haven’t even begun spanking you.”
Just hearing those words, Melissa pitched into a shuddering orgasm, suddenly thrashing and straining against the ropes binding her. When she finally subsided into a trembling postictal state, Serena slapped Melissa’s butt hard, which fired off a second round of helpless orgiastic flailing.
As she resurfaced after her second climax, Melissa’s chest was heaving for air, compressed as she was by having her legs held nearly horizontal above her. Her heart was pounding. Melissa felt panicked that Serena might inflict another orgasm on her. Melissa tried to focus her eyes, looking for Serena’s face, wanting to implore her to stop.
When she was able to focus on Serena, however, what she saw caused icy tendrils of dread. Serena was looking down on Melissa with profound disapproval. Serena growled, “How dare you come without permission! Now the real punishment will begin.”
A rain of flat-hand slaps fell across Melissa’s exposed butt. She helplessly tried to flinch away. The spanking was not painful – Serena was being careful – instead, Melissa found herself desperately trying to stave off another rapidly growing orgasm. She badly wanted to prove to Serena that she was a worthy submissive, who could follow orders – but Melissa’s frenzied attempts to control her body’s response were pitifully inadequate in the face of the tidal wave of intensity that was overwhelming her.
She screamed out in frustration as another orgasm seemed to grip her in its hungry jaws, shaking her helplessly back and forth like a toy doll. Melissa’s head whipped from side to side, spittle flinging outwards, unheeded, in a broad arc. Her world became gray as her extended climax hung on the thin edge between glorious and painful.
As the intensity finally receded, all she could do was pant, “No, no, no,” over and over again.
Serena drew her fingernails lightly along Melissa’s flank. Melissa lay with her eyes shut and damp hair strewn across her face, whimpering miserably.
Then Serena gripped Melissa’s buttocks and slowly spread them apart. Leaning forward, Serena plunged her tongue past the yielding ring of Melissa’s sphincter, wriggling the tip of her tongue to and fro, then sliding it in and out of Melissa.
A sudden, short, sharp orgasm seized Melissa before she could do anything about it. Crying out in frustration, she shuddered uncontrollably. Her throat was already raw from screaming.
After a moment’s respite, Melissa felt the cushions shift, as Serena got up from the chaise lounge. Although Melissa’s eyes were closed, the sound of heels clicking against flagstone told her that Serena was walking past her to the head of the chaise lounge. Then the cushions compressed on either side of her head, as Serena knelt across her.
Leaning forward, Serena drew her tongue along the cleft of Melissa’s labia in an excruciatingly slow line. Well beyond any ability to react, Melissa lay passively, only responding with involuntary twitches and jerks, as Serena lapped lazy circles slowly around her clitoris.
As yet another climax built, Melissa began trembling uncontrollably. The impending orgasm crested higher and higher, until it broke through in another crescendo of helpless thrashing against the ropes holding her in place. Melissa’s body screamed, but only a few inarticulate moans escaped from her mouth.
Finally, Serena sat back on her haunches. Looking pleased, she gazed down at Melissa’s face, framed upside down between her thighs. Melissa’s breathing was shaky. Her eyes, when they occasionally fluttered open, were unfocused. Serena waited patiently, giving Melissa time to recover.
Eventually, awareness crept back into Melissa’s expression. She tentatively licked drool away from the corner of her mouth, then cautiously cleared her throat, careful about the raw soreness that burned painfully hot along the length of her throat.
Serena smiled, “Welcome back.”
Melissa worked her mouth uncertainly, then croaked, “What?”
Serena repeated, “I said, ‘welcome back.’”
“Uh, yeah… meant… what was that?”
“You mean, being held tight between torture and pleasure?”
“Well, some subs aspire to such treatment at the loving hands of their mistress.”
Melissa mumbled, “Fuck you, Mistress.”
“My, my, such gratitude. Oh well, one tries.”
“I never… never been… so many orgasms. It hurts.”
“Well then, you ought to be more careful of what you ask for. Remember, this is what you said you wanted.”
“I was a fuckhead.”
Serena laughed, and then they lapsed into silence. Serena waited while Melissa’s breathing slowly steadied and she came back more completely into the present. Finally, in a more normal voice, Melissa said, “I never imagined being so completely overwhelmed. I was so… powerless. It was… wonderful and horrible – all at the same time.”
“Um, Thank you, I think. So, are you going to untie me anytime soon? I think I need to pee. Hard to tell, though, upside down like this.”
“Oh, you haven’t earned your freedom yet.”
Smiling wickedly, Serena raised herself up, then slid her knees out wider, before lowering herself across Melissa’s face.
Melissa’s quiet moan of understanding was cut off by the soft folds of Serena’s labia pressing down on her mouth. Obediently, Melissa explored with her tongue, pressing inside Serena, then circling up and toying with her clitoris. She heard Serena’s satisfied groans as Serena shifted herself to direct Melissa’s tongue where she wanted.
Serena reached down to stroke across her own clitoris. Her motions started slowly but quickly became more frenzied. Then she reached down with her other hand and slid two fingers inside, to press up against her G-spot. For a moment Melissa was pushed away, unable to contribute with her tongue. Then Serena shifted forward, presenting her anus to Melissa. With bemused resignation, Melissa pressed the tip of her tongue against the soft ring of Serena’s muscle, until she relaxed, allowing Melissa to penetrate her from behind.
In front, Serena’s frenzied motions with her hand became even more frenetic as she grunted, bearing down on Melissa, before abruptly pitching forward in a gasping orgasm. Melissa watched from below as Serena’s cheek pressed against Melissa’s sex, caught in the open vee of Melissa’s legs, which were still tied firmly above her. Ongoing muscle spasms pulsed and jerked Serena. Finally, she slowed her efforts with her fingers. Her body quietened as she collapsed limply against Melissa.
After letting Serena remain that way for a couple of minutes, Melissa finally said, “Uh, you’re sort of cutting off circulation somewhere. My feet are getting kind of tingly.”
Serena mumbled, “Oh bitch, bitch, bitch.” She straightened up, however, and started to undo the knots holding Melissa in place. “It’s just Halasana – you know, the Yoga Plough Pose.”
“I don’t do yoga, but I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be folded up like a pretzel, then pelted with orgasms.”
“Pelted?” Serena snorted. “I’ll have you know, that was a lovingly crafted, artisanal sexual experience.”
“Oh yeah, nothing like hovering right on the fucking knife edge of torture.”
“I’m glad you noticed the exquisite skill required to hold you balanced, exactly on that knife edge.”
“I’m sure I’ll appreciate it more, once my back has fucking stopped spasming.”
At that moment, Serena finished freeing Melissa’s second leg. Serena gently guided Melissa’s legs back into place, until she was lying flat on the cushions. Melissa took a deep breath, letting out a long sigh.
Serena asked, “Better?”
Humming quietly to herself, Serena undid the ropes around Melissa’s wrists. Once completely free, Melissa stretched back and forth, absentmindedly rubbing her wrists, trying to smooth out the indentations left by the soft rope.
Serena sat on the edge of the chaise lounge. She reached down and slid off her stiletto heels, groaning in relief. Lifting one leg at a time, she flexed and pointed each foot with a contented sigh.
Then she stood up and took hold of the large brass zipper on the front of her borrowed corset, pulling it down to release herself from the black leather that was so tightly confining her. She let the corset fall away. It landed partially on the cushions before sliding off the chaise lounge and down onto the flagstones.
Stretching up, Serena happily called out, “And the Pillsbury Doughboy emerges.”
Melissa snorted, “Yeah, like you’ve got any excess fat.”
“Hah, I’m a big-boned farm girl.”
“Yeah, well I wish I was in as good a shape as you are.”
“Hey, Mistress Amy is doing her worst, I mean, her best to help get you there.”
“God, she’s a fucking sadist.”
“Absolutely, but she’s a very effective sadist.”
Melissa shook her head, “I can’t believe those girls she brought to the party – that they willingly put up with that kind of domination.”
“It takes all types. And in this world of kinkdom, it’s really important to respect that idea, with an open mind.”
“I guess, but I sure as hell couldn’t imagine wanting her as my Mistress.”
“So, that means you’re entitled to look down on the men and women who do?”
Melissa grimaced in embarrassment. “You’re right. Sorry. It’s just that Erik is such an amazing dom, at least for me, that I have a hard time imagining how someone would prefer Mistress Amy’s… more traditional form of discipline.”
Serena paused, seemingly searching for a good way to answer. Finally, she asked, “Did you like the scene we just did?”
“Ouch. It was insanely intense, and I still feel overwhelmed by it. But sure, I mean, sort of – I loved it – being helpless and teased, then coming over and over again. It was scary too. You know, right at the edge of being way-too-fucking-much scary.”
Melissa paused, then added, “But I did ask for it, and you did do an awesome job of delivering it. Thank you, by the way. I guess I have to digest it down. I mean, I think it was fun, but I sure as hell wouldn’t want a steady diet of it.”
Serena nodded, “But could you imagine a sub who thought that was the be-all and end-all peak experience? A sub who lives for that intensity, who craves it?”
“Yeah, I guess so. Sounds sort of extreme, but yeah, I can imagine someone who really thrives on that sort of thing. For me, it was… an amazing journey, even if it’s not a place I’d want to go to all the time.”
Serena nodded again, then explained, “I’m not sure, but I’d guess that those two girls of Mistress Amy’s, they live for that kind of domination. They enjoy submitting themselves completely, losing themselves in their submission.”
“Couldn’t that be kind of dangerous?”
“Sure. Me personally, I think it is, but not everyone in kink agrees. Long-term submission at that sort of total level – I think it depends a lot on the dom and the sub, and on their relationship. Without some sort of give and take, I’m pretty sure there’s no way it could be a healthy relationship. But Amy doesn’t really do long-term relationships. As best I can tell, she sees herself more as training subs to be true slaves, worthy of a top Master or Mistress. After awhile, most of her subs move on by themselves. Or she kicks them out, especially if they’re too clingy. Or she sells them.”
“Wait! You’re fucking kidding me. She sells them?”
“Well no, you can’t really sell someone. Not in the US, anyway. And everyone involved in the ‘sale’ knows that. But yeah, they dress it all up with legal paperwork, real money changes hands, and sometimes the slave is branded – it’s the whole nine yards.”
“Okay, now that is seriously scary.”
“I guess it does sound pretty far out there, at least until you know the people who are into it. They love it, on both sides, the slave and the master.” Serena paused, mulling over what to say next, then continued, “On a day to day basis, you know, the way those ‘slaves’ live is not very different from how you are living here, with Erik.”
Melissa’s eyes opened wide at the comparison. Then she quickly protested, “But I can leave anytime I want.”
“Sure, but they can too.”
“Okaaay, that’s definitely uncomfortable to think about. I see your point, though. But getting branded? Jesus!”
“A brand’s usually small.” Serena looked off in the distance, “Um, what’s a good comparison?” She snapped her fingers, “Got it. So, you know how Erik likes a woman with nipple rings?”
Melissa answered a little uncertainly, “Yeah, that was a weird sort of revelation, a couple of days ago.”
“Okay, but since then, have you thought about getting your nipples pierced?”
Melissa hesitated, before exhaling sharply in frustration. “Yeah, I have, and yeah, I get your point.”
“So – I’m not saying that you’re the same as one of Amy’s girls or somebody who’d let herself be sold to a total stranger – but what I am saying is that you probably understand why someone does that, maybe better than you’d want to admit.”
“Ouch, but thanks, that’s certainly worth thinking about.”
“Oh yeah, you do love that thinking stuff.”
“Hey, go fuck yourself.”
“Um, I just did – got myself off right on top of you.”
“Hey, I tried to help, but somebody had me all tied up. I could hardly reach anything with my tongue. And besides, I diddled your goddamn asshole with my tongue. What more could you want?”
Serena patted her reassuringly. “You did great. No complaints from me. None. Nope. None at all. Frankly, after what I put you through, I was pretty amazed you could do anything at all.”
Melissa looked down at her hands and apologized, “Um, I’m sorry, though, earlier, I couldn’t stop myself from coming. I, ah…”
Serena’s laughter interrupted her. “Dear God, if you could have stopped me, I would’ve been really disappointed. My telling you not to come was just part of the scene. It gave me more reasons to ‘punish’ you. Hey, if a dom really wants to play the ‘you’re not allowed to come’ game, then it’s the dom’s responsibility to bring you right up to the point where you can still control it, but not push you past that point. I, on the other hand, deliberately slammed you right past that point.”
Melissa grumbled, “‘Slammed’ sounds about right.”
“Hey, you let me pick how to play the game – then you gotta live with the consequences.”
“So what? Next time, I should pick the game?”
Serena stopped, considering Melissa’s words. Melissa’s face fell as Serena said, “That’s a great idea.”
“But I’m not nearly as creative as you or Erik. I’d just screw it up.”
“You know, it’s not just doms who set up a scene. A good sub helps shape it, adds to the drama, the playfulness, intensity, whatever. So, it’d be good practice for you. Besides, Erik’s going to be busy all week – most likely. So next time, you set up the scene. And don’t forget to give me a call or text, so I’ll know what to wear.”
“It’ll be fun.”