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Summer Hire Ch. 01

By: brentaden



Preface

This book is set a few years from now, when vaccines have been developed to prevent all sexually transmitted diseases. This happy idea, at least, is the author's justification for a total absence of safe-sex practices in this story.

Chapter One

Tall, Dark, Handsome

The sudden screech of an alarm clock filled the small room. Melissa's arm flopped out from under the covers. She swung her hand in a well practiced arc, slapping the snooze button into silence. Satisfied, she snuggled deeper into bed.

Sleep, unfortunately, proved elusive. A nagging feeling itched at the edge of her awareness. When all her determined attempts to ignore the feeling failed, she finally pushed herself back into a semi-sitting position, propping herself against a heap of pillows that occupied the head of her bed. She tried lifting her eyelids slightly open, but the brightness of the sunlight flooding into her room proved too unpleasant. With a sigh, she let her head roll back and wondered what was bothering her.

"Oh, him." Memories of last night poured into her consciousness.

"Tall, dark, handsome... and a bad boy" she told the empty room. A small grin pulled at the corners of her mouth. "I fall for bad boys every time. Though, he was kind of cute. And way too sexy."

Her smile faded into a frustrated grimace. "But, like all the rest, a true asshole. Goddamn it!" She angrily slapped a hand against the mattress.

"One of these days, you'd think I'd get it through my damn head. Bad boys are never worth it. It's a stupid addiction."

She'd gone out to a local club last night, by herself. After a long semester, she wanted loud music and someone to dance with -- someone who wasn't a grungy grad student, trying to be a hipster. Then, he had somehow materialized at her side, leading her out into a mob of people dancing.

During shouted attempts at conversation, she discovered he was a bond trader. He had a tall, lithe body. As they danced, she found that she couldn't pull her eyes away from him. His hips sometimes made little half circles that seemed to connect directly to her own pelvis. As the night wore on, she rode a wave of arousal, occasionally rubbing up against him, stoking the warmth that was burning within her. An obvious bulge in his pants made his feelings clear as well.

After playfully egging each other on for most of the evening, he finally pulled her in close and kissed her, hard on the mouth. She was surprised at his abruptness. Horny as she was, however, she gladly followed his lead. When his tongue pushed down against her lips, she opened her mouth and let him in.

It was exciting to be making out in the middle of the dance floor with one of the best looking guys in the club. His kissing was more forceful than she liked, but that didn't bother her too much. She wanted to scream out, "See, look who I got! He's hot, and he's mine."

When they broke apart, he grinned down at her. He radiated a self-confident, bad boy grin. The little bit of material that made up the micro thong she had boldly chosen for tonight was already wet from the playful arousal they had been building all night long. Now, it was soaked.

She should have known from his bad-boy cockiness that she was about to travel down a well-worn path to an unhappy place. The roar of her hormones, however, completely drowned out any sense of rationality.

His gaze traveled over her, arrogantly certain that she wanted him. She didn't even have to look down to know that her nipples were making noticeable bumps in the smooth flow of her silk tank top.

In a brief moment of doubt, she wondered if she should have worn a smooth-cup bra instead of the flimsy underwire one she had picked out. Then that moment was past, flung by her gleeful arousal into the dust bin of foolish regrets. She reveled in being wanton, feeling the rush of knowing that she was making him equally horny.

Moving closer, she reached for his hand, deliberately letting her hand brush against the straining lump in his pants. She leaned in to yell, "Want to dance again?"

His grin grew more wicked. "Naw, let's get some air."

She yelled back, "Okay."

A moment after the word was out of her mouth, she realized that she had agreed without even thinking. "Crap", she thought, "that's the problem with getting so damn hot. I get stupid!" Smiling anyway, she walked toward the entrance holding his hand.

As they walked past the bar, she saw at least two women enviously tracking her progress. A couple guys were ogling her as well. Normally, those sorts of stares would make her self-conscious and angry. Now, it was just another turn-on. She was startled to find herself subtly pulling her shoulders back and showing off her breasts up even more prominently.

She was usually too self-conscious to draw attention to her chest. Since 14, she had been a C cup. In the summer, when she wore light clothing, the stares from boys and men made her feel as though she was only a pair of boobs.

Even as a 25 year old grad student, she still found herself getting angry at those stares. "So what if I'm at an Ivy League university? Almost perfect SAT's and GRE's? Who the fuck cares? And God forbid if I ever go out without a bra."

Her girlfriends in college had complained that it was unfair she could still get away without needing a bra. Gravity hadn't yet taken its inevitable toll. Sometimes, when she got tired of having bra straps digging into her shoulders, she did go without support, but not tonight. She had learned early on that light clothing and no bra was a huge mistake.

Walking past the bar, however, she thought it would have been fun have only been wearing her gray silk tank top, without even her flimsy underwire bra. Somehow, holding hands with the cutest, tight assed bad-boy in the whole place made a big difference. She found her hips moving a wider circle in her tight jean miniskirt, as she catwalked in her three and a half inch tan summer sandals. She found herself imaging being one of those Victoria Secret models that all the guys went stupid over.

"Sure, I'm 5' 7", not six foot. Nobody needs to know that my tank top is untucked, so it hides the pudge around my waistband. None of that shit matters. Tonight, I'm sexy and they know it."

She could feel that her own body knew it too. The slick wetness of her freshly shaved labia sliding against her silk thong was proof enough. "Let's face it," she told herself, "you went out tonight to go get laid." She looked over at her bad boy. He grinned back confidently in response to her glance. She continued to herself, "And wow are you gonna get laid tonight!"

Then they were out of the night club. The door swung shut behind them, suddenly muffling the roar of the music to a dull booming. Even though it was May and the day had been warm, Melissa was surprised by the crisp coolness of the night air, especially in contrast to the humid heat of the club. She shuddered and felt little goosebumps on her arms. She grinned to herself and thought, "Yeah, I bet my nipples are really popping out. What the hell? He'll appreciate the show."

Out on the street, however, she felt a little less certain about the wisdom of leaving with someone she had only met tonight. Warning notes about past flings with bad boys tried to push their way into her consciousness.

She found it easy to ignore this moment of wavering -- his hand felt warm in hers and her body hummed with an excitement that clearly had its origin somewhere between her legs. She snuggled in closer, telling her fears, "To hell with it. He's cute. I'm horny. We're going for it." Decision made, she drew in a deep breath, arching back to fill her lungs with fresh clean air.

As though on queue, he turned into her, pressing her back against a brick wall, kissing her deeply. She melted into him, kissing him back eagerly, their tongues sliding past each other. Even if he wasn't the world's greatest kisser, she had always been a sucker for being pinned between a wall and a bad boy. Ever since Bobby McPherson had pushed her up against the back of her parents' garage when she was 15, she had a deep abiding, guilty pleasure for how much this position turned her on.

As a teenager, however, the enthusiasm of her response had genuinely embarrassed her. In confessional that Sunday, she had foolishly stammered out what had happened, which resulted in a very humiliating lecture from Father Murphy. Over the next week, her shame had slowly morphed into anger. The next Sunday, she had refused to go to church.

Her mother had yelled at her and prayed for her soul, but her father had just shrugged his shoulders. "Marge, let the kid find her own way." There were times when she was grateful for being the third of four kids. Her older sister and brother would never have gotten away with refusing to go to Mass.

The roughness of the brick wall behind her brought her back to the present. Sensing her shift in focus, the bad boy arched back, grinding his hips against her as he stared down at her. Without volition, a mewing groan of desire escaped from her throat. "God," she thought, "I'm such a whore. I can't believe I like it so much.'

He pulled her away from the wall, slipping his hands up her back, sliding underneath her tank top. Pulling her in tight, he kissed her hard again, while unhooking her bra. Then he pulled away from the kiss, smiling, as his fingers slid along her shoulders, lifting her bra straps and pulling them forward. She shrugged, letting her straps slide partway down her arms. He pulled one strap forward as she drew her arm back to let the strap slide free, and then the other. Then he dropped a hand to her waistband and reached up under the her tank top, hooking a finger under the center of her bra. With a small shudder of anticipation, she let her bra cups slip free as he drew her bra out from under her tank top. He whispered, "Ah, now there's a good little girl. I'm afraid this pretty little thing belongs in your purse for the rest of the evening."

Obligingly, she took the bra from him, folded it over, and stuffed it in her clutch. The underwire made part of fabric stick out, so she couldn't close her clutch all the way, but she figured he wouldn't mind.

He stepped back from her, letting his gaze sweep over her from head to toe. He had a sly smile, which grew broader as she shifted her hips forward and arched her breasts upward for him to inspect. He softly growled, "Much, much better."

She smiled wickedly in return. Throwing both caution and respectability to the wind, she leaned back against the brick wall and crossed her arms above her head, deliberately lifting her breasts as much as possible. She asked, "Is this more what you were looking for?" He took a deep breath, then exhaled audibly. Melissa thought to herself, "God, I really do love being such a slut. If I could just bottle this rush, I'd make a fortune."

He pressed in against her and growled in her ear, "I'm so damn horny, I could take you right here!"

A jolt of fear went through Melissa with the realization that he might be serious. It was all she could do to suppress her urge to look left and right to see who else was around.

Although she had found semi-public petting and sex a turn-on before, having full intercourse in the middle of a city block was definitely not on her to-do list. The fear rushing though her was like a splash of ice water, quickly dampening the heat of her arousal.

Sensing her reaction, he laughed. "All right scaredy pants," he said, "my car is this way." He took her hand in his and and set off down the block. Still feeling a little bit less certain, Melissa followed along beside him, now very conscious of how walking in her three and a half inch heels made her breasts sway back and forth. She sneaked a look over at him, catching his profile in the light from a doorway. He was gorgeous and supremely confident. This combination somehow reassured her.

Moving through the chill night air, she tried to rekindle the brazen sense of arousal that had provided such an intense heat to her evening. She deliberately exaggerated her stride into a fashion model's catwalk, exaggerating her hip motion, letting the heal strike of each step send a little bounce through her breasts. She pushed away her tension, slowly reconnecting with the intensity of being sexy and desired.

She was beginning to recapture her feeling of wanton arousal, just as he came to a sudden halt. He said, "Here we are." She looked down to see a Porsche sports car. He gave her a little half wink, clearly proud of having such an expensive toy.

Taking the hint, Melissa smiled and said, "Wow. How nice." He thumbed his key fob and reached down to open the passenger door for her. She sank into the leather seat, but before she could swing her legs into the car, he stepped forward, unzipping his pants. Reaching into his pants, he pulled out a fully engorged penis.

Melissa was taken aback, but covered her surprise as best she could. It was clear what he expected. Looking quickly left and right, she made sure no one was on the street. Being mostly hidden in his car, she felt less exposed than before.

The roofline of the car blocked her view of his face. His penis, however, was very insistently positioned inches from her mouth. He was moderately sized and she was grateful for the apparent lack of a foreskin. The one boy she had dated with a still intact foreskin hadn't been great about washing thoroughly. His penis often smelled a little rancid and tasted that way too.

"Oh well," she said to herself, opening her mouth. Leaning forward, she took him in and began to work her tongue over his penis to moisten it. He exhaled a groan and thrust forward. As his penis hit the back of her mouth, she did her best not to gag, twisting her head to try to give him both depth and stimulation, without having the head of his penis pushing into her throat. She also reached up with her right hand to circle the base of his penis, trying to give him some additional stimulation while buying herself some space.

Undeterred, he reached down and wrapped his hand behind her head. Then he began pumping his penis energetically in and out of her mouth. She kept a firm grip with her right hand around the base of his shaft, trying not to gag as the head of his penis slammed repeatedly into the back of her mouth. Just as she felt her gorge rising and was afraid of vomiting, he came in powerful jolts, his cum pulsing into her mouth. Between his penis and cum, her mouth suddenly felt too full.

Fighting desperately against the need to gag, the only thing that saved her was that the taste of his cum wasn't as disgusting as some earlier boyfriends.

He pulled back away from her and pushed his penis back into his pants. He started to close her door. She reached out quickly with her hand to slow the door while she pulled her feet inside the car. As soon as she let go, he finished closing the door. Sitting inside, with her mouth still full of cum, she regretted not having time to discretely spit it out into the gutter. He crossed in front of the car, zipping up his pants.

"Oh crap," she thought, swallowing. She managed not to choke as his cum slid past the abused opening to her throat.

He got in the car and grinned at her, "Well that was fun!"

She made herself smile back. Internally, however, a sarcastic voice said, "Sure, lots of fun for you, asshole."

He started the car and leaned back in his seat, sighing contentedly, "That took the edge off." Then he pulled away from the curb without even looking around for oncoming traffic.

Melissa began to seriously consider the possibility that her handsome hunk of a man was a bit of a jerk. She wondered if swallowing his full load of cum meant he was finished for the night.

Pulling on her seatbelt, she decided to put the best face on the situation. After all, she was zipping across the city in a fancy sports car with an awesome looking guy. Life was not all bad.

Even though she felt guilty about it, she did feel a rush from being "used" by a bad boy. If only he hadn't nearly made her throw up by repeatedly slamming into her gag reflex, she would have probably liked it a lot better.

Leaning back into her seat, she smiled, determine to enjoy the evening.

"If only," she complained to herself, "he was a better driver." He consistently ignored the lane markings and the car's tight suspension was making her a little queasy. The aftertaste of his cum didn't help matters.

Fortunately, it was only a short time later that he parked his car and they were walking into his condo building. A genially plump doorman welcomed them with a cheery, "Good evening Mr. Giancarlo."

"Tony," she thought, "Now I remember! His name is Tony Giancarlo." She realized that forgetting his name had been bugging her all night. He'd yelled it over the music early in the evening, but she'd been too distracted by his dancing to remember what he said. It was clear now that some of the sleaziness she had felt in making out with him was that she couldn't even remember his name. Not that she hadn't been way over the sleazy line all night, she reminded herself. But still, it had been sophomore year in college since she had wound up having sex with a boy whose name she didn't remember.

"Hey Mike," Tony boomed out to the doorman, "Great evening, huh?"

The doorman smiled back politely. "Apparently so Mr. Giancarlo."

With Melissa in tow, Tony swept past Mike and turned into an open elevator. Punching a button for his floor, Tony pressed Melissa up against the elevator wall, kissing her hard. The elevator door closed as his thigh slipped in between her legs, pressing firmly against her freshly shaved mound, only barely covered by her thong.

Melissa's constrained position reignited her arousal with a sudden burst of intensity. She was so overwhelmed by her rush of passion that she didn't even realize he had lifted up her jean skirt until his thumbs hooked into the waistband of her thong and started pulling it down.

Reacting in surprise, she jerked forward, with the unintentional consequence of her sex pressing even more firmly against his thigh. The result simply increased the intensity of the sexual stimulus flooding into to her.

Struggling internally to resurrect control over her runaway reactions, Melissa tried to figure out whether to slow things down or to go with the moment. Before she could straighten out her priorities, her thong lay down around her ankles and her bare labia were pressed up against the fabric of his pants. Making the best of the situation, she leaned back against the wall, trying to enjoy his weight pressing against her.

The elevator pinged in completion of its journey. As the doors slid open, Tony stepped backwards into the opening, holding her hand. She stepped out of her thong, bent down to scoop it up, and let him lead her into the hallway.

While he dug out his keys and opened his door, she took the opportunity to shove her very damp thong into her clutch alongside her bra.

Stepping into his flat, he flicked on the lights. They both winced at the brightness. He quickly turned the lights off again. Leaving her standing in the doorway, he walked into the living room and turned on a dim reading light over a leather chair in the corner. The light was sufficient to show her the matching leather couch, dark wood furniture, and paintings on the wall. Everything was masculine, tasteful, and expensive. Even more impressive to her, however, was the panoramic view of the city through the full height living room windows.

He walked into the kitchen/dining area where he adjusted a dimmer to cast a warm glow over a butcher block island. Turning back, he realized she hadn't moved from the open door. He waved her forward, "Come in. Do you want something to drink?"


Summer Hire Ch. 01



"Ah... sure." She stepped in, hesitantly closing the door behind her. "Do you have a glass of wine or something?" She stayed near the door, looking around at his place.

He smiled, "No problem." He opened a wood paneled refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of white wine with a cork sticking halfway out of the top. "I've got some great Vouvray left over." He looked over at her again, puzzled that she still hadn't moved from the entryway. "Come on in," he insisted. Then he turned to a cabinet to get out a couple of wine glasses.

Not seeing other options, Melissa walked into the kitchen. She leaned back against the island while he poured the wine. He brought the glasses over to her and handed her one. Clinking his glass against hers, he toasted, "To one very hot woman."

They both took a sip. Tony set his glass down on the island and then took Melissa's glass from her. He sat her glass next to his and stepped closer. She lifted up her head, expecting another forceful kiss, but he surprised her by gently nuzzling her neck. His little kisses and licks accelerated her heartbeat back to the elevated level where it had been in the elevator.

Melissa relaxed back against the island, confused about his on-again, off-again abruptness. His hands rested on her shoulders as he kissed his way up the right side of her neck to nibble at her ear. His left hand brushed her strawberry blond hair out of the way as his tongue traced the outer folds of her ear. She sighed, letting out a breath that she hadn't realized she was holding. Deciding not to worry about his abrupt changes, she gave in to the hungry arousal that was once again wetting her labia, this time without the fabric of her thong to absorb it.

Then he gently turned her around to face the island. Her hips rested against the rounded edge of the butcher block and he leaned her forward while her lifted her hair off the back of her neck. His mouth explored the contours of the back of her neck. He pressed his hips up against her buttocks, trapping her firmly against the butcher block. She could feel his erection through his pants. She was at least glad to discover he was hard again, so soon after his earlier orgasm.

He reached down to lift up her skirt, then ran the backs of his fingernails along her naked flanks. She shivered, arching back into him. He laughed quietly and then pressed her down, until she was laying flat across the butcher block surface. She felt him reach down to unzip his pants and pull his penis out. Positioning himself against her sex, he slid the head of his penis up and down along the inner cleft of her labia, coating himself with her juices. Aligning himself carefully, he entered her in one swift thrust.

She bucked back up against him as his thrust slammed her hard against the island. Her reaction seemed to excite him and he vigorously thrust in and out several times before settling down to a more sustained rhythm. With every stroke, Melissa was pleased to discover that the head of his penis slid across a wonderfully sensitive area inside her, compressing her soft tissue between the rigidness of his penis and the hard surface of the butcher block.

She moaned with her growing need to orgasm, but found herself distracted by his fumbling for something on the island. She turned to see him push his thumb into a warm stick of butter that had been left out. When his thumb was liberally coated with butter, he brought it back to her buttocks.

Realizing what he intended, she put her head back down on the butcher block and tried to will her fear-clenched anus into relaxation. She hoped he'd be gentle and give her a little while to loosen up.

He did. He worked slowly around her tight opening with his thumb, teasing it, while continuing to slide his penis in and out of her vagina. It didn't take long before she felt her anus puckering up, ready to be penetrated. He slipped the tip of his thumb just inside of her, massaging her opening till she relaxed against the pressure, wanting more.

When his whole thumb entered her, she gasped and clenched hard against the sudden increase in pressure. Shifting her hips slightly, she lifted herself against him so the angle was more comfortable. He responded by pressing deeper, with the base of is thumb forcing her anus wider. She winced and gritted her teeth for a moment, willing her body to accept the pressure as an erotic fullness.

From past experience, she knew she liked the fullness of having both her vagina and anus full, but only moderately so. She remembered when a past boyfriend had slipped a thin vibrator in her rear while she was on top. She had come explosively. The memory helped her relax and turn the fullness into pleasure.

She twisted back a little against the butcher block, seeking just the right spot where his penis pressed her most sensitive spot against the warm wood. Finding it, she wiggled into firmer contact, letting her intensity build towards her rapidly onrushing orgasm.

Then suddenly, she was empty. No penis, no thumb. From the fog of what had been the near onset of a huge orgasm, she tried to look back to see what he was doing. Then his penis suddenly pushed past her sphincter and it became clear.

With a moan of frustration, she lay her head back down again. Anal sex was definitely not her favorite activity. Even when it went well, she found the whole thing frustrating. She had only ever come once in anal intercourse, and that involved a lot of simultaneous clitoral stimulation.

Over the years, she had only agreed to anal sex a half dozen times, and she wasn't really looking to add to that experience. The couple of times when the guy was large, or she wasn't ready, it had been truly unpleasant.

She shifted into a more comfortable position, deciding she should at least be grateful that Tony wasn't particularly large. When he started pushing all the way in, however, she realized that her rear wasn't as empty as she would have liked. The increasing tempo of his pounding was compacting the natural contents of her anus with unpleasant pressure.

Melissa almost cried from the frustration of having a powerful orgasm snatched away from her, only to be left with gritting her teeth to bear out an increasingly unpleasant experience. She decided that if he didn't come quickly, she was going to call the whole thing off. She squeezed her sphincter muscles, trying to let him know that his penis was no longer welcome in there.

To her surprise, the contraction around his penis caused him to buck into an explosive orgasm. After a few last desperate shoves into her, he withdrew, gasping for air. He stumbled back away.

"Well," she thought, "at least one of us is happy."

She lay unhappily on the butcher block, unsure what to do. From the corner of her eye, she saw him walking away. After a moment, she heard a distant door close. Pushing up on her elbows, she looked around. From down a hall, there came the muted sound of a shower running. After a few minutes, Tony came out of the bathroom in his undershorts.

He waved at her, "I got to get up early in the morning." He turned towards his bedroom and said, "Great night, huh?" Then he went into his bedroom and closed the door.

Melissa stood up incredulous. Her mouth gaped open as she searched desperately for something to scream at him. Nothing came out.

She looked around the kitchen, searching for something to throw, something to break. After a mad moment, she stopped.

A crushing certainty descended on her that this was her fault. She had no one to blame. She had gotten herself into this situation.

The path to this place was far too familiar. It always began with a sexy bad boy. The rush of her own arousal inevitably blinded her to the stupidity of her choices. No matter how she tried to avoid it, the ending was always the same. It would become blindingly clear the guy was a complete asshole. Then she would come crashing down into reality, left with only self-disgust.

"After all, how can I blame them?" she told herself, "I'm the whore who's willing to be used." The seeming inescapable progress of her addiction to bad boys saddened and angered her. "Everywhere else, I take care of myself. I don't let dickheads push me around in life or at school. It's just boyfriends that I want to treat me like crap."

She looked at the closed bedroom door. "Hell, he doesn't even qualify as a boyfriend. I wasn't even a one-night stand. I was just a quick fuck."

She took a last look around at his kitchen. Her eyes lingered for a moment on a salt shaker sitting next to a sugar canister. The idea of pouting some salt into his sugar canister caused a tight grin to flash across her lips. Then she shoved the thought away, convinced it would only make her look even more juvenile and naive. She was already sick with with how stupid she had been.

She left his condo quietly and went down the hall to the elevator. When she pressed the 'down' button, the elevator doors opened immediately. "Damn!" she swore, realizing that her visit to his place had been so brief that the elevator was still at his floor.

She jabbed the button for the lobby and crossed her arms. "Oh shit!" she exclaimed. She hadn't remembered to put her bra back on. "God damn it! I was such a proud little fucking slut when I came in. Yeah, slut is right." Looking at the floors sliding past on the elevator's display panel, she realized there was no way that she was going to get her bra back on before reaching the lobby.

When the elevator arrived and the doors opened, she poked out her head. Mike was sitting on a stool inside the entrance. He stood up as she looked out. Taking in her unhappy expression, he dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a cell phone. "I'll call you a cab, miss. Just wait in here a minute." He stepped outside to make the call, leaving her the privacy of an empty lobby.

A couple of minutes later, a cab pulled up. Mike came back in. "Your cab is here, miss... and, well..., you know... Tony, Mr. Giancarlo, he's not really the sort of guy to waste much time on. Kind of an ass, really."

Melissa felt those words hit her, as though she was watching herself from above while being lectured by Father Grady. The adult part of herself knew that the doorman meant well, but the child inside curled into a tight ball. "Thank you, Mike," she heard herself say, as she walked out to the waiting cab.

Getting in, she thought about calling Malcolm. During the first year of grad school, he had unexpectedly become her best friend. In an Ivy League archaeology program, they were both outcasts from the solidly upper middle class white norm of their fellow students. Melissa was working class Irish-American, only there on a scholarship. Malcolm was gleefully homosexual, with deep chocolate skin. When Melissa's love life fell apart, which had happened much too frequently this year, she had always found peace in talking with him.

She found it oddly reassuring that the outrageousness of his escapades greatly exceeded her own, at least by the stories he told. He was the perfect non-judgmental confessor for her sins. She pulled out her phone to call him, but thumbing it on, she saw how late it had become. After staring forlornly at the phone, she slipped it back away. She couldn't bring herself to call him this late. Either he was asleep or else he was out enjoying himself. It would have to wait for morning.

Now that morning had come, she sat in bed and hugged a pillow, rocking back and forth, fighting back tears. Her alarm started shrieking again. "You stupid fucking asshole!" she screamed, not knowing if she meant her alarm clock, Tony, or herself.

She shut off her alarm, then flopped face down in bed to avoid the day. She considered not going into the lab at all today. "No one's going to notice. Classes and exams are done. It's officially summer."

"Why the hell did I set my alarm anyway?" 

A moment later, she flung herself upright. "Oh shit!" 



Summer Hire Ch. 02



Chapter 2

A New Resolution

She threw back the covers and scrambled out of bed. "Oh crap! The goddamn big deal donor's coming this morning." She rushed towards the bathroom, dodging piles of books and clothes on the floor. She yanked on the shower and sat on the toilet, while the hot water made its way up from the basement.

"Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap." Part of her university grant money was based on taking visitors around on 'make nice to important visitors' tours. Professor Gavin, the department chair, was going to be pissed off if she was late. Dr. Gavin was one of the few women running an Archeology Studies department at a major university. She was hell on anyone who might make her look bad, especially if the offender was a lowly first-year grad student.

Melissa hopped in the shower without flushing the toilet. The pipes in the old apartment building she lived in didn't like doing more than one thing at a time. Etiquette amongst the renters was to bang something metal on the pipes before you flushed. That way, anybody taking a shower on another floor could jump out of the water stream before getting scalded.

As the water sluiced over her, Melissa tried to organize her thoughts. Her suit was hanging in the closet; it should be fine. Her cream silk blouse was in the pile for the cleaners, but it wasn't too bad. She couldn't remember if she had any pantyhose, but it was summer and going bare-legged was still the style anyway. She was glad she had shaved her legs last night. Then she flinched as she remembered also shaving her mound smooth, and how well that had worked out.

She slammed off the water and hurried to finish getting ready.

Twenty minutes later, she was out the front door and rushing down the street. With traffic at this time of day, walking would be as fast as a bus or taxi, which is why she had shoved her heels in her backpack. She always thought sneakers and a business suit looked silly, but practical was more important right now. Sneakers would get her to Anson Hall much faster.

If she was lucky, she'd make it on time and Gavin wouldn't give her the infamous 'look'. Melissa thought it was astonishing that all of the grad students should be so intimidated by a short, overweight, middle aged woman, but every one of them lived in fear of Professor Gavin's wrath. Of course, the department chair had a major influence over their field assignments and the selection of professors to serve on their dissertation committee. Both those things could make or break a grad student.

Melissa also resented Dr. Gavin's picking her for VIP tour duty. She felt like decoration, meant to appeal to the mostly male visitors eyes and egos. While Melissa certainly didn't consider herself beautiful, she knew that compared to the other grad students, she knew she came out well ahead. Something about archeology seemed to attract stocky, frizzle-haired women. The two other women in her year were pleasant enough, but they didn't date much.

"Of course," Melissa reflected, "its not like my dating has made me any happier."

The male grad students weren't anything that got her excited either. The ones who weren't completely anti-social were nice guys, but none of them really clicked for her. She grimaced, "Guess they're not 'bad boy' enough... like that's been working for me."

Dating hadn't been very successful either, when she was an undergraduate, or even in the two years after graduation when she worked for the state environmental agency. Her love life had erratically veered between hooking up with exciting bad boys or plodding relationships with nice boys. The nice boys were boring and the bad boys inevitably turned out to be assholes. "Although generally not as quickly as last night", she thought, grimacing yet again.

She'd dated a couple of boys that her parents really liked. They were steady, smart, even handsome. But as much as she had wanted there to be something special, both times things just fizzled out. Sex was boring. They were boring.

"Maybe it's time to go back to girls?" In a drunken college moment during junior year, getting over yet another bad hooking-up experience, she'd found herself making out with another woman. Jill was one girls in her kayaking club. They wound up back at Jill's dorm room, sitting on her bed sharing a bottle of premixed Margaritas, complaining about how horrible college dating was.

Jill had launched into a diatribe about what awful kissers boys were. Melissa disagreed. With fond memories, she described how a guy she dated for awhile in high school would kiss her lightly along the contours of her neck, with small licks in the hollow of her collar bone and nibbles on her ear. As Melissa recalled his technique, she traced out a path on Jill's neck with her finger tips. Without any planned intention, a warm sense of arousal had quietly grown.

Breaking the tension, Jill giggled nervously and joked, "Yeah, well the best I ever had was..." Then she leaned over and planted a series of wet sloppy kisses on Melissa's neck.

"Eww, yech," Melissa cried out. She laughed uncontrollably and flailed drunkenly to escape Jill's tongue. They both collapsed backwards onto the bed in peals of laughter.

When they finally stopped laughing, Melissa looked over at Jill and said with mock sternness, "No, it's like this you silly little girl." Melissa turned over on all fours and instructed Jill, "Close your eyes and pretend it's Ryan."

Jill asked puzzled, "Ryan?"

"Yeah, you know, cute tight assed Ryan, president of the kayak club."

Jill smiled and then purred back, "Oh yeah, Ryan,". As ordered, she closed her eyes and snuggled in.

Melissa bent her head down and gently nuzzled Jill's neck, nibbling her way up towards her ear. A soft groan escaped Jill and she stretched out to expose more of her tender skin. Melissa allowed her eyes to close also, as she worked her way across Jill's brow, down the side of her nose, and down her cheek towards her lips.

She was still unsure if she was going to kiss Jill on the mouth when Jill unexpectedly turned her head and kissed Melissa directly on her mouth. Jill giggled softly and parted her lips, stroking her tongue along Melissa's lips. After a long moment's hesitation, Melissa opened her lips to accept Jill's tongue, and then then with surprising eagerness, pushed her own tongue into Jill's mouth.

For several minutes, they kissed one another, alternating between passionate fervor and gentle exploration, mutually marveling at the softness of kissing another woman. Finally Melissa broke contact to reposition herself from being on her hands and knees to lying down on top of Jill. Melissa's thigh came to rest firmly against the zipper of Jill's blue jeans. Jill sighed in appreciation, lifting her hips to bring herself more direct contact with Melissa's thigh. Jill wiggled gently against Melissa, seating her mound firmly against the woman above her.

Then Jill raised her thigh in turn, to press against Melissa. The skirt Melissa was wearing had bunched up near her waist and Jill's denim-clad leg came to rest directly against the wet cotton of Melissa thong. Jill could feel the dampness through her jeans. Melissa's thong was already soaked, as was Jill's. Melissa shifted position a little to rub herself up and down Jill's pant leg. Closing her eyes, Melissa found herself making small, desperate mewing sounds, which seemed to escape unbidden from her throat.

Melissa forced herself to pause, opening her eyes to look Jill in the face. She asked hesitantly, "Is it okay if I come?" Jill's broad smile was answer enough. Melissa lifted herself up to straddle Jill's leg and rode back and forth much more aggressively. Sooner than either of them expected, Melissa's panting turned into an animal growl of an especially intense orgasm.

As her last shudder subsided, Melissa slumped back down onto the bed.

Jill looked across the covers over at her, cocked an eyebrow, and mockingly chastised her, "Oh you're just a greedy little girl."

Melissa only smiled in return, nodding slowly in satisfied agreement. Jill reached out and stroked Melissa's face. Melissa closed her eyes and sighed. After a minute, she reached up to touch Jill's hand, grasping it in a soft squeeze. Melissa rolled over to face Jill, asking quietly, "Take off your clothes. I want to see you naked."

Jill hesitated a moment, then slipped from the bed to stand in the middle of her room. Looking directly into Melissa's eyes, Jill reached down to the hem of her tee shirt and pulled it up over her head. Melissa lazy smile expanded into a broad grin as she took in Jill's athletic, narrow hipped form. Her small breasts were jutting against a simple cotton bra. Jill reached around to unhook her bra, letting it drop to the floor. Her nipples were tight rose-colored buds on top of small, pale, swollen areola. Melissa sighed with deep satisfaction at the sight of Jill's revealed form.

Reassured, Jill's hands dropped to her waistband. She unsnapped her jeans and slowly drew down her down. With a mischievous grin, she shimmied her jeans down into a pile around her ankles. Stepping out of her jeans, Jill closed her eyes and she hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her thong. She eased the damp scrap of cloth over her narrow hips where it fell past her lean legs and landed around her ankles on the floor.

Jill opened her eyes uncertainly, trying to gauge Melissa's reaction. She smiled as she found no cause for concern in Melissa's admiring gaze. Indeed, Melissa whispered, "God you're beautiful,", She held out a hand, "Come over here."

Jill crossed to the bed, unsure of where to sit. Melissa smiled encouragingly and said, "On top of me." Jill's eyes widened in surprise. Melissa reached up to Jill, drawing her down until Jill straddled Melissa's chest. Then Melissa shimmied herself down the bed to the point where she was looking up at Jill's recently trimmed mound. Lifting her head higher, Melissa swiped her tongue across Jill's inner thighs, evoking a shudder. Glimmering beads of moisture had gathered along the crease where Jill's soft, smooth labia joined.

Seeing such clear proof of Jill's arousal, Melissa reached up to Jill's hips and pulled her closer. Melissa drew her tongue lightly along that moistened line where Jill's swollen labia joined, and was rewarded by a shuddering gasp from Jill.

Pausing for a moment, Melissa drew her tongue back into her mouth to consider the taste. Jill had a pungent sweetness. It was similar, but different, from the times when Melissa had tasted her own juices while sucking on her partner's penis in the midst of making love.

Melissa lifted her head back to Jill's sex. More firmly now, she drew her tongue along the cleft between Jill's labia, teasing the cleft open. She was greeted by a gush of warm liquid, wetting Melissa's lips and chin. Undeterred, Melissa swept her tongue forward and up, circling around Jill's painfully erect clitoris. Gently, she flicked her tongue back and forth across the hood, then lapped upwards, easing the hood out of the way and exposing the pale bud of Jill's now throbbing clitoris. As gently as she could, Melissa took the tiny bud into her mouth and sucked on it. Jill exploded into a bucking orgasm, fluid pulsing out of her, coating Melissa's mouth and chin.

With a long moan, Jill slumped forward, still trembling.

Melissa laughed. She turned over, wiping away the wetness of her chin against one of Jill's splayed out legs. Melissa grinned up at Jill and said teasingly, "Guess I know what you like."



The next day, Melissa woke with a thick head and a dull headache from an almost-hangover. She was in her own bed, alone in her dorm room.

Melissa had avoided staying over in Jill's room, saying she needed to get up early for a class. The reality was that she was terrified to sleep over with Jill. She didn't know what she would say in the morning. She didn't know what she would feel in the morning.

Saying good bye last night, it was clear to Melissa that Jill had figured out that she didn't have an early class. Melissa could see Jill's hurt expression. Melissa wanted to reassure her, but she didn't know what to say that wouldn't be trite.

As the buzz of alcohol and arousal had worn off, a deep sense of shame and wrongness undermined Melissa's confidence. Saying goodbye, she felt frightened.

Walking back to her dorm, a furious sense of panic swept through her. "Was she a lesbian? What happened to getting married to the man of her dreams, living in a nice house outside the city, having kids?" Instead, an image stuck in her mind that horrified her. She saw herself thirty years in the future: an overweight middle aged lesbian sitting alone in a seedy dyke bar.

She angrily shook her head. "It was a fling. A drunk experiment. A stupid moment. I've liked guys all my life. That's not going to change just because I found out the idea of being with a woman doesn't totally gross me out. Besides, guys like girls that are a little bit bi... Yeah, sure, not that I'm ever going to tell anyone."

Jill texted her later that morning, "evrthng ok?"

Melissa texted back, "ok paper due. sorry busy c u ltr."

It was two days before they ran into each other in the dining hall. Melissa had a hard time meeting Jill's eyes, and that told both of them all they needed to know.

Almost three years later now, Melissa felt very ashamed of her reaction. She knew she had really hurt Jill. The intervening time had proven to her that this one experience hadn't instantly turned her into a man-hating radical lesbian. She knew her fear and shame with Jill had been misplaced.

But now faced with her continued failure in finding a successful relationship with a man, she wondered it was time to see what dating a woman might be like.

Rounding a corner, she saw Anson Hall across the green. Quickly checking her cell phone display, she was grateful that she had just time to stash her backpack and get to Professor Gavin's office.



Summer Hire Ch. 03



Chapter 3

A New Beginning

Melissa slipped into the departmental office, her feet feeling sticky and sweaty in the pumps she had hastily shoved on. She looked around and saw the visitors' chairs were empty. Then Professor Gavin's office door opened and the departmental admin stepped out. When he saw Melissa, he nodded back to the office and whispered, "They just went in." He held the door open and waved her in, "Go ahead."

Melissa stepped in politely, gave Professor Gavin a small half wave, and turned to sit in one of the empty chairs. She almost tripped over her heels when she saw the VIP. He was gorgeous.

Angrily, she seized hold of her reaction and shoved it back down. She reminded herself that she had just sworn off men, particularly tall dark attractive guys that just screamed "bad boy" like this one did.

Melissa realized that she was also amazed. The visitor couldn't have been much over 30 years old, but he sat at Gavin's battered conference table with the easy grace of money and power that Melissa had come to recognize in Gavin's VIP visitors, most of whom who were grey-haired CEO's of big companies or foundations.

His eyes flicked to meet hers, connecting with a quick, penetrating stare. Something in the complete self-assuredness of his gaze told her that he hadn't simply inherited his money. There was a flash of a carnivore that was not too deeply hidden behind his politely arranged features.

He looked back to Dr. Gavin for an introduction. She cleared her throat and gestured at Melissa, "Erik Greenwood, I'd like you to meet Melissa Conlin. She's one of our bright, young PhD candidates. She'll be showing you around once we're done here."

Erik rose smoothly to his feet and held out his hand. Melissa reached across the table to shake it. She was startled to find her heart pounding.

She felt hyper aware and completely scattered at the same time. She noted a jumble of small details. A slim black leather portfolio lay on the table in front of Erik. The leather looked like the the kind of kid skin that was used in fancy gloves. His suit was a beautifully tailored gray chalk-stripe. He wore it with casual ease, as though it could have been a well-worn denim shirt. The tropical weight wool draped across his shoulders and chest, following the form of what looked to be a well-muscled torso. He didn't have the bulk of a body-builder, but she was fairly certain that he was in great shape.

As they shook, his hand felt warm and dry in hers. She smiled politely, trying to mask how flustered she felt. Inside, however, a pounding "fight or flight" reflex was at war with her sense of self-control.

He smiled back briefly and let go of her hand. Turning back to Professor Gavin, he sat down again. Melissa continued to stand awkwardly. Professor Gavin gave her a questioning look, which broke through her stasis. Snapping into the present, Melissa quickly moved to sit down in an empty chair at the conference table.

Erik and the department chair continued with the preliminary small talk that Melissa's arrival had interrupted. While they chatted, Melissa silently cursed herself, "You fool. You stupid fool! He's a big muckity-muck. I'm a first year grad student. I can't go all teenage blithering idiot on him. He'd just laugh at me." The image of being ridiculed helped dash cold water on her racing hormones. She could feel her panicked tension slowly easing, and was grateful for the returning sense of sanity.

She wondered wryly, "What the hell drugs did somebody slip me last night? First, going off with that asshole Tony. Then dredging up all that stuff about Jill this morning. And deciding to date women? Now getting all wet over this guy. What the hell is going on?" Melissa realized with acute embarrassment that she actually was wet. She angrily told herself, "Oh crap girl, get a fucking grip!"

Erik was answering a question from Professor Gavin, so Melissa decided to tune in.

"I'm a turn-around guy. Owners bring me into companies that have gotten in trouble. By the time I arrive, the situation's generally pretty grim. It's usually a "do this or die" moment, so it's actually a lot easier to make the big changes that everyone's ignored for way too long.

"I run things for awhile. Fix what's wrong. Most of the time, there's something of value that I can salvage. At the end of the day, I get paid with a piece of the action, which has worked out reasonably well for me."

Professor Gavin leaned forward with a smile, "Bob tells me that you've done quite well indeed."

He shrugged, "Bob exaggerates a bit. But yes, I do have some... excess resources." He smiled a little ruefully, "Worse than that, I'm a little bored."

Professor Gavin cocked her head in a question, so he continued, "My last engagement's mostly done. I don't have anything immediately on my plate right now. It's the first time in a couple of years that I've been able to come up for air. So I'm looking around for something different, a distraction."

Professor Gavin asked with mock offense, "So archeology is a distraction?"

Erik laughed, "It has been for me. When I'm on assignment, I often read books or journal articles on archeology to relax at night. It pulls me out of the minutia and lets me get some perspective."

He paused for a moment, searching for the right words. "I've started to realize how much the field of archeology has changed over the last few years. It seems as though the changes in funding sources have had a significant impact on the sort of work that gets done."

Professor Gavin nodded encouragingly for him to continue.

"As I understand it, most of your funding these days comes from large construction projects, because they're legally required to do archeological survey work. Understandably, there's substantial pressure to move quickly on those jobs. And most of the sites aren't actually all that interesting. Meanwhile, it seems like the majority of the government funding has dried up. And the government grants that do get awarded don't seem to be particularly... well, ambitious. It's as though all the tolerance for risk has disappeared."

She shook her head sadly in agreement, "Welcome to my world Mr. Greenwood. Over the past twenty years, archeology has gotten far more bureaucratic and boring." She turned to Melissa with a smile and joked, "Cover your ears, dear. These sad truths aren't meant for bright young grad students."

Turning back to Erik, she continued, "You're surprisingly perceptive for an outsider, Mr. Greenwood."

"Please call me Erik. Perceptive? Perhaps, but I'm sure everything I just said has been painfully obvious to you folks for awhile."

She nodded, "Yes indeed, but how does this insight of yours bring you to us, Erik."

Melissa had watched Gavin in many of these fundraising moments before, and knew that she was pressing for a donation. Looking over at Erik, it was clear he knew what she was asking as well.

"Well, I'd like to change this dynamic in my own small way. I'm interested in funding a multi-year dig, and all the associated follow-up back here."

Professor Gavin nodded thoughtfully, "You realize that can be expensive. A project like that can cost one or two million dollars..."

"Oh, I'm prepared to be a fair amount more generous than that." Professor Gavin sat up straighter as he continued, "What's more important to me is the type of project. Simply put, I want to roll the dice." He paused for a moment and looked directly at her, "I want your faculty to propose their fantasy projects — the sort of high-risk, high-payoff, but low-probability stuff — the sorts of projects that don't get funded anymore. I'm looking for a project that could change how we think about ourselves and how we got here."

He smiled at the uncertain look on her face. "Don't worry, I know there's actually very little chance for any one project to succeed in that goal. But I want to give somebody a shot at it."

She leaned back. "Wow, that's a fascinating opportunity. That'll generate some excitement around here. How exactly did you see this structured?"

"Mostly as a straightforward grant proposal process. I'll give you a very short RFP asking for proposals, along with some guidelines on total cost and duration. Say 45 days for responses. I'll want your help in the evaluation process, but otherwise I'll keep the proposals strictly confidential. I'll make the final decision, 30 days after getting the proposals."

Professor Gavin thought for a moment. "I see... but summer break has just started. The faculty and grad students will be heading off for summer digs, vacations, other work... could you make the RFP period 60 days?"

"OK, but I want everything wrapped up before the fall semester begins." She nodded in agreement.

Then he continued, "Once I make the final selection, I'll transfer the full amount of funding to the university. But I'll want quarterly reports and there'll be annual reviews. If I think the project is completely off track, or if everyone thinks it's not worth continuing, I'll pull the plug and the remaining funds will transfer to the university's unrestricted giving account."

She hesitated again, not certain how to respond. At last she said, "I see you've given this some thought. I'll need to get the university's legal office to review the funding and oversight mechanism."

He opened the black portfolio in front of him and pulled out a card. "Here's my card. I've written my lawyer's name and contact info on the back. Your legal folks can work out the specific language with him."

She gingerly took the card from him. Melissa saw the front of it was simple, engraved with only his name, phone number, and e-mail address.

Professor Gavin studied the card for a moment, and then continued in a deliberately positive tone. "You have indeed presented us with an amazing opportunity. I am very grateful for your confidence in our faculty and students."

She smiled and shifted to a more confidential tone, "This is going to cause a real stir amongst the faculty. Chances like this just don't come along very much any more. I truly am very grateful. You'll have to excuse my being a bit bowled over."

He smiled and spread open his hands, "I'm sorry. Bad habits from the business world. In my 'day job', I tend to be a somewhat direct and move pretty fast. It carries over. But as for your faculty, I really do hope they see this as a great opportunity. I very much want to encourage them to be willing to reach well beyond the comfort zone of a regular grant proposal.

"When the lawyers draft up the agreement, you'll see that there'll be some language reserving my right to fund more than one project. I don't intend to swamp you, but you have some really good talent in this department. I'm hoping that more than one proposal is worthy of going forward."

"Wow." She paused for a moment of consideration, tapping her finger absentmindedly on a manila folder in front of her. "This could be a real breath of fresh air... a hurricane, more likely."

Pushing the manila folder over to Melissa, Professor Gavin continued, "I understand that you have a couple of hours available now to meet some of our faculty members individually. I put together an itinerary for you. Melissa will take you around."

Professor Gavin apologized, "I'm sorry, I would have taken you around myself, but I'm committed to a Dean's meeting in a few minutes."

"No problem," he assured her. Smiling at Melissa, he chuckled and said, "I'm sure I'm in good hands."

"Damn," Melissa thought, "all he's got to do is look at me and I clench up."

Melissa gathered up the folder as they all stood up. While Gavin and Greenwood shook hands, she opened the folder and quickly scanned the names and times. Professor Gavin walked them to the outer door. Once in the hallway, Erik turned to Melissa and asked, "So, where to?"

Melissa replied, "First we'll go upstairs to Professor Dockrety." Walking together down the hallway, Melissa tried hard to tamp down a feeling of electricity she felt running between her and Erik. She looked over at him, but he didn't seem to be doing anything in particular to cause such a feeling.

He noticed her gaze and lifted an eyebrow in query. Reaching quickly for a reasonable explanation, she said, "That was a pretty amazing meeting. I think you really surprised Professor Gavin."

He nodded in agreement. "Well, I had an unfair advantage."

Melissa gave him a questioning look in turn, so he explained further, "I knew what I wanted. I had a pretty fair idea of what she wanted. In business... hell in any negotiation, that kind of knowledge gives you a great deal of leverage."

He seemed to realize that his words might have sounded harsh, so he added, "Of course, my goal wasn't to take advantage of you guys. Truth is, I hate wasting time on lots of back and forth negotiations. Plus we didn't really have a long meeting slot."

He laughed quietly and continued, "Course, all that said, the truth is more likely that striking fast is just a bad habit of mine. Makes people uncomfortable sometimes... most times." He smiled at her, shrugging, "But I do try to keep it in check. Truly I do."

He laughed again and she joined in this time, surprised at his easy candor. As they turned to go up the stairs, they feel into companionable silence. She thought back to how she felt sitting in Gavin's office, listening to Erik and Gavin talking. Melissa was used to the department chair being completely in control of meetings. Today was different. Even though Erik had been polite, and at times seemed deferring, he had been in charge the whole time. Melissa realized that she couldn't recall a moment where there had been any wrestling for control. Erik simply had it.

Unbidden, an image floated through her mind of Erik pushing her up against a wall. As the scene played out, she was helpless while he kissed her. Suddenly he was inside of her and she was moaning in pleasure. "Whoa," she told herself, pushing the rapidly unfolding fantasy away. "Get it under control. He's a major league donor, not my little wet dream. Gavin will kill me if I screw this up."

They reached the top of the staircase. She felt his appraising gaze on her. She was a little startled, wondering if he could have somehow sensed her thoughts. He smiled approvingly at her. She nodded back, feeling vaguely unsettled, wondering what exactly she had done to gain his approval. She also realized that she was a little worried about the powerful thrill his look of approval had given her.



* * *



An hour later, on their way to meeting the third professor on her list, Melissa knew she was in real trouble. She was falling hard for this guy, and as best as she could tell, it was all one-way puppy love. He seemed polite and focused on the interviews, not paying attention to her lingering stares.

She had realized that, unfortunately, other people were not so oblivious to her heightened state. They had just finished with Dr. Thompson, who she had always found a little creepy. He was a brilliant guy, and Gavin had recruited him away from another big-name university, but many of the female grad students didn't like being around him. Sitting in his office with Erik, Melissa had felt the professor's eyes on her bare legs in a way that made her wish she had put on pantyhose.

Fortunately, Erik had spent a lot of the time wandering around the professor's office, looking at pictures and artifacts that Thompson had collected from years in the field. The two of them had a lively discussion. Professor Thompson had started off a bit remote and condescending, clearly not happy to be spending time entertaining an amateur. It didn't take long, however, before Erik's piercing curiosity, knowledge, and enthusiasm had lit a fire in Thompson. Melissa had never seen the professor become so engaged and animated.

During most of the visit, Professor Thompson seemed to have forgotten that Melissa was there. She had been free to watch Erik. After valiantly trying to avoid it, she had finally relented to letting fantasies of being naked with Erik course through the mind. When she stood up to leave with Erik, she was worried that she might have a damp spot on the back of her skirt.

What she hadn't expected was Thompson's sudden, sharp appraising look, as though he had ferreted out that she had been spending the whole time fantasying about Erik. She involuntarily ducked her head in embarrassment as they left.

As they walked to the next appointment, Erik seemed lost in thought. Melissa was also feeling distracted, trying to push down the rising sense of shame she felt at being caught. She told herself that there was no way Thompson or anyone else could see into her and know what her fantasies had been. Despite her fierce denials, a part of Melissa still felt like the little girl who had been publicly found out and chastised by the parish priest.

Melissa was snapped out of her preoccupation when she realized that Erik had turned right down a small corridor, rather than walking with her down the main hallway. He still seemed lost in thought, so she turned and hurried to catch up him.

She just reached him when turned to walk into a darkened small, empty seminar room. He held the door for her as she followed me in, and then closed it behind them.

Looking around, he said, "I noticed this little room on the way to see Bill Dockrety." He walked over to glance at a white board and then leaned back against a table. Looking at Melissa, he motioned her to join him. She walked over, puzzled. The lights were off in the seminar room, and the blinds were closed. With the door closed, the room was dim. She thought that Erik looked like a very comfortable predator in that darkened space. He almost seemed as though a cat watching a mouse.

Some part of her was unsure and even a little worried. A larger part was thrilled.

Erik smiled. A gentleness in his features put her more at ease. He began, "So there seems to be this really wonderful chemistry going on between us." Melissa felt puzzled, unsure what he was talking about. If he meant how attracted she was to him, as far as she could tell, it was only one way.

He saw her uncertainty. "Perhaps I'm better at hiding my feelings than you, but Dr. Gavin, a couple of the grad students we passed in the hall, and especially that asshole Thompson, they all noticed something. And they know you a lot better, so it's easier for them to see what you're feeling."

Suddenly, Melissa started to feel a little panicky and trapped. Erik set his portfolio down and reached out to take her hands in his. In a soft voice, he sought to reassure her, "Hey, I'm really attracted to you. There's a sort of amazing chemistry thing that's been happening here, and I'd really like to explore it further. But right now, I'm worried that what's happening, that my being here is going to cause problems for you. And I don't want to do that."

Seeing that he wasn't entirely making sense to Melissa, he tried to explain again, "If there's something special here, I'd rather find that out, away from all your professors and the other students you work with. I don't know, it just doesn't seem fair to expose you to all the possible gossip. Does that make sense?

Melissa's heart accelerated as she realized that he was telling her that he liked her. The pause as he waited for her response lengthened. She found herself responding, "Uh, yeah. It makes sense."

Inside, she told herself, "Oh that was fucking brilliant. Sounded like you're all of fifteen years old there." Erik saw she was flustered. He gently let go of her hands and picked up his portfolio. Opening it, he pulled out another of his cards and turned it over. She saw that this one was blank on the back. He wrote a phone number on the back.

He handed her the card. "That's my cell phone number." She took it, looking at the card without really focusing on it. After waiting a bit, he asked, "Do you have a cell phone number, or a way I can reach you?"




Summer Hire Ch. 03



"Ah sure, yeah, I mean that would be great," she stammered. Then she gave him her phone number and also added her e-mail address, remembering that the front of his card had his e-mail as well.

He wrote down her information while she looked at his card again. She smiled, realizing that he hadn't already prepared this card with his cell phone number. After he had given Gavin his card with his lawyer's name and number already written on the back, she had wondered just how prepared and sure of himself he was. She told herself, "The guy's not some all knowing, all controlling asshole. He's just a guy... well, a really cute, rich, sexy guy."

Looking down at her, Erik said, "What do we do now?"

Melissa didn't immediately respond. Instead she distracted herself with the realization that even wearing her heels and with him leaning back against a table, he was still a little taller than she was.

Without thinking consciously about it, she stepped in closer to him. He grinned a little lopsidedly and said, "Okay, I guess we could try to relieve some of that tension."

Standing up, he took the manila folder from her and put it down behind him. Then he took her hands and circled them around her back so they were touching. He bent down to give her a chaste kiss on her lips. That kiss, nonetheless, seared straight through her, seemingly to land right on her pelvis, where her sex began throbbing.

She lifted her head up to meet his lips, but he didn't kiss her again right away. First, he drew her arms further up behind her, until her hands met the opposite elbow, her arms crisscrossed behind her back. She gasped quietly at having her arms held behind her.

He smiled at her reaction, clearly pleased. Then he backed her up against the whiteboard until the eraser tray pressed her hips into him. She closed her eyes. A small, involuntary groan of pleasure escaped from her parted lips. He chuckled quietly as he pressed himself between her legs. She gasped again. He rained light little kisses over her face and neck.

Before she even realized it was happening, she orgasmed in quick, shuddering bursts.

When she was finished he stepped partway back, looking down at her blissful, post-coital expression. He whispered, mostly to himself, "Oh you are definitely so much more than I had imagined."

Then he laughed quietly and told her, "I'm afraid that I didn't really help matters." Taking in the languid way she still leaned against the wall, he continued, "It doesn't look like you're going to be in any shape to meet our next professor... and I'm already late."

He picked her manila folder and his portfolio. "I'll go on by myself. If anyone asks, I'll say you weren't feeling well. That will give you some time to... ah, recover."

Walking to the door, he called over his shoulder, "I'll call you later today." Then he was gone.

Rousing herself from her stupor, she asked out loud, "What the fuck was that?"

The room replied with continued silence, only the air conditioning whispering.

Shrugging, she answered herself, "Who the fuck cares? It was wonderful."

"So what do I do now? Go home and wait by the phone till he calls?"

The empty room still didn't reply, so she did, "Yep, sounds like a plan."

She walked out into the hallway, much happier than she had imagined being today.



Summer Hire Ch. 04



Interlude

Erik pulled out of the parking lot, absently noting the traffic conditions as he reviewed the morning's events. The meeting with Gavin had gone about as he expected. She wasn't going to turn down the money. He know that what made his offer irresistible was his willingness to fund something risky that nobody else would touch. Every professor worth their PhD was certain have some secret passion, some long shot that they never thought would see the light of day.

Erik laughed. It would be like throwing chunks of raw meat to starving dogs. While it might turn into a real fur ball, some great ideas would hopefully come out of it. He loved finding people's secret motivations and then aligning their passions to his purpose. His skill in doing that was a large part of his success in turning around failing companies.

For the last few months, however, he had been without an assignment. He was bored. Scuba diving in the Maldives had been fun, but he had discovered that vacation travel without someone to share it was lonely. Even though there had been plenty of willing bed partners, none of those women had filled whatever it was that was missing for him.

He came back vaguely dissatisfied and eager to begin the new assignment that had been waiting for him. Once he dug into the numbers, however, it quickly became clear that the owners had been lying to themselves and everyone else. The situation was impossible. He told them that their only option was to close it down and walk away.

Then he went back home and looked for something to do. The next possible assignment would start until the fall. In the meantime, he built a new kitchen table in his wood shop. The archeology project had been fun to get started, but now he had two months until the proposals came in.

Which brought him back to Melissa. He felt a warm sense of hope that grew bolder as he drove home.

She was very attractive. From the way she had carried herself when she first came into Gavin's office, he had immediately sensed a strong and lively intelligence. Very soon after, he had realized there was a mutual sexual attraction.

He had, however, pushed that attraction away. He needed to focus on the meeting with the department chair. Even though he had been doing his best to ignore it, the intensity of the feeling had constantly nudged at him, hinting at something deeper. There seemed to be some connection, a compatibility of natures, as though there were two parts coming together to make a whole.

He had finally tested the connection he had hoped to find in the room upstairs. Her response had made it clear. Despite her headstrong nature, a current of submissiveness ran through her sexuality. What surprised him the most was that she seemed completely oblivious to her own hidden passion, even though her response had been powerful and immediate.

He took a slow, deep breath to relax the tension that had been building inside. He really hoped that Melissa would be more than a one week fling. It would be nice to have something to do until the next assignment came along in a couple of months.

Chapter 4

Job Offer

Melissa nervously checked the map on her phone once again. She was still on the correct road. The sun flickered through the the deep green trees lining the street. She drove with her window down, enjoying the warmth of the day. She had pulled her hair back in a ponytail, so she wasn't worried about the wind messing with a careful hairdo that she had considered and dismissed earlier that morning.

Ever since Erik's call two days ago, she had been distracted and nervous, trying to figure out how she wanted their date to go. Except it wasn't a 'date', she reminded herself. She had insisted on something neutral, something during the day, simply because she didn't trust herself alone with him at night. She didn't want to have one quick roll in the hay, only to have him disappear forever.

They had agreed on a walk along a creek in a park near his house. She had worn a one-piece bathing suit under her jeans and shirt, just to slow things down if she somehow did wind up with her pants down around her ankles.

She told herself that choosing to wear a one pice bathing suit didn't necessarily show a lack of trust in her own resolve, but the scene in the seminar room kept playing back in her mind. Once her post-orgasmic bliss had faded, she had been incredibly embarrassed that she actually had an orgasm with someone she had just met, while they were both still fully clothed. Fortunately, he hadn't said anything about it on the phone.

She checked the map again. She was coming up on his house. She started paying closer attention to the area she was driving through. The properties were at least several acres each, with big houses set well back among large trees. Some houses, she couldn't even see from the road. "I'll be damned," she muttered to herself, "definite old money territory."

Up ahead, she spotted a mailbox with his house number on it. She slowed and turned into his driveway. There was no sign of a house. The driveway wound past some trees and underbrush. It seemed to vanish behind a tree-covered slope to the left.

She slowed her car to a crawl, pondering the wisdom of continuing. She hadn't told anyone where she was going. She was too embarrassed to be dating a VIP donor. "It's not a date," she joked out loud, trying to break the tension that had suddenly gripped her.

"Come on. He's a big deal muckity-muck. It's not like he's going to tie me up and rape me." She was annoyed to feel her sex clench tight in pleasure at the thought. She always hated how much rape fantasies turned her on. She knew that the reality of rape and white slavery were truly horrible. Knowing that ugliness, however, didn't seem to stop her erotic fantasies from drifting in direction of being tied up and helpless before a man who would use her mercilessly for his own pleasure.

Her car was still slowly drifting forward. She snapped her attention back to the driveway and sped up. "Yeah, and that's why I'm wearing a bathing suit underneath my hiking clothes. And it ain't coming off. Hear that Mr. Rich Guy? I'm a good little Catholic girl... well, I was... and it still ain't coming off."

Around the bend, the house appeared. Actually, it was a gathering of low structures, spread out across the brow of the slope, overlooking a meadow and stream. The buildings were made of stone and weathered wood, with slate roofs. It reminded her of something that might have been designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, at once both comfortable and beautiful.

The driveway emptied into a courtyard that was upslope from the main building. She saw now that the main entrance was on what must be the upper floor. The largest building followed the contour of the slope, sweeping down toward the meadow. On the other side of the courtyard, a set of large wooden doors were set into a stone retaining wall, with the slope rising behind to the top of the hill. Further on, the courtyard narrowed into a pathway that ran between several smaller cottages.

She parked the car and looked around uncertainly, not sure if she should get out. She heard a screen door swing open and bang shut. Looking back, she saw Erik coming out of the main house. He was dressed in blue jeans that clung to his form and a simple white button-down shirt with rolled-up sleeves. His shirt had the sightly rumpled look of a cotton-linen blend that hadn't been ironed. He was wearing hiking boots that had clearly seen much use.

Erik waved and said, "Welcome!" She got out as he walked up. He smiled and continued, "I see you found the place. It's great to see you again." He stopped several steps away, removing, she realized, any question of whether he would shake hands or kiss her. In all her obsessing about how the 'not-a-date' would go, she hadn't even considered this moment. She was relieved that he had so simply sidestepped the issue, although a momentary feeling of disappointment tugged at her for not being kissed.

Stepping hard on her internal complaint, she replied, "Great to see you again too. You've got a really beautiful place."

"Thanks. Well come on in. We can grab some water and head out towards the creek."

"Ah, okay."

They walked together towards the front door. The screen door was old-fashioned, made of wood with worn paint. The inner door was open. The interior looked cool and dim through the sunlight glinting off the screen. Erik opened the screen door and gestured her in.

Melissa stepped into his house, which she now realized stepped down the slope in its interior layout. The entry was at the highest point, with a long sloping ceiling stretching down across a large expanse of space spreading out below. Half a level down in front of her was a large, open country kitchen. Another half-level below that was a crescent-shaped living area. The far wall of the living area was lined with sliding glass doors, leading out onto a terrace. Beyond that, the slope continued down across the meadow to the creek. On the far side of the creek, a wooded slope rose beyond the view of the windows from where she stood. Through small eyebrow windows at her level, she could glimpse far off trees and blue sky.

"Erik, this is gorgeous!"

"It is wonderful to come back here when I've been off living in some monthly apartment rental on an assignment. You should see this place in the snow."

She nodded, now seeing the large stone fireplace, imaging for a moment lying intertwined with him on a thick rug in front of a glowing fire while a winter storm howled outside. She shook away the image and asked, "But how do you take care of this place, if you're away for months?"

"There's a wonderful older couple who live in one of the guest houses. They take care of almost everything around here. Mrs. Grady even cooks for me sometimes when I'm around and I'm too busy to cook for myself. She's quite good, and would spoil me rotten if I let her."

"You call her 'Mrs. Grady'?"

"Well, she's British, and it just seemed like the thing to do. I call her husband Chuck. He's American... Except when I'm around her, I refer to him as Mr. Grady."

She cocked her head at him, still puzzled.

"Oh, she's sweet enough. Very kind, really. It's just that grey-haired British sense of reserve. She introduced herself to me as Mrs. Grady, and it seemed wrong to call her anything else. At least she doesn't call me 'young Master Erik'. That would be silly.

"Anyway, let me grab some water and then we can head out. Should I bring along any snack bars?" Erik started down the steps into the kitchen and Melissa followed. She looked around, seeing what looked like a study lined with bookshelves on the upper level. She saw that Erik had set it up as a working office for himself.

"Ah, no. I just ate. Water will be fine."

Erik opened up a black anodized aluminum refrigerator door and pulled out a canteen. He snapped it onto his belt and joined Melissa to head down the next set of steps to the living area. She noted the comfortable overstuffed leather couches and chairs as they passed though and out onto the terrace. Erik gestured down to the creek, "Across that is state park land. Upstream, it's park land on both sides. They allow hunting in the fall. The woods are crawling with hunters for a few weeks. Other than that, though, it's pretty quiet. Well, except for the daisies running riot."

Melissa looked at him puzzled again.

"Sorry, just a bit of song lyric I've always liked." As they walked to the steps down to the meadow, he began in a soft tenor,

"It's a lazy afternoon
And the beetle bugs are zoomin'
And the tulip trees are bloomin'
And there's not another human in view
But us two.

"It's a lazy afternoon
And the farmer leaves his reapin'
In the meadow cows are sleepin'
And the speckled trout stop leapin' up stream
As we dream.

"A fat pink cloud hangs over the hill
Unfoldin' like a rose
If you hold my hand and sit real still 
You can hear the grass as it grows.

"It's a hazy afternoon
And I know a place that's quiet, 'cept for daisies running riot 
And there's no one passing by it to see
Come spend this lazy afternoon with me

By the time he finished, they were down to the creek. He gestured upstream, and they walked together. Melissa said, "That was really lovely. I think my dad sometimes used to listen to that song. He likes jazz."

"Yeah,me too. The song's an old show tune, though. I just like the jazz version of it. So what does your dad do?"

"He's got a heating and air conditioning business. He does pretty well at it. He never went to college, but he sent all of us through. He's even helping out with my grad school, although grant money covers a lot, and I worked for a couple of years before going back."

"Have you got a lot of brothers and sisters?"

"Two older, one younger. Joe, Mary, me, and Sean."

"An I'm guessing that's it's an Irish Catholic lot," he intoned with a soft Irish lilt.

"Aye now, from County Kildare." She laughed, "Actually, both sides of my family have been in the States for a couple of generations, so I'm not entirely sure where we all are from. Mostly Brooklyn and St. Louis.

"How about you?"

He looked pensive for a minute before answering. "My mom was first-generation Ukrainian Jewish. Her parents were smuggled out just before the Second World War. My dad was a Mayflower blue blood mutt."

She asked, "Was?"

"Yeah, they both died in a car accident when I was young. I lived with my dad's parents, but my uncle, my mom's brother, really raised me."

He saw the curiosity in her face and continued, "My grandparents had a big house and servants, but they weren't around much. My uncle would come over and eat dinner with me in the kitchen, and we'd do homework together. I spent a lot of my weekends with him too. He's a college professor."

Erik paused, seeming unsure wether or not to say more, then he continued, "I didn't realize until a few years ago that he's gay. He's not really comfortable with it. I think he liked helping raise me, because then he had an excuse not to date.

"I razz him now about finding a nice man and settling down. He's still embarrassed to talk about it, but I think he's loosening up. He's truly a great guy and deserves to be happy."

The trail they had been following along the creek petered out into a fierce looking thicket ahead. Erik pointed at the rocks that littered the flow of the creek along this section. "Here. Follow me." Then he started hopping from rock to rock, crossing to the other side. Once reaching the far bank, he turned and called out, "It's easy."

Melissa snorted, "Ha, that's what you say. You just want to see me get wet." She looked carefully at the rocks, retracing in her mind the path he had taken. Then she set out, not as swiftly, but making steady progress. She only wobbled once before making it to the last rock, which was a little further from dry land than she realized.

Erik reached out and took her hand to help her jump across. "See, I told you it was easy." He loosened his grasp, but did not entirely let go of her hand. She let her hand stay in his and they set off up the path on this side of the creek.

She asked, "So what got you into rescuing companies?"

"I'm good at it. Not sure why, but I've been doing it since I got out of school. My uncle hooked me up with a group that specializes in turn-arounds. At lot of folks in this line of work just 'turn and burn', they mostly work out favorable liquidations or asset sales. There's an easier payday that way.

"I like to take on companies that have a real shot at working it out. Mostly the companies are in over their head on debt, and their productivity is in the crapper. It's a death spiral. But if I can rework the management team, lean on the debt holders, and get the workers going again, I can usually get a business back up on its feet. The payout's likely to be slow, but over time, I do well enough."

"Sure looks like it."

Something in her tone made him stiffen, "Yeah, well there's eight companies and several thousand jobs that are around today, that wouldn't have been otherwise."

"Sorry Erik, I really meant that in a positive way. I mean it's clear that you've done good things, not just made money. You wouldn't have made such a beautiful home if you hadn't. Your house isn't some McMansion that screams, 'look at me, I'm successful'. You have a home, a real home I mean, not just a house. Sure, it's kind of big, on a bunch of land, and guest houses even — but even with all that, it's a home. It's warm and cozy. There's goodness here."

"Ah, sorry I snapped. I, um, thanks for what you said."

Distracted, Melissa exclaimed, "Hey, what's that?" She pointed ahead where some large rocks had tumbled together in the creek along with a log, creating a blockage where water spilled over the top and through the gaps.

"I'm not sure. I haven't been up this far since winter. It looks like one of the storms must have rearranged the flow. I'm always amazed at how much a creek can change from year to year."

They walked up to inspect the accidental dam and discovered a deep pool on the upstream side. "Wow, that's awesome," Melissa exclaimed as she kicked off her sneakers. She stuck one foot in and said, "Hey, that's nice."

Erik looked dubious. "You sure. It's a little early in the season. The water's usually warmer later in the summer."

"Wimp," Melissa said, pulling off her shirt. Erik was a little surprised as she started unzipping her jeans, then he realized that she was wearing a blue one piece bathing suit underneath. She gathered up her clothes and set them on a rock, then stepped into the water. "Oh that's wonderful." She continued in until the water reached her waist, then she knelt down, letting the water flow past her shoulders.

She gestured with a teasing grin, "Come in you big sissy."

"Humph!" Erik crouched down to unlace his boots.

Melissa watched him, wondering if he wore boxers or briefs.

With his boots off, Erik quickly stripped off his shirt. Then he unzipped his pants, and Melissa realized that he wore neither boxers nor briefs. He slid his pants down as she looked away, somewhat embarrassed, from the sight of his semi-erect penis. He stepped into the water to join her. She looked back up to him, trying to keep her eyes focused on his head and torso.

She was happy to take in the magnificence of his body, even from the waist up. He was sculpted and lean, without a body builder's bulk. His skin was smooth, without much body hair. She wasn't certain, because she had looked elsewhere so quickly, but she thought that his crotch area was also shaved smooth of hair. Now, he was waist deep in the water, wading over to her, so she couldn't tell for sure if her glimpse had been accurate.

He stopped in front of her. "What do you mean, 'it's nice'? It's freezing!"

"Well, I'm warm in my bathing suit," she said coyly.

"I see. This is all a put-up to lure me naked into this icy water. Well missy, that just won't do. It just won't do." He crossed his arms and looked down at her with mock sternness. "You must be punished."

"Oh no!" She gasped in feigned horror. "Whatever shall I do?"

"You will go to that rock over there." He pointed at a smooth boulder a few feet away. "And rest your forearms across it."

He remained standing, pointing at the rock, as she realized that he wasn't entirely joking. He really wanted her to go over to the rock and lean across it.

"Well go on." His voice was even and measured, but there was a command within it that thrilled and scared her. She hesitated.

He lowered his chin, glowering a little now. She was still mostly certain that he was play acting, but the effect was powerful. Even in the cold water, she could feel the warmth of her own juices start to flow.





Summer Hire Ch. 04



Hesitantly at first, she swam over to the appointed rock. Rising out of the water, she turned and leaned across the smooth warm surface of the boulder, resting on her forearms as directed.

Erik came up from behind her. His hand traced the arch of her back from her shoulders to her bottom. Then he reached down and lifted her hips a little higher. His hand caressed the small of her back again, encouraging her into a deeper arch, leaving her buttocks feeling very high and exposed.

He intoned, "Very good of you to have assumed the position. You must keep that pose until I release you."

She heard the words, amazed that someone was commanding her in how to bend over a rock, even more amazed that she was so willing to obey. 

With his left hand resting lightly on her back, he brought his right hand down into a sharp smack on her bottom. She felt a flare of anger, expecting the slap to hurt, but instead a jolt of pure sexual energy shot through her. There was some stinging as well, but the raw burst of arousal that accompanied being spanked was something she had never experienced before.

He lightly ran the back of his right hand across where it had landed on her left buttock. As the backs of his fingernails drifted across her skin and then the blue nylon covering her bottom, she sucked in her breath, her sex clenching tightly.

Then he drew his hand away. After an interminable moment of waiting, smack! This hand landed on her right cheek. She gasped again at the jolt of arousal, followed by the tingling sting.

Then his left hand reached under the edge of her swimsuit pulled tight across her buttocks. He gathered the fabric together in his fist and gently pulled the gathered material up along the cleft between her buttocks, exposing the smooth skin of both cheeks. Before letting go, he tugged upwards, pulling her suit tight across the mound of her sex. She shuddered.

Without warning, he began spanking her again, this time not pausing between strikes. With each blow, she found herself ratcheting to a higher and higher level of sexual intensity. She held herself motionless, receiving every stroke with greedy anticipation, hoping desperately that he wouldn't stop until she orgasmed.

She climbed higher and higher, but the crest still didn't appear in sight. Her sense of time dilated and her rear seemed on fire, when she was suddenly wracked by a shuddering orgasm that went on and on. Finally, she slumped, breathless and dazed, across the smooth surface of the boulder.

Erik stood beside her, watching carefully, his hand resting softly on the small of her back. As her breathing slowed, she sighed and shifted into a more comfortable position, draped across the sun-dappled stone. He smiled, relieved that he had correctly gauged her and the moment. He'd been reasonably sure of what her reaction would be, but it had been risky to move so quickly. He chuckled to himself, knowing that taking risks and moving quickly were deeply imbedded in his psyche. One of these days, he was certain, he'd really screw up. But not today. "At least," he reminded himself, "not so far."

He watched her beautiful form splayed out on the warm boulder. He felt buoyed up by her response. It had taken her less than two minutes to orgasm. He knew he could have stretched it out, teasing her and bringing her arousal state even higher, but he had wanted to get her to an orgasm as quickly as possible. Hopefully, there would be plenty of time later to toy with her response, teasing and tormenting her into progressively higher levels of arousal.

For now, though, he only wanted to make sure that sure came back gently from her current floating state, so that he could help her through any delayed reactions. It seemed likely that this was new territory for her and he knew it could be rocky.

Melissa drifted along the edge of something that was not quite sleep. The warm hardness of the stone supported her from below, while the light touch of Erik's hand contained her from above. She was grateful for Erik's secure presence, because otherwise she felt as light as a leaf, ready to spin lazily downstream.

Gradually, she came back present. Lifting her head slightly, she asked, "What was that?"

He sat down on the boulder next to her, shifting his hand to gently stroke her outstretched arm. "At a guess, I'd say it was pretty wonderful."

She hummed her agreement.

After a final moment to collect herself, she rolled onto her side to look up at him and propped her head up on her arm. "So... what can I do for you?" She looked down suggestively, her eyes sweeping across his naked form.

He laughed gently and replied, "You can relax; enjoy the moment. I'm fine for now."

She felt simultaneously relieved and puzzled that he didn't expect some sexual favor in return. After a moment she realized that his refusal left her feeling awkwardly off-balance and even a little resentful, as though she owed him a debt. She asked, "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," he respond with a certainty that was at once gentle and absolute.

Looking at his face again, she saw his eyes intently focused on her. A self-conscious embarrassment began to grow within her. It suddenly seemed impossible that he had just spanked her. It was even more impossible that she had enjoyed it so much that she had one of the most intense orgasms she could remember.

He noticed her shift in mood and said, "That seemed like a different sort of experience for you."

She didn't answer right away, thinking about what he had said. His words were both a statement and a question. He was right, it had been completely different from anything she had experienced before.

Some past boyfriends had given her a spank or two, but it had never created the sort of reaction that Erik had stirred in her. Something about being commanded to submit had made the whole experience incredibly erotic, before he even touched her.

Trying for nonchalance, she replied, "Well I've been spanked a little in play before, but I never... I mean, well, it didn't do a whole lot for me, before..."

He nodded in understanding. "But now you seem a little embarrassed."

She still felt a off balance. His repeated habit of making a statement that was really a question left her feeling cornered and angry. "Yeah, what'd you expect? You just ordered me over here and then spanked the shit out of me. That's... you know... demeaning. Is that what you get off on?" In spite of her genuine flare of anger, she was startled to feel her sex clench wetly as she described how he had commanded her.

He repeated thoughtfully, "Demeaning." He nodded, "Sure, that could have been what happened." He paused again, then continued with a mischievous grin. "Well, if you hadn't liked it... certainly if you hadn't been a willing participant... and well, if you hadn't have come so damned hard. Yeah, sure, without all that, it certainly would've been demeaning."

She turned away in anger and embarrassment, staring down at the surface of the rock, tracing its striations with her fingertips.

He continued more seriously, with an apologetic tone, "Melissa, please understand; I honestly thought you would enjoy it. Being ordered to submit. Being spanked. I truly wouldn't have done it if I didn't think you'd like it. I wasn't trying to demean you."

He waited to see her reaction. Realizing that he wanted a response, she gave her shoulders a little shrug.

He continued, "Please believe me, for me, humiliating someone is just plain ugly. I don't like it. Yeah, sure, there's some people who really get a rush by demeaning and humiliating a partner. And I guess if their partner gets off on being humiliated, well that's what works for them. In my experience, though, what's going on most of the time is simply an abusive bully being an asshole."

He shook his head, "There are some folks who really do get off on being humiliated, but I've know a few and I've got to admit, they kind of creep me out."

Melissa looked back up at him puzzled, "You've really known somebody like that?"

He nodded, "Two or three, at least. It's amazing — the huge diversity of what turns people on. Our capacity for fantasy is astonishing. You know, like the whole spanking thing?" He looked at her questioningly, then continued rhetorically, "So why isn't it demeaning?"

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay. I'll bite." Turning the question back at him, she asked, "Why isn't that just plain fucked up?"

He laughed, encouraged by her feisty response. "I think what keeps it from being screwed up is that it comes out of our fantasies, what each of us secretly wants out of sex. And it has a lot to do with how two people's fantasies fit with each other. It's like, well, you see, sex is this very intimate dance. It's a sort of sharing that makes us feel very vulnerable. At least, it ought to make us feel vulnerable. I've always thought something's wrong when people don't let it."

She looked at him more closely, surprised at his sudden turn. She hadn't expected this sort of answer.

He noticed her questioning expression, so he continued, "It's, well, vulnerability is a big issue, but at the same time, I think we're innately selfish about sex. We want our partner to focus on our needs; we don't like working hard to take care of our partner's needs.

"So the way we balance our vulnerability and selfishness is through our fantasies. Our fantasies are these amazing stories we tell ourselves to help us feel safe, less vulnerable, while also getting our needs met. For instance, the spanking thing... and being ordered around. For a lot of women, and some men too, taking the lead in sex is a scary thing. It's a risk. They worry, 'maybe the other person won't like what I'm doing? What if I'm rejected?' That kind of fear makes their sense of being vulnerable shoot way up.

"One way to deal with that fear is to take on a submissive role — find a dominant who will control sex. A common submissive fantasy is being tied up and held helpless, while the dominant makes you come over and over again. If you think about it, in the fantasy the submissive partner doesn't have to take any risks. They're bound and helpless; they can't do anything about meeting the other person's needs. And the dominant is actually totally focused on meeting the submissive's needs. At least, that's what the fantasy is really about.

"Thinking about it that way flips what dominance and submission looks like from the outside. In the fantasy, if you're the submissive, then you're getting your needs met, without taking any risks."

Melissa looked dubious, "So... you're saying I'm a submissive?" As she considered the idea, she got angrier. "That's bullshit. I'm not some wimpy helpless girl!"

"True, absolutely true," he agreed reassuringly. "Your strength was one of the things that I found very attractive. Look, lots of submissives are strong, competent people. Loads of them are managers or bosses. When it comes to sex, though, they don't want to do all the work. They want somebody else to take charge, so they can relax and enjoy. Most female dominatrixes will tell you that their typical male client is a upper-level manager who's so tired of always being in charge that he really looks forward to being told what to do in sex. It's a vacation for him, recharges his batteries."

"That sounds pretty crazy."

"Lots of fantasies sound crazy, but they make sense. For instance, a common woman's fantasy is being raped..."

Melissa flinched at the word 'raped', feeling a sudden shot of fear for her situation, alone in the woods with a powerful man she really didn't know. Underlying that fear was an even deeper jolt of fear that he somehow knew her secret love of rape fantasies.

Erik continued, seemingly unaware of her sudden fear, "The reality is that nobody wants to get raped, not for real. True rape is a brutal act of violence. But the fantasy... well the fantasy is very different. You see, the fantasy is actually about not having a choice, about being held helpless and being forced to enjoy sex. In the fantasy, the woman never has to take the lead. The man always takes complete charge.

"In truth, the fantasy bears no resemblance to reality. Nor should it. The fantasy is a plaything. It's a way of enjoying sex, especially when sex could otherwise be intimidating and scary. Being a submissive is just another fantasy. I think it's sort of related to the rape fantasy. Enjoying submissive sex doesn't mean you want to live as somebody's degraded slave for real, no more than enjoying a rape fantasy ever means that you ever want to be raped for real."

He paused, giving her a chance to think through what he had said.

She asked, "So you think I'm a submissive..."

He nodded.

"And you're some sort of dominant..."

"Yep."

"And the..." She halted, trying to avoid saying what had just brought her to orgasm.

Erik suggest quietly, "Spanking?"

She looked away quickly and murmured, "Yeh."

He continued softly, "I think it's a couple of things. One is that being spanked is a very clear sign of submission, so it feeds into the submission fantasy and heightens your arousal." She grimaced a little, embarrassed because his words felt so completely on target. "The second is that for some people, in an aroused state, there is a cross-over between pain receptors and pleasure receptors.

"You see, everyone, when they're aroused, is less sensitive to pain. That's why we ignore that nasty couch seam digging into us when we're just about to orgasm and only realize afterwards that we've been scraped raw. For some folks though, when they're really aroused, just the right amount of what would otherwise be pain can turn into pleasure, and can even bring them to orgasm. As you saw."

Melissa coughed to cover an embarrassed laugh.

Erik continued, "It's a fine balance. Too much, too soon, and it's just pain. Yuck. No fun. Too little, too long, and it's just annoying. The arousal slips away. Also no fun. So a good dom has to pay attention to lots of little signals and dial it in just right. When the dom gets it perfectly, the sub can be carried off into a completely different place. It's like floating. People call it sub-space."

"Right, so you're some sort of professional dom? That means dominant, right?"

'No... I'm not a professional. And yeah, dom means dominant... sure, there are doms who are into it so much that they are 'professional'. Some even charge for it, especially women. They're called dominatrixes. So even though I'm a dom, I have different priorities from someone who's that hard core. It's not my whole life; it's only part of who I am, mostly just the sexual part."

Melissa looked at him doubtfully, "Not the business side too?"

Erik chuckled. "It's true that I'm pretty head-strong on the business side. But a lot of what I do in business is about the other side of a dominant's skill: I really listen to people, try to figure out at a very fundamental level what motivates them. Then I have to decide out how to rework the broken systems around them and get those people, who are capable of changing, to work together in new ways."

"What about the ones who don't want to change, or can't?"

"I get rid of them."

"Just like that? Thunk, off with their heads!"

"Yep, just like that. Look, when I'm brought in, the situation is generally way past desperate. If I don't make really tough decisions right away, everything's going down the tubes. Nobody's got a job then.

After a pause, he continued more soberly, "And that part of it isn't fun. Firing and laying off people is miserable, but it's usually the only shot I've got at saving something worthwhile. So I do it without mercy or hesitation. The longer the problem rots, the less chance there is of anything surviving to come out the other side."

She nodded thoughtfully. "I can imagine you doing that." She pointed to his chest, "There's a certain... ruthlessness in there, n'est-ce pas?"

He grinned, "Guilty. I'm a thorough-going asshole at times. But hey, sometimes, I'm just a big softy." She snorted in doubt. He laughed with her. "Truly, I can be." he protested playfully. Then he turned more serious, "But no matter what, when it't time to make the hard choices, I don't flinch. It constantly amazes me, how far some people will go to avoid difficult decisions. The wild thing is, at least for the companies that I get called into fix, that's how almost of them got in trouble in the first place."

"Anyway," he continued, "we're pretty far afield from figuring out whether or not you're a sub." He smiled down at her teasingly, "You're not trying to avoid anything, are you?"

"Maybe," she teased him.

He thought for a moment, then asked, "What's that word mean to you, 'submissive'?"

A thrill shot through Melissa. She fought hard to ignore, but her ass had clenched tight before she realized it. Erik nodded at her response, "Well besides that. I mean, beyond that immediate jolt of arousal. I have this feeling that there's also a bunch of negative images floating around in there too."

Melissa's heart was beating quickly. His ability to read her reactions left her feeling naked and a little trapped. She took a deep breath, putting her fear aside and concentrated on answering him. "Yeah. Sure, there's all sorts of stuff. I mean, like, submissive is all about some mousy, timid, lame-ass wife, whose husband probably beats her up." She paused, then continue more forcefully, "It's about being weak. Having some 'big strong man' make decisions for you. That's bullshit."

He nodded thoughtfully, "Yeah, and what if you enjoy it? What does that mean about you?"

She flinched, almost as she had been shocked by an electrical spark. She stepped back from her reaction, for a moment, looking puzzled. "Wow. That was some kind of gut check. I wonder what...? I mean, it was like this wave of shame... somebody saying what a bad person I am. That's gross!"

He asked, "Raised Catholic, evangelical?"

She laughed, "Recovering Catholic."

"Yep. That'll do it, every time. So, you like being a sub... but it's bad... which means you're bad. Something like that?"

"Something like that," she slowly agreed.

"Gets in the way, for sure." He commented quietly, mulling over the trap in which she found herself. Shifting focus a little, he continued, "As for the first part, I mean your mousy abused wife, you're right, that can certainly be the ugly reality of real-world dominance/submission. But the thing is, remember, we're not talking about the real world; we're talking about fantasies. The world of fantasy is an amazing head game that makes sexual arousal go vroom! The thing is, your abused wife image is kind of like comparing the horrible reality of rape with the typical rape fantasy. The reality and the fantasy have nothing in common.

He continued after a moment, "Trust me — I'm not looking for somebody who's a mousy little wall flower. I'd run over somebody like that. It'd be no fun for either of us. I need a strong partner. I can be pretty headstrong at times, and I need somebody who can stand up to me, draw boundaries, and tell me when I'm being an asshole. In order for a relationship to work for me, there has to be balance, an equality."

"Of course, part of the relationship, a pretty important part, is the sensual. That's where fantasies come into play. But 'play' is the operative word. Or at least, I think it ought to be. You know, fun, just plain fun. Joy, exploration, learning — that's what works for me. And I think it's hugely important for both people's fantasies to mesh, so that they meet each other's needs. If something's really out of sync with one person's sexual expectations for the other, it's hard to make the relationship work, even though everything else might be great."

She jumped in, "Sure, but on the other hand, the sex can be great, and it's everything else that sucks. That doesn't work either."




Summer Hire Ch. 04



He smiled in agreement, "Ah, I see you've been there too, and also gotten that t-shirt."

"A drawer full of them... um, not that I sleep around a lot," she added, a bit embarrassed. "But it sure is hard finding a guy where the sex is great and he's actually fun to be around. Seems like I have to pick one or the other."

"I've been there too. Fortunately, I got a much better sense of which way was up one summer during college."

She saw a wistful expression flit across his face, "Oh do tell..."

He laughed, "Another time, perhaps. For now, let's just say it was an older woman and a wonderful summer."

"Do you keep in touch?"

"Another time," he repeated more guardedly. Then, with a lighter tone, he added, "Meanwhile, I should get dressed and we should head back." He pushed off the rock, standing in the middle of the creek.

She sat up and let her gaze drift over his naked, lean, well-muscled body. "Sure there isn't something I could do for you?"

He smiled, "Well now that you mention it... I'm feeling positively abashed at the disparity in our clothing." As he spoke, his accent had drifted toward the cadences of Wuthering Heights and his smile slid into a wolfish grin. "And you, you tawdry vixen, you are shamelessly overdressed. Clearly, you must be scheming to gain cowardly advantage over me by retaining those, those..." He stabbed in the air, gesturing at her bathing suit, "...those ill-conceived coverings. You shall pay a penance, I tell you."

Melissa hid her growing smile by ducking her head demurely and protesting, "Oh my, whatever do you mean to do with me sir? I protest that I am purely innocent, nay even virginal." Her assumed accent owed more to Gone with the Wind than the Yorkshire moors of nineteenth century England, but even so, the moment proved powerfully effective for both of them. Melissa was surprised by the moist heat pulsing between her legs. She could see his growing erection as well. She dropped her gaze so she wouldn't be too obviously staring at his generously sized penis. Looking down at her lap, she was surprised to see a thin dark vertical line of wetness forming against the blue nylon of her bathing suit, where it was stretched tight across her shaved mound. She blushed, realizing how easily he could see her arousal.

His wolfish grin became even more masterful as he walked around behind her, tracing the tip of his finger up her arm and across the back of her neck. Leaning in close behind her, he whispered, "Whatever shall we do with you? She felt a shiver run up her spine as he swept her hair off her back and over her shoulder. He bent down, brushing small kisses along the back of her neck as he undid the fastening holding the top of her bathing suit closed.

He pulled the loose ends forward and down. The bathing suit peeled away from her skin, following his downward stroke. Her breath caught as the fabric hung, caught for a moment on her nipples, before springing away to expose their erect tautness. He continued to slide her suit down past her waist. As he reached her hips, she pushed her hands down against the warm stone, arching back and lifting her bottom so he could continue. "So much," she thought to herself, "for slowing things down by wearing a one-piece bathing suit." She knew she was much too excited to even consider saying no at this point.

He slipped her bathing suit past her feet and turned to face her, his gaze sweeping slowly up her naked form. Continuing in a somewhat subdued English accent, he said simply, "So there you are. Flaunting your outrageous beauty."

Stepping back, he considered her carefully. She looked up, meeting his eyes as he seemed to drink her in. She was afraid of being self-conscious under such intent inspection, but his expression was so clearly delighted that all she felt was a sense of powerful desirability, without the myriad of self-doubts she usually felt about her body when men looked at her. Being the object of his arousal was intoxicating.

She found that her entire body thrummed with her arousal. She had never felt so beautiful before.

He asked, "What indeed could you do for me? Something, I am sure... On your knees."

She looked at him, puzzled. He replied to her unspoken question, "Come on. On your knees." Sure now that he was serious, she complied, shifting to her knees. He reached out to reshape her form. As he moved her into position, he continued talking, "Sit back a little bit, keep your back straight. Not on your toes, tuck your feet underneath. That's right; now sit back on your heels. Don't let your feet splay out; keep a nice clean line. There you go.

He inspected her approvingly, then continued, "Now cross your arms behind you. Hold the opposite elbow in your hands. That's right. Remember, keep your back straight. That's a little too arched. There, that's it. And tuck your head down a bit.

"So, that's perfect. That is how a submissive waits for her master."

Her pulse quickened at his words. She still felt uncertain about being a submissive, but she could not deny the throbbing ache of her clitoris. She was sure that her juices must be running down her thigh at this point.

"Now, when you are on display, raise your head up. Yes, arch your back so. Don't look at me; look straight ahead. No one exists. There is only you, on display, for others to marvel at. They can walk around you, discuss your finer points with each other, but they do not exist. Only the fire of your own arousal, your certainty of your own perfectly unattainable desirability.

"And now you kneel to receive. Move your knees apart. A little further. Lift off from your heels a bit. Not too much, just enough to give access to any part of you I may desire — to touch, to tease, to play with." Reaching down, he slipped a forefinger deep inside her, curling forward to press against her G-spot.

She gasped. Groaning quietly, she closed her eyes to concentrate on the sensation that was quickly driving her over the top.

"No," he commanded. "Stare straight ahead. Remember, you are not allowed to come until I tell you that you can."

"Uhhh..." She protested urgently, shifting her hips against the insistent pressure that was driving her quickly over the top.

"Don't move!" Then he added pressure from his thumb, which captured her clitoris between his thumb pressing down over the hood of her clitoris and his forefinger pressing firmly against her G-spot.

"Oh God! Oh God! Please, I need to come!" She tried as hard as she could not to squirm.

In response, he slid his middle finger inside to join his forefinger, but he subtilely slowed the stroking of her G-spot to hold her just on the precipice, rather than forcing her over. Once his middle finger was slick with her juices, he eased it back out and used it to caress the tight puckered outside of her anus.

"Oh, oh, please! Oh, oh!" She was not sure whether she was begging him to penetrate her rear, or if she was asking him not to. Her body, however, had already decided. The stiff ring of muscle encircling her anus softened, opening against the pressure of his finger. He slid his finger all the way in, twisting it gently back and forth, while also increasing the firm stroking of her G-spot and clitoris. She responded with an inarticulate, "Aieee..."

He said quietly, "Now you may come," as she began bucking hard against his hand.

Her body arced in tension as the pulses of her orgasm swept through her. He reduced his pressure, but continued gentle stimulation, which extended her orgasm until she finally collapsed forward. He carefully extracted his hand and stepped back to admire her slowly twitching form as she sprawled face down across the flat top of the boulder. Slowly, he drew his hand along her naked form, tracing the curve of her back down across her buttocks. She moaned incoherently in response.

He shook his head, "Normally I'd let you recover a bit, but I so horny at this point that I'm just going to take you and use you. Unfortunately, I don't think I'm going to last very long." He shifted her legs until she was slumped over the boulder, with her legs in the cool water up to mid thigh. He could see her bare labia, glistening with her juices. Stepping in behind her, he pushed in his penis all the way into her in one smooth motion, completely filling her.

The sudden fullness roused her from her post-orgasmic confusion. Her eyes flew open as her muscles clamped down around him. "Uhhhh..." she quavered, as he began pumping in and out. He reached beneath her and slipped his fingers against her clitoris. She jerked in electrical shock, gasping as she suddenly and unexpectedly felt another onrushing orgasm. She didn't think it could be possible, so soon after her powerful orgasm just a few moments before. She wondered if she had ever had such a powerful orgasm before, but then coherent thought faded away, swept aside by the onrush of her growing orgasm.

Erik was slamming frenetically into her, his testicles slapping against her, as his urgent need to spend himself into her overtook everything else. He sensed her nearing orgasm, however, and managed to hold off just long enough for her orgasm to grip her in a thrashing seismic release. At that point, he drove as deeply into her as he could and let himself come, his hot semen pulsing into her.

They vibrated together until he was finally spent. Then he leaned forward, bracing his arm against the boulder to keep from collapsing on her. After a minute, he caught his breath and eased out of her. He stepped back and lowered himself into the deeper water to cool off. She continued to lay against the smooth stone, absorbing its warmth while slowly coming back to reality.

He smiled, turning to wade over to the bank of the creek where their clothes waited. Her bathing suit was still balled up in his hand. Stepping out of the water, he stuffed her bathing suit in his pack and began to get dressed.

While he was lacing up his hiking boots, Melissa finally levered herself up from the boulder. "Hey , you're already dressed. No fair!"

He laughed, "But I like you naked."

She smiled, happy to still not be feeling self-conscious at this point. She stood up and felt a rush of wetness running down the inside of her thigh. Without thinking, she reached down and wiped it off. Looking at her now wet hand, she realized that it was her own juices, mixed with his semen. She looked around for somewhere to wipe off her hand.

Erik laughed again, then told her "You're supposed to lick it off."

She made a face, "Eww. Yuck."

"You don't do it for the taste."

"Yeah," she agreed, "then why?"

"Because it makes me horny, and that's what a sex slave does."

"Say what?"

"What you've got in your hand, that's what men do making love. We're guys. We can't have orgasm after orgasm like you can. That little bit of semen, it's the only thing we've got to show for all our effort. And we're hopelessly proud of it. Our foolish male fantasy is that you crave it, that you want our semen and delight in it. That you want to consume it, savor it. And you don't want any of it to go to waste."

He shook his head, smiling ruefully, "I know it's insanely adolescent, but face it, we're guys; we aren't very deep. And the truth is that we're pitifully easy to manipulate. All you have to do is convince us that your only motivation is to be a receptacle for our cum. Whether it is in your vagina, your ass, or your mouth, you can drive us to outrageous heights of ego-inspired craziness when we think you can't get enough of us."

He laughed, continuing, "So that's why it's such a powerful fantasy for us to cum on a beautiful woman's face, and then have her lick it all up."

Melissa looked quizzical and slightly disgusted. She was not certain she entirely trusted what he was saying.

"Look," he said, "the facial cum shot is an absolute staple of porn movies, right?" She nodded slowly.

He continued, "It's like a dog peeing on a bush to mark it. It's saying, 'look, see, this is mine.'"

"So now you want to pee on me!"

"Well, not right this second..." He laughed, "No, the point is that a man's semen is what he uniquely brings to the party. Our cum is ours. And yeah, it's how we mark what is ours in a very primitive sense. It's our fantasy that women find it irresistible." She smirked and he nodded in agreement. "Right, so it's not the tastiest treat in the world, but when a woman spits it out, like she can't stand it, that's a real turn-off for a guy. We feel put-down. It's almost like a slap across the face, rejecting what we foolishly believe to be the pinnacle of our sexuality. On the other hand, when a woman treats our cum as though it was precious wine, well then, we are absolute putty in her hands. That's porn actress 101."

He laughed, continuing, "It's like I said, men are shallow. With us, you don't need to look for deeper explanations when the obvious is right there."

He gestured casual dismal, and said, "But okay, the magic has gone out of the moment, go ahead and just wash it off. But remember, to be a good sex slave, you have to crave cum, because you know that it drives your master up the wall, and that's what you live for."

"Ah, yeah, about that sex slave thing..." Melissa's tone made it clear that she wasn't entirely convinced about the merits of being a sex slave or submissive.

He laughed again, "We can talk about that later. Meanwhile, I'm getting hungry. Let's go back and I'll make something for lunch."

"Okay, I'm hungry too." Melissa started to wade naked across the stream, then she stopped and looked at her hand, realizing that it way still coated in his semen and her own juices. Then she looked him directly in the eyes, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. She raised her hand to her mouth and licked it clean, staring at him and grinning the whole time. By the time she finished, a clear outline of his erect penis was visible through the fabric of his jeans.

She nodded at his crotch, "I guess it really works, huh?"

He nodded, "Oh you are trouble — wonderful and delicious, but absolutely trouble."

She laughed, walking through the creek toward him. When she got to the edge of the stream, she looked up at him, "You got that right!"

They laughed together, as he reached down to help her step up onto the bank.

He gathered her in his arms, tilted her head up, and kissed her deeply. Their tongues searched out each other's mouths as she sighed and leaned into him. She felt her nipples tighten, along with a renewed heat and wetness below. As she enjoyed his lingering kiss, she wondered if she was always going to be wet around him.

Pressed up against him, she could feel his insistent erection against her. She slid her hip across it and was rewarded by him letting out a deep, "Hmmm". She could feel the rumbling vibration of his sigh through his chest.

They finally broke away from their kiss. She asked, a little embarrassed, "Do you like the taste of yourself?"

"I love tasting both you and me, mixed together in your mouth." He breathed deeply through his nose, "And I love smelling me on your breath. It's the perfect perfume."

"It's just that 'dog marking his territory' thing, isn't it?"

"Yep. And that work's for me. I aways want you smelling that way."

"Wow, sounds like I'm going to have to spend a lot of my time on my knees, sucking you off."

He chuckled agreement, and then reached down to unzip his fly. "Well then, you better get started." He eased out his swollen penis as she knelt in front of him. Before she could take him into her mouth, however, he stepped back to look at her critically. She looked up at him, puzzled. He said, "Where's your form? Point your feet. The tops of your feet should be on the ground, not your toes. Knees together, back straight, sit on your ankles." She complied and he nodded, "That's better. Now where do your arms go?" She quickly put her arms behind her back, each hand grasping the opposite elbow. "There you go. Now hold your mouth open and your head up. I should be able to walk up to you and just slip inside your mouth."

"Yeah, but that thing's pretty big. Be careful with it."

"You worried about gagging?"

"Well sure, with something that big."

"Thanks, I think. Meanwhile, when you're kneeling like that, you're supposed to ask permission to talk."

"Yeah, right." She looked at his steady expression for a moment. "You're kidding, right?"

"Nope, but we'll get to that later too. For now, back straight. Mouth open."

Without further comment, she assumed the posture that he had directed. He continued to stare at her, making her feel vulnerable and exposed. She wasn't sure she liked the feeling, although the insistent throbbing between her legs told her that at least some part of her liked it. Based on the clenching feeling in her buttocks, she suspected that she liked it a lot.

As promised, he stepped up to her and slid his penis into her waiting mouth. He did indeed fill her mouth, but he was careful not to hit the back of her throat. She was unsure what she was supposed to do. Her mouth was dry from being open and now full from his penis. She moved her tongue over his shaft, trying to moisten everything.

He encouraged her, "Yes, that"s right. You can take the initiative in things like that. I don't want you just passive. In fact, you're supposed to be as inventive as you want and take risks. Being a good sub is a dance." He started to move in and out of her mouth. "A lot depends on the dom too. Some want total control, but I think that's a fool's errand. Of course, I'm sure they think I'm just lazy."

She had gotten his whole penis wet, at least the part that fit in her mouth. Now she was concentrating on sliding her tongue across the head as he slid it in and out. She also tightened her lips against his shaft as it moved, trying to squeeze against him. It felt strange not to be able to use her hands.

He grinned down at her. "Very good." Then he stopped pushing in and out, commanding her, "Now suck on it. Suck as hard as you can. Try to suck the cum right out of my balls."

She complied, creating as much suction as she could, although her tongue was rapidly getting tired.

He said, "Okay, now relax. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue."

His command seemed odd to her, but she was glad to rest her mouth. Sucking so hard on him had brought her tongue to the edge of cramping. She would have felt ridiculous if she had to stop because of a cramped tongue muscle. That would have probably ruined the mood, and she decided the mood was very... interesting. She was learning more about herself in a quick period of time than she would have thought possible. Her head felt as though it was spinning from so many torn up assumptions and new ideas.

Erik took his penis in his hand and began slapping his penis down on her tongue. It made a wet "thwap" every time it hit. The impact was gentle enough that it wasn't uncomfortable for her, but it was clearly exciting to him. She was surprised to discover that his reaction made her excited too. There was something about being commanded and used by him that made her feel aroused. In the past, when a guy wasn't paying attention to her and was only focused on his pleasure, she had always hated it. But this was different. Erik was very focused on her. She was the instrument of his pleasure. Even his arousal seemed to key off her own arousal from submitting. He made her feel valued and sexy, instead of objectified or taken for granted.

Erik slowed down and groaned in pleasure. "Okay, now I'm going to go deeper, but I'll take it slow. Take a full breath." He waited for her, and then carefully slid in until the head of his penis rested at the back of her mouth, just short of her gag reflex. "Now just relax and hold it there. When it feels okay, take it in just a little bit more."




Summer Hire Ch. 04



After a moment, she was able to take him further in without gaging. He smiled and said, "That's great. Just hold it therefor another second and try taking it a tiny bit more." She was glad to realize that she could accommodate him even further back, although her gag reflex was still close.

Then he pulled back out a little. "Now you can breathe. You see, the trick is to desensitize a bit at a time." He pushed deeper again, and she thought it was a little easier to take him in. He instructed her, "Now take your right hand and masturbate yourself. The endorphins will make it easier to ignore the fullness, you know, just like how you don't notice that crease in the couch until after you come."

She hesitated a little, embarrassed to use her hand on herself in front of him. He frowned down at her. "Don't tell me that you don't play with yourself. I know better." Then he commanded, "Do it. Now." At the same time, he pushed further back in her throat and she jerked a little. That propelled her into motion and she rubbed diligently at her swollen lips with her fingers. As her fingers got wet, she felt the soothing comfort of running her hand over herself. He was right. She did enjoy playing with herself. She brought her fingers up and around her clitoris in the swirling motion she loved.

As she relaxed and got more involved in easing herself closer to an orgasm, Erik continued slowly sliding in and out. He told her, "Pretend like you're yawning. That'll help." Every time, he went a bit deeper and it seemed easier each time to let him. Melissa stopped paying attention to his penis filling her mouth and was concentrating so hard on her own nearing orgasm that she didn't realize how deeply she was actually taking him into her mouth and down her throat. It was only when he started panting with the nearness of his own orgasm that she was amazed to realize how far into her he was indeed penetrating. By then, however, her own impending orgasm had taken on such an urgency that she didn't care. She willingly opened her throat even wider so he could ram in deeper. 

Just as she shuddered into the crest of her orgasm, she heard him gasp and felt the hot rush of his semen shoot down her throat. He pulled back out as she slumped down, spent. He stepped back. He was a little stiff legged from the residual tension of his climax. A large drop of cum seeped out of his penis and gathered on the tip. As it started to drip away, Melissa darted forward and licked it off. Erik's eyes shot open wide at the sudden intensity of her tongue licking his overly-sensitive head clean.

He said, "Oh you naughty girl! There will be repercussions for that."

"Promises, promises," she responded.

They both laughed. He reached down to help her stand and she leapt up with a hop. Erik's eyes were drawn to how her breasts moved in a quick bounce as she landed on her feet.

Melissa saw him watching. He clearly liked how firm and full her breasts were. She knew that her bosom had been even higher and tighter in high school, and that as the years went on, gravity would be the inevitable winner, but it felt ego-boosting to see his attraction. She decided that even though she hadn't liked gaining five pounds or so over the school year, at least some of it had helped swell her breast size a little.

Standing in the dappled sunshine, she let herself appreciate the clear joy Erik seemed to have in looking at her. He made her feel beautiful and she liked showing off for him.

She hoped she felt something deeper in his attraction. She let herself believe, for a moment, that he might still feel this way in looking at her in twenty years, even after gravity had won its inevitable victory. Then she quickly squelched that fantasy. "The present," she told herself, "enjoy what's here, now."

Erik watched the contentment and hope flit through her expression. His mouth edged into a smile as he reached around and swatted her gently on the buttock. "Time to get dressed, oh Goddess of the Stream. I'm getting hungry."

Melissa was once again shocked at how his light swat on her butt cheek seemed to instantly propel her desire into a higher state. She couldn't entirely repress a little shudder that rippled through her body. A small gasp escaped her lips. He seemed thoughtful, watching her response. Then he looked around and spotted a small tree along the stream bank.

He turned back to Melissa, "Well, I did promise..." He reached down to his unbuckled belt and slowly drew it out from his belt loops. It was made from braided black leather. Doubling it over, he took her hand and escorted her over to the tree, stopping under the lowest branch. He swung the buckle end of his belt over the branch. Threading the other end through the buckle, he cinched it tight around the branch. A couple of feet of braided leather now hung down from the tree.

He raised Melissa's arms above her head, pulling her up to tiptoe, and wound the end of the belt around her wrists. Then he tied a firm knot, holding her in place. Looking up, she inspect her binding. He bent over to kissed her upturned lips, as he gently traced his fingertips down her side. She shuddered again, her nipples taut and her sex vibrating in a quiver of aching anticipation.

Stepping back, he said softly, "Repercussions indeed. Perhaps I should simply leave you like this for awhile. Your pose is... quite fetching."

He reached down to tuck himself back into his jeans and zip up. "Best put that away before looking at you all tied up makes me hard again."

He stepped past her and walked away, calling out, "Stay exactly like that, no twisting or fidgeting."

She obediently turned back to face the trunk of the tree and let herself hang there, watching the stream flow past. She wondered if he meant it when he said he might leave her like this for awhile. She tested her bonds. They were tight. While comfortable enough for the moment, she was worried if the leather would cut off her circulation. Her shoulders also felt strained, pulled tight above her.

She tried to relax, and shifted to support as much of her weight as she could on tip toe. Listening for him, all she heard was the creek burbling past and the birds occasionally calling out to each other. A light midday breeze flitted along her bare skin. 

Vaguely at first, then more definitely, she heard his returning footsteps. Fear battled with arousal as she wondered at what she had gotten herself into this time. He stepped in front of her. Somehow seeing his face was a relief. He reached up to check her binding, asking. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, unsure of what to say.

He continued gently, "If you really are okay, we can step it up. We can take it slowly and see what your reaction is. I think... I'm pretty sure that you're going to enjoy this, at least in a deeper way than might be immediately obvious. In any case, if you're willing to trust me, I want you to remember two things. Saying 'yellow' means, 'I'm not sure I like this — slow down.' Saying 'red' means 'stop right this instant!' Have you got that?"

She nodded, still a little scared and unsure.

He reassured her, "Remember, this is a game, a dance. Ultimately though, you are in complete charge of you. My job is to do the best I can to make sure that nothing happens that you can't handle or don't want. But you always have the final say so. Okay?"

She nodded again, a little more sure this time.

He smiled reassuringly one last time, then drew himself up to his full height, somehow more imposing and in character, while a quick wink simultaneously let her know that it was indeed a game. "So we spoke of repercussions, little one. Promises, even." He drew his left hand from behind his back, revealing a thin straight sapling, cut about three feet long. It had been stripped of leaves. He took it in his right hand and swung it several times experimentally through the air. It made a buzzing sound as it cut through the air.

Next, he softly traced the outline of her torso with the sapling, letting the springy wood drift slowly along her bare skin.

Fear fought with arousal as she looked down at the sapling slipping across her. She wasn't at all sure this was a good idea, even though the intensity of her sexual ache was reaching new heights. Her whole body clenched in throbbing anticipation. Faced with such desperate need, she didn't know how she could say no. She reassured herself that if it really was terrible, she could say 'red' at any point.

Erik stepped around behind her and she arched her back, clenching even tighter. The wait for the first stroke seemed interminable, then suddenly she felt the "thwack" of the sapling against her buttocks. A fiery red impulse ran up her spine, exploding in a rush of sexual intensity across brain. She gasped. The line where the sapling had contacted her buttock burned, seeming to radiate through to the other side of her body where her clitoris now begged for relief.

A second stroke joined the first and she jerked. Lost in the rush of feeling swirling within her., she slumped down, hanging on her bindings, unable to maintain enough focus to balance on the balls of her feet.

At the third stroke, she felt her sex coiling around the beginnings of an orgasm. Another and another fell upon her as her onrushing orgasm screamed up from the depths. All she could think was, "please don't stop now!" Then she crested over, thrashing back and forth, held suspended by the woven leather belt.

He stopped. She swung gently back and forth on her bindings, feeling as though she was drifting in the air. Small aftershocks reverberated through her body with little jerks and tics. Slowly, she reconnected with the world, feeling the soreness of her buttocks, how the strain of being suspended pulled on her shoulders, even the texture of dirt underneath her toes.

Erik stepped in next to her. Wrapping one arm around her, he lifted her a little into the air. With his other hand, he reached up and undid the leather holding her suspended. Her arms fell down around him in a hug. She quietly said, "Wow."

He nodded agreement. "Indeed. That seemed quite... powerful."

"Yeah, that's for sure."

"Now be careful. Remember your reaction before. At some point, all that Catholic shame stuff may come knocking on your door. You don't have to let it in. It's not yours. That shame nonsense... it belongs to somebody else, not you."

He continued, "You, Melissa Conlin, are a beautiful woman, with every right to take her pleasure anyway she wants."

"Damn straight," she murmured into his shoulder.

They stayed in a warm embrace for awhile longer, until Melissa arched her back into him, trying to relieve the stiffness in her muscles from being suspended. He pulled his hands firmly up her back, along either side of her spine, and she felt at least two pops as the tension relaxed out of her muscles.

He asked, "That better?"

"Yeah, but what about my butt? If I can't wear a bathing suit at the pool, I'm going to be pissed. I don't want people thinking... well, you know."

"Don't worry. You've got the cutest little red stripes across that delicious ass, but they'll be gone in a couple of hours. There shouldn't be any bruises. I was careful."

She reached down to feel her bottom, surprised it didn't hurt more as she ran her hand across where the sapling had struck her. "Wow, that was just plain weird. Who'd have figured?"

He nodded in agreement, "It's continues to amaze to me how different and... unusual sexual arousal can be. What gets one person off can be a complete turn-off for somebody else. We are very complicated creatures, in amazingly unique ways. The trick is finding someone else who fits."

He paused, then said quietly, "I am very glad I found you."

She was suddenly breathless and overwhelmed, "Uh, yeah..."

He laughed, breaking the tension. "Come on, let's get you dressed; then head back for lunch." He reached up to undo his belt from the branch, while she stepped back, still a little unsure.

He reached out to take her hand. "The intensity takes a little while to unwind. Don't worry about anything too much right now. Things will feel a bit more solid in a few minutes." They walked together back to where her clothes were.

She said, "I'm okay. You're right though, kind of intense. And uh, yeah, I'm glad we found each other too." He took her into his arms and they kissed.

"Yeah," he whispered, "but you've still got to get dressed. Lunch is calling."

"Okay, okay. Wow, you get cranky when you're hungry." She looked around. "Now where is my bathing suit?"

"In my day pack. It's wet; you don't want to put it back on."

"That's what you say."

"I'll show you. Put on your shirt."

She looked at him puzzled for a moment, then picked up her shirt and slipped it on. She reached to button up the front, but stopped when he wagged his finger at her.

He reached around either side of her, gathered up the hem of her shirt, and started rolling it upwards. When he reached just below her breasts, he brought the two ends together and tied them across her front. "See, just enough support."

She bounced on the balls of her feet to jiggle her breasts and found that the way he had tied her shirt did indeed provide some support. She quirked a smile at him, "Okay, that works, I guess. What are you now, my fashion consultant?"

"Something like that. If I'm not going to allow you to wear underwear, I've got to do something to help out."

"No underwear, huh?"

"That's right. Strictly forbidden. And Melissa, I mean 'strictly'."

She said, "Yes master" and ducked her head in jest.

"So she is capable of learning. Go on, get on your pants and shoes."

"Oh, oh, I'm allowed to wear pants? Whatever shall I do to show my gratitude master?"

"You best hurry and get them on before I reconsider. It'd be fun to make you walk in front of me naked, so I could admire those beautiful stripes I put across your ass."

She turned away from him and very deliberately bent over at the waist to pick up her pants, prominently displaying her rear. While still bent over, she looked back up at him and asked, "You mean those stripes?"

He sighed. "You are incorrigible." Then he bent down on one knee and ran his tongue between her exposed labia, licking upwards until his tongue was probing her tight anus. He slid a forefinger in between her drenched labia and bore down, trapping her G-spot and clitoris between his finger and thumb.

She gasped as her need blasted through her. He slowly massaged her G-spot as the tight ring of muscle surrounding her anus relaxed enough that his tongue was able to penetrate. Her head was swimming. The beginnings of yet another orgasm gripped her.

Then suddenly, he stood up and said in a board-sounding voice, "Well, are you going to put those pants on or what?"

"But... ," she said slowly straightening up.

"That's right. You get to walk home frustrated and horny as hell. That'll learn you."

"You sir, you are a cruel and heartless man."

He snorted, "Glad you finally noticed."

"Okay, I give. I'll get dressed. Man you really get nasty when you're hungry. I meant, what does a girl have to do to cum around here?"

"God you're a greedy little vixen."

She smiled in agreement as she slipped on her jeans. Erik reached down to gather up her socks and sneakers. He handed the socks to her as she sat down to put them on. She saw him looking carefully at her sneakers and gave him a questioning glance. He shrugged and banged them out against his hand. "Got to make sure no bugs crawled up inside."

He handed her the sneakers. Once she got them on and grabbed her purse/mini-backpack, they set off together. Before slinging her mini-backpack across her shoulder, she dug out her phone to check messages. Seeing an e-mail from Professor Gavin, she stopped for a moment. Erik waited for her.

As Melissa scanned the e-mail, her face dropped. "Oh shit, oh shit! I can't believe it!"

"Is something wrong?"

"Goddamn it! What the fuck am I supposed to do for the summer now?"

Erik stood quietly, watching her sudden anger and despair, waiting to see if there would be a further explanation, which she soon supplied, "Gavin says the university cut their summer budget. She doesn't have enough money to send first year grad students out on a dig. I mean, we had plane tickets and everything. It's not like they were paying us much anyway. Oh crap. Like I'm going to find any kind of decent summer job at this point."

Erik stayed quiet and thoughtful, while she read through the e-mail again. When she finished, tears had started down her cheeks. He reached out and gently put his hand on her shoulder, "I'm sorry." He nodded down the trail, "Come on. Let's get back. We can walk and talk. I suspect there's some options."

She nodded and started walking alongside him. "It was just Arizona. A Native American site. Not really my area of interest at all. I mean, it's not like I was going to the Middle East or Greece or something. But it was a real dig. And some money. My fellowship isn't enough to cover everything... stupid goddamned crap."

"Is that what you're interested in, Greece, Middle East, Classical Archeology?"

"Yeah, Raiders of the Lost Ark stuff, silly I know, but it's really cool. So much of who we are, our culture, was shaped in that place and time. I mean, I like all of archeology. That's one of the reasons I wound up here, because the department isn't divided up between Classical and Non-Classical Archeology, like it is at most universities. But goddamn it! How could Gavin screw us like this?"

"How much money was it supposed to be?"

"Only about three thousand, but they were going to cover housing, food, transport, all that stuff."

They walked on in silence for awhile. Erik cleared his throat. Melissa looked up at him, realizing that he probably wanted to say something and was waiting for her to stop being completely absorbed in the disaster that had befallen her. She asked, "Yeah?" 

"I have an idea. It's a summer job you might be interested in. The sign-on bonus is three thousand. No strings. You can walk at any point and still keep the money. The pay is fifteen hundred a week. Housing, food, and transport comes with it as well. It's pretty full-time. In fact, you'd only have off one full day a week and every other weekend."

"Okay... what is it? I mean, do I have to kill somebody or something?"

"The job is simple. It's being my sex slave."

She stopped and stared at him. "You're not joking, are you?"

"Nope. I'm serious."

Her face got red and she sputtered, "I don't know whether to hit you, or walk away, or what... that's really fucked up!"

He nodded, "It's been a kind of interesting day that way, huh? Loads of unexpected things. Look, I'm not making you this job offer to insult you. But I don't want to sugar coat it either. Please, give yourself some time and space to consider it. A lot has happened here today. It feels like good stuff, at least to me. It feels like the beginnings of a real connection. I hope it could go somewhere, and this job would be a... structure for making that possible. I hadn't realized that you were planning to go off to Arizona for the summer. I'm really sorry the job got taken away, but I'm glad that you'll be around."

He waited, but she didn't say anything, so he added, "Remember, you can quit at any time, even a minute after saying yes. I won't hold it against you. I promise that the sign-on bonus is yours, no matter what."

She said nothing. She stared at him for awhile longer and then turned to look away.

"Come on," he said, "I'll walk you back. You can call or text me later today or over the weekend. Just make up your mind by 7am Monday morning. That's starting time."

"That sounds romantic as all hell."

"Yeah, I agree; that was pretty awkward, wasn't it?" He gestured down the trail, and they started walking together again.




Summer Hire Ch. 04



As they walked, Melissa couldn't figure out why she hadn't already screamed "No!" at him. She was certain that she would never agree to be somebody's sex slave. Even though it might be a favorite fantasy of hers, she was sure it would be miserable in real life. She didn't know why she was hesitating to turn him down. She wondered if she wanted the promised bonus money. She thought about it, but couldn't see herself taking the money and then quitting. That seemed too slimy.

While she walked, she absentmindedly rubbed her bottom with one hand. As soon as she realized what she was doing, she stopped. She wondered if the red stripes really would fade away in a few hours. She hoped that the memory of this day would quickly fade as well. Perhaps it was all just a horrible dream.



Summer Hire Ch. 05



Decision

"So we didn't say anything more. We got back to his house, and I didn't really say goodbye or anything. I just kept on walking up to where I'd left my car and drove away." Melissa looked up from her unfinished bottle of beer, which had grown warm while she told Malcolm about her day with Erik. Shame and sadness tempered her voice. She did feel a little lighter, now that she had finished. It had been a relief to tell someone.

Malcolm had sat quietly throughout, listening thoughtfully. Occasionally he had laughed with her, when she remembered something funny, but otherwise he had been uncharacteristically silent. In the past, whenever she had told him of her latest story about a date gone bad, he would playfully tease her about her missteps, while constantly making snarky comments about the man she'd been with and how awful he had been.

Instead, his brown eyes were gentle and he seemed puzzled. He asked, "So you didn't tell him 'no'?'

"No I didn't. I was a wimp. I don't know. I should have screamed it at him, but... I don't know why."

"Babycakes," he said more urgently, "you'd better pick up that phone. Or text him if you're too much of a wimp to call."

She nodded, "You're right."

"And you tell him 'yes'. You beg him to take you back."

"Okay, okay," she said, picking up her phone, "I'll tell him... What? What did you say?"

"Sweetie pie, this one's a keeper."

"But, but... he beat me!"

"Yeah, and you came again and again, like a cat in heat, making way too much noise and begging for more."

"I didn't make a lot of noise... At least I don't think I was loud... anyway, that's not the point."

"So what is the point?"

"Well... the point is that he was mean to me. And besides, sex slave? Like I can put that on a resume?"

"Girl, the only way he was mean to you is he didn't make you come a whole bunch more times, and that's only cause you ran off, going 'wee, wee, wee" like the little piggy running away from the big, bad wolf.

He laughed and continued, "And your resume? You're all worried about your resume? I got news for you girl, all us first year grad students, we're screwed this summer. So you might as well get paid for it. And paid pretty damn good."

"But..."

Malcolm held up a finger, "Sweetie pie, hold up for a second." Melissa paused mid-breathe, then slumped back in her chair after a moment, waving at him to continue.

He spoke, counting off his points, "First, he's cute. Second, he's way too rich. Third, honey child, he's got your number. He played you dead to rights. He knows more about what makes you go boom than you do. Fourth, he's cute — naw, done that — fourth, he calls his housekeeper Mrs. Grady. I mean, what kind of self-respecting evil villain calls his housekeeper Mrs. Anything? So, as far as I'm concerned, he fails the evil villain test right there. And fifth, wow fifth, that bit about his uncle. I was in tears listening to that poor man's story. I just wanted to get down on my knees, suck him off, and make him feel all better."

"Who, Erik?"

"No, silly. His uncle. Course, if Erik swings both ways, he can have me anytime he wants."

"Malcolm, you are... I don't know. Disgusting? Twisted?"

"Damn straight. Well, maybe not so 'straight', but you make sure to tell Erik he can slide that big dick of his into me anytime he wants, anywhere he wants. I'll know how to take care of him, even if someone else is too much of a fraidy-cat to try."

"I'm not a fraidy-cat."

"Meoww," he responded.

"Well, maybe a little, but 'sex slave'? I mean, really?"

Malcolm looked at her more seriously and asked, "Are you scared you'll like it?"

She sat up straight, angry, ready to scream at him, then hesitated. Slumping back down, and looked at the floor. "Oh wow. Shit!" She paused, slowly parsing through her feelings, "That kind of went 'clunk' somewhere inside, you know, like something got shoved into place and then everything lined up."

"I was wondering. I mean, when he was talking about all that sexual fantasy stuff, which sounded like a pretty cool take on the whole thing, by the way — anyway, you said that he talked about rape fantasies. You sort of skated around it, but I got the sense that you might have indulged in those once or twice. Yes Kimo Sabe?"

Melissa blushed and looked away. "Ah, it's, well kind of... yeah."

"And maybe even being a sex slave?"

She took a deep breath, exhaled, and whispered, "Yeah."

"All this year that I've known you, you've been attracted to bad boys like flies to... well, whatever. Anyway, maybe it's somebody like Erik you're really wanting, not one of those bad boy twerps. I mean, they all turned out to be self-absorbed little boys. Erik, on the other hand, he's this grown-up, Mr. Dominant Man. Problem is, now that you've found him, you're running for the hills."

"I kind of got weirded out by the whole 'sex slave' thing."

"And yeah, if it does get all weird, you can bail anytime you want."

"What if he chains me up in his basement?"

"So, you call me everyday. If I don't hear from you, I'll sic the cops on him."

"Yeah, and they'll find my mutilated corpse."

"That really what you're worried about?"

"Uh, no. It's, well, it's kind of scary to go explore my dark side. What if I don't like what I find."

"Now you're being a drama queen. I don't know — you sound like some good little girl in catechism class calling her horny little secrets her 'dark side'. I can just hear her, 'Oh my, all these dark thoughts? I must need an exorcism. Oh, that sounds like fun! I'll be all tied down, some hunky priest standing over me...'"

Melissa took the pillow she had been leaning against and threw it at him. It bounced off and they both laughed. Then each grew quieter and more somber.

"So girl, what are you going to do? Really?"

"I guess maybe I'll give it a try. You're right, I can walk away. And if he brainwashes me or something, you'll come rescue me, right?"

"Honey child, you can count on this little sissy boy to round up some gang bangers from back in the hood and we'll come gunning for you."

"You grew up in the burbs, not the hood."

He looked around cautiously and put his finger across his lips. "Shush. You ruin my reputation."

She laughed, "But you're my hero."

"Oh now you're just getting gross."

"Talking about gross, what's with guys wanting to come in your mouth? Is Erik right about it being like a dog pissing on something? That's kind of disgusting. And while we're at it, why does every guy want to stick his dick in my ass? And talking about asses, what was that with Erik putting his tongue in me? Is he going to want me to do that to him? I mean, definite eww, yuck, gross-out."

"Oh you innocent little puppy. Okay, in order, from the beginning, having a guy cum in your mouth or on your face. Well, Erik's ideas on that one are sort of interesting. I don't know; it sounds like he thinks about sex way too much. Anyway though, he's come up with some cool ideas. And yeah, he's probably onto something about it being about marking or claiming ownership.

"Let's put it this way," he continued, "every guy I've ever known has wanted to cum on my face or in my mouth. And I sure as hell love the feeling of doing it right back. In my world, honey girl, you better act like getting a face full is the biggest gift, ever. I mean, if you're with a guy who just goes through the motions of letting you cum on him — total turn-off! What a waste of perfectly good cum!"

Melissa made a face at him. He nodded and continued, "I know, cum can be nasty tasting stuff. And the texture isn't the best either. I mean think about it. It's this sticky fluid that a guy's body knows how to makes."

"Oh thanks Malcolm, that makes it ever so much more attractive... not!"

"Melissa, darling, you're missing the point. I mean, if you think about it that way, of course it's gross. But that's not how to think about it. The point is that you've got this lovely, hunky man that wants to share his orgasm with you. He's just so proud and preening about it. And you better be all psyched about being so sexy that you've driven him to that point. It's like a huge win for you too. So when that hot cum hits you, it's party time! Yeah, hooray! Happy days. You're supposed to treasure it, play with his cum, lick it all up."

"Eww!"

"I see you're going to need some work on this one."

"Yeah. Is it... is it really that important?"

"Look, if it's not happening for you, then it's not. And maybe you can fake it enough to keep whoever happy, or maybe you say 'no way'. Me, I think the key is getting to the place where you really do like it; where it is fun; where you like teasing the boy by playing with his cum and licking it all up. Cause trust me, it really is a huge turn-on for guys. But if you're faking it, I don't know... I mean, some people just can't get past the gag factor. The taste just totally makes them want to puke. Then it's not worth it, cause, I mean, it's got to be good for both of you. In my lifetime of depravity, if I got to fake it, it ain't worth it, unless the guy's really, really cute."

"Okay, okay, I mean, I guess I can try. It's not like eating out pussy could be the most awesome thing going."

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders, "Never been there. But I know lots of lesbos who say they love it. Probably the same deal; if making the other person go wild is enough fun for you, than you don't mind the other stuff."

"Okay... so what is it about guys always wanting to stick their dicks in somebody's ass?"

"Hey, don't go insulting one of my favorite pastimes. I love plugging someone's hole. Plus, I love having some big boy back there slipping his meat in me. And oh wow, when I can do a congo line — you know, where I can be banging away on one guy and have another guy doing me at the same time. Oh that can be heaven."

"Malcolm, you know that thin little line between just enough information and way too fucking goddamn much information?"

"No," he answered with as much innocence as he could muster. "Besides, you asked."

"Anyway," he continued, "why heteros like it, I don't know. It's got to feel as good for him as it does for me, and that's plenty wonderful. I mean, if a guy really knows how to play you with his sphincter muscle..."

Melissa held up her hand to stop him, "Again! Way more information than I need."

"Okay, little Miss Prissy. But you did ask."

"Oh, and one last bit," he added. "Again, I'm not sure about heteros, but there's something about the naughtiness of it. You know, it's like, 'this person is so turned on by me that they're letting me put my dick in his ass', I mean, 'her ass'." He paused a minute, thinking about this perspective. "Okay, that's just too weird. Anyway, you got that whole forbidden fruit thing going on. Major turn-on, feels good, what's not to like about it?"

"Okay, so... I hesitate to ask, but that tongue in the ass thing?"

"Oh mama, one of my absolute favorites. Having someone tongue me, it's just yummy. I mean, didn't you like it? How could you not?"

"Well yeah, it was kind of a turn-on, I mean, at the time. But... gross! What if he wants it?"

"Then honey, you just pull those cute little cheeks of his open and diddle him good."

"But..."

"Hey, I didn't say he shouldn't be clean. The best deal is fresh shaved, flushed out, and showered. You know, shit doesn't taste great. There's no reason for putting up with somebody whose always messy down there. I don't care how cute he is." Malcolm paused, a wistful look on his face as he seemed to remember someone in particular.

Melissa waited a bit and finally said, "Earth to Malcolm."

"Oh well... he was very cute. Just a little clueless, that's all. Anyway, is there anything else you wanted to ask Uncle Malcolm?"

"No..."

"Then don't you have a phone call to make?"

"Huh?"

"Erik? Sex slave? You desperately want to have his baby."

"Let's not go there yet."

"'Yet?' Oh that's sounds promising. Anyway, missy, I'm not seeing you dialing."

"Ha! I'll send him a text."

"Wimp."

"Yep, absolutely," she agreed. She pulled out her phone, got to the right screen, and typed in, 'yes'." Then she stared at the screen for a long moment. With a deep breath, she hit 'SEND'.

"There," she said, "It's done."

"Good. Hey, remember, 'twere be done, twere best be done quickly'.".

"'Yeah, isn't the next line, "Screw your courage to the sticking point' or something?"

"Hey, worked for Macbeth," he replied with mock seriousness.

"Until MacDuff killed him in the end."

"Hey, embrace your dark side, kiddo. Why settle for lowly Thane of Cawdor when you can be King of Scotland, least for awhile. Besides, it's just a summer job, right."

"Yeah," she said, suddenly feeling a little sad, "It's just a summer job."



Summer Hire Ch. 06



The late afternoon sun slanted down into the courtyard. She stopped her car and looked around. The scene looked familiar from her first visit, but, at the same time, felt foreign and scary.

After texting back and forth, they had agreed she would come on Sunday evening, so she could settle in before 'work' began the next morning. She unfastened her seatbelt, turning to look at her suitcase laying on the back seat. He had assured her that she wouldn't need to pack much, which made her wonder if she was supposed to go around naked all the time. The possibility troubled her, but she had decided she would cross that bridge, when and if she got to it.

The screen door to the main house banged closed and she quickly looked up to see Erik ambling across the courtyard. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then opened her door and stepped out. He came up to her, showing the same casual confidence he always seemed to have. She was nervous, but his smile seemed genuine and that helped ease the knots in her stomach. He called out warmly, "Welcome back. I'm really glad you decided to try this out."

She smiled hesitantly in return. He came closer and lightly took both her hands in his. Then he leaned forward and softly kissed her on the cheek. Stepping back, he pointed to the large wooden doors set into the stone retaining wall that ran along one side of the courtyard. The slope of the hill rose up behind the retaining wall. Green tendrils of some flowering plants spilled over the lip of the wall. "That's the garage. I'll open the doors so you can pull in."

He walked over to the wall and punched a code into a keypad next to the wooden section. The doors opened inwards. Inside, she could see lights flickering on in the darkness. As the space lit up, the inside of the garage looked much larger than she had first thought. The whole thing was hidden away under the sloping hill that rose up behind the courtyard.

He waved at her, "Come on. Pull your car in." She waved back to him and got back into her car. Yanking the door shut, she stepped on the clutch and started up her car, ignoring the "beep, beep" of the seat belt warning. Driving carefully forward, she followed him as he walked through the doors. The space inside looked as big as a basketball court, although not as tall. The floor was painted grey, contrasting crisply with the white walls and ceiling.

He motioned her to an empty spot, between an old jeep and a fancy-looking sports car that she didn't recognize. There were several other cars in the garage, along with a small tractor. Some of the other cars looked expensive to her, although not all of them. She counted eight cars in all, including hers. She was glad that at least the jeep looked older and more beat-up than her hand-me-down Nissan.

Along the far wall of the garage were work benches and tool cabinets. Everything was clean and neat, which was very different from any garage she had been in before. She snorted, amused by the idea that this is how the rich lived. Erik walked over to one of the tool cabinets, opened a drawer, and took something out.

She tried to shake off her dislocated feeling, as though she had stepped into come sort of fantasy world. "Well," she said, looking at herself in the rear view mirror, "it's time to see if I can live the life of a rich playboy's toy."

She got out of the car as he walked up. "Welcome to the Bat Cave," he joked, opening his arms to indicate the underground garage. "It's a bit silly, sort of an adolescent fantasy really. In truth, though, when we working on the plans for this place, any building large enough for all these cars was just too big, ugly, and out of place. So the architect tried fitting part of the garage back into the hillside, and well... this is where we ended up."

He held up a miniature keypad, which she realized was what he must have gotten out of the drawer. "This is a remote that you can use to open and close the garage door. If you give me a four digit pin code, and I'll program it in. I'll also set it up so you can use the same pin code for all the outside doors."

She thought for a moment, and gave him the year she was born. He nodded, "Okay, but let me start it with a 'nine' instead of a 'one'. It'll be harder for some random person to guess." He tapped in a series of numbers and then handed it to her, "You're all set. Let me grab your suitcase."

"So, is this a geek side of you that I didn't see before?"

He seemed a bit surprised by her question, thought about it for a moment and agreed, "Yep, there's a part of me that loves technology and toys. Of course, inside of every supposedly adult man there is this hidden adolescent, just yearning to be free." He opened up the rear door of her car and pulled out her suitcase.

"I don't know Erik, for a lot of guys, that adolescent ain't so hidden."

"Yeah, well some guys wear it on their sleeve. For me, it's hard to do the sort of real work an adult's supposed to do if an adolescent is in charge. Even though it's nice to stay connected to my younger self, I find it's a useful advantage in an adult world to actually be an adult."

"Well, that makes sense, and I certainly can't argue that it's worked out pretty well for you, so far." They started walking together toward the open door to the courtyard. "I've got to admit, though, the whole James Bond bit with the garage and the zoomie cars, it's a side of you that I'll have to keep in mind."

He smiled back at her, with an expression that was casually self-deprecating.

Once they walked through the garage doorway, he entered a code into the outside keypad and the doors began to swing shut. "You just have to enter your four digit pin here and they'll close." As they started across the courtyard, he asked, "So, what do you have against 'zoomie' cars?"

"Oh nothing, really. Just not the sort of thing I've ever driven." She was quiet for a moment, and then continued, "I guess all the guys I've ever know with a flashy car were real jerks. Kind of biased me against them."

"Do you drive a stick?"

"Uh, sure, but what's the connection?"

"All shall be revealed tomorrow."

"Yeah, about tomorrow... um, do I get any warning about what to expect?"

"We'll talk a bit later tonight. But mostly, I just want it to be something you experience. Don't worry, I think it will be a lot of fun." He opened the screen door to the main house. "Right now, why don't you take some time to unpack and freshen up for dinner."

Walking into the house, Melissa caught a whiff of wonderful cooking smells. She suddenly realized that she was hungry. She had been so nervous all day that she hadn't eaten much.

The screen door banged shut behind them, startling her. She realized she still was very nervous.

The house looked the same to her, with several levels stepping down toward the view out to the patio, with the meadow and creek down the slope beyond the patio wall. Erik stepped past her with the suitcase and nodded, "This way."

She followed him down to the middle level and off to the right. He went down a richly carpeted corridor, with stone lining the right wall and wood panelling on the left wall. Compared to the late afternoon sun outside, the corridor was dimly lit. She could see two doors on the left. The second door was open and some light spilled out into the corridor. The far end of the corridor opened into a small alcove, with stairs leading down to the left. They passed the first door and he led them through the open door.

Melissa stopped as she crossed the threshold, looking around at a beautifully appointed, but somewhat impersonal bedroom. It was a comfortable size, with a small sitting area. Waist-height windows overlooked a roof slanting away below, with the meadow and stream visible in the distance. The late day sun slanted through the windows, giving the whole room a warm golden glow. She could see a bathroom off to the left and large closets to the right. The bed was against the wall where she had walked in.

Erik put her suitcase on the bed, near the dresser and closets. He looked up at her, waiting for her reaction. She cleared her throat nervously, "Is this your room?"

"No, no. It's one of the guest rooms. If you go down the stairs at the end of the hall, that's the most direct way to my room."

"Oh. I didn't know... I wasn't sure what to expect."

"I wanted you to have a room of your own, a place that is just yours. As for the rest, well yes, I suspect we'll be spending a reasonable amount of time in my room."

He opened the closet doors, exposing a huge, wood-lined walk-in closet, shaped like a 'U'. She could see that there were already a few clothes and shoes in the closet. He noticed her looking and said, "I picked up a few things for you." He walked into the closet. Crossing to the back, he lifted a black dress off a hanger and bent down to pick up a pair of black high-heeled sandals. He came back out and set those on the bed, next to her suitcase. Then he went back to the closet and gathered something else off a shelf, which he laid next the the dress and shoes. Melissa couldn't tell exactly what it was, but she saw black leather and some sort of shiny metal.

Erik looked around, "Well, why don't you unpack, take a shower, whatever. Dinner will be in an hour. Wear only what I just picked out for you."

He walked to the door, "See you then." Closing the door behind him, he left her alone in the room.

For a couple of minutes, Melissa wandered aimlessly around the room, not sure what to do. Even though the room was beautiful and soothing, her nerves were jangling. She sat in one of the chairs and hunched over, cradling her head in her hands, "I have no fucking idea what I'm doing here."

After a moment, she whispered back to herself, "Oh that's right, I'm a sex slave. Better get to it. 'Yes master. No master. Whatever the fuck you say master.'"

She took a last look around, deciding that her allowed time for self-pity had expired. Reminding herself that it was a job, she stood up and walked over to unpack her suitcase. "Hey, I'm making good money, even if it's only one step above being a whore... if that." Despite her misgivings, she knew it was time to move ahead. She had always done her best in whatever job she had, even the summer she had worked in a fast food restaurant.

In her first trip to the closet, she checked out the dresses and shoes he had gotten for her. He seemed partial to silks, linens, and open weave cottons. They were all beautiful, but she decided there was no way she was going to be able to wear half of the outfits out of the house, certainly if she wasn't going to be allowed any underwear.

Almost all of the shoes had extremely high heels. She was amazed, and then a little uneasy that he knew her shoe size. She guessed that he must have snuck a look at the shoe size from her sneakers when she was in the creek. She kicked off the flats she was wearing and tried on several of the shoes. While they were high, she owned a couple that were nearly as bad. Of the ones she tried on, she really loved two of them. Now that she was looking at them closely, she realized that all of the shoes were from high-end stores and really quite beautiful, despite none of them seeming to have a heel less than five inches tall. At least they weren't the sleazy white-trash tramp shoes she first thought that they might be.

She decided that Erik might be kinky, and — given the height of the heels — a little impractical, but at least he had good taste. She slipped her feet into a pair of pastel tapestry pumps and reached down to pull the heels on. They felt surprisingly comfortable. Looking in the full length mirror, she decided they were her favorite pair. She kept them on as she explored the rest of the closet.

She realized that the dark wood shelves of the closet contained more than just the nice selection of tops and leggings that she had seen at first. There was one whole shelf of collars, mostly black leather. Another shelf held leather cuffs, she guessed for her wrists and ankles. She slipped one of the padded cuffs over her wrist, feeling the press of cool soft leather wrapped around her. Despite expecting that she would hate wearing cuffs, her body's response was a quickening heartbeat and a sudden clenching of her sex. She stroked the leather cuff alongside her cheek. It was smooth and soft. The dark leather felt buttery. She breathed in the scent of the leather.

Stepping closer to the mirror to see herself better, she realized that her labia were already slippery. She had freshly shaved herself bare that morning, and that always made her more aware of when she was getting wet. She had also not worn panties under her jean skirt, per Erik's instructions. The air moving past her dampened labia was suddenly very noticeable.

Sliding out a drawer, she discovered a selection of beautifully detailed corsets, along with stockings and garters. She rubbed some of the stockings together and decided that they must be silk. Going through the drawers, she became steadily more conscious of the pulsating warmth between her legs. Looking down, she was not surprised to see her nipples jutting out against the fabric of her blouse. Even though she had some serious misgivings about about how comfortable it would be to not wear a bra all summer, there was no doubt that feeling her nipples brushing against loose fabric was wonderfully distracting, especially when her nipples were already this tight and hard.

Reaching up she lightly ran her hand across her right breast, trembling as her fingers made contact with her straining nipple. Taking it between her thumb and forefinger, she squeezed gently, shuddering as she pressed her fingers together.

Letting up a little, she used her free hand to pull open the next drawer, revealing a collection of sex toys and vibrators. She drifted her hand across the variety of shapes, sizes, and colors. One toy looked like two large flattened purple raindrops, connected together at their tails, and then folded over in a 'U' shape. She picked it up. When she squeezed one end, it started to quietly buzz in vibration.

Intrigued, she slid one end up between her labia. It nestled in against her G-spot and she moaned, barely catching herself as she teetered forward on her heels. She thought about kicking the shoes off, but seeing herself again in the full-length mirror, she whispered, "Damn, I really do look hot in these."

Keeping the shoes on, she shifted into a wider stance and braced herself against the shelves. Then she pressed the 'U' of the toy closed, trapping her clitoris and G-spot between the two vibrating petals. Her breath shortened as she began to moan in quick little gasps. Her hips began to buck, even before her orgasm started. When her peak finally crested, she slowed down and drew her orgasm out, letting her it roll on for several shuddering after-shocks, before finally subsiding. Drawing a deep breath, she discovered she was so wobbly that she could barely remain standing.

She carefully slumped down to a sitting position on the soft carpet, with her back resting against the opposite set of drawers, her legs splayed out in front of her. Seeing the colorful pumps, she decided that she definitely liked them, and she really, really liked the vibrator. She looked back into the mirror, admiring her bare legs, framed by the jean skirt, which had slid nearly up to her hips. She raised up a knee so she could just see her shaved labia, glistening in the mirror. Reaching down, she deliberately stroked herself, teasing herself through her reflection.

It seemed like being a sex slave might be a lot better than making fast food hamburgers all summer.

A half hour later, she had finished unpacking and taken a quick shower. She went back over to the bed to consider the outfit that he had picked out for her. She had looked at it before she unpacked. The dress was mid-calf tea length, with shoulder straps and buttons all the way up the front. It's style was summer-time evening dressy in black chiffon silk lace. She had to look carefully, but she found where the opaque nude lining had been carefully removed, leaving only a nearly-transparent layer of thin silk lace. She had not yet tried it on, but she was certain that it would leave very little to the imagination.

She had categorized the shoes as generic high-heeled "fuck me" strappy sandals. When she had looked at them closer, she saw that they were Italian, real leather, and beautifully made. After reconsidering the shoes, she decided that they were still high-heeled "fuck me" strappy sandals — just a higher class of "fuck me".

The third, and last, thing he had left her to wear had caused her a bit of anxiety. It had turned out to be a black leather collar, with a small o-ring riveted to the front and a short leash snapped onto the o-ring. The leash was a shiny metal chain, with a black leather wrist strap on the end. She had picked up the collar briefly, held it up to her neck, and looked in the mirror. The leash had hung to just a little below her waist.

The leash and collar now lay on the bed, where she had dropped it before unpacking. The metal links looked like a shiny puddle on the comforter. Reaching down, she picked up the collar again. The leather was cool and buttery soft. The leash's chain rattled softly as she lifted the collar back up to her neck. She flinched when the cool metal of the chain draped across her torso. Her skin was still steamy warm from her hot shower. Looking in the mirror, she could see that her areolae had almost instantly crinkled tightly and her nipples had popped up stiffly. She took a deep breath to calm her clanging nerve endings, which were protesting the sudden cold of the metal. In the mirror, she couldn't help but notice how the metal chain slid up and down between her breasts as she breathed.

She quietly asked the empty room, "Who would have known that wearing a leash was such a turn-on?"

Picking up the sandals, she sat down on the edge of the bed. As the lower portion of the still-cold metal chain pooled across her labia, she gasped. Groaning quietly, she waited for her skin to adjust to the cool metal. After a long moment, the intensity faded and she bent over to slip on one shoe. Once she figured out how to fasten the ankle closure, she sat back up to get the other shoe. Her motion caused a different part of the metal chain to slide across her pubic mound. The metal's cool smoothness sparked shivers, causing goosebumps on her thighs.

She also realized that her sex was slick with wetness once again. She shook her head, realizing that her careful washing in the shower hadn't lasted long.

Looking down, she saw the chain dangling between her breasts, with at least several inches puddled between her legs, resting against her labia. With a guilty smile, she opened her legs and gently smoothed the chain out into a line, running along the seam between her labia. When her hand reached the leather strap, she pulled slowly downwards, watching the chain disappear between her labia.

The coolness of the metal made her groan again. She tugged downward harder, gasping as the smooth chain came in contact with her clitoris and then slid downward across it. Pausing a moment to let the intensity subside, she realized that her heart was pounding and her breathing was ragged.

She set down the shoe she had been holding in her other hand and grasped the leash above where it disappeared between her smooth labia. Sliding the leash upward, she could feel every link in the chain as it slipped past her clitoris. Each link tugged softly on the hood of her clitoris up, exposing her aching, throbbing core to the next smooth, slick link of rapidly warming metal. Well before she reached the end of her chain, an orgasm began trembling through her. She shuddered and gasped, pulling the chain in tight against herself and the full power of her orgasm exploded in a bucking inferno. Suddenly, she realized she was yelling. She froze in silence, feeling horribly embarrassed.




Summer Hire Ch. 06



She looked around, quickly coming back to her senses. She whispered to herself, "Oh shit! He's got to have heard that." She looked fearfully at the door, worried he would come storming in. 

Then she looked back at her reflection in the mirror and laughed. She felt silly, sitting there naked, not allowed any underwear, wearing his collar and leash, and being worried about whether or not she was allowed to be sexual.

Picking up the second shoe again, she bent over and put it on. When she straightened back up, she carefully extracted the leash from between her labia. The whole lower end was coated in her slickness. Worried about being on time time, she stood up quickly, and found herself teetering for a moment on the sandals. They had a whisper thin sole and the heels felt as though they were at least five inches tall. She caught her balance, realizing that she was also a little wobbly and lightheaded from her orgasm.

Hurrying carefully into the bathroom, she washed off the leash and touched up her make-up. She poked her head back out to check the time, and decided she could afford a minute to dry off the chain. Checking her appearance in the mirror , she grinned at the wanton image reflected back — naked except for expensive black "fuck me" heels, black leather collar, and a chain. She notice the light glistening off her wet labia, which were still engorged and spread open.

She quickly reached to grab some Kleenex, but stopped herself in mid-reach. Straightening back up, she appraised her image in the mirror again. Deciding that her aroused state was perfectly in keeping with the outrageousness of the rest of her image, she went back into the bedroom to put on her dress.

After pulling the dress on, she turned back and forth in front of the mirror, confirming that it was nearly transparent, at least in the right light. Wearing it made her feel odd. It physically felt like a real dress. In her peripheral vision, when she caught her reflected image in one of the room's full-length mirrors, it looked like a real dress. When she looked more carefully, however, the fabric was only about as obscuring as pantyhose.

"Oh well." she thought as she fished the leash out from underneath the front of the dress, "it's not like we're going out clubbing. This doesn't even qualify as clubwear. It's way too pretty... and way more revealing than anything I'd wear, hell, anything I've ever seen someone else wear." She found herself wondering, though, what it might be like to wear something like this around other people. The leash and collar would almost be scarier to wear at a club than the dress. The shoes, though, she wanted to keep.

She walked out her bedroom door, wondering for a moment what would happen when the summer was over. "Silly," she told herself, "my summer job hasn't even officially begun and I'm worrying about whether I can keep the clothes when I'm done?"

Walking down the corridor, she heard a pot lid clanging in the kitchen. Delicious smells grew in strength, reminding her that she was starving. All her worries about the end of the summer vanished, pushed aside by her growling stomach and her fears about the start of her job.



Summer Hire Ch. 07



Dinner

Erik looked up as she entered the main part of the house. He had a black dishtowel draped over one shoulder and had been stirring something in a pan. She noticed that he had changed. He wore black leather jeans and a pressed white button-down cotton shirt.

She wasn't sure at first that his jeans were leather, because the material looked softer and less shiny than what she had seen before. They actually looked comfortable. "Of course," she thought, "he looks gorgeous in them."

He flipped the towel off his shoulder, setting it down on the counter as he walked over to greet her. 

She had been so distracted by his appearance that she had completely forgotten about what she was wearing. As she suddenly remembered the leash and her nearly naked state, her confident stride faltered and she involuntarily ducked her head in embarrassment.

He paused as well, tilting his head to the side. She was instantly angry with herself for her uncertainty. She had wanted to be sophisticated and confident, not awkward or ashamed. Seeking to turn her stumble into something that seemed more intentional, she sank slowly to the floor into the first kneeling position her had taught her, as best as she could remember it. Ducking her head and sitting back on her calves, she thought to herself, "That's a hell of a lot harder in these damn heels." She was proud, however, that she had managed the move in a mostly graceful transition.

She asked, "Does Master find me as he had wished?"

Soft laughter rumbled in his chest. "Yes indeed, my slave. You meet my expectations... rather nicely."

He walked closer. "It sounded as though you enjoyed your room."

She successfully avoided flinching in embarrassment. Instead, she mustered her confidence and insouciantly replied, "Yes Master."

He slowly paced around her in thoughtful appraisal. Stopping in front of her, he reached down to take hold of her leash. She could see the growing outline of his erection through the soft leather of his pants. Emboldened, she lifted her head and opened her mouth, trying hard to keep the posture he had taught her.

He laughed with delight. "Oh you are a saucy one, aren't you? Perhaps it's just that you're hungry." He unbuttoned the fly of his jeans and eased out his fully rigid member. Stepping closer, he inserted himself into her mouth.

She felt a powerful sense of joy about her ability to arouse him. Determined to prove her submission, she took him deep into the back of her throat. She heard him gasp at the sudden sensation, but then her gag reflex kicked into overdrive and she involuntarily jerked backwards, sprawling back on her rear, struggling not to throw up.

He swiftly knelt down next to her. "Wow there. We can take that a little slower. Swallowing me like that is something you've got to build up to."

She coughed back the bile, nodding in embarrassment.

"Let me get you something to drink..." He suddenly straighten up, "Oh shit, I'm going to burn the chicken." He rushed back to the kitchen while she tried to get her coughing under control. She was just returning to normal as he returned with a glass of water. She took it gratefully, tying not to spill as she took small sips and washed the foul taste of stomach acid out of the back of her mouth.

After a few more coughs, she handed the glass back to him. "Thanks. I'm better."

He gave her a hand up, and steadied her as she wobbled for a moment on her heels. She laughed self-consciously. "So much for being suave and debonaire." She deliberately mispronounced the French as "swavey" and "de-boner" to make fun of herself.

He laughed with her. "I wouldn't have you any other way. It's part of what makes you so wonderful."

She struggled not to show how her heart leapt at hearing such a loving compliment. After an awkward pause, she said, "Uh, thank you."

He smiled and her pulse quickened again. From the beginning, his smiles had radiated his obvious joy in his feelings toward her. She felt a sudden urge to see if someone was standing behind her. It seemed impossible that he was so happy about simply being with her. Thinking about it, she marveled at the casual confidence that allowed him to show such a feeling, without needing to hold back. It wasn't as though he had the goofy love-struck look that she had experienced with a couple of would-be boyfriends. He just seemed to really enjoy being with her and was completely secure about showing her his appreciation. The effect was potently magical for her. It simultaneously scared her and put her at ease.

"Here," he said, "Come sit down. Everything is ready."

The dinner was indeed marvelous. Erik turned out to be a good cook. She was a little embarrassed to realize that he was better in the kitchen than she was. "Of course," she reminded herself, "my budget mostly runs to Raman noodles."

They shared a bottle of a white French wine that was different from anything that she had tasted before. It had a deep fruity flavor, without any cloying sweetness. After gulping her first glass more quickly than she had intended, she slowed down, worried that she might get giggly or say something stupid.

While they ate, Erik talked about his expectations. "So this is going to be a bit odd, figuring out how everything works. First off, as far as I can tell, you are a strong, competent woman. I value that and have no desire to take it away. I'm convinced that the whole submissive thing is simply how you enjoy your sexuality, not how you live your life, and I'm not planning to confuse those two.

"What's going to make it a bit difficult is my being your employer." He paused for a moment, then continued, "There were a couple of reasons why I thought it made sense to set it up this way. At a practical level, you need a job. At a deeper level, though, I was worried that your years of Catholic moral indoctrination might be a tad bit at odds with the whole notion of exploring all the hidden nooks and crannies of your sexuality."

Melissa laughed and asked ironically, "You think?"

"Yeah, well, so what I'm hoping is to pull off some mental judo. Your job simply requires you to do all these horrible deviant things. Plus, I'm your mean, nasty boss. In the war between your deeply implanted moral imperatives, I'm counting on your adherence to authority and work ethic overruling any objections about sexual mores. After all, aren't good little Catholic girls supposed to do what they are told?"

Melissa sat up primly and folded her hands in front of her on the table. She cast her eyes demurely down. "I always do what I'm told, Master... now may I suck your dick?"

Erik laughed. "Indeed, that's the idea. But before we go there, I want to make sure we're clear on a few things.

After a moment to organize his thoughts, he continued, "So we've got this wonderful dominant/submissive thing going on. On top of it, I am your boss. At the same time though, we're just two people together, with equal rights and all that. The way that works from my point of view is that, as your boss, I'll lay out your schedule and responsibilities. As your dom, it's my job to train you and satisfy you."

She asked, "I thought my job is to satisfy you, not the other way around."

"Well, in the end, all of the satisfaction should be mutual, at least hopefully. But as a dom, my primary responsibility is for taking care of my sub's needs. I'll also see to it that I instruct you in how to meet my needs.

"In any case, I'm not a big believer in 24/7 dom/sub roles. I'll try to make clear the transitions into and out of the dom/sub playspace. I'll also try to keep your scheduled time, from a 'work' point of view, limited to a reasonable number of hours. You'll have off from 7am on Wednesday to 7am on Thursday every week, and every other weekend from 5pm Friday to 7am Monday."

"Okay... so what is this schedule thing?"

He smiled and pulled his phone out. Opening up a calendar, he said, "Let's see. Tomorrow morning at seven, you have an hour with your personal trainer, Amy. Then you've got a massage with Serena. After that, it's off to Henri for hair, nails, and a pedi. I'll meet you for lunch, then off with Cathy for clothes shopping. Back here by four for an hour of martial arts training with Sensei Michael."

"Wow. That's not exactly what I was expecting when you said 'sex slave'."

"Oh, we'll have plenty of that too. But you'll be busy with lots of other stuff. Some of your teachers will be vanilla. Some of them are part of the scene. I will let you know which ones I'll allow to do whatever they want with you."

"Ah... I didn't know there would be others."

"Selected. Vetted. But yes, there will be others. And remember two things. You always have your safe word, and you can always quit."

"Um, sure."

"Do you remember your safe word?"

"Red light."

"Good. Hopefully, you won't need it... at least, too much. Anyway, my job is to find out where your boundaries are and carefully feel out what works. I might push a bit on those boundaries at times, in fact, that's pretty much guaranteed, but saying 'red light' will always shut everything down.

He grinned wryly, "A safe word is essential because I don't know if you're going to enjoy yelling, 'Stop! Don't do that!' as part of being in sub head space. If so, well, then that's part of the game. 'Red light', on the other hand, says the game is over. 

"Of course, if you have to use your safe word, then something I've done has pulled you out of the scene, which means I've screwed up. So while there's going to be lots of stuff that's challenging, and probably even uncomfortable, the point is, all of it should pull you into the scene, not push you out. 

"If something isn't working and I don't notice, you can also say 'yellow light'. That means that you're starting to pull away from being in the flow of what's going on. It can be as simple as a restraint that's too tight. Or it can be finding yourself drifting toward a head space that's not present. That's a problem because when there's a lot of intensity going on. You're safest when you're present. Drifting away is generally a no-no." He paused to see if she had questions.

She nodded slowly, "Okay. I think I get all of that. I'm just not so sure I signed up for being available to somebody else simply because you say so."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I don't think it's going to be as horrible as you might fear. If it is, you can use your safe word. And if that's not enough, you can always quit."

After a thoughtful moment, he continued, "Look, no matter what, if we really aren't in the same place, if this simply isn't working out, I'll let you know and you can go your own way. The good news is that you've already made the money you need for the summer. So for the rest of your summer break, you can just go do whatever you want."

She took a thoughtful breath. She didn't really want to be fired. That idea felt like failure. At the same time, she realized the truth of what he was saying. If she didn't want to do what he told her to do, she could simply leave.

She looked up at him and nodded again.

"Good. So, you should know that Amy, Serena, and Cathy are all part of the scene, at least to one degree or other. I've told Amy and Serena that they can have free rein with you. I didn't say anything to Cathy either way. She's a submissive, so I'm sure she wouldn't do anything without asking in any case. Amy, on the other hand, is definitely a dominatrix. Serena enjoys both top and bottom. I'm pretty sure that all of three of them are primarily hetero, but I also know each of them enjoys women as well. For tomorrow though, I don't think any of them will be too aggressive with a newbie. They're all good people. I trust them."

"Ah, are you kind of assuming that I'll make out with another woman..."

"Yep. It's part of the job." He looked at her carefully for a moment, then continued firmly, "You're my good little Catholic girl now. You have to do what I tell you."

Melissa took a breath to remind herself that it was indeed her job. "Okay..."

"Or do you want a spanking?"

The possibility of being ordered to have sex with another women combined with the threat of punishment quickened her pulse. By this point, she wasn't surprised to feel her sex clenching as well. It seemed to be the new normal for her. She decided to not fight it, at least for the time being. Taking another deep breath to steady herself, she answered with a sly grin, "That's always your option, Master."

Erik laughed. Gesturing at the table, he said, "I guess we're mostly done with dinner. Let's go out to get desert." He stood up and offered his hand.

She slipped her hand into his and stood to join him, discovering that with the outrageously high heels he had selected for her, she was glad for the support. As they walked away from the table, a cool breeze of air slipped through her lace dress, reminding her how exposed she was. She couldn't help but glance down. She saw, with no great surprise, that her nipples were prominently erect. As they walked away from the table, she also felt her wet labia sliding past each other.

Betrayed by her body, a brief flash of anger shot through her, upset that her arousal could be caused by the thought of being with another woman. Except for that one drunken night with Jill in her junior year, she had kept those fantasies firmly tamped down. When a boyfriend in senior year had suggested a ménage à trois, she had broken up with him. "Of course," she told herself, "that guy was a complete asshole. I was looking for an excuse to dump him anyway. And even if Erik is a bit full of himself sometimes, he's not an asshole — at least so far. Plus he's right, my job description is being his sex toy. I signed up for it. If it gets too weird, I can always use the safeword thing, or just quit. I'll be okay. In the meantime, it won't hurt to explore a bit.

"Besides," she told herself, "it's not like being with Jill was horrible or anything." She felt herself growing warmer and even wetter at those memories. "Damn, shaved and no undies means I'm going to be walking around way too slippery. This is going to be annoying if it last all summer. It can't, can it?" A grin curled her lips as she decided it might be fun to find out.

When they reached the door to the courtyard, it suddenly dawned on her that Erik had said "go out" for dessert. She suddenly froze. "Uh Erik, you mean go out in public, with me, dressed like this?"

He grinned, "Don't worry. This is one of those 'trust me' moments. You'll be fine." He pulled something black from one of the the coat hooks near the door as he led her outside.

The sun had set during dinner, and the evening was noticeably cooler. Erik paused, shaking out the black silk wrap he had taken from the coat hook. She realized that the wrap was surprisingly long, almost like a cape. He set it on her shoulders and fastened a small tie in front. The front panels of the wrap perfectly counterweighted the rear draping, so the wrap rested evenly on her shoulders. Then he lifted the chain of her leash out from under the wrap's tie and led her around the asphalt perimeter of the courtyard that surrounded the cobble stone center.

She was amazed at how being led on a leash could be so arousing. Her heart wasn't quite pounding, but she knew it would't take much to get her wound up even tighter. She barely noticed when he punched in the garage code. The inside lights flickered on as the doors swung silently inwards.

He led her over to a black Porsche 911. "Here," he said, "this should be a good way to start."

His voice broke her out of her reverie. Looking down, she saw the car and laughed. Erik looked at her puzzled. Embarrassed, she quickly explained, "Ah, the last time I was in a Porsche with a guy, it didn't work out so well."

He nodded his understanding. "Well," he waved his free hand at the rest of the cars, "we could take something else."

"No," she replied quickly. She looked back at the black sports car. "This will be imminently satisfactory."

He chuckled, then he led her to the driver's door. Unsnapping the leash from her collar, he reached down to open the door for her. She looked at him puzzled. He said, "You said you drove a stick."

"Ah yeah, but with these heels..."

"You can step out of them before you get in. I'll keep them with your leash."

She looked down at her shoes, realizing that her attempted excuse had failed. "Well, I guess I could try driving in them, but don't blame me if I wrap this thing around a tree."

"Try not to," he said, handing her into the car. She slipped into the low seat. He waited while she adjusted her dress and wrap, then gave her the seat belt to buckle. As she turned to take the seat belt from him, she found herself eye level with his crotch, encased in buttery soft smooth leather. She smiled at the contrast from her last ride in a sports car. Then she turned the other way to fasten the seat belt and he closed her door.

While he came around the car and got in next to her, she took the opportunity to examine the gauges and controls. The high-priced unfamiliarity was unsettling. She located the headlights and turned them on.

After he got settled, he nodded to the dashboard and said, "The keys are in it. Why don't you ease it out of the garage and get a feel for the clutch?

She pressed the thin leather of her sandals down on the clutch and the brake. With a quick breath, she started the engine. It revved into life behind her. Having the engine sound in the back of the car confused her for a moment. She put that feeling aside. Looking around one last time, she reached down to release the parking brake. Then she worked the gear shifter to make sure it was in first. She was grateful that the front of the car was facing towards the door.

Worried she was looking too hesitant, she let out enough on the clutch to let the car slide through the garage doors and out into the courtyard. Erik reached up to punch a button on the small console above the rear view mirror. Looking into the mirror, she saw the garage lights flicker out and the doors start to swing shut.

She looked back to Erik. He smiled and gestured down the driveway. "Ready?"

After a few miles, she found herself really enjoying the experience of driving such a responsive car. It was a thrill to zoom around corners on the parkway into the city. She had to be careful not to let her speed creep too much up past the speed limit. Only halfway to the city did she remember that she didn't have her purse or driver's license. After that, she was much more careful to keep her speed moderate. The traffic was growing thicker in any case.

Erik directed her through the city to a restaurant she had never been to before. As they drove up the street to the valet stand out front, he reached out to lay his hand on her arm. "The trick," he said, "is to be utterly unselfconscious and normal. This is a frequent hangout of folks who... live a different lifestyle. It doesn't matter what shows or doesn't show. All that matters is your own confidence in yourself."

She glanced at him, thinking, "That's easy for you to say. You're not the one who's half naked." But she said nothing, only giving him a quick grin before stopping for the valet. He opened the door for her and she carefully swung her legs out, not wanting to snag a heel and look like a klutz. She stood up, pausing for a moment to be certain of her balance at her new height. Despite knowing that she was nearly six inches taller, she was surprised to find herself looking down at the valet. In turn, he seemed a little startled looking back at her. She noticed his eyes were dilating wider. In a sudden flash of realization, she realized that he was dumbstruck by her appearance, as though she was some sexy, super model unexpectedly emerging from an expensive sports car. "Hey," she said to herself, "I am. Own it bitch. You're hot!"




Summer Hire Ch. 07



With a smile, she took the claim ticket that he held out, but had momentarily forgotten. "Thank you," she whispered in a deliberately sultry voice, and stepped past him. She was indeed grateful. His reaction had given her the boost she needed to feel secure in her blatant sexuality. She walked around the car to Erik, feeling far more confident in her heels. Taking his arm, they walked together into the restaurant.

A second valet stepped away from his stand and opened the door. Erik swept Melissa into the dark paneled foyer, stopping at a small podium where a tuxedoed mâitre d' held a phone to his ear while he was scribbling something down. The mâitre d' glanced up, nodded at them welcomingly and quickly finished his call. As he hung up, Erik said, "Richard, I'm sorry for not calling ahead. I was hoping we could drop in for a bit of dessert and perhaps some coffee."

The mâitre d' smiled widely and replied, "Certainly Master Erik. It is, after all, a Sunday evening, so you have your choice of rooms."

"Oh, I think we'd like the patio. By the way, let me introduce Melissa."

Richard took her free hand and bent over to briefly kiss it, "Enchanté, Miss Melissa. Welcome to our small world."

She smiled back, a touch uncertain, then answered, "I look forward to my exploration."

He released her hand to lead them inside, "I hope we will not disappoint."

Erik chuckled, "How could you possibly, Richard?"

The mâitre d' shook his head, "Oh there are nights, Master Erik." He sighed as they walked down a heavily carpeted dark hallway. "There are nights that try one's soul. Balancing all the various desires of our clients can be... a distinct challenge. Tonight, however, all is quiet."

He stopped at a set of curtained French doors on the left side of the hallway and opened them, waving the couple through. The first thing that Melissa saw as she entered was a pudgy man sitting on the tiled floor of the courtyard, dressed only in a leather collar and leather shorts that were far too small. He was caressing the tall black boots of a striking woman who sat at a table sipping wine.

The sitting man looked towards them as they entered. Melissa saw the woman swing a riding crop down across the man's face. Tightening her grip on Erik's arm, she flinched a little as the crop struck with a "thwack". The man quickly returned his attention to his companion, mumbling, "I'm sorry mistress." Melissa didn't see any sign that the woman had noticed his apology before they had walked past the couple.

A little stunned, Melissa looked around the room. It was a two stories tall, filled with potted trees , tables, and two fountains. The ceiling was painted a velvety black, with a sprinkling of white pinpricks of light that looked like stars. A narrow balcony encircled the room on three sides. She could hear birds somewhere distant. The whole feeling was remarkably like being outside at night.

There were only a few tables occupied. Most seemed more normal than the first one she had seen, although the women were dressed in more revealing outfits than she had ever seen in public, even while clubbing. Their outfits were clearly more expensive and refined than the clubwear that she had seen, but most of them left very little to the imagination. Two women were seated together at a table in chiffon silk tops, with nothing underneath, although one of the women looked like she would have benefitted from some support. Melissa silently reprimanded herself, "Meow, bad kitty! No mean comments."

They walked past two aging gay men, dressed in exaggerated black leather biker gear. Melissa tried hard to take everything in without staring.

As Richard brought them to a table in the back of the patio, she heard a man call out, "Erik!" They turned to see a couple seated at a dark table under the balcony. The man waved pleasantly. He was very distinguished looking, dressed in a dark suit with grey hair and a goatee. The woman, Melissa realized, was naked except for a gold collar and three thin gold chains, two of which were attached to gold rings through her nipples and the third of which dropped straight down past her navel, disappearing beneath the tablecloth. Melissa had a strong intuition about where the third chain was attached. Rings through one's nipples or clitoral hood, however, had never personally appealed to her. She had always considered piercings to be too painful a form of decoration. Getting her ears pierced had hurt for days.

Erik waved back, "Hello Michael, Deborah." He nodded to Richard and then escorted Melissa over to the couple. Melissa noted that the woman's skin was dusky, somewhere between Mediterranean and African. She also saw that the man's shirt and tie was as dark as his suit and he was deeply tanned. She realized that it was no wonder that she had not noticed them until Michael called out.

Erik said, "It's wonderful to see you here tonight. May I introduce Melissa?"

The man stood as he replied warmly, with an oddly formal half-bow, "Good evening my dear."

Deborah reached out her hand to shake, "I'm so happy to see Erik with such a lovely companion."

Melissa took her arm from Erik and shook hands with the other woman. Deborah had a nice, firm grip. Melissa was bemused at how normal it seemed to be shaking hands with a beautiful naked woman in a restaurant. Michael took her hand as well, patting it with his other hand. He told her, "It is indeed very special to see Erik with you tonight."

There was a pause in which the couple seemed to expect Erik to say something in response, although he remained silent. Michael smoothly continued, "Please join us. We have finished eating and were just chatting, but we'd be happy to enjoy your company while you while you eat."

Erik said, "Oh we've eaten too. We just dropped in for some dessert."

Deborah smiled broadly, "That's perfect, please join us. I'd love a chance to get to know Melissa."

Erik chuckled quietly, "I suppose so. It's probably good that you girls had a chance to meet each other. Be forewarned, however, this is our first night out."

Michael raised a questioning eyebrow. Melissa was jealous. She had tried practicing raising only a single eyebrow for a long time in front of the mirror, but never mastered the trick. With Michael, the gesture seemed perfectly natural.

Erik ignored the implied question and pulled a seat out for Melissa. Richard magically appeared at her elbow, asking, "May I take your wrap, or do you wish to keep it?"

With a glance at Deborah, Melissa reached up to pull her wrap's tie open. "Please take it. Thank you Richard." He slipped it from her shoulders and then just as quietly disappeared. Michael took in her lace-covered nakedness with an approving glance and gestured her to sit, which she did.

Michael sat down as well, although somewhat nearer to Erik than Melissa. The two men quickly fell into a detailed discussion of a business deal that they had both been considering. It looked obvious to Melissa that Erik did not want to be led into a discussion about their relationship, so she turned to Deborah.

While Melissa tried not to stare, it was hard to avoid noticing how gorgeous Deborah was. She had jet black hair and high cheek bones, with a strong nose and a luscious mouth. The thin gold chains hanging from her collar were beautifully accented against her dark skin tone. The two chains leading to her nipple rings draped in soft curves from her generous breasts.

Deborah smiled at her reassuringly, "It really is nice to see Erik with you. He has needed somebody in his life."

"I... I'm not sure exactly what I am... to him I mean, at least right now. But it's been interesting. I just moved in today... to his place."

Surprise and delight flitted across Deborah's face. She said quietly, "Oh my, that is wonderful news. Perhaps now he will settle down a bit. Erik is a very special man, but he's always been a bit adrift. He needs something, someone, to help hold him steady. Of course," she laughed self-deprecatingly, "that's what all women think. Too bad we're so often wrong."

"Hopeless romantics, yep. So, can I ask? What's the story with you and...?" Melissa nodded toward Michael to avoid saying his name and attracting his attention to their conversation.

"Oh, we've been together, on and off, for a couple of years now. He's a wonderful Dom, and we're good together."

"How so?"

"Well... you're new to all this, right?"

"Yeah, I guess it's sort of obvious, huh?"

"Sure, but we all had to start somewhere. So let's see. There's loads of Doms who just want a compliant, meek submissive. They're little men who want to be big men. Bullies. Well, assholes to be truthful." She paused for a moment, "I don't know, I'm probably being too harsh, but I hate dealing with that sort, no matter whether they're male or female.

"Me, I'm a grown-up girl. I'm a currency trader downtown. I make good money. I don't need a man to make me whole. But the thing is, what really gets me off is being a sex slave, especially to a man like Michael. If he ordered me to get on my knees, right here, and lick your pussy until you came, it would totally turn me on. I love being used."

Melissa did her best to avoid looking shocked, and mostly succeeded. Then she realized that the men's conversation had stopped. She looked over and saw them cooly staring back at her and Deborah. As she had feared, as soon as Deborah had mentioned Michael's name, it must have attracted his attention.

"Indeed," Michael rumbled with humor, "I think you need to put proof to your claim my dear. On your knees."

Deborah bowed her head, "Yes Master."

Michael's eyes flicked to Erik, "With your permission, of course."

Erik smiled back at Michael, then cast an appraising glance at Melissa. She was fighting against panic, trying hard not to let it show. Deborah was already on her knees in front of her, waiting for Erik's response. Melissa's panicky feeling of being trapped grew more urgent. It was clear that nobody was asking her if it was okay.

Erik reached out gently and put a reassuring hand on her arm. She saw that she was gripping the table tightly and tried to relax.

Erik asked softly, "Do you remember what your safe word is?"

Her mind spun for a minute, not sure what he was talking about. Then her world steadied as she remembered, "Red light."

"Okay, that's good, but in this setting, you say 'red light...' what?"

"Red light, Master."

He patted her arm reassuringly and turned back to Michael, "Certainly Michael, you have my permission."

Both men turned to watch the women. Deborah leaned forward and brushed her lips against the top of Melissa's right thigh, were the front of her lace dress had pulled open, exposing smooth skin. Melissa took a sharp intake of breath, trembling slightly as Deborah drew her tongue along her exposed thigh. With deft fingers, Deborah reached up and unfastened the front buttons of Melissa's dress, up to her waist, allowing the black lace to fall away to either side of her, exposing completely what had already been easily apparent.

Melissa stilled herself and closed her eyes. As Deborah's gentle kisses continued, she heard Erik's softly spoken command, "Melissa, open your legs for her."

With a slow, deep breath, Melissa complied, slowly opening her legs to expose her vulnerability. Deborah kissed her way toward Melissa's burning hot mound, and she shuddered. Then Deborah's lips drifted across her engorged labia, ever so delicately. Melissa arched back, pushing against the back of her chair. All she wanted in that moment was Deborah's tongue inside her. Without asking, Deborah seemed to know her need. Beginning just above her anus, Deborah stroked her tongue firmly upward, sliding deep into Melissa's cleft and then sliding out again, up past her aching clitoris.

Deborah's tongue circled Melissa's clitoris as her breath started to come in short, sharp intakes. Without warning, Deborah's finger slipped into Melissa's soaking wet entrance and firmly pressed upward against her G-spot, while Deborah's tongue pressed equally firmly down on her clitoris. The almost instantaneous result was an explosive orgasm. Melissa bucked in her chair, thrashing back and forth as Deborah stayed attached to her, extending the orgasm to the point where it was almost painful. Just before crossing that threshold, she backed off, letting Melissa slump down into her chair.

As Melissa struggled to catch her breath, she gasped out, "My god, Deborah, what did you do to me?"

Deborah simply smiled broadly and slipped back into her own chair.

In her post-orgasmic haze, Melissa saw that her guess about the third chain was correct. It was attached to a thin gold ring that penetrated her clitoral hood. Instead of being put off, as she had initially felt, all Melissa wanted to do was to bury her own face in Deborah's smooth silky sex and tease that chain with her tongue.

Melissa was thoroughly bewildered by how quickly her whole attitude had completely changed. "My god," she thought, "A beautiful woman just ate me out in a public restaurant; I had a huge orgasm; and all I want to do is return the favor. This is so not Kansas anymore."

Across from her, Deborah giggled and said to Michael, "That was so fun. Thank you Master."

Michael smiled lovingly back at her, "Well, perhaps we could compound your pleasure?" He turned to Erik, "Could I entreat you into sticking your dick in her mouth? I would consider it a very special favor."

Erik considered this request for a moment. Deborah giggled again and pleaded, "Please, please, please. I've been a good little girl."

Erik sighed, "I suppose it would be rude to say no." Then he stood and walked around to Deborah, unzipping his pants and pulling out his semi-erect penis. He stood slightly to the side of her chair, so Melissa and Michael could both watch.

Melissa watched, stunned, as Deborah reached out with two fingers to tease Erik's penis into her mouth. Then she swallowed the entirety of him, her lips bumping up against his torso.

Melissa wasn't sure what she was feeling. Part of her reaction was anger, because "her boyfriend" had just inserted himself into another woman's mouth, even though she knew that this same woman had just licked her into an explosive orgasm. She also wondered if her reaction was due to seeing Deborah casually suck the entire length of Erik into her mouth, as though he was simply a piece of delicious candy. Melissa had never seen another woman sucking a man, except in the porn movies that a couple of former boyfriends had liked watching with her. There was something different and fascinating for her in seeing it only a few feet away.

Deborah drew back, letting Erik's much more engorged penis slide most of the way out of her mouth, keeping only the head inside her lips. Melissa could see Deborah take in a deep breath and she realized that Deborah must have taken him in so deeply that she simply couldn't breathe. Deborah smiled up at Erik. Maintaining eye contact, she slowly slid the entire length of him deep back inside until her lips once again pressed up against his torso.

Erik groaned deeply. Melissa looked up, jealous to see such a profound sense of contentment on his face. Then Deborah pulled back again, this letting his penis slip all the way out of her mouth while she grasped her hand firmly around his shaft and pumped hard. Melissa could her Deborah quietly breathing hard, catching her breath, and then Deborah suddenly slammed him back deep into her mouth, her lips rhythmically banging into his torso as she thrust her head back and forth. Melissa saw Deborah's breasts swaying and bouncing in time with the pounding rhythm of her head.

Erik gasped, his expression quickly morphing into urgency. Deborah pulled away from him again, pumping once more with her hand as she gulped in air. 

Erik complained, "You nasty woman! You just want to make me come as quickly as you can."

In response, she laughed gleefully, "Serves you right for all those times when you kept me on the edge of an orgasm for hours. Then she took a deep breath and rushed the full length of him back into her mouth. This time, she strained against him, pressing her lips hard into his torso, as though she was desperately trying to swallow him whole. He grunted with the intensity of the sensation.

Then Deborah pulled her head away again, gasping for air, while she resumed pumping him hard with her hand. Suddenly, Erik arched back and a thick, ropy stream of white shot out from his straining penis. Deborah immediately took him back in her mouth deeply as he finished ejaculating into her. He leaned forward, shuddering.

As Melissa watched Deborah swallow down his climax, a thought flashed through her mind, "That's one way to avoid the taste. Straight down your throat. Jesus!" Melissa felt her head spinning from the speed and intensity of what she had just witnessed, only a few feet from her.

Deborah pulled back very slowly, letting Erik's penis slip softly from her mouth. He reached down to stroke her cheek. His fingers strayed into some of the cum that had splattered across her face from his first spurt. Deborah noticed and turned her head like a cat to lick his fingers clean. Melissa felt her breath catch as she watched. Deborah noted her reaction out of the corner of her eye. As Erik stepped back and zipped himself back up, Deborah brought her own hand up and gathered up some more of Erik's cum from her chin. She held her fingers out to Melissa, inviting her to taste.

After a moment's hesitation, Melissa adopted a seductive smile and leaned forward, bringing Deborah's fingers into her mouth, to suck them clean. "At least," she thought to herself, "if I'm going to act out some porn film fantasy, his cum doesn't taste too terrible. Maybe a little sour, but I've had worse." The last thought made her laugh, and Deborah looked at her questioningly. Melissa was too embarrassed to explain her laugh, so she covered for it by nodding toward Deborah's face and saying, "You missed a spot."

Gathering her courage, she repeated to herself one of her uncle's favorite sayings, "In for a penny, in for a pound." Then she leaned forward and licked a large glob of cum that had been dripping down Deborah's chin. Holding it on the tip of her tongue, she offered the cum up to Deborah. With a knowing grin, Deborah leaned forward and brushed her tongue up along Melissa's. They slowly merged into a passionate kiss.

As the kiss lingered on, Melissa was drawn deeply into the intensity of the emotion, which stunned her. She had only meant to pretend being aroused, trying to show off a porn movie fantasy for the men, but the heat rapidly spreading through her body made it clear that her feeling were real. She found herself fighting to hold back against her powerful response to Deborah, but the intensity broke past her defenses. She rationalized, "What the hell; it's a summer thing. I'll figure it out later." With that resolution, she gave herself over completely to her passionate need to explore this new feeling.

The soft smoothness of Deborah's face was very different than kissing a man. The smell and taste of Erik's cum on both of them turned out to be surprisingly arousing. Even the lilac fragrance of Deborah's perfume was a novel experience. Perhaps some of this was familiar from her junior year fling with Jill, but Melissa had been so drunk that she didn't remember it very clearly.

She alternated licking Deborah's face with long, deep kisses. She wondered why so few men seemed to enjoy kissing as much. They always seemed to be in a hurry to move on to something else.

Her world narrowed in to the soft smoothness of Deborah, but in the dimness of her external perception, she heard Michael say, "Erik, I don't think I can take much more of this. Could I impose on you to help me out?"




Summer Hire Ch. 07



Then she heard Erik's reply, "They are pretty amazing. Sure, come on over here."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Michael stand up and move over to Erik. A little more distracted now, she shifted her head to watch them better. To her amazement, Michael unzipped his fly and Erik helped him pull out his fully erect penis. It wasn't quite as large as Erik's, but she soon lost sight of it as it disappeared into Erik's mouth.

She was so startled that she stopped kissing Deborah. Melissa felt knocked off balance yet again, "Is Erik gay?" She realized that she must have mouthed her question, because Deborah shook her head. Then Deborah stroked a finger alongside Melissa's chin, using her hand to gently turn Melissa's face back to her.

Deborah whispered, "No more than we are. Don't worry." Deborah smiled reassuringly at Melissa, noting her stiffness, "Just breathe. It's okay relax."

Melissa realized that she indeed had been holding her breath. She took a couple of deep breaths, closed her eyes, and tried to relax. Once Deborah saw her features soften, she asked quietly, "Everything okay now?"

Melissa nodded her head, feeling sheepish about her reaction. She thought to herself, "After all, I was just getting horny as all hell making out with a beautiful woman, why can't the men enjoy themselves?" Thinking back to the porn movies, she realized that two men together wasn't in the scripts of the movies that she had seen, but maybe real life was different.

Still embarrassed about her reaction, she hung her head and nodded again to Melissa that she was okay. When she finally opened her eyes again, the first thing she saw was a glistening streak on Deborah's right breast where a drop of Erik's cum had liquified and run down toward her nipple. The sight brought back with a rush the taste and smell of Erik that was still in her mouth, and then she remembered the amazing kisses that had put it there. Very rapidly, the chain of connections brought her aroused state flowing back into her awareness.

Mischievously, Melissa said, "Oh, there's another spot I missed."

Deborah followed her gaze, and then grinned back at her licentiously, arching to bring her breast up towards Melissa's mouth.

As Melissa leaned down to lick Deborah's breast, she thought, "Hah! Now we're back in the porn movie script." The soft firmness of Deborah's breast under her tongue was a new surprise. Jill, from her junior year, had been much less endowed.

Melissa tried to remember the ways that she had been turned on when various boyfriends had licked her breasts. She experimented with long soft strokes around her areola, trying to tease Deborah. From her soft moans, it seemed to be working.

Out of the corner of her eye, Melissa watched the men. Michael's penis was still sliding in and out of Erik's mouth. Like Deborah, he seemed to be effortlessly able to take the full length into his mouth. Melissa thought, "There's got to be a trick to that."

Then she noticed both men were avidly staring at her playing with Deborah's breasts. "Guys are so fucking predictable," she thought dismissively. When Erik saw that she realized they were watching her, he gave her a wink. She grinned back, despite herself. Taking their interest as impetus, she shifted her technique to flicking her tongue across Deborah's nipples, shifting from one breast to the other.

Deborah's reaction was a sharp intake of breath, followed by little shudders. Knowing that she was performing for the men, Melissa gently lifted one of Deborah's nipple rings with her tongue and took Deborah's stiff nipple between her teeth. Then she flicked her tongue across the portion trapped inside her mouth. Deborah arched a little further, and quietly moaned, "Oh god!"

"Wow," thought Melissa, "Either she's also putting on a real show for the boys or she's way more sensitive than I am. Maybe it's those damn rings. Nobody's ever turned me on like that just by playing with my boobs." Melissa wondered if Deborah was close to coming, and felt guilty for having brought her to this point without any plan for going further.

"In for a penny?" she asked herself. Then she slipped out of the chair and knelt in front of Deborah. When Deborah saw what she was doing, she smiled gratefully and spread her legs. 

As their eyes met, Melissa was shocked at the intensity of the connection. The warmth that filled her was not just all arousal. Melissa felt as though they were kindred spirits, connected in some deeper way. That idea made the thought of burying her face between Deborah's legs less of an act. Instead, making love to Deborah suddenly seemed much more intimate and scary. She told herself, however, that it was too late to back out now.

She crouched down to lick across the soft, bare skin above Deborah's mound. Melissa was amazed at how smooth it was shaved. She couldn't even feel the little rises of hair follicles under the skin. She found herself wondering if the smoothness came from waxing everything. The bikini waxes that Melissa had gotten were unpleasant enough to dissuade her from ever having all of her pubic hair taken off that way.

Melissa realized that she was distracting herself with these stray thoughts, so she pushed them aside. She drew her tongue slowly up alongside Deborah's swollen labia. She could see the glistening line that lay between the folds. There was even a slick spot on the seat cushion between Deborah's legs. It seemed that Deborah had not just been faking the intensity of her reaction for the benefit of the men.

Then Melissa blew a stream of air softly across Deborah's sex, which caused her to moan loader. Eagerly, Deborah wriggled down, half laying in her chair to present herself more directly. Melissa scooted back a little and was surprised to find herself admiring the view. Deborah's motion had opened up her labia, exposing a drenched cleft, with the wetness running all the way down to the pinkness of her anus. 

With a devious grin, Melissa ran her tongue around and across Deborah's tightly puckered sphincter, and then swept upwards, parting her labia, reaching deeply into her vagina, ending up circling the ring that pierced the hood of her clitoris. Deborah shuddered as Melissa's tongue lifted her ring and chain.

Finally, Melissa lay her tongue down on top of Deborah's exposed clitoris and pressed downwards, careful not to let her tongue move too much, afraid of overstimulating her raw nerve endings. Deborah's breathing sped up into shallow pants. Melissa slowly rocked her head back and forth, varying the angle of her pressure on Deborah's straining clitoris. Then Melissa softly slid her tongue back and forth with the rocking motion, and Deborah exploded into a gasping, quivering orgasm.

As her motion subsided, Melissa slowly pulled away, sitting back on her heels. She looked around and saw that the men had finished. Michael was already sitting back in his chair. Seeing that she still had the men's rapt attention, she adjusted her kneeling position into the submissive posture that Erik had taught her.

Erik chuckled and told Michael, "She learns quickly." Melissa thought she heard pride in his voice, which made her feel good. She worried that her warm feeling was the same as a dog might feel being praised by its master, but she decided not to worry about it for the moment.

Michael nodded agreement, "Indeed, she is a natural." Looking over to Erik, he added, "And, of course, your training is impeccable. I should know," he continued, gesturing toward Deborah, "I am already the beneficiary of your wonderful technique."

Melissa looked up at Deborah. She seemed to have recovered from her orgasm and she held her hand out to Melissa asking, "Can I help you up?" Deborah turned to the men and told them, "Us girls need to go to the potty."

Michael complained, "You know I like to watch."

Deborah replied, "Don't worry Master, I'll save some pee for when we get home."

Michael reluctantly agreed, "Well, all right then, I suppose you may go. Erik and I have some business to talk about in any case. And the details aren't for your ears. I can't have you trading on inside information."

Deborah stuck her tongue out at him. "Currency, I'm a currency trader. Your piddling little penny stocks hold no interest for me."

He laughed, "Wounded, I am, wounded to the heart. 'Penny stocks' indeed! I'll have you know that all you are is a quant. I, on the other hand, am a true arbitrage artist."

"Then maybe I won't save any pee for later... Master."

"Hah. I'll tie you up and play with you, and I won't let you come until you piss all over yourself."

"That's a promise I'm going to hold you to." Deborah held her hand out to Melissa again and said, "Come on. Let's go before he tries to renegotiate the deal."

Melissa had been so amazed by the conversation that she only remembered at the last moment to get up gracefully. After all the time on her knees, however, she was wobbly in her tall heels. Deborah held her hand to steady her until she got her balance back.

Then Deborah stood to join her, and Melissa found that she towered over the other woman. Deborah was barefoot. She was also a few inches shorter than Melissa, even without the difference in heels. Despite the difference in height, Deborah linked her arm with Melissa's and guided them towards to women's restroom.

As they walked, Deborah commented softly, "You seemed... a little shocked by that last bit."

"Well, ah... well the whole evening, really. I mean, ah, do you actually..."

"Pee for him?"

Melissa nodded.

"Sure. He loves it. Gets him all hot and bothered. And I like pleasing him. It makes me feel wanted and sexy. I mostly get hot just from knowing what it's doing to him. That's part of being a submissive, you know. So sure, peeing on the floor wouldn't really do anything for me if Mike wasn't around, but I love to do it for him. Of course, when he's over at my place, I try not to pee on anything that's too hard to clean. The only time I ever got angry about it was when he pissed on me when I was sitting on my couch. It's fabric. His couches, of course, are waxed leather."

"Uh?"

"Yeah, he loves to pee on me. He really loves filling up my mouth and having it dribble all down my chin and front." Deborah saw Melissa's shocked look and reassured her, "It's pretty harmless. You know urine is sterile. It's not like poop. Yeech!"

Melissa looked down at the floor, embarrassed, "Ah, about that, I'm sorry about the 'back to front' thing. I mean, I've been taught since I was a little girl, always wipe front to back. I didn't mean to, well..."

Deborah laughed, "Don't worry, my OB a long time ago prescribed me some antibiotics to take after any of that sort of play. I take a pill before I go to sleep and that's all I usually need. Besides, it was really fun. I like getting my ass licked. And you were really good everywhere else too. I had a great orgasm. Thanks."

"Uh, you're welcome."

Melissa looked around to see if anyone had overheard Deborah. There was nobody immediately nearby, but she realized that she had been so intrigued by their conversation that she hadn't paid attention to how strange it was to be walking with a naked woman through a restaurant. She looked down and saw that the buttons on the lower part of her dress were still undone and her dress had parted completely open from the waist as they were walking. She fought back a panicky need to grab at the fabric to close it. She reminded herself that the dress was only shear lace anyway, so closing the front wouldn't really change anything. Then she repeated to herself that being a sex slave was simply her summer job, so she should just go with it.

While she was sorting out her feelings, Deborah led them down a carpeted corridor to the women's restroom. As she walked in, she saw it was very plush. There was a softly lit anteroom with leather upholstered stools in front of a long mirror and a narrow counter. 

Deborah sat on one of the stools and patted on another to encourage Melissa to sit down. Melissa gathered her dress to sit, but Deborah stopped her, "Nope." Melissa paused, looking puzzled. Deborah explained, "When you're dressed like that, you're supposed to sit with your naked bottom on the stool and let your skirt hang over. Even when Erik's not around, it's best to practice."

Melissa said slowly, "Okayyy..." Then she arranged herself as Deborah had told her. "I guess there's a lot to learn. It's all so weird. I mean, well, I feel kind of unstuck. It's like suddenly waking up in Hogwarts. Know what I mean?"

"Yeah. You have very definitely stepped through the looking glass. And on this side, well, the rules are a bit different."

"No shit. I mean, being told to make out with a woman. I've never done that before, well, except once, when I was really drunk."

"Did you have as much fun that time too?"

"Ah... yeah. Probably. I'm not sure. I was pretty drunk. But the thing is, I know I like boys better. I mean, it's not just a homophobia thing."

"Sure, and I like men better too. And Erik likes women better. So does Mike. Doesn't mean that we can't play around."

"Oh that's good."

"What, playing around?"

"Ah, well, that too. No, I meant knowing that Erik likes girls better. I kind of got a little worried there. I mean, with his uncle and all."

Deborah laughed quietly. "I see. Well on this side of the looking glass, we call it polyamorous, or polysexual, or whatever. The bottom line is that a lot of kinky people are willing to... experience other ways of being, without worrying too much about labels. People try hard to just be comfortable in themselves. Kink can be weird enough. Being judgmental makes it way too hard.

"Aren't there any rules?"

"Sure. The core rule, at least for the people I hang out with, and frankly for the vast majority of the kinky world, is usually called 'safe, sane, and consensual', or some variation of that."

Melissa had a puzzled expression, so Deborah continued, "Okay, so what that means is that stuff doesn't 'just happen'. People talk about it first. They negotiate details and limits. They check in with each other while the scene is happening. Nobody does something that puts another person in jeopardy. Ever. And no matter what, there's always a safe word. Anyone who's truly crazy is simply not tolerated."

"But, like the chubby guy on the leash, licking that woman's boots. You know, the couple we walked past? Isn't that a little crazy?"

"That's just his kink. It's what gets him off. Sure, it's pretty weird and who the hell knows why he likes it, but the thing is, it doesn't hurt anyone else. Plus he's found a woman who will indulge his needs. Of course, that's Mistress Valerie. She charges a shit load. Man, I tell you, there's so many rich male subs in this town, a female dom like Valerie really cleans up.

"Anyway, true craziness is someone who's a psychopath, or schizophrenic, or whatever. Real mental illness. Those are the sickos. Newbies have to learn to watch out for them.

"Which means you're really lucky to have started out with Erik. Besides being gorgeous, and rich, and smart, he's mostly got his head on straight about all this stuff. What's really important is that this stuff only works for him if his partner is enjoying it. So sure, he's into all kinds of interesting kink, including spanking and whipping, and so on. But it only works for him if the woman is really into receiving it.

"The ones you have to watch out for are the guys who get off on causing somebody pain that they don't want or like. Nonconsensual. Involuntary. Those guys are the true psychotic sickos. Their empathy isn't wired right. Not just guys, women too. The ones who enjoy the power of hurting somebody against their will. That's a really scary situation. Those assholes are the lurkers around the edges. People find out about them quickly and they get banned. The good thing is that Erik will help you stay clear of all that."

"Wow. That whole thing sounds kind of scary."

"Yeah. Well it is, but it's actually pretty easy to manage. Especially for somebody strong like you. It's not like you're some pathetic little sub who can't think for herself. Besides, Erik really can't stand that kind of sub anyway."

"So, ah... you've know him for awhile?"

"Yeah. We were together a couple of years ago, for a while at least. Relationships don't seem to last long with Erik. I think it's that whole orphan thing. He tell you about his parents?"

"Yeah. That must have been terrible."

"His grandparents sure as hell didn't help. They didn't give him anything that resembled love."

"What about his uncle?"

"Wow, now there's an amazing guy. It's like if you took all the sweetness and compassion from Erik — and he's got plenty of it, even though he tries to keep out of view — anyway, you took all that good stuff and made someone who's only that, then you'd have his uncle. I ran into the two of them once at a gallery showing. Erik was funny about it. He was so protective and gitchy, but his uncle was incredibly warm and invited me to join them. I could tell their relationship was very important to Erik. Man, if he ever takes that special someone to visit his uncle, now that's how you'd know it was serious."

"So it wasn't serious between you two?"

"It was... intense. Wow. Yeah, 'intense' hardly describes it. But serious? No. Truth is, I don't think Erik's ready to be serious. That orphan thing. And, in all honesty, it wasn't just that.

"I mean, Erik is such an awesome dom; he's got this incredible antenna for understanding what his partner is feeling. The way he gets off is by taking his partner to a whole different... I'm not sure what to call it... maybe a 'plane of existence'. Anyway, calling it 'subspace' is just too kitschy for where he can take someone. 

"So, for me, lots of things can take me there. For instance, I love, love, love being tied up. And I hate it, well, actually love it when someone keeps me right on the edge of an orgasm for a long time before they finally send me over. Let's see, I love playing dress-up and role-playing stuff. Hell, I even really loved making out with you. That was awesome. My problem is, though, spanking and whipping, that really doesn't do it for me.

"It's, well... I can sort of get into it. As a submissive, anything that gets my Master excited does something for me. Even Mike peeing in my mouth can kind of be a turn-on — but mostly because I know what it's doing to him. Even swapping cum with you was the same way. It's my knowing what it does to my Master. It sure isn't the taste. I don't know anybody who actually likes the taste of cum. It's dick snot!"

Melissa looked unsure, so Deborah explained, "The thing is, your body only knows one way to make thick liquidy stuff. You know, like when you get a cold and all this disgusting stuff is pouring out your nose and down the back of your throat. That's the same as cum. Yummy, isn't it?"

"Okay, so now I'm never swallowing a guy's load again, ever."

"Sure, but keep in mind that we don't taste much better. Pussy juice is the same idea, only a little thinner. And squirters! Man, a woman who gushes all over your face when she comes — that can be a little too intense."

Deborah paused. She leaned over and casually drew the back of her fingernail up the inside of Melissa's thigh, "So if you don't want to suck down cum ever again, does that also mean you don't want me kneeling down in front of you, ever again?"

Melissa blushed and stammered, "I guess, I mean, it's just that, well, sure it was kind of... really wonderful. So I guess we could, sometime..."

Deborah smiled, "Hey, I really did like it. You... you're a pretty cool person. I guess I understand some of what Erik sees in you. And yeah, sure, we can get together again. It doesn't just have to be for awesome girly sex." She smiled mischievously, "We'll leave time for other stuff."




Summer Hire Ch. 07



"Thanks. That would be... nice. Does that mean I have to go back to swallowing 'dick snot' though? Yuck."

"Afraid so. And hey, come on, it wasn't that bad swapping Erik's cum. You weren't just faking it out there. I could tell that you were really into it."

"Well, I sort of got turned on, by you. And it was really hot, knowing that what we were doing was making the guys all horny. I mean, for God's sake, they went down on each other. That kind of thing didn't happen in any porn film that guys I knew ever conned me into watching. Sure, I mean, the girls in the movie make a big deal about how much they like sharing some guy's load, but..."

"But that's just acting. Being a submissive, on the other hand, is fundamentally different. A true submissive gets turned on just by the effect that she's having on her Master. Sure, there's a little bit of theater, but it's not fake. You weren't just pretending. You were turned on by what we were doing. That's the key thing."

"Okay... I mean, I've got a friend. He's gay and he said something a lot like that. That I had to get to a place where I really liked swallowing down somebody's cum. Playing with it, even. Like licking it off my fingers and all. But that if I was only faking it, then it wouldn't work, and I shouldn't bother doing it. He said that guys have this big thing about their cum being this huge precious deal, and it gets them all happy to know that somebody really wants it."

Deborah thought about what Melissa said for a moment, then replied, "Yeah, wow, I guess a gay guy would know. Sure. I never really thought about it from that perspective. But still, I can't believe a gay guy would like the taste of cum any more than anyone else, except for what it does for his partner. That's what makes it work.

"Anyway, like your gay friend, sucking down my Master's cum is something that I can get honestly excited about. I can get past the whole taste/texture thing because I know how much he likes watching me suck it down, and that makes my little sub self happy. My problem with Erik was that, try as I might, I just couldn't get into that same sort of place when it came to being spanked and whipped. I could, sort of, but it was more a matter of being enthusiastically willing to submit to him, but not ever really getting off on it. The thing is, Erik's too good of a dom. He could tell the difference. And I couldn't fake it; I wouldn't want to fake it. The feelings have to be real. So the whole thing felt sort of wrong and empty to him, because he knew that it wasn't really fun for me.

"Unfortunately, that part of his kink is really important to him. Please understand, it's not like he wants to hurt somebody. It's really important to him that the other person gets off on being spanked as much as he likes spanking. But that wasn't me. And a total pain slut, that's not for him either."

"A pain slut?"

"Yeah. That's somebody whose wiring is completely crisscrossed. A hardcore pain slut can get a little scary, because they keep on wanting more. And that's just not safe. They wind up getting hurt, for real. Nasty stuff. Plus, they get drawn to people who are into abusing others for their own jollies, like those psychopaths I was talking about. In truth, I really feel sorry for serious pain sluts. It's a pretty fucked-up way to live."

Melissa felt her stomach drop, worried she might be the sort of pain slut Deborah was describing. She hesitatingly asked, "So, if you like getting spanked, then, like, that means you're a pain slut?"

Deborah saw the fear underlying Melissa's question. Reaching over, Deborah patted her reassuringly on the knee. "No, no. I was talking about hardcore pain sluts. That sure as hell isn't you. I knew that much about you right away. Don't worry. There's plenty of people who aren't hardcore pain sluts, but who do really enjoying being spanked. Sometimes those people even come, big time orgasm, just from being spanked. So yeah, there's plenty of people like being spanked, but aren't serious pain sluts.

"My problem was, though, I just don't get off on being spanked, ever." Deborah stopped suddenly and looked at Melissa wide eyed, "Oh man, you do, don't you? I am so fucking jealous! This totally sucks. You're beautiful, you've got great tits, you're smart, spunky — not some wimpy little submissive — Erik hates those, and you're tall — oh God, he loves tall. Shit! It's just not fair!"

"Uh, but you're way prettier than I am," Melissa protested, "and you've got an incredible looking body, with amazing breasts..."

"Look, thanks, but I'm not in my twenties any more. And these," Deborah pointed to her breasts, "they cost more than my first car. And that was a Lexus. Well, a used Lexus, just coming off lease. Anyway, those pert little puppies," she pointed at Melissa's breasts, "well, not so little, anyway, they're still original equipment, aren't they?"

Melissa nodded sheepishly.

Deborah looked truly upset, "Life is just so fucking unfair." She shook her head, calming down a little, "It wasn't like Erik was looking to marry me and settle down anyway."

Melissa asked softly, "Was that what you wanted?"

Deborah's expression turned wistful, "I don't know. It was almost two years ago. I was just turning 30. Kids weren't so important to me back then, but yeah, I wanted something more. Don't get me wrong, Mike's great, but he's already had kids and a marriage. Of course, his marriage went south. Imagine a vanilla wife who couldn't stand his kink. She went apeshit when he when outside for it. The thing was, he never had intercourse with any of them. Oh well. She's an ass - his ex, I mean. The thing is, Mike's done with marriage, kids, and all that. Plus, he's a lot older than me.

"So, I don't know. I'm working 12 hours a day, making shit loads of money, but I like being tied up for sex. So, you know, it's a pretty weird combination. Problem is, us currency traders, we're an obnoxious, totally aggressive bunch. The men, and it's still mostly men, they're real He-Men. Sure, I can run with the best of them. Hell, I outperform most of them, but, God forbid, if anyone at work ever found out I'm a submissive, they'd totally trash my reputation on the trading floor. It's this boy's club, and those little boys gossip like no one's business. They'd make my life hell.

Deborah sighed, then continued more thoughtfully, "So my social world is completely divided in two, the people at work and the kink community. I really don't know anybody else. Finding that 'special someone' and starting a family, it just isn't working for me." She closed her eyes, momentarily fighting back a look of pain. Abruptly, she straightened up and said bitterly, "Well boo-fucking-hoo. Feeling sorry for myself is a waste of time!"

Melissa reached out and took Deborah's hands in hers. A dam inside Deborah seemed to suddenly break and she fell forward against Melissa, fighting back against quiet sobs. At first, Melissa went rigid, frightened by the sudden intensity of the emotions. She relaxed as she realized how much Deborah seemed to have needed this moment. Melissa reached up and slowly stroked Deborah's hair.

After a few minutes, the Deborah's tears slowed, then stopped. She said quietly into Melissa's shoulder, "I such a hopeless ass. I'm so sorry."

Melissa continued stroking Deborah's hair. She answered, "I think you're an amazing woman. I... I don't know, I'm so grateful for everything you've told me. You've been open, and incredible, in ways I couldn't have imagine. I mean, all this stuff has me really off-balance. Scared, sometimes, maybe a lot of the time."

Melissa laughed, then explained further, "My best friend at school is a gay man. I mean, he's great, but I don't really get along with any of the girls there. Sorry, I mean 'women'. No 'girls' allowed in the Ivy League. Anyway, whatever the fuck those females are, they just don't get me. They think I'm weird. And maybe I am." She paused, thinking. "The hell with it, of course I am!

"And do you know what's totally screwed up? I feel more comfortable here, wearing this see-through lace dress and these stupid fucking six inch heels; holding a beautiful, naked woman; hanging out with some really kinky dudes — I still can't believe that he really pisses in your mouth, wow, now that's so fucking weird — anyway, I'm more comfortable here than I've felt all year. Hell, maybe more than I've ever felt in my life. So if you're screwed up, yeah, well I guess I'm fucked up right along with you."

Deborah sat back up, smiled, and wiped her eyes. "Thank you for that. Dear God, I wish you were a a total bitch or something. It would be so much easier to hate you for having a shot at Erik that I never did." Then she shook her head, sadly. "Not that it's likely to make any difference. He's an incredible man, but he's way too much of an island unto himself. And the thing is, I'm pretty sure he doesn't know it."

Deborah reached over to a tissue box on the counter, pulled out a tissue, and blew her nose. Then she giggled and held it out to Melissa, "Want some dick snot?"

"Ew, gross!"

They both collapsed into laughter, holding each other.



Summer Hire Ch. 08



Interlude

Erik glanced over from his driving to see that Melissa was still scrolling through the songs on his phone. The drive back home had settled into a companionable silence. When they were leaving the city, she had asked to see his musical taste and he had handed over his phone. She played bits and pieces over the car's speakers, occasionally smiling in amusement or nodding in agreement.

Suddenly, she burst out loud laughing, "Neil Diamond!"

"Hey, that song's my uncle's favorite. It's on there because it reminds me of him."

She stared over at him, assessing. "You're just a softy, aren't you?"

"Hah! When it comes to my uncle, always."

"What's his name?"

"Jacob. Uncle Jake." Erik stared out at the dark road ahead, feeling a little uncomfortable talking about his uncle.

Melissa seemed to notice. She fell back into a thoughtful silence, and then went back to going through his music.

In the quiet dimness of the car, Erik found himself wondering about his feelings toward Melissa. He hadn't really considered his own feelings up to now. As usual, he had mostly operated on instinct. Something just seemed to have clicked for him with Melissa, and he had pursued that feeling with the same degree of single mindedness that had served him well in business.

At first, he thought his attraction to Melissa was the same as his other flings over the past few years, but now he wasn't so sure. He had shocked himself by so causally committing to a full summer, assuming she really stuck it out. He hadn't had a relationship that long for years. And he was between assignments. They'd both be around a lot together, seeing each other every day. He shook his head, wondering what the hell he'd done.

Stealing another quick glance over at her, he couldn't say that he regretted his impulsive action, at least not yet. She was very attractive; perhaps not "drop-dead" supermodel gorgeous, but as far as he was was concerned, she was beautiful. Something real and wonderful danced in his heart when he looked at her. He knew, of course, that much of this reaction was hormones. The rush of an unfolding relationship was always strong in the early days. But more than that, far more than he had hoped, she seemed to be the sort of sub who resonated completely with him, her yin matching his yang. He was sure there would be places where their interests diverged, but what was in consonance seemed very strong.

He was also amazed by her willingness to throw caution to the winds and embrace new things. It was a little breathtaking, and sometimes even scary. He felt responsible for being her guide into this world. Experience, some of it painful, had taught him that most people had emotional landmines hidden away, and those carefully hidden surprises could be devastating. Her trust in him was intimidating.

She interrupted his musing to ask a question about what it was like dating Deborah. He had been so lost in thought that it took him a moment to respond.

"Ah yeah, we went out for awhile. Deborah's, well, she's awesome. I guess you could probably see that. So we had a nice time. At the end of the day, though, it turned out that we were looking for different things. I still think she's a special woman. I know Mike feels that way. Plus you two seemed to have hit it off really well."

She replied wryly, "Yeah, well I guess your ordering her to eat me out sort of got us off to a bang, so to speak."

Erik laughed, a little chagrined. "Hey, it worked out pretty well. Besides, I warned you what your duties would be."

"True," she agreed. "All true. But... is that the way it is in this kink world of yours? Just hooking up for awhile, then drifting on. I mean, it seems kind of lonely."

"To tell you the truth, I'm not sure how it compares to the vanilla world. I do have some kink friends who are in long-term committed relationships. Some of them even have kids and all. I'm just not sure the idea of a soccer mom with a ball gag in her purse works for me. It just seems a little weird, mixing kids and a white picket fence in with kink."

"What's wrong with a soccer mom whose got a... ball gag? I mean in her purse."

"Ah sure... I'll show you what a ball gag is when we get back home. As for what's wrong, well, the world I live in doesn't have much of a place for all those normal suburban expectations. I mean, me personally, I'm away for months at a time. My love life is... somewhat unusual. Plus, truth be told, most of my relationships haven't really been very long-term. Anyway, with all that, I have a hard time seeing myself settling down, going to parent-teacher nights, that sort of thing."

"Can't see it? Or Won't?" she asked bluntly. "Are you sure it's the whole kink thing or is it just that you're not willing to risk loving?"

He felt an angry jolt stiffen his back. "Sounds like Dr. Phil psychobabble to me."

She paused for a minute, considering. Then she said, "I know you look like some hard-edged, big-business, dominant macho man, but the Erik that I've seen, most of the time, well, you're obviously thoughtful and... I don't know, compassionate. That last bit, though, was easily the most jerk-ass thing I've ever heard you say. It's kind of telling me that something hit a bit close to home there."

He froze, wanting to yell at her. Instead, he forced himself consider what she had just said. From his strong internal response, he knew there was something in what she said that he didn't want to see. Her words had the feel of truth. He hated living in lies. Looking clinically at his response, he knew he'd been dishonest. Stepping back from an immediate answer, he observed, "You're pretty fearless, aren't you?"

She nodded in agreement. "Sometimes." Then she looked out her side window. "Other times, the good little Catholic girl in me stays quiet. Then the crap builds up, till I explode." She turned back to him, "It's better when I can stay on top of it. Feel it. Say it. Don't hide it."

He nodded, agreeing with her, without looking away from the road ahead.

She continued, "If a boyfriend can't handle it, then to hell with him. Of course, I haven't had a lot of good long-term relationships either, so what the hell do I know?"

He nodded again, then said softly, "Apparently more than I do." He stared ahead at the road for awhile more. "Okay, so you're right. I'm chicken when it comes to risk in a relationship. The thing is, my saying that doesn't mean that it'll all magically change, but it also doesn't mean that you're wrong. I guess the truth is that I knew, at some level, what Deborah wanted, and it scared me. So I ran. It was a lame-assed thing to do. I owe her an apology."

The highway exit was coming up, so he he didn't talk again until he was on the secondary road that went to his house. "But my being cautious in relationships, that also doesn't mean that Deborah and I were well matched... in our needs. I mean our kink needs. I've been there before – trying to make a relationship work when there just isn't a good fit between what each person needs. The compromises build up and it gets really frustrating. It's like vanilla and kink trying to stay together. Something usually comes off the tracks. People can love each other, but if they don't coexist sexually, well... I mean, it's like a woman who finally discovers her husband's gay, even though he was trying as hard as he could to be straight. They might both really love each other, but it's not a happy place to be."

He shook his head sadly and continued, "All that said, I still can't argue your point. Wanting some distance, some safety in a relationship, that's got to be part of why I'm a dom – why I like control." He shook his head. "I don't know. I've got to think about it. You should be warned though, even if I'm pretty good at figuring out other folks' needs and motivations, I'm not so good at looking at myself. In truth, I pretty much suck at it."

She grinned, "Well then it's a good thing that I'm so bashful about calling you on your shit."

He snorted and shook his head again. "Dear god," he gestured imploringly to the night sky racing past the windshield, "what manner of incubus did I invite unknowingly into my home? Please God, what could I have possibly done to deserve such a fate?"

Melissa laughed, "This little incubus will suck your very soul out of the deep recesses where you've hidden it away. And then, you dastardly fiend, your naked self will be exposed to the light of day."

"'Dastardly?' That sounds like fun. I can work with that. 'Naked soul', 'light of day'? Not so much. But dastardly is good."

Melissa paused, then asked, "Wait a second, isn't "incubus" the masculine form? I'm pretty sure you meant 'succubus'".

"Oh no! She cuts me to the quick. You're right again. Oh you awful, terrible woman. You're destroying my manhood. Shredding it, I tell you. My self-image of mastery lies in ruins about my feet. You are indeed a cruel and heartless creature."

"Yep, that's me. Vicious destroyer of puffed-up and insecure men."

"Ouch! Now that was just plain mean and nasty. Impolite, even. You'll pay for that."

"Promises, promises..."

"We're nearly home. Then we'll see."

Melissa sat back in her seat, slipping her hand up between her legs. "I can't wait," she moaned in an exaggerated tone. Then she giggled, breaking the rising sexual tension.

Erik laughed with her. In another quick shift, however, Melissa grew more pensive. Looking over at him, she said, "You may say that you don't do introspection, but when I called you on your shit, you seemed pretty damn open and honest. I don't think I've ever known a guy who didn't get all defensive and pissy, when I called him on something like that. I'm not sure what I was expecting from you, but wow! You really surprised me."

Erik felt more off-center than he liked. He was finding it hard to keep up with Melissa's shifts. He nodded, giving himself some time.

Finally he said, "I promised myself a long time ago not to lie, to myself or others. Living with my grandparents felt so... disconnected from reality, never saying what you meant, always searching for the coded meaning behind what others said. What made it really glaring was being around my uncle, who was so completely real. He showed me, by example, how important it is to listen to other people, even if what they are saying is uncomfortable. In fact, when it's uncomfortable, that's usually when it's most important to listen with an open heart. For me, an angry feeling of resistance is my cue that there's likely a truth somewhere in what the other person's saying that's really important for me to hear."

"It works for me in business too. All of us have these preconceptions, structures for how we understand the world. We tend to latch onto 'facts' that agree with an a priori understanding. And we try hard to dismiss anything that threatens our beliefs. That's a dangerous habit. I've seen lots of companies get into trouble because their leaders simply will not acknowledge that the real world isn't what they want it to be.

"So I work really hard not to fall into this trap. I'm still not always good at it, but I've mostly learned to recognize when I'm trying to avoid looking at something. I know that's when I've got to force myself to really pay attention, open my eyes wide."

Erik glanced over at Melissa to gauge her reaction. She seemed quiet, looking at the road ahead. He brought his attention back to the road as well, downshifting to negotiate curve. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, he was glad to see they were almost home. This conversation had turned far more serious than he had expected. It was not often that a woman confronted him, and certainly never this early in a relationship. He admitted to himself that no one had ever nailed him with such painful accuracy. He wouldn't let himself feel it directly, but he knew that a fearful protectiveness was coiling around his heart.

Up ahead, he saw his mailbox. Downshifting again to turn onto his entry road, he worried about what he had gotten himself into. Shaking his head, he deliberately pushed his fears and worries aside. He angrily told himself, "Bullshit. Whatever comes, I can handle it. Hell, who knows, it might even be good for me." He smiled at the thought. 

Chapter 8

Prima Noct

Melissa stepped out of the low car as gracefully as she could in her tall heels. She felt very self-conscious. Despite her brave words to Erik, confronting him had been very scary. His reaction, however, had amazed her. She had expected a blow-up and angry denials. That had been the typical response when she had tried to puncture an overblown male ego in the past. Most of the guys she had dated didn't really like a woman who spoke her mind. Unfortunately, her Irish temper made it hard for her to stay quiet when somebody was being a jerk.

Now she felt in a new place, very unsure of what came next. Erik had grown quiet at the end of the ride. She sensed he was wrestling with something. Coming up the driveway, it seemed he had come to some sort of conclusion. She wasn't certain what that resolution might be and how it would affect her.

He smiled at her and took her arm, leading her across the garage to the courtyard. His mood seemed lighter, so maybe everything really would be okay. Even if it wasn't, she reminded herself, she had the money that she had needed to have earned for the summer. She also reminded herself that she had experienced an amazing night. A sadness filled her as she contemplated whether he might break off their relationship now, and she realized that it would not only be because she would be losing him. She had glimpsed a very weird, but wonderful and intriguing world that was inhabited by some very kinky people. She was drawn to this world. A reliable guide seemed like a really good idea to help her in exploring further. It would be extremely frustrating if Erik opened up this door for her, only to run away.

Crossing the courtyard, the night air felt chill, especially after the snug warmth of the Porsche. She was immediately conscious of her nipples springing to erectness under the open lace of her dress. A slight breeze whispered through the fabric, slipping past her legs and naked labia. It was a unique feeling, walking outside in heels and a dress, while also being so naked and exposed to the night air.

She decided she liked the feeling. It was indulgently erotic, like a fantasy that she could actually live.

Erik opened the front door to the main house and led her inside. Swinging the door shut behind them, he looked around and said, "Home again, home again, jiggety-jig." Then, without warning, he swept Melissa into his arms and kissed her deeply. She was startled at first, taking several moments before slowly relaxing and letting her body mold into his. Then she kissed him back in giddy relief. Now that it was clear that he wasn't going to dump her and run away, she was able to let go of the anxious fear that she had kept bundled up tightly since confronting him.

"Now here," she told herself, "is a man I could love." The kiss lingered on, each of them exploring the other, dissolving into the other. "Oh shit," she thought, "I used the 'L' word. Can't do that! Bad girl! That way leads to the dark side."

Erik softly broke contact and stepped back, still holding her hands. "Well," he said, looking around, "where's a ball gag?"

She looked at him quizzically.

He shrugged, "You know: ball gag, soccer mom? I've got to at least show you what one looks like before you decide if it's proper apparel for today's fashion-conscious soccer mom."

She laughed, "Okay, let's take a look."

"Well then," he grinned sinisterly, "that means I've got to take you to my evil lair. That is where such things are hidden away."

"Oh!" She exclaimed in feigned shock, bringing her arms protectively up across her chest. "You naughty man."

Finding the flat of her hands lying across her erect nipples, she teasingly shifted her hands to caress and then pinch her nipples. Her eyes lidded closed as her face relaxed into pleasure. "Oh, you naughty, naughty man."

Erik chuckled, "'Twould appear I'm not the only one who's naughty. Come on then, you cruel harlot, now that you have my pants bursting at the seams. Let us be away to my den of iniquity. Succubus indeed!"

Melissa giggled, "I'm not sure that we're good for each other."

As he led them down toward the living area, Erik laughed in response. "Oh I'm very certain."

Going down the steps to the lowest level, Melissa had to concentrate carefully on walking in her heels. At first she didn't notice when he turned to the right, toward a set of open double doors. She realized that it was his bedroom. As they reached the doors, she saw that is was larger and more brightly decorated than the man-cave that she had half-expected. Even though there were a couple of man-cave style dark brown overstuffed leather chairs with large ottomans, the walls were painted a creamy yellow and there was a large, canopied, four-poster bed with a gorgeous quilt. The furniture was a warm, cherry-colored wood. The floors were honey-colored, wide-planked wood, with throw rugs.

He paused after they entered the room. She leaned into him and whispered, "It seems far too nice and cheery for a den of iniquity. This room is really beautiful."

He hugged her back. "Thank you, but this is just the outer set dressing, meant to disarm and deceive such an innocent, virginal creature as yourself."

She chuckled, "Then lead on, if you must."

"I must. I must. Before my pants can no longer contain my manhood."

She cooed, "I could help you with that."

"You are a cruel one." He paused, considering, "The only thing you missed was licking your lips."

"You mean like this?" Her tongue emerged from the corner of her mouth to trace a slow, seductive path across her lips.

"Ha! Now you have truly earned a turn with the ball gag. That'll give you something to fill that pretty mouth."

He led to his walk-in closet, which seemed to occupy most of the wall opposite the windows that looked downslope. His closet was a larger version of her's on the level above. Looking around, she saw the same plush carpeting and wood-panelling, but nothing that cried out, 'den of iniquity'. She looked at him puzzled.

He grinned back at her, a little boyish, trying and failing to hide his pride at some surprise that he had yet to reveal. He led her over to a full-length mirror in an ornate frame on the back wall. Reaching up, he felt behind the frame edge. She heard a 'click', and then the mirror surface swung fractionally back on one side. He pushed against the mirror glass, and it smoothly pivoted open, like a door.

He reached inside and flipped on a light switch, which only provided dim illumination of the space beyond.

She looked cautiously through the mirror frame at the hidden room. In the low light, the room felt spooky. The flooring was a rougher hewn version of the wide planking in the bedroom. The walls appeared to be dark stone. The ceiling was supported by large wood beams. Various pieces of furniture were scattered about in what seemed to be a large room. Some of the furniture she recognized, like an overstuffed leather couch and a low bed. Others were not as easily understood. There was some sort of bench with dark leather straps and a large dark wood 'X' shape against one wall.

"Okayyy..." she said hesitantly. "Den of Iniquity. Got it. Can we go now? I have to go run away terrified while the movie audience waits for me to get caught and gruesomely killed."

"Oh pish, posh. Your safe word still works fine. And no, we don't have to go in, if it's too much for one night."

"I, ah, it's just a little much to all take in at once. Can we go in to just look around? You can explain stuff to me?"




Summer Hire Ch. 08



"Sure." He stepped through the frame, turned, and held out his hand. "Just step through the looking glass."

She smiled at his joke, still a little uncertain. Then taking his offered hand for support, she stepped through to join him.

"Wow, it's warmer than I thought."

"And that's not even with the wall torches lit."

She looked around, trying to see where the torches hung from the wall.

He laughed, "No, sorry. I don't actually have any wall torches. That seemed a bit over the top, even for me. And not particularly safe. Although I do sometimes regret not putting them in. Some torches would definitely add atmosphere."

"Well," she said reaching out to run her hand down some chains hanging from a ceiling beam, "torches would certainly give this room that 'Spanish Inquisition' flavor that it's otherwise so sadly lacking."

He chuckled. "Indeed. It evokes a certain mood, if I don't say so myself."

She nodded in agreement, "I don't know. I say, 'why hold back?' You should have gone for the wall torches."

He laughed sheepishly, "I did have gas lines run behind the walls when it was being built, in case I changed my mind."

She shook her head, "You are incorrigible."

He grinned, "I try." Then he waved to the room. "Here, I'll give you the tour."

She nodded, feeling more comfortable, and more than a little curious.

He led her to a case of long, flat drawers. Sliding one of the drawers out, he revealed a neatly arranged collection of items. Most of the objects seemed to be fashioned from black leather, balls of brightly colored rubber, polished steel, and more leather. He brushed his hand lightly across them, stopping at one in particular, lifting it out. It was a red ball with a leather strap that went through the middle of it. One end of the strap had a polished chrome buckle and the other end of the strap had matching holes.

Showing it to her, he said, "So this is a ball gag. The ball is a medical-quality silicon rubber, so it doesn't taste nasty." He turned it over in his hand. "The bits here where the strap goes through the ball are wrapped in padded leather, so it doesn't pull too harshly on your mouth. The ball diameter is reasonable, not too huge, so it's a good gag to start with."

She followed his explanation somewhat uncertainly. It was clear to her now that a ball gag was meant to be worn in her mouth, with the strap buckled around her head. She just wasn't all that certain that she wanted to wear it.

He noted her hesitancy. "You don't seem entirely sold on the idea."

"I'm just not sure how it's... fun, or what'd it do for me. What does it do for you?"

He grinned. "I do like the look of a woman wearing a ball gag. There's... a sort of submission. The idea that she wants to make noise, but can't. For me, it's about making a woman get aroused and her wanting to cry out, but only being reduced to groans. 

"Some women love to be held at the edge of an orgasm for a long time and played with. For me, having them gagged really enhances that sort of thing. I have this sense of controlling their voice, only allowing primitive, animal grunts and groans.

"Plus, some women, and men, love wearing a ball gag. Mostly, it seems to me, it's the ones who talk a lot when they get nervous. Being gagged forces them to hold that energy inside, instead of blathering it away.

"I'll warn you, though, a ball gag isn't the most comfortable thing in the world. I think it's really a small minority of folks who truly get off on wearing one. For the most part, I think that subs wear gags simply because their masters enjoy the look. Plus, there's a certain enjoyment that a good sub gets out of purely being decorative, knowing that it's making his or her master get that much more aroused."

As he spoke, Melissa was not surprised to find herself becoming more aroused. She was slowly getting used to becoming horny from simply thinking about being submissive. His description of a sub wanting to be decorative certainly tipped her in that direction. "After all," she asked herself, "what's the point of these fucking six inch heels, if not to be decorative?"

He asked, "Do you want to try it?"

Without words, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, suppressing her shudder of excitement.

He pressed the ball gently up against her mouth. She opened wider to allow it in, surprised by how large it felt in her mouth. She wasn't sure where to put her tongue, because the ball was crowding her tongue out of the way no matter how she tried to find a comfortable place.

Laying the leather straps over each shoulder, he stepped around behind her to fasten them tight. Even with the padded edges, the strap dug against her lips and her jaw was beginning to protest at being held so widely open.

He walked back around in front of her, admiring his handiwork. "Yes indeed, you look perfectly beautiful in a ball gag." He caressed the side of her face gently. "Here," he said, softly tracing her lips with his finger, "hold your lips open, as though the gag is almost too large to contain. Let your teeth show, gripping the ball, almost like your lips are puckered-up, kissing it."

She pulled back her lips to comply and was rewarded with a very satisfied grin on his behalf. "That's truly wonderful. I really like that look. I'm not sure if it's doing anything for you, but it's definitely making me extraordinarily horny."

Melissa tried to tell him that it was okay, but the words came out very indistinctly. He grinned and nodded.

She felt her saliva pooling in her mouth, threatening to spill over her lower lip, so she wrapped her lip around the ball again. He looked puzzled and asked, "Are your lips tired already?"

She shook her head 'no' and then tipped her head back to grunt out, "Gonna drool."

Once he parsed her meaning, he smiled and reassured her, "No, no, let it come out. Drooling around a ball gag is considered very proper form. I personally find it really seductive. There's a certain sort of helplessness and vulnerability that is really arousing."

Still not certain that she believed him, she pulled back her lips, allowing her mouth-full of saliva to spill out over her lower lip and drool down her chin. There was so much of it that she felt wet drops on her breasts. She couldn't believe that drooling like this was supposed to be sexy, but the look of contentment on Erik's face told her otherwise. It was clear that he wasn't lying to her about finding it attractive.

He groaned and told her, "now I really want to put something else in that wonderful mouth."

She opened her eyes wider and nodded her agreement, but he laughed and told her, "Not too quickly. I want to play with you some more. You're the most delightful sex toy imaginable. There is so much more to explore."

Despite her disappointment about not being released from the uncomfortable gag, she felt her own sense of arousal growing, feeding off of the obvious sexual energy she was generating within him. She couldn't believe that being called a "sex toy" could make her feel so horny.

He stepped back studying her. "Hmm. The heels are great. I like the dress, but it's got to go. And the arms... bound behind the back. Yep."

Then he looked at her more directly. Stepping carefully out of the mood, he asked, "You still okay with the ball gag? Not too tight? Jaw okay?"

She nodded.

"Good. You still okay with the scene? Feeling safe?"

She nodded again.

"Okay," he said, slipping back into his demeanor as her master. "Then let's turn it up a little. To continue your tour, first, we're going to have to remove that perfectly lovely dress. I need you fully naked and vulnerable."

He stepped closer, undoing the buttons that ran down the front of her dress. She stood there quietly, trying not to let him see her trembling excitement. When he finished with the last button, he slipped the straps off her shoulders, letting her dress fall to the floor in a black lace puddle around her feet. He stroked the back of his hand down the length of her torso. She arched toward him, moaning softly.

He smiled and kissed her gently along her neck, tracing a line just above the collar she still wore, causing her to shudder.

"Oh yes. Very nice," he said in a satisfied tone. "Now lets see what we can do about those arms."

She looked down at her arms, which she had kept at her sides, as he slid open another drawer. He picked up a padded black leather cylinder with a big chrome zipper running its full length. Unzipping it, he pulled the cylinder open, stepping behind her once again. He drew her hands up, one at a time, shaping each of her hands to grasp her opposite elbow behind her back. Then he slid the leather cylinder around her lower arms, encasing them. She felt the pressure increase slightly as he pulled the zipper closed.

"It's called an arm binder," he whispered into her ear.

With her arms were trapped behind her and her back arched, she could feel her heart thumping loudly. She wasn't sure if it was panic, or arousal, or both.

He stepped beside her, grasping her leash near her collar and supporting her upper arm with his other hand to make sure that she didn't lose her balance.

"Now," he said brightly while tugging her gently forward, "let's explore the rest of the room, shall we?"

As she stepped forward to follow his lead, she felt her labia slide smoothly past each other. She was momentarily embarrassed to realize that she could actually feel her juices running down the inside of her thighs, making her legs slick as she walked. She decided that her rapid heartbeat was definitely arousal. Some fear was probably there too, but she was quickly growing desperate for any kind of of sexual release. She was amazed that being paraded like this across a room could drive her so crazy with lust, but there was no way to deny the reality of her response.

He stopped in front of a high bench, covered in padded black leather. The lower part of the bench seemed festooned with black leather straps and shiny metal buckles. The bench was less than a foot wide, and the end they were standing at narrowed to a rounded knob.

He tugged her forward so that she had to straddle the knob. Her labia slid open as the leather pushed past her. She groaned harshly against the ball gag as her clitoris slipped across smooth, wet leather. She stood, balancing on tip-toe, straddling the bench, shuddering and vibrating from the intensity of the sensation. Erik gently pressed her upper body forward and down, until her torso was lying across the cool, padded leather.

By drawing her down, he had also brought her clitoris into much firmer contact against the rounded knob. She shuddered, pressing herself down harder against the knob.

He laughed, "No, no, no. I have not yet given you permission to come."

She screamed in frustration against the gag.

"So this," he continued in a pleased tone, "is a spanking bench."

Just hearing those words nearly pushed her over the edge. She panted hard, groaning in desperate frustration at the requirement to hold back her orgasm.

He laughed again as he smacked his bare hand against one of her butt cheeks, knowing what it would do to her. She jerked and whimpered, wanting to beg him for permission to come, but unable to talk.

He spanked the other butt cheek and she whimpered even louder, vibrating in her struggle to hold her orgasm back.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I know that I am spoiling you horribly, but you are allowed to come the next time I touch you.

She gasped for air, waiting for what seemed like an eternity until he caressed her buttocks, which released a bucking, thrashing orgasm that seemed to last for minutes. Just as her jolts of release were beginning to quiet down, he resumed spanking her. She slammed against the leather padding again and again, as her body clenched in orgasmic spasm. She screamed in frustration against the gag, helpless to stop this overwhelming orgasm with her arms fastened securely behind her.

Finally, he slowed and stopped, letting her orgasm taper off. She collapsed, exhausted across the bench, chest heaving as she tried to draw air past the gag. He quickly undid the gag's buckle, letting the ball fall from her mouth. She gasped, drawing in huge gulps of air.

Then he unzipped the leather arm binder as well. Once released, her arms fell of their own accord to either side of the bench. She felt like a rag doll, completely unable to move on her own.

He stoked his hand along her head and back for a long time, as her breathing gradually slowed. Without meaning to, she drifted into sleep, sprawled across the bench. He continued to stroke her for awhile. Then, moving carefully, he picked her up in his arms. She roused to a confused wakefulness, ineffectually trying to wave her arms.

"Hush," he said quietly. "We'll save the rest of the tour for another day. Now it's time to get you to bed. You've had quite a day."

She grunted agreement, snuggling into his shoulder.

He carried her, cradled in his arms, up to her bed. Crouching down, he pulled back the covers as best he could while still holding her. Slowly, he laid her into bed. She mumbled, "Thanks." He undid her collar and slipped off her shoes. Then he pulled the covers up over her. He looked down at her for awhile and then bent over to kiss her forehead. Turning out the light, he walked softly out into the hallway. Pausing, he turned and looked back at her sleeping form, before quietly closing the door.



Summer Hire Ch. 09



Chapter 9
Morning

"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. Much 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 great 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 own needs are attended to." He chuckled, "There will be times, indeed, when we may be out and about, and I'll just stop the car, bend you over the hood, lift your dress up, 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 just 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 work-out 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 tired 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 to just help her work-out 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 while walking back to her bed to look at the exercise outfit that Erik had chosen for her. Now that she was finally, properly awake, she realized that the clothes and shoes were new, or at least they weren't anything that she had brought.

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 right. 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 would not have been fun.

The bottom, however, was more limited. 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, "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 and sat down angrily 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.

Through the sweep of the living room windows, she could see the deep shadows and bright highlights that the early morning sun cast 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 material of the patio and sitting wall beyond the windows. She was taken aback to realize that 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 with their 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 astonishing 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 discretely, she walked into the dining area. Erik turned from his reading, a smiled broadening across his face. "You are indeed a beautiful woman. It is such a joy to have you in my home."

Melissa knew that she was blushing. He could say things that caught her so off guard, it took her breath away. 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 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 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 own 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 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 courtyard and 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 continuation of the entry road, wrapping partway around the hill.

As they walked, they passed two beautiful small courtyards and 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 structures all together, none of them very large, but the sum of all of them made a huge house for one man.

He gestured at a couple of the buildings as they passed, pointing out his wood shop, 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 a stone and wood structure that was set into the rising slope of the hill and formed 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 is where we'll meet Mistress Amy. You'll do well to remember to only call her 'Mistress' or 'Mistress Amy'. She's a more... exacting dom than I am. Well, 'Dominatrix' is actually the proper term. 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 is 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 at range, 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 helping 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 tuned 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, Amy motioned her over to a scale. Mistress Amy instructed Melissa to take off her clothes and shoes. With a grimace, Melissa complied. While Amy waited, she tapped on the face of a small data pad. 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 Melissa 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 to be 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 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'. 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 is," Mistress Amy continued, "you've got a decent chance that the increase in breast fluid will offset the loss of fat and you won't wind up with any net change. 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 you're having 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 herself 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 somethings 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 it is and how many times you say 'no', that might mean quitting and going back to your vanilla life, but that is absolutely your choice, and it's a valid choice, any time 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 own personal health. You can'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 own 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 quite specifically 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 knew exactly what the expectations are."

Amy paused and looked 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."





Summer Hire Ch. 09



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 finally grazed along the cleft between Melissa's buttocks, it was all that Melissa could do not 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. Mistress Amy smiled at how her Melissa's nervousness had clamped her sphincter shut as though with steel bands. 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.

Mistress Amy smiled as she felt the tension in Melissa's sphincter relaxing. Massaging Melissa's front with one hand, Mistress Amy worked the lube into Melissa's ass with her other hand, 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 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 own 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 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 the thong on. The front dildo had a small protrusion that lay between her labia, reaching up to overlap her clitoris.

Once she got her thong on 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 in any case.

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 did not 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 breath.

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 like she was.

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, put the vibration level in the dildos slowly ebbed away.

Groaning in frustration, she leapt 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 to just 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 then "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, stumbled over to the final apparatus, laid facedown on the bench, pulled her numb legs under the bar, and began to lift the bar with her lower legs back toward her buttocks. Tears of frustration poured off her cheeks 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. Unfortunately, that's a specialty of Mistress Amy." Serena waited for awhile, but got no further response from Melissa. Then she continued, "At a guess, I'd say you went all out too early on, 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 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 halfway 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 and at first, the pressure really 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 meant 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 an intensity in what you're experiencing that little tantric orgasms like 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 last 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 and let 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 relying a little on the railing to steady herself. Serena joined her and 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. Then she worked on easing Melissa's sore muscles. Fortunately, the whirlpool and orgasms seemed to have taken care of most of her tension already. She 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.




Summer Hire Ch. 09



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, "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 as an intense experience as what you had with 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 have done you real damage. Still could, for that matter."

Eric grimaced for a moment, "I am your dom. Your master. You have given me 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 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, which suggested 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. And he also had 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, on the other hand, was not nearly as graceful as either Amy or Erik. Serena seemed to be a "what you see is what you get" kind of girl. Suddenly, Melissa wondered how she looked to the others. All those 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 really 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, "Oh boy, gagging down more cum. She can go first." She 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, 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 folks I know. Oh, I'm 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 really 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 really has. The whole thing doesn't work without the sub really 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 dom like that."

Melissa smiled at Serena's enthusiasm. After a moment, Melissa responded, "I think I see 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 own 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; I 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, "Oh boy, 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 remind you." He turned and walked back out, calling over his shoulder to Melissa, "Your clothes are out here."




Summer Hire Ch. 09



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 accomplished 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 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, 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 off 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. "Thats 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 a sort of '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 guess if it was just a date, like the two of us together, maybe I wouldn't bill him. But that's not really the way I work with him. He brings me in for something like this, or for a scene with other people. I mean, I really am a massage therapist and some of my income is straight up that way, but I make a lot more off of folks like Erik.

"You see, I swing both ways, sub and dominatrix. 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 also 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. Great. Deborah's pretty cool. Maybe wrapped kind of tight, a lot like Erik. I was really sorry they didn't last longer together. But you're different. More... I don't know... real, right here. I mean, Deborah's fun, 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. There are 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!"



Summer Hire Ch. 10



Chapter 10
Lunch

Melissa looked in a mirror that was hanging in the salon's vestibule as she walked out to the sidewalk with Erik. They were holding hands. The cut and style that Henri had given her was bolder and more sophisticated than anything she would have tried on her own. One of his assistants had taken her through how to duplicate the style on her own, twice, starting from a fresh shampoo. The repeated instruction had been a little tedious, but she was glad they had been careful to make sure she could repeat it.

The salon's make-up stylist had also taught her daytime and evening make-up, and then loaded her up with supplies. Combined with the haircare products the styling assistant had given her, and the polishes and UV cure light that the manicurist had given her, she carried a bulging bag that they had given her in her free hand.

Melissa was glad that Erik seemed very pleased with the result. She had to admit that she liked the result as well. At first, she had been worried that they were going to try to turn her into some 'make-over' fashion model wanna-be. But, to her surprise, the ending point wasn't terribly different from where she had started, just somehow much more elegant.

The daytime make-up that she had on was actually more understated than what she had used at other times. Thinking about the last several days, Melissa realized it was ironic that she had hardly worn any make-up around Erik before now. There just hadn't been any time, or she wasn't in the mood. In her resentment about showing up at his house on Sunday, she'd waited until the last minute to pack and hadn't had any time for make-up.

Thinking back to her confused feelings while she was packing, she was surprised how different she felt now. It seemed as though she had gone to a foreign country on vacation. The sense of foreignness reminded her of one winter break in college when she and some girlfriends had gone to a resort in the Caribbean. Their regular world had disappeared. Instead, there was this fun new place to explore. She didn't have to worry about anything and all these friendly people were taking care of her.

Melissa wished she could relax now and enjoy all these new experiences more, but the whole 'sex slave' role made her nervous. She wasn't sure how she was expected to behave, or if she wanted to behave that way, whatever 'that way' was. Talking with Serena and Deborah had helped, but those conversations had also raised as many questions as they answered.

Even though Serena seemed quite content in her role, Melissa couldn't quite get away from seeing Serena as a high-priced whore, at least in part. But if that was true, Melissa wasn't sure what she was. It did seem clear that 'sex slave' wouldn't look good on her résumé.

All through college, she had fought against her 'bad girl' desires and behavior. Even though she had given in far too many times, to walk on what she thought of as 'the dark side', she'd never thought she would sign up to be somebody's private whore. 

Full of uncertainty, she glanced over at Erik as they walked to the car. He didn't treat her as a whore. Of course, he didn't treat Serena that way either. It was frustrating. Melissa didn't know how to make sense of it all.

Erik looked over at her, feeling her attention on him. He observed, "You're being quiet."

"Yeah... it's all so much at once... and so different. Sitting in the salon, I had a chance to think about... everything, but it still doesn't really make sense. I'm not sure how I fit into this world of yours."

He smiled reassuring, then tilted his head to the side, acknowledging his own uncertainty, "Truth is, I don't know either. My plan is for us to just feel our way through, and find out what seems right. I know that may not be the most reassuring thing for me to say... and I can pretty much guarantee we'll screw up a few times along the way... but, the thing is, it doesn't worry me too much. It's like what you pointed out this morning; you're not made of porcelain. I know you're right. I'm pretty sure we'll survive the inevitable missteps. At the end of the day, I've got a sense that there's something real here, something good, and I really want to see where it goes. So, I don't worry too much. For now, I'm simply happy to be here, with you."

Melissa felt her breath catch at his willingness to put such feelings right out there. She was also a little wary about his casual confidence about how to proceed. This whole adventure felt like such a monumental risk, and he was so nonchalant about it.

He saw she still seemed unsettled, so he said, "Here, let's throw your stuff in the car and have a quiet lunch in the village."

She nodded, suddenly finding herself unsure if she could speak without tears. She didn't know where these feelings were coming from, but she was feeling assaulted by too many things at once. She felt simultaneously happy and fragile. She wondered if she had lied. Maybe she really was porcelain.

Erik had stopped, standing next to a deep blue sports car that she didn't remember seeing in his garage. The car was bigger and lower than his Porsche. It looked like something that James Bond would drive. Erik beeped the key fob to open the trunk and she quietly put her bag in.

He watched her and asked, "Are you okay? Do you need a minute?"

She nodded 'yes', closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. The expansion of her rib cage made her suddenly aware of her breasts straining against the fabric of her sundress. She burst out laughing, not entirely sure at first if it was hysteria or just a release of the tension. Finally settling down to a chuckle, she realized that she felt much calmer and decided that she'd simply needed to release all the tension that had accumulated.

He smiled, a little puzzled.

She explained, "I'm not used to going around without a bra. All of a sudden, it seemed... sort of silly, at a point where I desperately needed silly."

He nodded, "Good. Silly is good. I don't usually have enough silly in my life."

"Well, you do sort of have a dry sense of humor."

He smiled, "Guilty as charged." Then he closed the trunk and offered her his arm, "Shall we?"

"Lead on, MacDuff."

Erik said quietly, mostly to himself, "And damned be him who first cry, 'hold, enough.'" Melissa recognized the Macbeth reference, although she wasn't sure why it left her vaguely unsettled.

The restaurant turned out to be a short walk away. The small town that Erik called a 'village' really did feel like a small country village, spread out along the bank of an old mill stream. On the drive into the hair salon, Serena had told her the village was indeed an old mill town, but one whose present day 'industry' was shops catering to the local well-to-do. Serena and Melissa had passed a saddlery on the way in, which Serena mentioned ran a thriving side business making custom leather goods for kinky rich customers.

When they walked into the restaurant, Melissa saw the back wall was mostly windows, overlooking the large stream flowing lazily by. There was a small deck outside, which seemed to overhang the water. Despite being a Monday, the restaurant was moderately crowded. An older woman bustled over, her energy at odds with her grey hair and stoutness. Erik called out, "Nina, I'd like you to meet Melissa."

Nina gave them a broad smile, "It's a pleasure! Welcome to the Haymarket Inn." She turned to Erik, "It's so nice to see you with such a lovely young woman." Turning back to Melissa, she added, "He eats alone far too much."

Erik laughed, "It's because I enjoy your food too much to stay away, simply for the lack of a dinner companion. Besides, I like eating by myself. I always bring a good book."

With a 'humph', Nina picked up two menus and turned to lead them out to the deck, muttering as she walked, "I'd pick her over some book."

Erik shot Melissa a grin. He was shaking his head, protesting Nina's comment, but his eyes twinkled in agreement.

They reached a table in the corner of the deck, near the railing. Nina said, "The day warmed up nicely. Let me know if it gets too hot for you in the sun, I can pull an umbrella over." She paused a moment to look at Melissa's fair skin, "On second thought, I'll tell Claudia to bring an umbrella over when she comes out." To Melissa, she said, "You look like you burn, rather than tan."

Melissa grinned back, "It's my Irish blood. I do eventually tan, but I have to be really careful about not burning first. Thank god, I don't get freckles."

"Well, let's see if we can't keep you from burning today." With that, Nina turned and hurried away.

Melissa laughed, "Wow, she's full of energy."

Erik agreed, "That's for sure. She puts it to good use, though. This is a great place. Her partner, Leslie, runs the kitchen. She's an awesome chef."

"Do you mean business partner, or 'partner' partner?"

"Both."

"Oh my God, they're not part of your kink community too?"

He laughed, shaking his head, "No, no. I'm not sure whether they're kinky or not in their own home, but they don't have anything to do with my BDSM crowd."

"Uh, that's a relief. It's nice that you know some straight folks."

"Uh, well she's not actually straight, but yeah, it's definitely a vanilla world out there. I live in it too. The truth is, most of my time, I'm deeply imbedded in the vanilla world."

She looked at him, a little puzzled, so he explained further, "Most of the year, I'm gone for months at a time to work with one company or another. Those assignments tend to be these very intense, 24/7 sorts of engagements. I don't have much time to go exploring a new town, certainly not to find the sort of community connections I've managed to build up around here.

"Plus, a lot of the companies I work with are in small towns where word travels fast. Even if I had a vanilla relationship, it could complicate my work. People in these towns tend to get pretty riled up over a guy who comes in, changes everything around, lays off and fires lots of folks. A bondage and discipline relationship... if it came out that I like beating women, that could lead to some seriously bad things."

Melissa nodded, "I can see where 'beating women' could be misunderstood. Hell, I still have problems wrapping my head around it. A lot of the time, I'm seriously uncomfortable with the idea that I like being spanked and whipped."

"Yeah, It's a hard transition to make. I've always thought it's a little bit like when gay people first discover they're gay. It's not a comfortable thing to face, but the persistent reality of the feelings... that reality eventually eats away at what had seemed like rock-solid beliefs... for most folks, at least. I guess some folks stay in denial. Others... not so good."

He gave her a quick grin and continued, "I suspect for you, especially with all those old 'good Catholic girl' messages, there's bound to be some guilt and shame to deal with in enjoying all this kink stuff. Of course, it's not as though the Catholic church has a leg to stand on about sexual morality, not after all that priest pedophile crap. In the BDSM world — at least in everything I do — safe, sane, and consensual is an absolute requirement, and it's always, always with adults."

Melissa looked down at her napkin, hesitant to bring up the fear that the beginning of his conversation had reawakened for her, "Ah, talking about the gay thing... last night, ah, you and Michael, I guess, where do you..."

Seeing her struggle, he jumped in, "I suspect I'm in the same place that you were with Deborah or Serena." He laughed easily, "For me, making out with a guy isn't the first thing I'd want to do. On the other hand, I'm not dead set against it. There's times when it simply feels right, or even fun. Michael's definitely much more bisexual than me. He loves having a man go down on him. Last night... you and Deborah were sort of occupied. I could see Michael was horny as hell. He's a good friend, so it just seemed like the right thing to do."

Melissa nodded thoughtfully. After a moment, Erik continued, "From what I see of most guys, our sexual orientation seems to generally be more narrowly drawn than it is for most girls. I'm not sure why. As best I can tell from the research I've read, the mechanics for how sexual orientation gets set in utero seems to work a little differently for guys and girls... genes, hormones, whatever. Anyway, the result is that women generally have a softer boundary between hetero and homo."

He laughed, "Or maybe that's just what homophobic guys want to believe. One thing that did grab my interest, though, was some research showing a positive correlation between bisexual orientation and greater proclivity towards kinky sex, as well as having more sex in general. Of course, that research labelled 'kinky sex' as 'deviant', and threw in stuff like pedophilia. Yuck.

"Anyway, I'd definitely be willing to believe that people who are into kink are also more likely to be open to polysexuality, and that they'd have a higher sex drive. It certainly matches my experience in the kink community."

Melissa, sat back, looking at Erik with a puzzled expression. Then she asked, "So is that what you do for fun... read academic research on sex?"

Eric grinned, "Yep. Well, that and archeology. Hey, when I'm hanging out in a rental apartment in some remote town, trying to turn some stupid-assed company around, there's not much else to do for relaxation. I exercise every day. I already explained why I don't date. My problem is that at night, I've got to have a way of distracting my mind, so I can fall asleep. Reading academic studies is a great way of doing that."

Melissa snorted in agreement, "Tell me about it. That shit will put me to sleep, every time." She shook her head. "Still, it was really weird seeing you and Michael. I mean, in mainstream media, you see women making out together lots more than two guys."

"True, but Michael was really horny and I like knowing that I can get a friend off that way. Plus, it makes me feel like less of a hypocrite, I mean when I have a woman deep throat me."

"About that deep throat thing..."

At that moment, a waitress came over and pushed an umbrella over to shade them. She apologized, "I'm sorry it took me so long. I was held up in the kitchen." She reached into her apron and pulled out a bottle of San Pellegrini water. "Here you go Mr. Greenwood, mam." She opened the bottle and filled their water glasses. "Do you already know what you want?"

Erik said, "I do, but I suspect Miss Conlin may need a minute."

Melissa quickly replied, "I'm starving." She quickly scanned the menu that Nina had given her. "I'll take the chicken salad croissant."

Erik added, "I'll have the venison ragout and wild rice."

Claudia wrote their order and asked, "Do you want anything anything else to drink?"

Melissa said, "Do you have unsweetened ice tea?"

"Sure."

Erik said, "That sounds good, make it two."

Claudia nodded, "I'll get the food out as quickly as I can. Thank you sir, miss." Then she hurried away.

Erik and Melissa shared a smile over the waitress' odd mixture of formality and abruptness.

Melissa then asked, "Does everyone call you mister, sir, master, or Mr. Greenwood?"

Erik sighed. Melissa thought he looked pensive and perhaps even sad. Embarrassed, she quickly added, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

Erik reassured her, "No, it's okay. It's true. It's just something about the way I am. And yeah... it can be a little lonely." He was quiet for a while longer, then said, "My friends call me Erik. My uncle used to call me Erikie. Sometimes, he still does." He gave her a smile, "Times like this, when we're not in some sort of scene, you should call me Erik. It doesn't have to always be 'Master'."

Melissa reached across the table to take his hand, "Thanks Erik, I'd like that."

Erik squeezed her hand in return, "I'd like it too." He looked off at the river for a moment, clearing his throat. Melissa wasn't sure if his eyes had watered up for a moment. Then he turned back, continuing in a much lighter tone, "So anyway, the deep throat thing. First off, some people simply can't do it. They just can't get past the gag reflex. Or they can't stand the feel of something blocking their throat. Serena, I know, has tried really hard, but she just can't get there, at least on her own. If she's got a client who's really into it and it's worth it to her, she'll use a numbing throat spray, but she hates it."

He smiled, "I used a special soft dildo to practice. The big silicone jobs are just too hard."

Melissa looked at him in amazement and motioned him to explain further. He smiled, "Well, it takes practice. I didn't want to throw-up the first time I tried it for real. That definitely puts a dent in the mood. So, I sat in a comfortable chair, tilted my head back, and... practiced. Mostly it's like what I was trying to talk you through last night. Hold the dildo right up to the point where your gag reflex starts, but no further. Let your body get used to it. For a lot of folks, playing with themselves, masturbating, provides a distraction from the need to gag.

"Anyway, once my gag reflex quietened down, I slid it a little further in, until that gag feeling came back. Then I'd stop and wait for that to die down. For me, it didn't take too long until I could hit the back of my mouth.

"There's a turn there, at the back of your mouth, and your throat gets narrower, which is, of course, why it feels so great for a guy when he jams his dick back there. It's nice and tight and wet. Which reminds me, make sure you get whatever's going back there good and wet first. A dry dick and deep throating — that's a seriously bad combination. Been there; done that; ouch! I mean, truly, ouch!

"Anyway, once you've got it wet, to get past the back of the mouth, two things are really important. First, you've got to straighten out that bend in your throat. Mostly, that's just finding a way to tilt your head back, so that the opening of your mouth lines up with your neck, at least as much as you can.

"The second problem is the narrowness of your throat. When something big is trying to push down your throat, all of your instinct is constrict your throat, sure as hell not open up. There's a couple of tricks. First, keep your tongue low in your mouth and push it forward, even over your front teeth; that's okay. When your tongue is low and forward, your throat opening stretches open a little wider. The second trick is to act like you're yawning. When you yawn, all those muscles in your neck pull everything open as wide open as possible.

"And that's it, really. Get it wet, straighten out the angle at the back of your mouth, tongue low and front, yawn, don't gag, and down it goes. It just takes a lot of practice."

Melissa still wasn't completely convinced, "Okay... I guess it doesn't sound too hard. I did kind of get you down some of my throat last night. Of course, I almost barfed too, I mean the second time."

"Yeah, well I probably made it sound too easy. When I was practicing, on at least two occasions, I did the full, get down on my hands and knees, upchuck thing. I'd be sitting there, thinking I was doing fine, and then I'd push just a little bit too far or too fast, and pow!"

"Thanks for the warning," she said wryly.

"Hey, like I said, I learned to deep throat because I figured if I was going to ask for it, I should be willing to do it." He shrugged, then added, "Oh, one more thing. Since most people don't do deep throat every day, it's important to have a way to keep practicing how to control your gag reflex. What I do is that every time I brush my teeth, I brush the back of my tongue and the top back of my mouth, you know, the soft part around the opening to your throat. The scratchiness of the toothbrush really gives your gag reflex a serious workout." Melissa grimaced and Erik nodded agreement. "But, that sort of constant practice makes it much easier to just effortlessly go down on somebody. Plus, I'll give you that soft dildo I talked about, so you can practice on your own. Make time to do that twice a day, and you'll be there in no time.




Summer Hire Ch. 10



Erik laughed, "Deborah's the one who taught me that. She loves amazing people by being able to just lean over and take a guy all the way in. She makes it look completely casual, but she does lots of stuff to get ready that folks don't see. For instance, she curls her tongue up and around to the back of her mouth to make sure her gag is under control, and she's got a trick for repeatedly pressing her tongue down against her soft pallet, which acts like some sort of saliva pump. That way, she can get her mouth full of saliva to lubricate the guy as she takes him in.

"You'll have to talk to her about all the details, but just casually taking a guy in like that, until her mouth slams up against his torso, I've got to tell you that never fails to really floor people."

"Okay... I suppose that's a good party trick," Melissa said with sarcasm overlaying her words.

Erik stopped short, and looked at her quizzically. Melissa felt a little embarrassed and defensive about her sarcastic tone. She found herself growing uncomfortable with how he was staring at her.

After a moment, he asked, "Does talking about sex embarrass you?"

Her reply snapped out, "It's not just sex, it's pretty damn extreme stuff."

He didn't react to her angry tone. He quietly repeated, "Does talking about sex embarrass you?"

She gathered her breath, readying an even angrier blast. Then she paused, considering his question. She knew he was right. She blew out the breath she'd been holding and answered, "Yeah, it embarrasses me."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Okay. The thing is, sex is a big part of your job description. You're supposed to be learning about sex, exploring, practicing. So that means talking about sex is also simply part of the job."

He waited a moment, and saw her nod slowly, accepting what he had said. Then he continued, "At a whole different level, though, even if you decide to go back to a vanilla lifestyle, I think that being able to talk about sex with someone you love is a really, really important skill. I can't imagine having a meaningful relationship with someone, where communication about something as important as sex is completely forbidden. Does that seem right to you?"

Melissa shook her head, suddenly fighting back tears again. She didn't know why her emotions were so raw. She didn't usually lose it like this.

Erik smiled reassuringly, covering her hands with his. "I'm sorry, I know it's a lot, and it's happening sort of fast."

She nodded in agreement, taking a ragged breath and recovering a little.

He looked off in the distance, as though he were pondering something, then continued, "Okay, so talking about sex, and having sex in front of other people, especially kinky sex – these are all hot-buttons, yes?"

She agreed, "Yes."

A sly smile crept around his lips, "I guess I'll call off the other guests for tonight and keep it to just you, Serena, and me."

Melissa's eyes grew large in horror, "There were more?"

"Hey, you seemed pretty comfortable last night, in public." His tone was light, gently teasing her.

"But..."

"Yeah, I know. We were in a quiet corner of a private kink club. It wasn't actually all that public." He grinned, "As for tonight, the truth is that I hadn't invited anyone else over. Sorry, I was just jerking your chain. Hell, even having Serena join us was a spur of the moment thing."

Melissa let herself relax, breathing more easily. Erik continued, "I have to warn you though, now that we know you've got an issue about being publicly on display, I'll have to find ways to test it, play with it." Melissa's eyes narrowed in warning. He laughed softly, "Hey, anything that causes you to have such a strong reaction, that's a thing that holds a lot of power for you, which means it's something you want to take control of; you want to own it as yours." She gave him an ironic smile in return. He laughed and added, "Plus, I'll have all sorts of fun helping you get over these inhibitions."

"Oh thank you ever so much, your heartless fucking bastard, sir."

"Oh, you're most certainly welcome." At that moment, Erik spotted Claudia coming toward them with two plates. He said merrily, "Look, here's lunch."

Melissa growled under her breath.



Summer Hire Ch. 11



Chapter 11
Afternoon

After lunch, they walked for a few minutes around the village, looking in shop windows. Erik checked the time and said, "We've got a little while longer before we're supposed to meet Cathy. Let's walk a bit more."

Melissa laughed, "Assuming my legs keep on working, after my morning session with your personal bitch goddess."

Erik was quiet for a moment, then said more seriously, "Let me caution you. In the world you now inhabit, comments like that are not considered courteous, at the very least. Mistress Amy is a far more traditional domme, certainly compared to how I conduct myself as a dom.

"She agreed to train you as a personal favor to me. From her general point of view, my approach to being a dom is... well, offensive, to tell the truth. She believes that I encourage lazy, sloppy habits in a sub. And she has told me, in very direct language, that she thinks I ruin subs by spoiling them."

"But why did you want her to train me?"

"Because I'm convinced that you are truly a sub, down to your bones. And I think that you will eventually find your home in this world. Plus, I think Mistress Amy is right, at least in part. I am a very lenient dom. If you only learned from me, you'd be poorly prepared for doms like Mistress Amy."

"I don't think I'd like to be a sub to anyone like her. Besides, I'm with you, remember?"

"Yes, but we will spend some time in the wider world of my BDSM friends. You'll need to learn how a sub is expected to behave."

"Okay. I guess. But, well, can you give me an example?"

"Sure. Last night, you wore my collar and leash. That is a traditional way of marking a sub who is owned, who has a master. The leash, however, was short, and I left it loose most of the night. It was more symbolic. Traditionally, I would have led you on the leash. If I had let go of the leash at any point in time, you would have immediately gone to a kneeling position and waited for me take take the leash again."

Melissa listen, simultaneously horrified and aroused by his description.

"The other big difference about how Mistress Amy would have expected you to behave last night is how you looked all around you. A slave attends to her master, and nothing else exists. When we were walking, you should have only looked straight ahead, never focusing on another person or thing. A slave relies on her master to lead her on a clear path. You simply follow. When we stop, you should cast your eyes down.

"To be a slave is to step outside of normal human interaction. A slave is something 'other', something special. In the BDSM world, it is considered very impolite to talk to somebody else's slave, unless you have the owner's permission. If somebody tries to talk to you, you should ignore them. You only exist for your master."

Melissa was amazed, "Wow, that seems pretty loaded."

"It is. There is a surprising amount of sexual power in the rules for formal BDSM social interaction. My guess is that the first time we go to a scene like that, you'll be drenching wet the whole night."

Melissa shot a shocked look at him, not sure how to feel about his prediction. He grinned and chuckled, "You'll see. I bet you're wet right now, just listening to me talk about it."

Melissa opened her mouth to protest, but before she could, he grabbed her hand, saying, "Let's go in here." They entered a vintage clothing shop. The only salesperson in sight was helping another customer. Erik gave the young woman a friendly smile and led Melissa toward the back of the shop. With his free hand, he picked a yellowing linen lace blouse from a rack as they walked past, saying, "See, here's the one I was telling you about." Then he ducked into the dressing room vestibule, with her in tow. There were only two small dressing rooms, both open. He pulled her into the far one, closing the door behind them.

He hung the blouse on a hook, then gathered both her hands in his. Pulling her wrists together, he took them in one hand and lifted her hands up above her head, pinning her to the wall behind her.

She moaned softly in protest. He commanded her, "Spread your legs apart."

She was too dumbfounded to immediately comply. He repeated himself, slower, his voice dropping to a much lower pitch. "Spread. Your legs. Apart."

This time she followed his instructions. With his free hand, he reached under the front of her dress and plunged a finger directly inside her. As he had predicted, she was slippery wet. He pressed his finger upward against her G-spot, lifting her onto her toes. A shaky moan of desire escaped her lips. To silence her, Erik kissed her full on the mouth, his tongue insistently probing her mouth. She responded energetically, arching into him and pressing back with her tongue, searching out the inner reaches of his mouth.

Then his finger was gone. She whimpered with desperate need. She felt, rather than heard, his zipper being drawn down. Suddenly, he was inside her. Pinned against the wall, she was lifted up off the floor. She wrapped her legs around him, locking one one foot around her opposite ankle, so she could hold onto him. He pushed her back into the wall in a steady, rising rhythm.

Her breath shortened, heart pounding. She only wanted him deeper and deeper. Their motion grew too frenetic to maintain a kiss. He broke away and clamped a hand across her mouth, keeping her quite. His other hand still held her arms, pinned above her.

She exploded into a climax, screaming against his palm, while her hips bucked against him. She could feel his jetting release, pulsing into her, each spurt lengthening her own orgasm.

Finally, they collapsed against each other. He let her slide down the wall, until she slumped, half sitting, half kneeling in front of him. He leaned hard against the opposite wall, catching his own breath.

He was startled when she took his spent penis in her mouth, licking and sucking it clean.

He chuckled, "See. I was right. You were wet."

She popped his clean penis out of her mouth and replied, "Yeah, well now I'm really wet." She looked down and laughed briefly. "And I'm leaving a big wet spot on the carpet. Well, at least it's their carpet and not the back of my dress – which is quite lovely by the way. Thank you."

"The pleasure is all mine."

She leaned her head back against the wall, looking up at him. "You sure about that? I kind of recall having my own orgasm just now."

"Ah yes, and a splendid thing it was. But you see, it was an orgasm I deigned to give to you, because that gave me pleasure as well." Then he pushed away from the wall, giving her a hand up.

Melissa took a step toward the door and stopped as she felt a rush of warm liquid running down the inside of her thigh. "Oh! I really am soaked. It's pouring out of me."

Erik reached down and wiped his hand up along the inside of her thighs, scooping up their combined juices. He raised his hand to his face, breathing in the fragrance of their sex. "Now that is perfectly wonderful." He offered his hand to her to smell, "Here."

Somewhat dubious, she bent forward to sniff the wetness of his hand. The smell was lighter than she had expected, very earthy, salty, and perhaps even a little sweet. She sensed that the pheromones wafting out of that wetness were making a deeper, more primitive connection somewhere inside her. Smelling their two juices mingled together gave her a feeling of connection and strength. She was suddenly flooded with a feeling of being special to him. Her heart yearned for yet a deeper connection.

She quickly steeled herself against being carried away. "Down girl," she told herself firmly. She smirked at her teenaged infatuation, glad that he couldn't see her expression while her face was still tilted over his hand. Sternly, she reminded herself, "I'm his sex slave, not his girlfriend." Knowing what a sex slave should do, she reached up and took his hand in hers, licking him clean while she turned his hand back and forth.

The taste wasn't terrible, but her emotional state was deeply bittersweet. Forcing herself to adopt a lighter mood, she looked up at him. "There you go. All ready?"

He smiled, although an edge of concern was evident around his eyes, as though he had sensed her mood. "Almost." He reached down to zip himself up and then he snatched the linen blouse off the hook.

They walked out of the dressing room together. She was grateful the vestibule of the dressing room was still empty. Walking back into the main part of the shop, they saw the sales clerk waving goodbye to her other customer. The clerk turned, "Oh there you are. Did you find what you wanted?"

Erik handed the saleswoman the blouse and reached for his wallet, "Yes, it's perfect. Just what I've been looking for. For a long time."



* * *



When they stepped out of the shop, Erik looked around and then checked the time again. "We still have a few more minutes, let's go this way." He took Melissa's hand and set off down the sidewalk. She walked quietly alongside, soaking in the sunshine and trying to settle her feelings.

After a couple of minutes of walking, Erik asked, "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, just trying to get used to all this."

"It's a lot, I know. Hopefully, your shopping trip with Cathy will be relaxing. Do you like shopping?"

"I'm a girl. Recreational shopping is a favorite way to decompress. Of course, I'm not used to actually being able to buy much."

"Well, I hope that coming back with full bags won't be too traumatic. Since we're killing time in the village, are you up for one more thing that might stretch you a bit, or do you really need to have some downtime?"

She pursed her lip, considering. "As long as it's not to intense, I guess it might be a fun distraction."

Erik nodded thoughtfully. "We can keep it lighter." He pointed at the saddlery shop down the block. "Let's get you fitted for some leathers."

She wasn't sure what all would be involved, but trusting his promise to keep it lighter, she said, "Sure."

When they walked into the shop, a little bell tinkled over the door. She was immediately aware of the smell of leather. The front room had several saddles displayed on stands. One side wall held a wide variety of boots. The opposite wall had bridles, harnesses, and all sorts of equipment she could only guess at.

A young man came out from the back room. He was gorgeous, in a lean, dark-haired, elfin sort of way. His movements were unselfconsciously graceful. He seemed to almost flow to a stop in front of them, ending in a brief half-bow. "Hello Master Erik. I'm afraid Master Drexler just stepped out for lunch. Shall I call him, or may I be of service to you?"

Erik replied, "I'm confident that you'll be able to assist us. I only need to get my new slave measured for a harness, and possibly a cuirass with pauldrons, vambraces, and greaves."

Remembering what Erik had told her about etiquette, Melissa squelched her reaction. Instead of turning to look at him in puzzlement, she stayed quietly by his side, still looking ahead, not focusing at anything in particular.

The young man came forward. "Certainly Master Erik. I would be happy to help you. Please, come this way."

Even though Melissa kept her eyes straight ahead, she could sense in her peripheral vision that the shop worker had only looked at Erik. The clerk had only spoken to Erik as well, as though she didn't exist. Ordinarily, if a salesperson treated her this way when she was out with a man, she would get really irritated. Today, it felt somehow very different. "Perhaps," she wondered, "it's because they're talking about me." Even though she was being treated as an object, in this context, it was somehow really arousing.

"God," she thought, "I'm still dripping down my thighs from the other shop. This is embarrassing. How could I ever hold my head up around Professor Maklin again?"

Her undergraduate Women's Studies class with Professor Jill Maklin had really opened up her eyes about all the sacrifices women had made to reach their present level of equality, and how fragile that position could be. At this moment, she felt terribly guilty for betraying women, and even more shameful because it made her feel so horny.

Erik asked, "I forget your name, slave?"

Melissa's eyes flew open, angry. The clerk answered, "Joseph, Master Erik."

Melissa froze her angry reaction, forcing herself to continue walking with Erik into the back room. "Joseph is a slave too?" she asked herself. "Of course, he is. He called Erik 'master', plus he was so deferential. Not just a fawning salesperson. A slave. Somebody else's sex slave. Wow."

Melissa took a quick peak to double check that Joseph was really a man. He seemed so beautiful and graceful, she hadn't really been certain. A close inspection of his butt as he walked in front of them, however, convinced her that he really was male.

Then she saw Erik noticing how she was staring at Joseph. She quickly fixed her eyes blankly ahead. In her peripheral vision, she caught the beginning of a grin on Erik's face.

Joseph led them into a large dressing room, which had a raised dais in the middle. It reminded Melissa of a wedding shop that she had visited when she was a bridesmaid. This dressing room, however, was decorated in browns and tans, and decorated with horse prints.

Once Joseph pulled the door shut behind them, he gracefully sank to his knees, clasped his arms behind his back, and bowed his head. Melissa struggled not to gape at the fluid beauty of his movement, along with the strangeness of seeing a man in this submissive pose.

With his head still bowed, Joseph addressed Erik, "Master Erik, your slave will need to be undressed."

Erik nodded in agreement, "Of course. Please assist her."

Joseph rose effortlessly, "Yes Master Erik." Joseph walked behind Melissa. She stood very still. Joseph's touch was so light that, at first, the only indication she had of being unzipped was the sound of the zipper. Then she felt the slight give of the fabric around her bust as the back of her dress fell open.

Joseph ran his fingers up under the dress's shoulder straps and she couldn't help but shiver. He lifted the straps from her shoulders, easing the dress forward and down, carefully gathering it up so that it did not fall on the floor. He held it for her, letting her step out of it.

Melissa stood naked in her wedge sandals, while he carefully hung her dress on a clothes rack. She was very conscious of dribbles of moisture running down the inside of her left thigh. She suspected it was a little bit of Erik's remaining contribution, reawakened by the sudden increase in her own juices. Surprisingly though, rather than being embarrassed, she found herself standing proudly. She was Erik's submissive, marked by his semen and her own arousal. In this moment, the combination felt right.

Joseph walked back between them, kneeling down again. "Master Erik, your slave will need to stand in the middle of the dais."

Erik crossed to one of the leather chairs along the wall and sat down casually. "Yes, yes, of course, but before you measure her, clean her up, will you?"

"Certainly Master Erik."

Melissa stood still, uncertain what she should do. Erik made a waving motion to her, indicating she should step up on the dais, so she did. Her movement caused a fresh run stream of moisture to drip down her thigh, nearly reaching her knee. Now she began to feel a little embarrassed. She carefully looked straight ahead, keeping her vision unfocused.

Joseph knelt in front of her. She was surprised that she had not even seen him stand or get a cloth. When his tongue reached out to gently caress the inside of her leg, she realized why. Startled, she looked over to Erik. He grinned, seeming for all in the world to be a contented male lion, watching the rest of his pride feast on a gazelle that he had brought down. He waved his hand lazily side to side, indicating that she should spread her legs. She looked back in uncertainty, then resolved herself to gaze blankly ahead, complying with his wishes. She fought to suppress a tremble as Joseph's velvet tongue inched higher.

All too soon, he reached her labia. Rather than stop, his tongue slid inside of her. She gasped, shuddering.

Joseph paused. Melissa forced herself to remain still, her eyes blankly looking ahead. She would not let herself look back over at Erik. She did hear him, however, dismissively say, "Continue."

Joseph did, plunging his tongue deeper, before sliding it upward, past her aching clitoris. She couldn't stop her groan of pleasure. She was unaware she had even made a sound until it had already escaped. His tongue came back, circling her clitoris, teasing her, bringing her agonizingly close to the edge of a wonderful orgasm.

Just as she was about to cross over into an orgasm, she dimly was aware of Erik saying, "That's good. I'm sure she's clean now. You may continue with measuring her."

Slowly, the meaning of his words penetrated through to her awareness. She realized that Joseph's tongue was gone. He was once again standing beside her, measuring tape in hand. She felt frustrated and foolish. Her chest still heaving, breathing rapidly from the nearness of her orgasm. Ignoring her state, Joseph began to take measurements.

In five minutes, he was done. Her breathing had stilled and her aching need for release had faded to a dull frustration. He helped her dress again, then Erik stood up to offer her his arm. She stepped off the dais to take his arm, letting him lead her through the shop. As they passed through the front room, he asked airily, "Enjoy yourself?"

She quietly whispered, "Asshole," carefully looking straight ahead with a pleasantly blank face.

He laughed out loud. As his amusement quieted to a chuckle, he asked, with feigned sternness, "I must have misheard what my delightfully obedient slave said — could you repeat that?"

"I said, 'Thank you, Master Erik, for such a fascinating experience.'"

"Ah, that's what I thought you said. You're certainly most welcome."

They stepped out of the front door and Erik laughed again, "Okay, you can relax back to your normal, semi-slave self."

"Gosh, thanks. How could I ever repay you for that incredibly frustrating encounter?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll think of ways. But truly, part of being my sex slave is being toyed with. You won't always be allowed to cum. Sometimes, it's just for my pleasure, not yours."

"So you enjoy tormenting me?"

"Absolutely. It was... very enjoyable. And it gave me lots of ideas for other games to play."

"I don't think I like the sound of that..."

"And well you shouldn't." Erik gestured ahead of them, to where the car was parked. "Ah, here you go. Cathy is waiting for us."

Melissa saw a well-put-together woman in her fifties sitting on a bench shaded by a tree. She was wearing a summer suit with a white jacket and tan lace pencil skirt. As they got closer, Cathy stood to greet them. Melissa was both relieved and slightly disappointed to see that her lace skirt was lined and the black and tan pumps she wore had moderate heels, not the six inch stilettos that Erik seemed to prefer.

Melissa was perplexed about why she had felt a fleeting disappointment that Cathy wasn't dressed in some over-the-top sexy attire. After a moment's reflection, she realized that being with Erik had already created a warping of what felt reasonable to wear, both in private and in public. Seeing Cathy dressed more conservatively made Melissa feel more self-conscious, even though she hadn't been the least bit self-conscious while walking around the village the past hour without underwear, in a dress that was at least mildly sheer. She knew that anyone who had seen her backlit by the sun would have not had much left that they needed to imagine. She felt a little unsettled that being with Erik made her so casually comfortable with being publicly erotic. It was disconcerting that what felt 'normal' could be so easily changed.




Summer Hire Ch. 11



Erik and Melissa stopped when they reached Cathy. The older woman held out her hand to Melissa, saying, "Hi, I'm Cathy. It's so nice to meet you. When Erik told me about you, it was such a joy to hear his excitement. I can see why."

Melissa blushed, shaking her head slightly to deny this praise. She responded, "I'm so glad to meet you too. All the people in Erik's life seem to be amazing."

Melissa wasn't certain why she had been more formal in her response, but she realized that Cathy reminded her of someone who would play the role of a rich aunt in a soap opera — attractive, clever, and overly formal.

Cathy smiled back at her, then turned to Erik, giving him a hug and a light kiss on the lips. "And shame on you, for corrupting such a lovely lady. You, sir, are truly incorrigible." She shook her finger admonishingly at him, "And wicked, too."

Erik grinned, shaking his head in mock sorrow, "Alas, it's all too true." Then he dug a key fob out of his pocket, handing it to Melissa. "Now remember, you need to be back and dressed for your session with Sensei Michael at 4:30.

She looked at him and then at the car, startled. "You want me to drive? That?" She pointed at the low, powerful sports car. She wasn't sure what model it was, but she was absolutely certain it was expensive.

"Sure, you know how to drive a stick." He stepped away from them, waving, "See you later." Then he turned and walked away, without looking back.

Melissa watched him go, exasperated. As he turned a corner, she squatted down to take off her shoes. Looking up, she saw Cathy staring down at her with a quizzical expression. Melissa shrugged, "Well, I'm not going to drive that thing in these fucking six inch wedges."

Cathy chuckled in agreement, "Off hand, I'd say they're a one inch platform and a five inch heel, although I absolutely agree with your decision, since I'm going to be your passenger."

Melissa laughed too, as she stood up, shoes in hand. She clicked the key fob door opener, "Come on. Let's go shopping."



Summer Hire Ch. 12



Dangerous Woman

The screen door banged shut behind her as she came back into the house, loaded down with bags. The shopping trip with Cathy had seemed like some sort of weirdly exhilarating reality-show segment, where a dumpy house wife gets to spend far too much money on gorgeous clothes. Except that Melissa hadn't felt the least bit dumpy, even when the clothes weren't flattering or they highlighted her belly pudge, which had lately made her feel so self-conscious. Cathy had such a generous, matter-of-fact approach to what worked and didn't work that Melissa had never felt judged.

Instead, the two of them were more like a team, playing with what they knew about Erik's tastes and the realities of Melissa's body. When something didn't look flattering, Cathy simply shook her head thoughtfully and said, "Let's try this instead." Many of the things that Cathy found had made Melissa look stunning, which left her both surprised and elated. Melissa had never been as successful at picking out good clothes when she went shopping by herself. "Of course," she reminded herself, "I never go to those sorts of stores. My God, we must have spent thousands!"

A couple of times, there was something that almost looked right, but Cathy dismissed it, saying, "I don't know. A few more weeks working out with Amy might help, but really, this dress is for anorexic models. The whole point is finding you clothes that are effortless. We want something that makes you look great, without trying."

Cathy had guided her toward an all-American, Ralph Loren look. Everything they bought was really sexy, but in an understated, casual style. Almost nothing had an 'in your face' eroticism. The sensuality often came from the sheerness of the fabric, or a slightly deeper or more revealing cut. Even a blouse or two that they had gotten with plunging lines had soft folds that would only occasionally drape open, rather than some ridiculous v-neck that reached down to the bellybutton.

Cathy had also found her two wrap skirts, with slits that opened to reveal a surprising amount of leg when Melissa sat or even walked briskly. One of the wrap skirts was a maxi-length. Melissa was really pleased with how her height added more drama as the long wrap would flutter open and closed when she walked.

There were several lace skirts that Cathy had helped her pick out. After buying them, Cathy had taken a sewing tool out of her purse and casually removed the lining from the skirts, leaving them with just enough opacity not to be totally outrageous. The sales clerk had been astonished to watch the process. Cathy had then smiled politely as she slid the linings across the counter and asked the clerk if she would please put them in the trash.

Melissa looked forward to modeling her purchases for Erik, and perhaps Serena, but a quick look at the kitchen clock confirmed she only had a few minutes until her session with Sensei Michael.

She was fairly certain that 'sensei' was a Japanese word for a martial arts teacher. Beyond that, she wasn't sure what this next encounter would entail. She was more lighthearted about her uncertainty, however, than she had been in the morning. As Erik had predicted, her shopping trip with Cathy had left her in a more settled mood. For the moment, at least, she was feeling at peace with the strange turn her life had taken.

Walking to her room, she didn't see Erik anywhere in the house. She wondered where he was. "Probably," she said out loud, "coming up with more ways to torment me." Instead of anger, however, she felt a naughty thrill of anticipation.

Entering her room, she saw laid out on her bed a white cotton martial arts outfit and a sports bra. She laughed at the continued absence of panties, declaring to the empty room, "Boys will be boys."

As quickly as she could, she changed into the martial arts outfit, although she struggled for a bit with how to wrap and tie the long cotton belt. Erik hadn't left her any shoes to go with the new clothes. She decided that her wedges or any of the other heels in her closet would look silly, so she went barefoot. She and Cathy had deferred any shoe shopping to later in the week, since she already had a half dozen new pairs in her closet.

Cathy had told her that Erik had plans for the two of them to go clothes shopping a couple times a week, for at least a few weeks. Melissa had been shocked to learn that Cathy's full-time job was actually shopping for clothes. She worked mainly for movie and television production companies, helping them with wardrobe purchases. She also had a network of private clients, several of whom were in the bondage, discipline, and sadomasochism world.

Melissa looked at the pile of shopping bags that she had deposited next to the bed, hoping that she would get to keep all these clothes when the summer ended. Most of them could be toned down by wearing a slip or by adding a discreet fastener. Thinking ahead, however, to the end of the summer made her pensive. She shoved that mood aside and set out with a deliberately springy, happy stride.

When she reached the main part of the house, she discovered Erik just coming in the front door. From the upper level, he looked over the railing and called out, "I guess you had a lot of fun shopping, skipping around like like that."

"Oh, we had a love-e-ly time. Perfectly wonderful."

"Good, well, come on up. We shouldn't keep Mike waiting."

"Sure." Melissa hurried up the steps, happy to be in bare feet after too much time in tall heels.

Walking out the screen door together, she asked, "So is it Mike? Or Sensei Michael?"

"Well, really Sensei Michael. At least when he's teaching you martial arts. He's not very formal. He's also not into the whole kink thing, but when you're learning from him, calling him sensei is just a traditional sign of respect. And the guy deserves it; he's an amazing teacher."

"Yeah, so what is it, exactly, that I'm supposed to be learning? It's not obvious how martial arts fits into the whole sex slave thing."

"True, true. It might seem a strange sort of fit, but there's a few good reasons. First, at a practical level, you're going into archeology. That's going to take you all over the world, including a lot of places that are real hell-holes. Or at least, places that aren't on the normal tourist routes. I'd like you to be safe, so knowing how to handle yourself seems like a good idea.

"Second, if you decide to go further into this world of BDSM, you'll eventually run across some very unhappy, twisted souls. The only way some sickos can get off is by inflicting real pain on someone... non-consensual sort of stuff.

"Most of us are pretty conscientious about trying to police the clubs and the BDSM community to keep out the scum, but they're usually somewhere around, lurking around the dark edges.

"I feel a personal sense of responsibility. If I'm going to bring you into this world, I should make sure that you can protect yourself."

They had been walking back through the out-buildings, towards the exercise studio. Even though the day was warm, Melissa felt a chill as he spoke. He noticed and stopped walking, taking her hands in his. "Look, I don't mean to frighten you. Or at least, not too much. You should talk to Deborah or Serena about it. Mostly, it's just a matter of commonsense precautions, but still, knowing how to take somebody down never hurts."

She nodded.

Then Erik looked away, almost a little bashful. After a moment, a small grin crept across his mouth and he turned back, "I suppose I should come clean and tell you there's another reason. It's my own kink, I guess. I love the idea of owning a dangerous woman. I don't know... it's sort of like in spy movies when you see the evil henchmen and he's got this beautiful female assassin who's totally devoted to him. That gives me a rush, knowing I'm the master of a powerful and dangerous woman."

Erik shook his head, clearly embarrassed to be revealing this motivation to her. Then he continued, "I don't know how much that feeds into the rest of it, because all the other reasons for you knowing how to protect yourself really are valid, but it didn't feel fair not to tell you why I, personally at least, get a kick out of it."

"Okayyy... I guess that works. Hey, I always loved James Bond movies. And I guess the bad-girls were sort of... fun, especially the early ones. But, yecch, they always get killed off along the way."

"Well, we'll teach you how to kill, instead of be killed."

"That's a... pretty aggressive way to put it."

"Yeah, but where you're headed, out into the field on some dig in the ass-end of nowhere, there can be some seriously bad guys out there. Hopefully, there's lots of alternatives short of kill or be killed. But someday, that could be what it comes down to: kill or be killed. In that case, I'd much rather you knew how to... be aggressive."

"Okay, I guess I could buy that."

"Anyway, that's why I brought in Mike, rather than somebody else. He's is a retired Special Forces guy. He's got loads of "been there, done that" credentials. After 22 years in the service, he got out so he could be a real husband and dad, instead of a Skype call every few weeks. He lives on a farm near here and teaches executive protection stuff on the side, which is how I met him."

"You needed executive protection?"

"A couple years back, some mob-related union guys got pretty upset at me for busting up their cozy little arrangement with a company that I was trying to save. Mike taught me how to... well, mostly, how to be careful. What to watch for. How to take somebody down quickly. How to shoot. Helped me get a carry permit for a concealed weapon. He even shadowed me for awhile, when it got a little hairy."

"And?"

"And nothing. When you're prepared, the bad guys eventually figure it out. They're not stupid. They're not going to go after somebody if it might get them killed or put in jail. So after awhile, they went after easier prey, somewhere else."

"That's kind of... intense."

"Yeah, I didn't sleep too well for a couple of months there, but Mike helped me understand that I was high enough profile that they didn't really want to follow through with their threats, cause that would have attracted a lot of attention. So I just made it easier and more profitable for them to go somewhere else, and I was really careful to do it in a way that didn't challenge their manhood or make them do something stupid.

"Anyway, Mike's a good guy. What he's going to teach you is how to read a situation. Then, when you have to act, if you ever have to act, he's going to teach you the short, sharp, nasty stuff. No fancy kung-foo 'praying mantis style' or whatever. Just how to take somebody down fast and hard.

"Later on, he'll teach you how to shoot a weapon."

"Okay..."

"Hey, your James Bond training gets even better. Next week, I'll take you up to Watkins Glen. There's a race driver up there who does private classes. We've got some track time and you can learn how to play with your new toy."

"New toy?"

"Your Aston Martin."

"Yeah, I finally figured out that over-powered brute you had me drive today is an Aston Martin. Wait, what do you mean, 'mine'?"

"I don't know. It seemed to suit you, so I got it."

"What the fuck?"

"Hey, it's a couple years old. The owner wanted the latest model and traded it in. I know the dealer and it was available at a great price. Besides, I've always wanted one. It is very 'James Bond'. So getting you a car to drive was a really great excuse." 

"So it's yours, right? I'm just borrowing it for the summer."

"Yep, company car. Comes with the job. I mean, I told you I'd provide transportation."

"You know that you're like... way over the top sometimes. I mean, way, way over the top."

"Yeah, part of my charm."

"Something like that."

Erik made a sad face. "What, you don't like the car?"

"It's gorgeous. The leather is so soft. I mean, it's a little scary to drive. Though, it's also way cool and I love how solid it feels on the road. But it's got to be six figures!"

"Brand new, sure, but I got a much better deal than that. Anyway, it's all part of my nefarious plan to teach you how to drive a high-performance car. Later on, some buddies of Mike have an executive-protection driving school. They'll teach you how to get out of being shaken down at a check point, what to do when you're being chased, that sort of thing."

"Where the hell do you think I'm going, that I'm going to need to know that sort of stuff?"

"Brooklyn? Come on, humor me. Take this as a summer to learn lots of outlandish things that you might never, ever need to use again."

"That's for sure," she said, somewhat sardonically.

"Trust me," he assured her. "It'll be fun — if you let it be, that is. Remember, you've stepped through the looking glass. Explore. Be bold. Your job is to embrace the adventure. Fearlessly."

"Yes, Master."

"There's the spirit! Now let's go meet Sensei Michael."

They resumed walking. Then Melissa suddenly stopped and blurted out accusingly, "Laura Croft! You're trying to turn me into Laura Croft!"

Erik stopped alongside her. He was thoughtful for a moment, then asked, "Laura Croft, Tomb Raider?" She nodded emphatically. He mused, "The movies, right? Angelina Jolie?" She nodded again and Erik ruefully shook his head. "Wow. Truth is, I hadn't really thought of it. I mean, sure, at some level her character was every adolescent male's fantasy. But at another level, the movie version of Laura Croft was way too much bitch-goddess for my taste."

He laughed a little, "But yeah, it's true that I'm guilty of lusting after the general trope of the action-girl. You're being in archeology and the Laura Croft thing... that hadn't really occurred to me, at least not consciously. Of course, you'd look pretty cute in those itty-bitty shorts, tight shirt, and gun belt."

Melissa rolled her eyes, "Boys!"

Erik reached out and smacked her behind. An unexpected jolt of sexually charged electricity raced up Melissa's spine, stiffening her and making her catch her breath. Erik grinned evilly, "Yes, but I know your fantasies too. Well, at least some of them. We'll find the others. Trial and error, maybe. It might take awhile, but don't worry, I'm a determined and patient man."

Melissa shook her head sadly, "I am so fucked."

"That's for certain."

When they reached the exercise studio, Erik walked back with her to an area she hadn't paid attention to before. The whole floor was a mat, covered in cotton canvas. Waiting for them was a compact man in his early forties, slightly balding and a little overweight. He was dressed in a martial arts outfit, but the heavy white cotton seemed comfortably rumpled on him. He had been stretching as they walked in. He rose up to great them, moving smoothly, although with nothing like the grace of Joseph, or even Erik.

He came over with a friendly, low key smile and put out his hand to shake, saying, "Hi. I'm Mike."

She shook his hand politely, "I'm Melissa. Nice to meet you." She was surprised to realize that she was taller than him, even in her bare feet.

"Erik says you're studying to be archeologist."

"Yeah. I, ah, really like archeology. Learning about where we came from, what shaped us, that's always been something that I've wanted to do."

"Sounds cool," he said with what seemed like genuine enthusiasm. "You interested in any particular culture or area?"

"Well, my school has both Classical and Non-Classical." He cocked his head questioningly, so she explained, "Classical is Greece, Rome, the Near East, that sort of thing. I like that a lot, but I also find some of the Non-Classical work in Africa fascinating."

He smiled in affirmation, "I spent some time in Africa and the Near East. Middle East too. Lots of beautiful country and some pretty amazing people."

"Ah yeah, Erik said you were Special Forces or something."

Mike nodded, "That's a pretty good description, sure."

"It's just that, well... you don't seemed to be this big, bulked out, swaggering... I don't know."

Mike grinned, "Hollywood's got it's own version of reality, bless their pointy little heads. Guys in the teams are mostly like me. SEALS might be a bit more bulked out... and they definitely have a swagger, but operators like me are just ordinary folk."

Erik laughed and said quietly, "Yeah, and I've got a bridge you might want to buy."

Mike grinned, waving Erik's comment away. "Anyway, Erik asked me if I could show you a few things that might help you out if things ever get a little dicey overseas."

Melissa shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, well I guess it couldn't hurt."

"Okay, great." Mike looked over to Erik, "Were you going to stay around? Or..."

"No, no, I just wanted to introduce you." Erik reached out touching Mike's arm. "And hey, I'm sorry we were late. It was my fault."

Mike smiled, "No problem. First day. Lots of things to square away." Then Mike made shooing motions with his hands, "Don't worry. I'll take good care of her."

Erik stepped back, laughing, "Okay, okay. I'm leaving. See you guys later."

Melissa and Mike watched as Erik walked to the front door and left. Then Mike turned to Melissa and asked, "So have you ever had any self-defense classes or martial arts training?"

She shook her head, "No."

He nodded thoughtfully, "You look like you're in pretty good shape. Play sports?"

"Not really. I was kind of a tomboy when I was younger. Then, you know, softball, and stuff like that. Oh, and I was in dance, ballet, for... I don't know, years and years."

"That's all good. Exercise, coordination, all that stuff is really useful. As a woman, though, you know you're never going to have a guy's upper body strength. Testosterone is a steroid, and it gives guys a really unfair advantage. Of course, it also makes us pretty stupid, most of the time. So I'm going to teach you a wonderful trick. I'm going to try to teach you how to use men's strength and stupidity to your advantage."

"That sounds... I'm not sure... how does it work?

"Sure. Here's an example. Most of the guys you need to worry about defending yourself against are the sort of guys who don't have a lot of respect for women in the first place. So they're going to get right up in your face." Mike stepped in close to her to demonstrate. "And they're not going to be thinking about defending themselves, 'cause they're thinking about attacking you. So that leaves them open in a dozen different ways. You can take a guy down like that in just a couple of moves."

"'Take him down?'"

"Yeah, well I'm going to teach you two different sets of techniques. One is aimed at regaining control of the situation, giving you a shot at deescalating things, without seriously hurting the other person. The other is how to, as quickly as possible, disable the other person — kill him or injure him so badly that you have a good chance to get away. The choice of which approach, which set of techniques you use, is up to you, based on the scenario."

He shrugged his shoulders and continued, "I'll try to help you learn how to read a situation, so that you can avoid a problem if possible, but if you can't, then you'll hopefully learn what response is most likely to keep you safe."

"Ah, I'm not so sure I want to know how to kill somebody."

Mike nodded thoughtfully, "That's a tough one. Killing another human being is... well it's not something to be taken lightly. The problem is, you might be going to places where lots of people do take it lightly. Folks like that, they can be pretty scary.

"The good thing is, you're an American, a civilian, and a woman, so for the most part, people are going to be treating you pretty dang carefully. They won't mess with you too much. Most everyone in these sorts of places knows that bad things tend to happen when you screw with an American.




Summer Hire Ch. 12



"So that means you hopefully won't need anything that I'm going to teach you. But if you do, you'll really want to know it. At some point, not now, but at some point in the next few weeks, you'll probably want to do some serious soul searching about whether you'd rather let yourself be raped, tortured, killed — to avoid killing someone else. I know that's pretty blunt, but I think you need to face that decision squarely, before it might ever come up. For some people, killing another person is simply not an option. I really do respect that.

"I will tell you, though, that when things get ugly, most folks get to the place where they'd rather kill than be killed... although not all. So, I don't have to teach you how to seriously hurt or kill somebody. If you want, we can stay with just the control moves."

He gave her a reassuring smile, then continued, "I think it makes more sense, though, to teach you both ways. Then you can decide for yourself which to use, if you ever need to."

Melissa nodded, sobered by the serious turn the lesson had taken.

Mike continued, "In any case, you probably shouldn't decide anything right now. Today, I'm just going to start with some basics. Mostly, we'll work with how to fall down. Then I'll show you a basic wrist lock."

"How to fall down?"

Mike grinned, "Yeah sounds kind of stupid, right? I mean, you trip, fall, and the ground stops you. That's simple enough. The trick is, how to do it so you don't get hurt. Even better, so you come right back up. That way, if somebody shoves you down, you just go with the move, roll away, zip right back up to your feet, and you're running like hell out of there, before the bad guy has any fucking idea what just happened."

Mike smiled broadly and continued, "Running away is almost always a really good option. I've had lots of practice, personally. Only we called it exfiltration, so we didn't sound like wusses. Anyway, being able to run faster than the guy chasing you is another reason for staying in good shape."

"But aren't you some sort of super soldier? I mean, did you ever really run away?"

"Super soldier?" Mike laughed. "We ran away lots. I still do. Whenever my wife wants something else fixed... but no, seriously, in a really small unit, if the bad guys figure out where you are, your best bet is usually to run like hell. If you have to tangle with them, things gets messy and people get hurt. When bullets start flying around, good guys can catch one as easily as a bad guy. The best bet is to break contact fast, and get the hell out of Dodge. Then you've got a chance to circle around and continue the mission.

"So yeah, I've spent a fair amount of time running from trouble. And I highly recommend it. So a lot of what I'll show you is exactly that. How to break contact and buy yourself the time and space to rabbit out of there."

He paused for a moment to see if she had any questions, then asked, "Ready to get started?"

She grimaced, "Okay. I'm still a little sore from this morning's workout."

He nodded, "Then let's warm up with some exercises first. Got to get those muscles warm and loose, so you don't hurt anything."

"Oh fun."



Summer Hire Ch. 13



Chapter 13
Pony Ride

Melissa walked out of the exercise studio with a towel around her neck, her martial arts jacket bundled up under her arm. Mike had told her it was called a judo-gi and had shown her how to tie it into a tight bundle using the long cotton belt.

She was tired, but not as exhausted as she had feared. In fact, she realized she felt energized. Learning from Mike was very different than the session with Amy. "Mistress Amy," she quickly corrected herself.

Walking back to the house, she considered the question Mike had asked her. Was she really willing to kill another person, in order to save her own life? Put that bluntly, the obvious answer was, "yes". But such a simple answer somehow didn't feel comfortable, and she wasn't sure why.

Mike was such an easygoing person. She had a hard time believing that he had killed people during his years in the military, although she knew that he must have. She was having difficulty reconciling all of her perceptions. Mike wasn't at all what she had expected. She had thought that a man with his background would have had a darker, brooding nature, with much more of an alpha-male dominance.

Instead, he was polite, open, enthusiastic, and attentive. "That's it," she said as she suddenly realized what seemed so weird about their interaction. The whole time she had been with him, his focus was only on her. His attention hadn't wandered at all. His focus hadn't felt threatening and she didn't have any sense that he had been trying to seduce her or play mind games with her. He had simply listened to her, with total interest. He had talked a lot too, but she realized that when he told her something, he had always waited to see if she understood. It had been spooky.

She felt relieved that she had figured out what had been bothering her about their interaction, but that knowledge still didn't help her with the question of whether she was willing to learn how to hurt or kill someone. Mike and Erik did have a point, she thought; she was going to be spending at least some of her career in poor, backwater places — where she knew life could be violent and cheap. She rationalized to herself that, just because she knew how to be violent as well, didn't mean that she would have to be. Learning what Mike had to teach her seemed like it was probably a good idea.

Entering the main house, she laughed to herself. The reality of her of how she was struggling over her decision had nothing to do with the 'girl-with-a-gun' image that Angelina Jolie had brought to Laura Croft. Nodding to herself, she realized that the contrast between movie fantasy and her reality was just like how Mike wasn't the Hollywood version of a super soldier or how Erik wasn't some whacked-out sadist. Reality and fantasy were such distant companions, it seemed to require deliberate stupidity to confuse one for the other.

Looking at the divide between fantasy and reality in that light made Erik's attitude of treating fantasy as though it were a play toy seem like really good idea. By carefully labeling it 'play', their fantasy life was kept separate from reality. She reminded herself that she had to keep this distinction clear, while she was exploring the kink world. "Weird shit indeed," she told herself.

Erik walked out from his room, looked up at her, and called out, "How'd it go?"

She moved down the steps to join him. "It wasn't at all what I expected. Mike's a lot more... thoughtful than I would have guessed. And he's got this weird intensity. I mean, it's like he's really low key and all, but it's also like there was nothing else in the world but me. I didn't notice it until afterwards, but it was kind of spooky."

Erik grinned as she joined him. He gave her a quick, unexpected kiss on the lips, and then led her over to a pair of overstuffed leather chairs and ottomans that looked out over the patio and meadow.

Sitting down he said, "As far as I can tell, it's a Special Forces thing. It must be part of their training. When a SF guy is talking to somebody, that SF guy is really, really listening. I think it's like that whole 'mindfullness' thing that you hear being promoted in seminars on 'being a more effective person', or some such crap. Only it really seems to work for them.

"Through Mike, I've met some other SF guys, and they're all like that, at least with outsiders. With each other, it's the usual macho, joking-around shit. But even then, when somebody says something important or new, they all stop and listen. No judgmental stuff or one-upping. They just seem to want to take it in and consider what the other person said."

He shook his head. "It's really kind of wild. I don't know how they train that behavior into somebody, but I sometimes wish more folks had it."

Melissa nodded, "It was kind of weird... and amazing. I wouldn't have thought that having somebody really listening to you was such a big deal, but it definitely felt... different."

"Yep. So what else wasn't what you expected?"

"Mike was a lot more... gentle... and serious than I expected."

She paused, thinking back over her time with Mike. Erik cocked his head, inviting her to continue, so she did. "We talked about how violent some parts of the world can be, and whether learning to be violent in return was a good response. I don't know. I guess it is. But I'm not completely comfortable with it."

She shrugged, then continued, "What surprised me though, is that Mike was completely okay with my doubts. He's not all macho about it. I don't know... I guess I'll learn what he has to teach me, and then figure out what to do about it when I've had a chance to think everything through. In the meantime though, I guess I'm grateful for the chance to learn how to protect myself, even if it is feeding some twisted adolescent fantasy of yours."

Erik put his hand over his heart, feigning injury. "Foresooth, cruel and vicious woman. You accuse me most heartlessly of foul intent. My twisted adolescent fantasy was the most trivial part of my motivation."

Melissa laughed, "Yeah, and what was the other part of your motivation?"

"Pure, unadulterated lust." His gaze suddenly bore into her and she felt her heart skip.

She struggled to regain control of her powerless response to his commanding gaze. She took a deep breath as stealthily as she could, trying to hide how much he had thrown her off center. Without any conscious intent of speaking, she found herself countering with, "So what was that kiss all about? Are we girlfriend and boyfriend, or slave and master?"

Erik smiled, seemingly unperturbed by her question. Watching him, Melissa squirmed inside, not believing that she had just blurted out something so direct. Then he answered, "All of that, I hope. Boyfriend and girlfriend, master and slave, plus there's the whole boss and employee thing. I know it's a bit of an uncomfortable mix. Sort of a hobgoblin, really. But it's like I told you, I'm committed to making it work, feeling our way through it, together."

Melissa countered, "If we're boyfriend and girlfriend, at least if that's part of it, then why do I have a separate room... like the maid?" Once again, she was internally appalled at her lack of control, especially in tacking on a barb about living in the maid's room. She gritted her teeth in frustration that she couldn't seem to start speaking without letting an angry comment slip out sideways.

Erik paused again. He had clearly noticed her anger and frustration. "I'm sorry. Giving you your own room wasn't meant to push you away, or demean you. I just... I wanted to give you a place of your own, a space that was yours. I know that I can be intense, and that I often move too quickly."

He looked out the windows, across the meadow at the late afternoon sun. Then he turned back to her, "It's your choice, where to sleep, where your clothes are. I would love for you to share my bed, my room. I just wanted to make sure you knew you didn't have to. It seemed important to give you a room of your own, so you had a safe place that was yours."

"Okay. I guess... I understand. Sorry for being all pissy. It's just that I'm sort of scared. Off balance. Not sure where I fit in."

He nodded and smiled. "Right here, on my lap, enjoying a quiet moment at the end of the afternoon."

She felt the tension she had been holding in her shoulders seep away. "That sounds nice." She got up from her chair and stepped across to his.

"Sure you don't want to get those sweaty clothes off first?" His tone feigned innocence, but the twinkle in his eyes made his true intent clear.

She sighed, "Yes Master." She peeled the sports bra off her chest, over her head, and tossed it into the chair behind her. She held his gaze as she reached down and untied the drawstring on her heavy cotton judo-gi pants, letting them slide down her legs. Stepping out of the pants, she straddled his legs that were stretched across the ottoman. "Is this better, Master?"

He smiled, simultaneously contented and hungry, seeming to drink in her beauty. Almost to himself, he quietly replied, "Infinitely better." Reaching forward, he traced a slow, lazy line down her left thigh.

Her sex clenched and moistened at his touch. She continued to be amazed at how he could command her instant arousal. Letting her eyes half close, she swayed closer to him. He reached up and pulled her down to him, his lips brushing softly against hers. Her mouth parted slightly open. He held her motionless above him as he traced the opening of her mouth with his tongue.

As she leaned forward, the softness of her labia pressed hard against the denim fabric of his jeans. She shuddered, feeling her building need. Erik lifted her higher, pulling her forward so he could nibble along both sides of her neck. As she slid forward, she left a wet streak along his pant leg. The weave of his denim sliding against her clitoris had nearly pushed her over the edge. She gasped with a sudden intake of breath as the sensation threatened to overwhelm her.

He chuckled at her response, then kissed and licked along the soft curve between her shoulder and neck, slowly reaching upwards toward her ear. She found herself panting, fighting the urgency building within her pelvis. He chuckled again and raised his leg sharply up, pressing against the heat of her sex, which sent her unexpectedly spiraling over into a pulsating orgasm. She arched her back, throwing her head up, her hair whipping past his face.

When her shudders finally faded, she collapsed, limp against him as he lowered her torso down onto his chest. She snuggled into the clean cotton scent of his camp shirt and murmured, "How can you do that? How do you make me come so quickly?"

His only reply was a gentle stroking of her hair.

She turned slightly to kiss his chest, then laid her head back against him. Whispering, as though to herself, she speculated, "Must be some evil spell."

He laughed quietly, the soft motion of his chest rocking her head. Reaching down, he kissed the top of her head and replied, "No, the only spell is the one you weave around us. You are so full of life, so amazingly connected to your own sexual energy. I love to play with your body. You could be a Stradivarius violin. The feelings you evoke are so very potent and wonderful."

She whispered back, "I loved being played. You are truly a master. My Master."

He shifted a little underneath her, finding a more comfortable spot against the overstuffed leather cushions. Then he whispered back, "Don't forget, boyfriend too."

She lay quietly against his chest, slowly lifted and lowered with his breathing. A tear trickled down her cheek, gathering for a moment before falling onto his shirt. 

She wiped the tear streak from her cheek, hoping he wouldn't notice, then said, "Yeah, and boss too."

"Yes, tis true. And as your boss, what are you doing, laying around? It's nearly time to get ready for this evening."

"But... isn't there something I can do for you?" She felt embarrassed that he had so deftly brought her to yet another orgasm, while she hadn't done anything in return but enjoy it.

Still lying against him, she felt his laughter rumbling in his chest. She lifted her head to look at him as he replied, "Dear one, simply playing with you gives me such pleasure. You never need worry about what I want." He grinned evilly, "After all, I will simply take what I want, when I want it. You are, in case you've forgotten, my sex slave."

She protested innocently, "But Master, I need to practice my deep throating. You did tell me that I had to practice every day."

He looked at her, disapprovingly. "If I didn't know better, I'd say my little slave girl was trying to manipulate me."

"Oh no sir. I should never do such a horrid thing. I only seek to make myself a better sex toy for your amusement. Please sir, can't I practice just a little bit?"

"Oh you are a dangerous one indeed." He sighed deeply. "Very well, you may unzip me."

"Thank you Master, thank you," she said as she slid eagerly down his body, until she was nuzzling his obviously rigid penis through the straining fabric of his jeans. She slipped open his belt and unbuttoned his waistband. Seeing that his zipper had a fabric pull tab, she used her tongue to lift the tab to her teeth, then she bit down on the tab and slowly drew his zipper open.

With her nose and chin, she nudged his penis out from where it had been trapped by a fold of his pants. He groaned with a deep, satisfied sigh as she took him into her mouth. She remembered to spend some time getting him wet first, before taking him in deeply. When she slid him down to the back of her mouth, she flinched a little bit as her gag reflex kicked in.

He told her, "Just hold it there awhile. Breathe around it and let your body get used to the pressure. Don't hurry your gag reflex. Just relax into it."

She concentrated hard on being able to breathe while the head of his penis filled the back of her mouth. After a minute, the panicky sense of not being able to breathe ebbed away. Her fear of imminently gagging also subsided. She began to slowly draw him in and out, each time pressing him more firmly against the opening to her throat.

He slipped his head back against the cushions for a moment, "Oh God, that's so good. I really love watching myself disappear into your mouth."

She tried to smile, but her mouth was so full of him that only the corners of her mouth quirked upwards.

She could now press him more forcefully against the opening to her throat, although the size of him seemed to make it impossible to go any further.

He noted her difficulty and said, "Remember to straighten out the line of your mouth and throat. If you slide yourself down a little further, that'll tilt your head up a bit."

She wriggled down, feeling a little awkward in how she was half draped across the ottoman. Although the angle had improved, she still couldn't get him past the constriction of her throat.

"When you're ready, yawn. That'll stretch your throat open."

She paused, took a final deep breath, and then made a yawning motion. His penis suddenly slipped past the back of her mouth and into her throat. She fought down the rising panic caused by feeling such fullness intruding into her throat. She was only dimly aware that Erik had tensed up and was now breathing in shallow, jerky breaths.

As she gained control over her panic, she slid him deeper in, wanting desperately to match Deborah's ability to press her lips up against his torso. As she got close, the feeling of fullness overwhelmed her and she had to pull away, drawing him back into her mouth.

She swirled her tongue around his head, while breathing deeply, making up for not being able to breath while he was in her throat.

He groaned contentedly. She was proud of the effect that she was able to have on him. He seemed so much less guarded as he gave into just enjoying her attentions. Determined to keep him in that place, she held her mouth in a yawn again and took him back into her throat. It seemed easier this time. There was definitely less of a panicky feeling, although she was also starting to feel very sore from having her throat stretched.

She didn't want to go much longer, but she also wanted to have him cum. For the moment, ignoring her increasing soreness, she started to rapidly move him in and out, taking him as deeply into her throat as she could. She could hear his rising gasps and groans as his orgasm built. With a loud groan that was nearly a roar, he orgasmed, shooting pulsating jets of semen deep into her throat.

She pulled him back into her mouth, breathing hard. A final few spurts of his cum filled the back of her mouth. She still could barely stand the taste, but she made herself roll her tongue over it, knowing it was important to him that she at least pretended to like it. She did feel a deep sense of satisfaction in being able make him come this way. She now truly appreciated Serena's joy this morning at being able to make Erik come when he had been trying to keep on a schedule.

Erik slid his penis out of her mouth. He seemed protective of it, as though it was overstimulated. She knew that her clitoris often got overly sensitive right after an orgasm. Of course, her clitoris could easily be overly stimulated by a clumsy boyfriend rubbing directly on it. She often wondered what the hell they thought it was, perhaps some sort of button they were supposed to keep on pressing like a monkey trying to get a reward?

Erik looked down at her, his eyes still half closed in refractory bliss. He lifted her chin up, to see her face better. She smiled. The motion made her realize that some of his cum must have dribbled down her chin when he pulled out. Feeling self-conscious, she wiped it off with her hand, then wondered where to wipe her hand clean. She didn't want to use his pants or the leather ottoman.

Remembering Serena's admonitions, she tilted her head down to lick her fingers clean. Erik groaned his approval as she feigned savoring her task. His clear enthusiasm actually made it easier to ignore the taste and honestly enjoy the process. Perhaps he was right and she really liked being a sex slave. All the evidence seemed to point in that direction.

She looked back up at him. "Thank you Master, for letting me practice. Your slave is grateful." As she spoke, however, she realized that her throat was quite sore. It felt as though she had been shouting far too long at a football game.

He hummed his approval, still enjoying the afterglow of his orgasm too much to speak. She slipped back up to lay her head on his chest once again. He put his arms around her and snuggled deeper into the chair.

Sore throat aside, she decided that she was very contented to be his sex slave for the summer. She didn't see how it could keep on going once school started, but it certainly was nice for now.

* * *

She hadn't even realized that she had fallen asleep when the "bang" of the screen door swinging shut startled her awake. She looked up bleary eyed as she heard a British-accented woman's voice calling out, "Hello dearies."

Erik stirred underneath her, then called out, "Down here, Mrs. Grady."

As Melissa's eyes regained focus, she saw a small, dark-haired woman with a picnic hamper coming down the steps from the upper level. She seemed younger and more fit than the stout, grey-haired matron that Melissa had envisioned. Mrs. Grady smiled at her with a broad, welcoming grin.

With a start, Melissa suddenly remembered that she was sprawled naked across Erik. She slid off, scrambling to snatch her judo-gi pants from the floor and her sports bra from the chair.

"Don't worry about me, dear," Mrs. Grady called out from above. Melissa looked up. The housekeeper had set the basket down on the counter and turned away to give them some privacy. Melissa hurriedly stepped into her pants. She struggled to pull up the stiff cotton judo-gi, while she was still crouched over and trying to hide her breasts behind the crumpled-up sports bra she had clamped across her with one hand.




Summer Hire Ch. 13



Erik grinned, shaking his head at her. He levered himself from the chair and casually zipped his pants closed.

With a deep breath, Melissa forced herself to calm down and get more deliberately dressed. Her heart, however, continued to race. Memories floated up of her mother walking in on her while she had been making out with a boyfriend during a college summer break after sophomore year. That incident had culminated in a shouting match and nearly being thrown out of the house for the summer.

Ironically, it had been her father's arrival back from work that had calmed things down. He had taken her mother aside for a long talk in the kitchen. When he came back from the kitchen he took Melissa out onto the front porch, shaking his head in exasperation. Standing next to her, looking out at the street, he put an hand on her shoulder and said quietly, "Next time, lock your door." After that, he turned around and went back inside.

Remembering her father's calm acceptance helped Melissa steady herself. She took a deep breath, then turned away from both Mrs. Grady and Erik to rearrange her breasts, which had been squashed askew when she had quickly pulled on her sports bra.

Turning back around, she saw the housekeeper taking food out of the hamper. Erik held out his hand to Melissa. She put her hand in his and let him lead her up to the kitchen on the middle level.

Mrs. Grady paused in her activity to smile brightly at Melissa. "What a pleasure to meet you! We have such hopes that you'll mend this rouge of his wicked ways."

Thinking of her entirely willing complicity in their recent sexual escapades, Melissa froze, certain that she was turning red from embarrassment.

Mrs. Grady waved down her reaction. "Oh pish, posh. I don't mean his proclivity for corporal punishment or his occasionally odd sexual partners. I'm British after all. Our upper class has provided us with generations worth of amusement along those lines. No, I mean the young master's galavanting around, willy nilly, as though this were a way station, not a home, not his home."

Erik cleared his throat, "Now Mrs. Grady..."

"Yes, yes. I know. None of my business."

He lectured her, "Lest you forget, my work, galavanting around, is what pays for all this." Erik waved his hand to indicate the house and beyond. "And your salary as well, which must be far too high if you feel free to take such liberties."

"Ha. Liberties indeed! Well never you mind." She turned to Melissa, "Have no fear, his bark is worse than his bite." Pausing, she glanced back at Erik's glower for a moment before continuing with Melissa, "Well, maybe not much worse. But such is the lot of those of us who have to put up with him. In any case, please swing by for tea some afternoon. It would be lovely to get to know one another better."

Melissa glanced at Erik as well for a moment, trying to assess how much of his anger was pretend and if any of it was real. Turning back to the older woman, she smiled. "I would love to have tea with you. And to meet your husband someday. You have such a beautiful garden."

"Thank you..."

The screen door banged shut again. Serena called out, "Oh Mrs. Grady! What wonders have you cooked for us?" Serena set down two bags she was carrying and walked to the top of the steps.

"Oh fear not," Mrs. Grady replied, "You'll be well provisioned for your debauch. The young master, though, is in a proper state. He's sure to whip the both of you straight away."

Erik said quite loudly, "Mrs. Grady!" Pausing to gain a more measured voice, he continued firmly, "That will be quite enough... thank you."

The housekeeper's eyes twinkled at the two other women as she hurried out of the kitchen. "See what I mean. Well, have fun all." She went up the steps and out the door. Serena cocked an eyebrow inquiringly at Erik and Melissa.

Erik shook his head in frustration and snorted an annoyed laugh. Seeing both women looking at him, he announced, "She's right. She's managed to needle me into a proper state, and now you're left to pay for it." He pointed to the kitchen counter. "Lie across here, naked."

Serena walked down the steps, giving Melissa a little shrug, as she shed her tee shirt and jeans. Melissa noted that Serena had not worn any underwear again. Melissa wondered again, in a distracted moment, if a lack of underwear was somehow a rule of the kink world, or just Erik's requirement.

With a start, she realized that she had been told to strip and lie across the counter, but hadn't done either. Erik was watching her with narrowed eyes. She hurriedly pulled her sports bra back off and untied her pants, stepping out of them as she walked over to join Serena at the kitchen island.

Serena had to lever herself up over the rounded edge of the counter to lie across it, with her feet dangling above the floor. Melissa was tall enough that she could stand on the balls of her feet to lean over and lie next to Serena. She copied the other woman's posture of outstretched arms, clasped together in front of her head. The marble counter top sucked the heat from her naked body, giving her a shiver.

"Smack!" She saw Serena flinch next to her, then moan in pleasure.

"Smack!" Her own bottom lit on fire from something narrow and hard striking across both cheeks. She jerked in panful reaction, unsure if it felt arousing or just painful.

"Smack!" Serena grunted, "Oww!" She arched back in reaction, groaning in pleasure as she slumped back down.

"Smack!" Melissa gasped at the sharpness of the blow as she grasped at the unyielding counter top. The burning spread further across her buttocks and she winced. It definitely was painful, but something in the act of submission, lying next to Serena who was also being punished, felt extraordinarily erotic as well.

"Smack!" Serena jolted again, then groaned as she recovered.

"Smack!" Melissa cried out, "Awwh!" She felt tears near, while the heat in her rear had also penetrated through to her sex, in a throbbing intensity.

She waited for the next blow to fall upon Serena, but there was a pause, then Serena stiffened in pleasure as she was rhythmically pushed forward. Melissa realized that Erik had penetrated her. Serena's groans quickly grew more desperate, till she orgasmed in a loud series of deep growls. Serena slumped down, bonelessly on the counter.

Melissa felt Erik step behind her as he spread open her drenched labia. Without further warning, he rammed inside her, completely filling her. He forcefully pumped himself into her, rocking her back and forth on the hard marble surface.

As quickly as Serena, Melissa felt herself building to an orgasm. In the dimness of her perception, Melissa sensed Serena lifting her head in a long groan as Erik asked the other woman, "Did you clean and grease your ass?"

Before Melissa could focus to puzzle out what that exchange meant, she felt herself hopelessly flailing toward a huge orgasm. Her toes curled against the floor as she was slammed forward again and again. The pounding of her blood roared in her ears as she cried out, "Ahrr, ahrr, ahrr" while she came. The painful redness of her buttocks merged into her helpless thrashing as her orgasm echoed through her, finally dying away.

Erik withdrew and she collapsed against the now warm marble, her cheeks wet from tears. She didn't know if she had cried from the spanking, or the sex, or both.

While she lay with her face turned toward Serena, she saw the other woman's eyes open wide as she was pushed forward, her head lifting again from the counter. "Oh God," Serena moaned, "I love feeling your dick up my ass."

Melissa watched lazily as Serena was thrust repeated against the marble top, groaning and panting. Melissa could hear Erik's groans as his panting merged with Serena's. Melissa watched as Serena's face grimaced in pre-orgasmic intensity. Erik roared behind her as he came, slamming Serena forward once, then twice again, before fading away. Melissa could see Serena's frustration as her second orgasm slipped away, just out of reach.

Behind her, Melissa could hear Erik catching his breath. She lay still, recovering from her own bewildering punishment and orgasm, while Serena lay breathing heavily next to her. Erik announced in a deliberately pompous tone, "Well, I feel better now. You girls get cleaned up and dressed for dinner. You've got... forty minutes."

He walked away. Melissa wasn't sure she trusted her muscles yet to pull herself off the counter. Serena wasn't moving either.

From outside the door to his bedroom, he called back up to them, "Forty minutes! Get a move on, else I'll have to punish you again."

At that warning, Serena started to push herself back off the counter. Melissa joined her, unsteadily regaining her feet. She reached back to gently touch her buttocks, unsure of what it looked like, but knowing that it still stung. Serena stumbled back and looked at Melissa's rear. She snorted derisively and asked, "What the hell got into him?" She reached back to gingerly feel her own butt. "He's not usually that... forceful. At least he usually lets a girl work up to it."

Melissa replied, "I don't know. Mrs. Grady was teasing him about something. I'm not sure what."

Serena nodded, "Note for future reference: be careful when teasing Erik. He's fine, up to a point. Then he's not. Also, never tease him about not being able to keep a girlfriend. He's a little prickly about the whole "Peter Pan" no commitment thing."

"Yeah, I guess that was what Mrs. Grady was saying. Something about not being willing to make a house a home, or something like that."

"Yep, that makes sense. By the way, it's Abigail. Everyone only calls her Mrs. Grady around Erik."

"Okay. That's kind of weird."

Serena shrugged, "Well, losing his mom, then having to live with his bitch-ass grandmother, the guy's a little weird about women in his home. Personally, I think Abigail intimidates him. She's not part of any of this stuff, but it doesn't scare her or anything. Says it's a proud British tradition, tolerating 'eccentricity' in the upper class. Anyhow, I've seen her land some zingers on him from time to time." She paused to gingerly rub her bottom. "I've just never been on the receiving end of it."

"But you, I mean, you had an orgasm, right? Or were you faking it?"

"No, I came alright. Almost got that second one too, dammit! I do like a good spanking, plus getting walloped next to you was kind of cool. I could see that it was hard for you too, but you were also into it, which was a major-league turn-on. And... I've had some clients who like dishing it out a little rough. It's okay, but I don't like a steady diet of it. Plus, it's a little rough on the body. Strokes like that are going to leave bruises for a day or two."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I charge them extra. With the right build-up, it can be a really intense session. Erik – he knows how to build up to that level. So when he doesn't do a build-up, it's on purpose, which isn't usually like him. I mean, still, he was careful. Like, we both had serious orgasms and he didn't leave any lasting marks."

With that, Serena turned and presented her rear end to Melissa. "What does it look like?"

"Wow, you've got three red lines right across both cheeks. It's... it's almost kind of cute, how each line fades away across the butt crack and then matches with its pair on the other side."

"Yeah, well he knows how to mark a girl. Took me awhile to learn how to get that exactly right, for my clients who are into that stuff." Serena walked over to pick up her discarded clothing.

"That's right, you're into both sides."

"Yep, a 'Switch'." Serena continued up the stairs to retrieve her bags.

Melissa called after her, "So, what's that like?"

Serena came back down with a knowing grin, "You'll see. Anyway, we'd better get ready. I, at least, have had enough of being a bottom for awhile."

Melissa gathered up her clothes and followed Serena back to her guest room. When she walked in, she saw that there were a pair of thigh-high black leather lace-up boots lying on her bed. Unsurprisingly, the heels were at least five inches tall. Serena looked at them and said, "Oh good, FedEx got here."

Melissa asked, "Those are for me?"

"Sure," Serena replied, reaching into a bag, "and this too." She brought out something in frothy black lace and set it next to the boots. Then she reached back into the bag and brought out a fascinator. It had a spray of black netting attached to the merest suggestion of a black hat with a black satin bow on top and several iridescent purplish-black feathers sweeping out the back.

Melissa took it from her gingerly, "That's gorgeous! I always had hats for Easter. It never seemed right to wear them at other times, even though I always wanted to.

"You're in luck. Erik loves women dressed in hats and high heels... and not much else."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Melissa set down the hat and picked up the black lace garment, trying to figure it out. There was a rigid "C" shaped open hoop at one end.

"Here." Serena took the black lace from her. Prying the hoop open slightly, she slid it around Melissa's waist from the side, then rotating it ninety degrees so the opening faced to the front, then she settled it down on Melissa's hips. The lace bustled out to the back, before draping to the floor, like a Victorian skirt. The front, however, left her completely open and naked. Melissa was fairly certain that Queen Victoria would not have been amused.

Serena, on the other hand, nodded approvingly. "With those boots and the fascinator, that's going to look really hot." She looked in the other bag. "The rest is all for me." Then she made shooing motions to Melissa. "Go on, get showered. We've got maybe a half an hour."

Melissa nodded, then struggled to get the skirt off. Serena quickly reached to help her.

Melissa asked, "Do you need to shower too?"

"I showered before I left." Then she reached around behind her. As she brought her hand back, she wiped it on her thigh, leaving glistening streaks. "I forgot. Now I've got cum dribbling out of my ass. I better hop in too." Suddenly, Serena snapped her fingers, "Damn, I nearly forgot. Do you do anal?"

"Ah, well, I guess so. A few times. You mean anal intercourse?"

"Yeah."

"I have, but Erik's kind of big. I mean, doesn't it hurt?"

"No. I actually really like taking it up the ass. But I enema myself out first, so everything's empty and clean. Then I shoot a little grease up inside — if I'm not sure there's going to be lubricant around. The books all say that petroleum jelly isn't good for inside of you, but it's a hell of a lot better than a dry butt fuck. When I get carried away, sometimes I'm not as careful about making sure the guy's lubed up first. But anyway, when you get some practice, taking it up the ass is easier.

Serena waved dismissively, "Besides, Erik's always careful. While he was fucking you, he stuck a finger in my cunt to rub my g-spot and then put his thumb up my ass to open it up. I mean, he's always careful to ease a finger in and expand my ass slowly. By the time he's ready to stick his dick in, I'm all ready for him. Hell the way he strokes my g-spot while his thumb is pushing my ass open, I'm more than hot and ready."

Melissa nodded slowly. "I suppose that's not TMI."

"Too much information?"

Melissa nodded again.

Serena laughed, "Well, the point is, the shower has an enema wand, just waiting for you. So we better hurry, if we're going to get you cleaned out, showered, and dressed."

"Oh boy, how much more fun can I pack into one day?"

"I don't know. How much do you think you can pack into that cute little ass of yours?"

"I'm not sure," Melissa responded innocently, "how much do you think you can shove in there?"

Serena laughed and gave her a gentle shove toward the bathroom. "Hurry!"

Both women were giggling as Melissa turned on the shower to get it warm. Serena turned on the flow to a long shower hose with a black silicone end piece that was about a foot long and a half inch in diameter. Water flowed gently out of its black rounded tip. Once Serena got the flow rate and temperature right, she told Melissa, "Turn around; bend over."

Melissa hesitated. Serena pointedly said, "Time's a tickin'."

With a grimace, Melissa turned around and braced herself against the shower wall. Serena rubbed a little KY Jelly along the length of the tip of the enema wand. Then she squirted some more on her finger. She rubbed her finger against Melissa's tight, puckered hole until Melissa was able to relax and Serena's finger slipped in. Once inside, Serena took a moment to massage Melissa's sphincter, relaxing it even further. Then she slid her finger out and replaced it with the enema wand. Melissa took a sharp intake of breath as the length of the wand slid past her narrow ring of muscle, seating itself inside her.

The flow of water pushed into Melissa, filling her up. Serena warned her, "When I pull the wand out, hold tight. Don't let it back out or we'll be cleaning up the shower. The first wash or two is always loaded with crap. It takes a few rounds before everything runs clean. Then you can play around with shooting stuff all over the place."

"Eew."

"Hey, don't knock till you've tried it. Some guys really love to fill you up with warm heavy cream and then watch it come shooting out in a stream. You never know what gets somebody off. There's even people who get into making an anal fruit smoothie, and then drinking it. That goes too far for me, though. I've turned down that request a couple of times, thank you very much."

Melissa listened with growing incredulity, while she clamped down hard on the nozzle, terrified that it would come loose and she would spray disgusting stuff all over the bathroom. The growing fullness inside her, however, was far more arousing than she had imagined. Trying to stay focused on holding the plug tight, she asked, "Please tell me you're joking about the fruit smoothie?"

"No. I mean, after a few rounds, everything comes out clean. I'm sure the fruit smoothie thing would have been fine, but it was just too weird. I don't do scat, and that was way too close. Besides, he wasn't willing to pay enough."

"You're incorrigible."

"Glad you noticed." Serena reached down for the wand. "Now relax a little bit. I'm going to slip this out of you." Slowly, she drew the black silicone wand back out. Melissa moaned involuntarily as the last bit slid past her sphincter and popped out.

Serena smiled at Melissa's reaction and asked, "Sort of fun, huh?"

"Different than I expected."

"Hold it in as long as you can. When you have to, hop out onto the toilet and let go. Then you can get back in and finish cleaning off."

Both women started soaping each other up in the shower together. Melissa grinned lewdly and asked, "Didn't we already do this once today?"

Serena laughed. She stepped forward, pressing Melissa up against the side of the shower, kissing her long and slow. As they separated, Melissa protested, "I thought you said you didn't especially like doing it with women?"

Serena laughed again and rebutted, "I thought you said you didn't either."

"Ah well..."

Serena arched her wet eyebrows, then relaxed into a smile, "Sometimes it's nice."

Melissa nodded her agreement. Serena leaned back in, but then stopped and said, "Shit, we're running out of time. Hop out and dump your load, I've got to wash up."

Melissa stepped out, dripping wet. She carefully maneuvered herself onto the toilet. She only had to relax minutely and everything seemed to shoot out of her. The sudden release of pressure was very weirdly erotic. She closed the lid, without flushing, afraid of scalding Serena. Then she got back in the shower and let Serena soap up her butt.




Summer Hire Ch. 13



Once she rinsed off, Serena turned off the water and they both tumbled out of the shower, giggling. They quickly helped each other dry off. Serena gathered Melissa's hair up into a pony tail and wound it onto the top of her head, pinning it in place with bobby pins.

Hurrying back into the bedroom. Serena helped Melissa lace up her boots, which came above mid-thigh. In turn, Melissa helped Serena lace up a black corset. Serena had a similar skirt to Melissa's. As she put it on, Melissa could still see the red lines across Serena's buttocks, only slightly diminished. Melissa put on her own skirt and let Serena attach the fascinator above where she had bobby-pinned Melissa's pony tail.

Finally, Serena pulled a pair of lace-up Victorian ankle boots with six inch heels out of her bag. She looked at them ruefully, complaining, "The things I do for Erik."

As soon as she got the ankle boots on and laced up, they rushed for the door, as best they could in their heels. At the end of the hall, they slowed down to make their formal entrance into the dining area. Erik was waiting for them, dressed in a black cut-away jacket, black silk breeches, riding boots, white shirt, and black cravat.

He had a gold watch in his hand, dangling from a chain attached to a black silk waistcoat. He looked up at them and announced, "Just on time."

He waved them over to the table, where he had set out the food that Abigail Grady had brought. It was a collection of tea sandwiches, fruits, and small pastries.

"You two women look lovely. Before you sit down, however, show me your behinds."

Melissa looked to Serena, who gave her a quick smile of encouragement. Then Serena turned away from Erik, bent over to grasp her ankle with one hand, and pulled her lace skirt away with the other hand. Melissa pivoted smoothly, following Serena and mimicking her pose.

Erik walked behind them, his hand caressing lightly along their paired buttocks. "Very nice. Perfectly striped. Really quite lovely."

He sighed. "Well then, we'd best eat. There'll be more... entertainment later."

As the two women straighten up and walked to the table, Erik popped the cork from a bottle of champaign and poured them all glasses. He held his champagne flute aloft, "To new beginnings."

Both women joined his toast, echoing, "To new beginnings."

One sip of the champaign left Melissa lightheaded. She realized she was famished. Between Mistress Amy, the session with Mike, and all the sex, her level of exercise was much higher than normal. Too fuel all that, however, she had eaten less than usual. She smiled to herself, thinking she was sure to lose a couple of pounds a week at this pace. It struck her as a fun way to diet.

She was careful not to pile too much food onto her plate. Erik and Serena were only taking small portions. Since they knew what was coming next, it looked as though eating light would be a good idea for her as well.

Erik asked, "So you never really said, how did things go with Mike? What did you learn?"

"Well," Melissa laughed, "mostly falling down."

Serena gave her a puzzled look.

"He called it break-falls, which was really just learning how to get thrown to the ground without being hurt. Then he showed me how to roll away from a break-fall and have that roll carry me back up to my feet, hopefully out of reach of whoever had knocked me down. Once I got the hang of it, it was kind of cool, but I'm sore."

Erik nodded, "Yeah, it gets easier with practice."

"That's what Mike said. Sort of like ballet, I guess. Anyway, he also showed me this wrist thing, like when a guy grabs your shirt front, how to take the back of his hand and twist it around, so his wrist is all bent back. It's pretty amazing, I mean, I could just go 'zip' and I had him all twisted up, so he couldn't move."

Erik nodded again, "When you have somebody like that, it only takes a few pounds of pressure to break somebody's wrist."

"Yeah, it's kind of scary. Right at the end, Mike showed me how the wrist move can be continued so you can put somebody on the ground. Then you've got their shoulder, elbow, and wrist, all at the same time. He said it'd be easy for me to break all three joints, not matter how strong the guy is. And when he showed the move on me, I could believe it. Ouch! We're going to work on learning that move tomorrow. Plus break-falls. He said we'll do those every day."

Erik nodded. "Practicing that stuff over and over again is the only way to make it unconscious. Then you can do it without thinking about it. After I had worked with Mike for a year or so, some drunk guy at a kink thing tried throwing a punch at me. I didn't even have a chance to think about it. I just blocked his punch, turned his momentum into a hip throw, put him on the ground. When he landed, I had him wrapped up in that arm lock you were talking about. The whole damn thing went by so fast, I didn't really think about what was happening, at least until he started puking all over the floor." Erik shook his head disgustedly, "He'd been drinking way too much."

Serena asked, "So then what happened?"

"The monitors threw him out, really fast. I don't know, they must have put him in a taxi or something. Then the club black-balled him. I haven't really seen him around. I think he was just a poser. Probably a bully. Those types get nervous as all hell about going to a kink club and use too much liquid courage. It was at Marco's. They're not as careful as they should be about the bar."

Serena snorted. "Tell me about it."

Melissa gave her an questioning look, so Serena explained, "Kink, and BDSM in particular, can get pretty intense. Everyone really needs to be aware, have a careful sense of where everyone else is at, so it all stays safe. If someone's drunk, or drugging, or even just had an off day, they can be dangerous. Everyone's got to have their head in the game."

Erik continued, "Most clubs have a two drink limit. The bartenders aren't supposed to serve you anything but soda if they think that you've already been drinking, or drugging. There's also monitors who walk around, keeping an eye on things, making sure that people don't get out of line. Everyone wants to keep it safe. But Marco has a reputation for playing it a little looser. I don't go there much."

Serena agreed, "I only go there if I'm with a guy I really trust. Marco lets too many wanna-be's and freaks in. Sometimes, you know, Marco can have an edgy, cool sort of vibe, but most of the time, I'd rather be somewhere that really gets, 'safe, sane, consensual.'"

Erik nodded his agreement.

Melissa said hesitantly, "So, I saw the 'safe, sane, consensual' thing on the web..." Serena made a face at her.

Melissa retorted, "Yeah, well this is all kind of new for me. I spent some time last weekend, on the Internet, trying to figure out what the hell I might be getting myself into."

Serena shrugged an apology.

Melissa continued, "So anyway, is this 'safe, sane, consensual' thing real?"

Erik gave a wave to Serena, inviting her to respond. She said, "Hell yes. I won't touch anybody who doesn't sign up to being safe, sane, and consensual. And everyone I know feels the same way. That's what makes the kink world different from the creeps. I mean, it's like the difference between a client who's got a youth fetish and wants me to dress up like a teenager, versus some sick bastard who rapes children. My client is a responsible adult with a kinky fantasy. The sick bastard is a criminal who should be thrown in jail for the rest of his fucking life. They're just stupid fucking sociopaths who don't give a shit about anyone else."

Erik said, "Gosh Serena, don't try to hold back so much. You should tell us how you really feel."

Serena growled back at him.

Erik grimaced and turned to Melissa. "The thing is, I agree. One hundred percent. Serena's right — it's about fundamentally respecting other people. Even earlier, here in the kitchen, I know that whipping you like that might have looked non-consensual to an outside observer. The truth is, though, you both have safe words. And, of course, I also happen to know that both of you actually really like being spanked. On the other hand, though, I was guilty of deliberately upping the intensity faster than I let your endorphins kick in. I purposefully made it feel more like pain than pleasure. Now some of that was to remind you who is the Master around here. But that's not nearly reason enough. That doesn't make it 'okay'. It was only 'safe, sane,consensual' because I know you're both aroused by submitting. There's something fundamentally arousing to both of you when you make yourself the instrument of someone else's pleasure. Plus, I was also pretty sure I was only whipping you inside your limits. More than that, I trusted you to tell me if it wasn't, just like you trusted me to stop if you used your safe word."

Sabrina smiled, "Glad to know it had nothing to do with how much you like whipping a girl."

Erik laughed. "Oh, I very much enjoy whipping you. Both of you. I love to see you bent over, the perfect rounds of your buttocks quivering as I whip them."

Melissa cursed herself for the instant clench of anticipation she felt between her legs, reacting to the matter-of-fact way that he spoke about her enjoyment of submission and whipping. Part of her still wanted to deny it, although the wet spot she was certain that she had just created on the seat cushion provided solid evidence about how her feelings truly ran.

Sabrina complained, "I looked when we got dressed. You left nicer stripes on her than me."

Erik replied with a cruel smile, "Well then, we'll have to work on that, won't we?"

Sabrina ducked her head, smiling, "Yes Master."

Erik looked over to the kitchen clock. "Speaking of which, we should really be getting down to the patio." He stood up and took both women on his arms. Then he led them down the steps to the lower level and through the sliding glass doors to the patio.

The sun was low in the sky and the day had cooled somewhat, but the air was still warm against Melissa's naked skin. Her thigh-high boots were strange to walk in, especially on the stairs. They came so high that her knees didn't flex easily. The boots reminded her of a pair of skinny jeans she had from teenage years that she didn't really wear any more. The jeans didn't have any spandex, just denim. Unfortunately, those jeans had gotten so tight in the last couple of years that it was hard to walk. At least the leather boots were soft enough that she could walk somewhat naturally. It also helped that she had gotten more used to moving somewhat gracefully in high heels.

Looking around, she still marveled at how easily she accepted walking outside naked, wearing only thigh-high boots, a hat, and the back half of a skirt. She was also unsurprised that her labia were wet enough to be smoothly sliding past each other as she walked. Heightened arousal seemed to be her standard state with Erik.

"Oh good," Erik commented, "We seem to be all set up."

Melissa followed his gaze and saw a small horse cart set up out on the grass. It was small and lightweight, like the carts used in harness racing.

Serena cooed, "Oh, such a pretty sulky." She walked over the the patio wall. From a collection of items that were laid out on the wall, she picked up a long, flexible, black shaft with a floppy black leather tail on the far end. "And a whip! What a surprise. But where's the pony?" She turned to face Erik and pouted, "A girl's got to have a pony."

Erik gave out a loud whistle. Around the curve of the hill, a nearly naked man appeared, trotting in a peculiar gait. Melissa realized he was Joseph, from the saddle shop. He wore a black leather harness, along with head gear that had a cross piece in his mouth. There were black leather squares on either side of his face near his eyes, and black folds of leather sticking up on both sides of his head. He wore shoes that were almost high heels, except the base was large and heavy, and there was no heel.

Suddenly, Melissa realized that he was dressed to mimic a horse, which also helped explain his odd trotting gait. She had to stifle her natural reaction to laugh at such an odd appearance. Erik and Serena seemed to be treating his appearance very respectfully. After watching a while longer, she had to admit that, despite the odd costume, he was still both gorgeous and graceful.

Erik quietly told Melissa, "I noticed you seemed somewhat taken with him today. Master Drexler let me borrow him, so you could have your own little pony to train."

Melissa wasn't sure what reply to make, so she simply said, "Thank you."

Serena set down the whip and wandered over toward the sulky. Joseph trotted up to her and stopped. As he stopped, he turned to face Serena, showing Melissa his back. She could see that his arms were bound across his back and a dark horsetail seemed to rise up from the top of his buttocks and cascade towards the ground.

Serena reached out to stroke him, as though he actually were an animal, saying, "Nice pony. You're such a pretty boy. Nice pony."

Joseph shied away a little bit, appearing to be afraid. Then he stomped his hoof-shoe down in her direction and snorted.

Serena looked over to Erik and Melissa. "He's not quite broken to the saddle yet. I think he needs more training."

Erik nodded thoughtfully, leading Melissa on his arm over to the wall. He picked up a short riding crop and attached it to a clip that she hadn't noticed was part of her skirt's waist hoop. Then he picked up the longer whip, along with what looked like a very long black leather leash. Responding to Serena, he said, "Well, he's her pony. She'll have to learn how to train him." He gave the long whip and leash to Melissa, telling her, "Go on over to Serena. She'll show you what to do."

Melissa smiled uncertainly in response. She walked out to meet Serena, crossing the grass as best she could in her heels.

Serena was giving Joseph a disapproving look. She said to Melissa, "Clip the lead onto his bridle, but be careful, he's a bit untrained yet."

Melissa looked at the equipment in her hands and then back up at Serena, puzzled.

Serena said, "Here, give me the whip." Melissa complied. Then Serena said, "Now clip the lead onto the bridal ring alongside his cheek." Serena pointed at Joseph's head gear and Melissa could see where the leather straps where joined together with a metal ring alongside his cheek.

Serena saw Melissa hesitating, so she added, "You have to be confident and assertive. Never let a pony see indecision."

"Okay..." Melissa took the clip on the end of the lead in her free hand and walked over to Joseph. He backed up. When she stepped closer, he stomped at her.

Melissa turned back to Serena, not sure how to continue. In the distance, she saw Erik sitting on an Adirondack chair on the patio, looking very amused.

Serena dropped the whip to the ground and said, "Here, let me help you. I'll take the lead. Get your crop out, but don't let him see it."

Melissa knew Joseph could hear what Serena was saying, even if Serena was pretending he couldn't. Melissa decided to give up on seeing what was going on from an external perspective. It was too confusing. Instead she decided to play along with whatever the scene was supposed to be. She handed the lead to Serena and turned sideways to unclip the crop from her waist, holding it alongside her leg. Then she nodded her readiness to Serena.

The two women separated slightly and approached the pony/boy from either side. Joseph whinnied nervously and backed away. Without warning, Serena's hand suddenly shot out, grabbing him by his bridal. She quickly snapped on the lead. Joseph's eyes flew open wide. He jerked backwards, snorting loudly.

Serena called out, "Hit him!"

Melissa, startled by the commotion, tried hard to stay in character. She swung the crop stiff-armed and it bounced ineffectually off of his leg. Joseph turned and stomped at her, making her shrink backwards.

"Hit him harder! Or he'll charge you!"

Joseph's nostrils flared and he flung his head up as he stepped toward her. She swung again, this time with both fear and determination. The flat paddle at the end of the crop made a sharp "crack" sound against the side of his abdomen. He flinched away, stepping to the side before coming at her again.

"Hit him on the rear quarter. Keep on hitting him until he backs down!"

Growing determined, Melissa followed Serena's instructions with increasing willingness, raining blows upon Joseph's butt and upper thighs until he stopped charging her. They were both breathing heavily as Joseph finally hung his head in submission, turning partially away from her and standing still, trembling softly.

"Good, now pet him and tell him what a nice pony he is."

Melissa felt a awkward approaching Joseph in this weird role playing, especially after whipping him so vigorously. She pushed down her anxiety and followed Serena's instructions. Petting his shoulder and bicep, she softly repeated, "Good pony. You're a good little pony."

Joseph's breathing quietened. He turned his head to nuzzle her. In her boots, Melissa was a little taller than him. His head rubbed against her cheek.

Serena said softly, "Okay, let's take a time out from the scene and check in on how you're both doing. Joseph?"

He replied enthusiastically, "I'm doing great. That was a lot of fun. I love being a naughty pony. Melissa was awesome."

Melissa was shocked, both to hear Joseph suddenly talking and also at the transformation of the mood. It took her a moment to parse what he had said and realize that he really liked what had just happened. She was amazed to see how much she had been drawn into believing that he really was a recalcitrant pony that had to be whipped into obedience.

Serena turned to Melissa and asked, "Melissa, how about you?"

"Wow... I don't know. That was seriously weird. I guess I kind of got into it, but... well... I don't know."

Serena nodded her head at Melissa. "You seemed a little bit shaken there."

"Yeah. It was pretty intense. It helps a lot to know Joe, I mean Joseph, liked it." Melissa took a deep breath. She noticed Joseph clearly appreciated how her naked breasts expanded as she filled her lungs. With a quick glance, she saw that his penis was nearly erect. She decided he wasn't lying about really liking the scene.

She heard Erik clear his throat and was startled to realize that he had walked over. He had clearly seen how Joseph and Melissa had just checked each other out. A coy smile played around Erik's mouth as he said, "Remember Mel, it's okay if you don't like it playing a dominant role. When all is said and done, in fact, I'd be willing to bet a fair amount of money that you won't. My guess is you're more of a pure submissive, rather than a switch, like Serena. But I could be wrong. You might really like both sides."

Serena butted in, "Being a switch is way fun! Definitely the best of both worlds."

Erik gave Serena a mock look of disapproval at the interruption. Then he continued, "No matter what your final call is, though, it's really helpful to experience the other side. Even if you only enjoy being a sub, some time spent topping will give you a much better appreciation for what your role as a sub is all about."

Melissa looked off in the distance for a moment, considering the idea he'd brought up. Then she nodded, feeling a more settled sense of resolve. Turning back to Erik and Serena, she said "Got it. I think I understand now. And yeah, being on the other side is... hugely different. Not at all what I'd thought it was. You're right, I'm not sure I'm really into it. At least, not nearly the same way as I'm into it when you're on top. But I do get a sense of the intensity of being on top. It's sexually charged and all, but I'm so... foreign to it, I don't know that it really clicks for me."




Summer Hire Ch. 13



Erik smiled at her reassuringly. "That's fine. Actually, that's great. It sounds like you're connecting some dots."

Melissa cocked her head, puzzled by a new thought. She asked, "How about you? Did you ever try bottoming?"

He gave her a wry smile and said firmly, "We won't go there right now." He looked off at the sun for a moment, seeming to calculate how much time remained before sunset. Then he glanced down at Joseph's penis, which had reduced some in size during all the talking. Finally, Erik turned back to Melissa. "So, before poor Joseph completely deflates, are you ready to take the scene a bit further?"

"Ah, sure. Well, I mean, I'm not sure exactly how much more..."

"Don't worry," he reassured her. "We won't stress you too much more. In this direction, at least."

"Okay..."

Erik stepped back and waved to Serena, "You may carry on."

Serena said, "Sure. Well, ladies and ponies, clear your heads; take a deep breath; this time-out is over." After a pause, she continued, "Mistress Melissa, you've done a nice job breaking your pony to your will, but now you have to teach him how to trot at command, and do it with proper form."

Bending down, Serena picked up the long whip and handed it to Melissa. "You'll need this. Put the crop back on your waist hook." Melissa complied. "Good, now hold the whip in your right hand." Melissa transferred the whip to her right hand. "Hold it a little closer to the base. It's springy, so you want to get a good snap out of it." Serena showed her how to hold the whip and flick it, so the loose leather tail on the end of the flexible shaft came alive. "Yes, like that. With a little practice, you can decide which of his balls to hit."

Melissa blanched and Serena giggled, reassuring her, "Don't worry. I was just kidding." She reached up to stroke Joseph's face. "You don't want to hurt this pretty little pony. Well not too much. He's such a cute little thing."

Serena handed the other end of the black leather lead to Melissa and told her, "Now walk over there, until the lead is mostly tight."

Melissa walked further out onto the lawn, to where Serena had indicated. Then Serena stepped away from the pony/boy and told her, "Now you want to get him started. Give a little tug on the lead and then snap the whip at his rear to get him moving."

Melissa tugged softly on the leather lead, then flicked the whip so it passed behind Joseph. All he did, however, was stomp his foot in protest.

Serena called out, "You're going to have to actually hit him to get him to move. You're training him to know what the tug means. If you want, you can also sort of click your tongue to encourage him along." Serena paused a moment, then asked her. "Have you ever worked with ponies before, or ridden?"

Melissa laughed, "Not exactly in my income bracket."

Serena chuckled with her. "Know what you mean. So, just channel Elizabeth Taylor in National Velvet, or whatever other movie you saw of a girl with a horse."

Melissa thought a moment, then said, "Okay." Then she clicked her tongue and snapped the whip so it brushed past Joseph's rear. He moved forward a couple of steps, then halted.

"Don't forget to give a little tug on the lead, and you've really got to pop the whip."

Melissa gave Serena a frustrated smile. Then Melissa gave the lead a sharper tug and snapped the whip with a much more determined stroke. It landed across the small of Joseph's back. This time, he bolted forward in a somewhat disjointed run.

"That's good. Now put a little pressure on the lead to slow him down. That's better. When you whip him, though, try for the rear quarters."

Joseph slowed to a walk. Serena called out, "Okay, keep him going."

Melissa flicked out the whip again, this time with better aim. She was surprised to hear the "thwack" of the leather strap against his butt. Once again, he bolted and she worked on getting him slowed down. She had to alternate between using the whip and the lead to try to get him into an even trot. Every time she thought she had it, he would start to slow down again.

After a few minutes, she started to get better control. She could also see some red marks developing on his butt cheek. She shook her head in wonder, amazed that she had become so focused on the game of "training her pony". For awhile, she had lost any external point of view. That external point of view still seemed vaguely ridiculous to her.

Joseph started to slow again, while she had been distracted. He looked more frustrated this time, as though he had noticed her wandering attention, even though the blinders on his head gear kept him from seeing her. She snapped the whip again, clicking her tongue more firmly. He responded quickly.

The realization struck her that this scene was very important to him. He seemed to revel in the fantasy, even if she found it silly. It didn't seem fair to him if she wasn't serious and committed to the scene. He had trusted her with something that was special to him. She felt she had an obligation in return.

She laughed quietly to herself, realizing that gaining this insight was likely why Erik and Serena had set up this whole evening.

Joseph started to slow once again, with his head drooping down. This time, Melissa called out firmly, "You naughty little pony. I'll teach you to misbehave." With that, she flicked out the whip, landing a firm stroke across both of his butt cheeks. He jerked his head up and resumed his speed. Melissa could see the red mark from her lash stroke. It was much more clearly defined than her earlier efforts.

She smiled at his renewed spirit and called out, "Get those knees up. You call that a trot?" She crouched down a little bit in order to land the next whip stroke diagonally across her last one. She was a little off in her aim, but the effect seemed to make an immediate difference in his gait.

Over the next several minutes, she gave him constant corrections, backed up by frequent strokes of the whip. He quickly had a raging erection, flopping up and down with every hoof beat. Finally, he was winded, so she pulled him to a halt.

She walked over to him, hands on her hips. "You are such a bad little pony. Just a naughty thing. I just don't know what to do with you. And look at this thing..." She slid the shaft of her whip across his rampant penis. "What am I to do with this? It totally ruins your form." She stepped closer, shaking her head. "Perhaps I should sell you."

Behind Joseph, she looked over at Serena, who gave her a big grin. Then she looked over to Erik. He had returned to his Adirondack chair. He grinned and made a silent clapping motion, indicating his approval.

Melissa stepped back, considering Joseph. She pointed at his erect penis. "That is just a naughty pony." Turning to Serena, she demanded, "Why did you give me such a bad little pony?" She stomped over to Serena, as best she could in her boots, even though her heels sank into the turf at every step. She reached down to snatch her crop from her waist and pointed it at Joseph, commanding Serena, "Get over there and fix that thing. It's all swollen up."

Serena ducked her head and hurried over to Joseph, saying, "Yes mistress. I'm so sorry mistress. I didn't know he'd be so naughty."

Serena leaned close to Joseph and whispered loudly, "You bad little pony. Now you've gotten me in trouble with the mistress. We'll both be beaten for sure."

Melissa called out loudly, "I don't have all day."

Serena bobbed a quick curtsey, "Yes mistress." Then she bent over from the waist, taking his penis into her mouth. At the same time, she rotated the c-hoop of her skirt waist around, so that the open portion now exposed her rear.

Melissa walked back to them, considering the scene for a moment. Then she cracked the crop across Serena's bottom, adding a red blotch from the crop's head to the three stripes that already criss-crossed her buttocks. "You're not trying hard enough. Make it go away," she demanded shrilly. Then she brought the crop smartly across Joseph's buttocks, adding, "You're such a bad little pony. I should just beat you silly."

She could see Joseph's chest shudder and his back arch. Serena continued to stuff him into her mouth, one hand firmly around the base of his shaft. Melissa swung the crop across Serena's other buttock, giving her a matching red spot on that check. "You're still not trying hard enough!"

Serena redoubled her efforts, bouncing her head vigorously in and out, around the head of his penis. Melissa saw Joseph's eyes start to roll back. She smacked the crop across his bottom several more times, punctuating every word as she commanded, "I. Want. You. To. Cum. Right. Now!"

Joseph shuddered, filling Serena's mouth with cum, much of which came shooting back out as she continued to pump her head up and down on his nearly purple member. Finally, Joseph's copious supply of cum was exhausted and he slumped back. Serena stood up and straightened her skirt. Cum ran down her chin.

Melissa stepped up, cupping hand to catch the cum and prevent it from dripping on Serena's beautiful corset. Melissa shook her head disapprovingly, "Messy, messy, messy." With a frustrated sigh, Melissa asked, "Do I have to do everything around here?" Stepping closer, Melissa licked most of the cum from Serena's chin, and transferred it to Serena's mouth with a long and very sloppy kiss.

To her surprise, Joseph's cum had a sweeter and cleaner taste than she had ever experienced before. She found herself really enjoying kissing Serena, with the taste of Joseph spread liberally throughout both of their mouths. Melissa pressed her body against Serena. Melissa used her empty hand to hold Serena's head in tightly against her. She felt the fabric of Serena's corset firmly against her own naked breasts.

Melissa slowly broke from the kiss, only to finish licking Serena's chin clean. Then she held out her hand, puddled with Joseph's remaining cum. Melissa insisted, "Well?"

Serena, ducked her head apologetically. "Yes mistress. Sorry mistress." She quickly licked it clean. With an edge of sarcasm, Serena said, "Thank you ever so fucking much Mistress, since you know how much I crave the taste of cum."

Melissa quirked a smile, "Serves you right."

With a satisfied sigh, Melissa surveyed the scene and finally stepped away. 

She turned to see that Erik was now sitting on the patio wall, clearly approving of how the scene had turned out. Turning back to Joseph, Melissa reached out to stroke his cheek. "That's a good pony. See. Everything is better now. You just have to follow your mistress' commands."

Erik called out softly, "Nicely done. I am quite impressed. How did it feel?"

Melissa considered his question thoughtfully. Breaking the mood of the scene, she answered, "I get the idea much better. But I agree with you, I don't think I'm really cut out to be a dom."

Serena protested, "Could have fooled me."

Joseph agreed, "Me too." He rubbed his butt gingerly. "Ow!" Then he gave Melissa a smile to show that he was only teasing.

Melissa grinned back at both of them, then explained, "It's not that I wasn't happy about what I was able to do, at least once I figured it out. It's just that it wasn't actually a whole lot of fun on my end."

Serena gave her a questioning look.

Melissa continued, "I was too worried about everyone else and if I was doing things right... Yeah, I know it seemed to be working pretty well. I could feel that. It's just that it took so much concentration, I didn't have any time for my own fun. I don't know; maybe I'm just too selfish. I like it better when I'm on the receiving end and somebody else has to do all the work. Then I can just sort of float along and enjoy it."

Melissa looked at Serena and Erik. "I don't know how you guys do it."

Serena protested once more, "But you're so good at it."

Erik said, "Yeah, but if it's constant work, then it's really hard for it to be fun. I get that. You see, for me, all the effort of creating a scene is more than rewarded by the joy of guiding the scene, taking the other person somewhere that they really love. When it works well, I get a huge rush. I love feeling that creative control. More than that, though, I love taking away someone's hang-ups and self-conscious fears, freeing them to the point where they're just a complete sexual creature. Then it's like they're blazing with sexual energy. They really love it, and for me, I feed and channel that energy, taking it to the point where all the other person desperately wants to do is satisfy me. That's a huge... I don't know, ego-boost? Reward?"

Serena offered, "God complex?"

He laughed, shaking his head. Turning more serious again, he walked over to Melissa and said quietly, "I think the awesome thing is how brightly and naturally you burn with that sexual energy. It truly doesn't take much to release it." He caressed her face, smiling. "It is very special, your Yin, to my Yang."

Turning back to Serena, he tried to shake off his serious mood by joking, "And you've got both the Yin and Yang inside you. You don't need any of us. You're perfect all by yourself."

She sardonically replied, "Lucky me."

He shrugged apologetically. Melissa could see Erik's realization that he had just openly expressed an affection for her that he would never feel for Serena, no matter how comfortable he and Serena might be together or how long they had known each other. Melissa was filled with a deeply bittersweet joy.

Serena had clearly heard the same message. She reached out and took Melissa's hands, giving her a squeeze and a smile, fighting back tears.

Erik turned back toward the house, walking away from the feelings he had stirred up. He called out, "I'll get some lemonade for everyone."

Serena resolutely answered, "That sounds good."

Melissa ducked her head, embarrassed for being the cause of Serena's hurt. Serena tugged on her hands, saying, "Come on, let's go sit down." The she called out to Joseph, "Stay there pony. We'll water you later."

Melissa and Serena walked back to the patio, holding hands. Melissa whispered, "I'm sorry."

Serena shook her head angrily, tears now streaming down her cheeks. "I'm grateful for what I have. I've always known it wouldn't be anything else. I never let myself be fooled into thinking anything else." With her free hand, she wiped the tears aside. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm blubbering like this. Really, it's just what I've always known."

Then Serena turned to Melissa and whispered fiercely, "Don't you blow it! And don't you hurt him either!"

Melissa promised. "I won't."

"Okay." Serena sank down into one of the Adirondack chairs. "Let's just sit for a minute." Melissa sat in the chair next to her, still holding Serena's hand.

After a minute's shared silence, Melissa asked in frustration, "What is it about him that inspires such love and such strong friends. I've known him less than a fucking week, and I'm falling for him in a huge way. Goddamn it!"

Serena laughed, "Oh I don't know. How about, he's gorgeous, smart as hell, rich, sensitive, loving, an amazing dom... hell, in fifteen thousand ways, he's larger than life. And hidden away, in the middle of all that, there's a lost, hurt, little boy. Come on, what woman ever born wouldn't fall for that? In an instant?"

Melissa laughed bitterly. "Okay. Yeah. You've got a point."

Behind them, they heard the sliding glass doors open and the rattle of ice as Erik carried a tray of lemonade-filled glasses out. He set the tray down on the patio wall and turned to face them. For the first time that Melissa could recall, she saw some uncertainty in his eyes. He clearly knew that what he told Melissa must have hurt Serena.

He picked up two glasses and brought them over. After seeing that both women were now in a lighter mood, he returned to more of his normal self as well. The women gratefully accepted their cool glasses. He went back to get his, then paused, looking out at Joseph, who stood, ever gracefully and patiently on the lawn. Erik shook his head. "I have to admit, I'm not a real aficionado of pony play. How the hell is he supposed to drink?"

Serena stood up, "Ha! I'll show you." She sauntered over to retrieve the last glass on the tray, complaining about "rank amateurs" and "posers" under her breath. Taking the glass out to the 'pony', she slipped her fingers over the top of the glass to retain its ice, and then slowly upended the glass over his upturned face. He drank greedily as the lemonade overfilled his mouth, spilling down his chin and chest.

When the glass was empty, Serena returned with the same sauntering walk, announcing, "We'll have to hose him off when we're done, or he'll get all sticky."

"Sure you don't want him all sticky?"

Serena cast a long glance back at Joseph, then turned back to Erik and Melissa. She said quietly, "Way too pretty for me. Besides, I'm fairly certain he likes boys better."

Erik agreed, "Tis true. But now that you've got him cooled off, perhaps he could take you for a ride?"

Serena looked out over the lawn at the sulky. She protested, "But the sulky is set up for two ponies, not one. Of course... that would be why you have the extra set of gear." She pointed at a clutter of black leather straps and other objects lying on the patio wall. "Don't you dare think I'm going to wear that. I'll ride a pony, but I don't pull a cart. Nope. Not going to happen."

Erik put his hands on his hips, feigning a perplexed state. He asked, "Well, who could we get to be the other pony?"

As though on cue, they both turned to stare at Melissa. Her response was, "Oh shit."

"Melissa, my dear," Erik began, "we have a wonderful opportunity for you to learn a new skill."

"Fuck you."

"Yes my dear, don't worry. Serena and I will be right here. We're willing to do whatever it takes to get you properly outfitted and prepared." 

"Meaning hit me over the head and tie me up?"

"Well certainly, if you prefer. But it would probably be much easier if you just came over here."

"You'd have to catch me first."

"Alas," he replied, pointedly looking at her thigh-high, high heeled boots, "that won't be terribly difficult."

"Oh shit."

"Yes, you mentioned that before. Although I thought that Serena had strict instructions to give you an enema..."

Serena interjected brightly, "Yes sir, clean as a whistle."

Melissa pouted, "Look who's sucking up to the boss now."

"Hey, as long as I don't have to pull that damn cart, I'll suck anyone off."

"Humph! You'd suck anyone off anyway."

"True, but that's beside the point. Tell you what, stay right there. It'll be easier to change your footwear while you're sitting down anyway."

Melissa crossed her arms in mock frustration, while Erik and Serena brought the heap of gear over to her. She offered only grudging help as they transformed her into pony to match Joseph. They made her stand to put the harness on and then bind her arms behind her back. Fortunately, balancing in the hoof-shoes was easier than she had feared.

Serena kissed her softly on the lips before slipping the metal and plastic bit into her mouth and buckling the bridal around her head. Melissa was grateful that the part of the bit that contacted her teeth was all plastic. She felt Serena unpinning her pony tail, allowing it to hang down behind her.

Erik held up a long horse's tail that nearly matched the reddish blond color of Melissa's hair. He said brightly to Serena, "Oh look, it attaches the same way as Mistress Amy's clever little device."

Melissa involuntarily stepped back, trying to put distance between her and the double dildo end of the tail.

"Oops, Serena, I think you're going to need to get the crop ready."

Unable to talk, Melissa stamped her hoof in frustration. She was completely surprised when the "whack" of the crop impacted her right butt cheek almost immediately.




Summer Hire Ch. 13



"Already had it in hand," Serena said proudly.

"Oh good. Clever girl. Now if you could just help me hold her still, I'll pop this into place in no time."

Melissa turned to stare at Serena accusingly. The blinders on either side of her head meant she had to turn completely to see anything around her, which is how Serena had surprised her with the crop.

Serena smiled pleasantly in response to Melissa's angry stare, then she tucked the crop under one arm, reached up with both hands, and captured Melissa's nipples between her thumb and forefingers. Serena called out to Erik, "Don't worry, I have her." Melissa's eyes widened, until Serena could see the whites all the way around her irises.

"Excellent," replied Erik, "but could you get her to bend over a bit."

"No problem." Serena pinched harder, pulling down and forward. Melissa shrieked against the bit in her mouth and quickly bent over at the waist to reduce the pain.

"Oh that's much better. Thank you ever so much."

"Absolutely, not a problem."

Melissa felt pressure against her rectum, while simultaneously something else slid partway into her vagina. Erik slowly pulsated the pressure against her rear as the tightness of her sphincter reluctantly relaxed and the butt plug worked its way deeper inside her. Finally, the butt plug's maximum girth passed into her and the remainder of the plug slipped in quickly.

"There we go. Let me just cinch up this harness strap to help keep everything in place... Can you get her to straighten up?"

"Sure, anything to help."

This time, Melissa tried to follow Serena as quickly as she could, so Serena wouldn't have to pinch any tighter.

"Oh that's perfect," Erik said, stepping back to admire their handiwork.

Serena finally let go of Melissa's aching nipples and stepped back to join him in admiring her. "She is indeed exquisite. Wow, it would almost be worth going through all that fuss and bother, just to look that good. Almost. Not quite. But almost."

Melissa stomped her hoof again in frustration. As she moved her leg, however, the harness strap that ran between her legs put the most delightful pressure on her sex. She realized that her wetness had already thoroughly lubricated the leather. The strap was tight enough that it had pushed apart her labia and wet leather strap lay between them. Every time she moved, the slick leather slid back and forth over her clitoris. The feeling was so intense, she wasn't sure she would be able to walk.

Erik brushed off his hands and said, "Let's get them hitched up."

Serena slipped a finger under Melissa's bridal and tugged her forward. "Come on little pony. Let's get you all hitched up. You and the other little pony are going to pull me in that adorable little sulky. Melissa followed along behind, dazed.

Serena turned to watch her, walking backwards, which, in a lucid moment, Melissa thought was quite an achievement in her heels. Serena stopped, with a disappointed pout. "You are such a lazy, naughty pony. Your form is terrible. You need to lift your legs." She swung the crop. "Whack." Melissa lifted her front leg, wobbling on the other.

Serena walked around her, hidden from view by her blinders. "Higher!" "Whack." "Straighten that back!" "Whack." "Head up!" "Whack."

Melissa found herself vibrating from the unexpected blows. Serena came back into view. "Better." Catching her bridal again, Serena led her over to the sulky, where Erik was already connecting Joseph's harness to the cross bar in front. Serena arranged Melissa next to Joseph and started attaching her as well.

Erik finished on his side and stepped back to assess their work. "They do make a gorgeous pair of ponies. Well matched. Almost makes me wish I had taken more of an interest in pony play."

"I don't know Erik," Serena said as she finished off, "you're not really a horsey kind of guy."

"But look at them," he gestured, "aren't they magnificent." Melissa tossed her head and pawed the turf with her hoof.

Serena joined him and agreed, "Makes me wet, just looking at them."

She picked up the long whip and climbed into the driver's seat, letting the long black lace back of her skirt drape down behind her. She gathered the reins in her hand and snapped her whip at the ponies. They started pulling with gusto, quickly breaking into a trot.

Serena called out, "Girlie, knees up." The tail of the whip cracked across Melissa's buttocks, adding a new, if marginally fainter, red mark. Melissa tried bring her knees up higher on each step, but it was quickly tiring. All of her day's physical exercise had left her with little reserve.

Serena pulled to the right on the reins, directing the ponies into a sweeping turn. Melissa's breasts were starting to ache now, from the constant jarring of her trotting gait. The tops of her thighs were burning.

Serena must have seen her struggling because she soon pulled them to a halt. Melissa stood, feeling dizzy. Her arms were bound behind her back; her chest was heaving in gasping breaths; her feet were trapped in the hoof shoes — she was terrified she was going to fall.

Erik stepped up beside her, grasping her upper arms firmly, lending her support. After a minute, the world stopped spinning and her breathing had slowed to a more normal pace. She saw Joseph step away from the sulky with his arms free. Serena then moved behind her, unfastening her from the sulky and freeing her arms as well.

Then Melissa saw that Joseph had removed his head gear, so she immediately reached up to release her own. Serena batted her hands away and unbuckled it herself, letting the bridal fall forward off Melissa's head. Melissa tilted her head back and took a deep breath. She felt her right hoof shoe loosen and realized that Serena must have undone the straps. Soon after, the other one came loose and she could step out of them. Once her bare feet made contact with the grass, she curled her toes in between the cool blades of grass, groaning in relief.

Looking over at Joseph, she said, "I'm sorry if I'm insulting your passion, but being a pony-girl is so not my thing."

He smiled back at her in understanding. "It is a pity though, we were a beautiful team."

Erik released her arm, but kept one hand on her shoulder. "I agree with Joseph. The sight of you two was simply amazing, but, unfortunately, I think we can cross this one off the list."

Pitching his voice to Joseph, Erik continued, "Thank you so much Joseph, and also give my thanks to Master Drexler. Do you want to come in and cool off?"

He shook his head, "No sir, I should be getting back before dark."

"Okay, do you need any help loading anything?"

"No, no. I'm fine Master Erik. Do you want to keep any of the equipment?"

Erik looked at Melissa, considering the question for a moment. "The shoes and the bridal can go back. I like the harness and the tail, though. I'll keep those."

"What about the whip and the crop?"

"I've got plenty of my own... although Melissa, do you want to keep the crop, so you can use it on Serena in the future?"

Melissa grinned evilly, "Oh that's tempting."

Serena said quietly, "Bitch."

Melissa said, "In that case, yes."

Serena complained, "You'd think I'd know to keep my fucking mouth shut."

Erik walked over to pick up the crop and came back to hand it to Melissa. "It's your first crop. I be interested to see what comes of it. Anyway, let's go in and leave Joseph to the task of getting everything put away. Again, thank you so much Joseph."

"Yes Master Erik, Mistress Serena, Mistress Melissa. I really did have a lot of fun. Thank you."

As the three of them came into the house through the sliding glass doors, Melissa felt loaded down, carrying her boots, skirt, fascinator, and crop. She had mostly gotten used to the way the harness strap slid past her clitoris with every step, but her sphincter was sore. Prancing like a pony had pulled the base of her tail up and down.

She whined, "Can I get this damn tail out of my ass now, Master?"

Erik chuckled. "It really does look very cute. I was just admiring the way it swished back and forth on the way in."

Serena chimed in, "It actually does look pretty amazing. I'm thinking of getting one myself."

Erik mused, "You two in matching tails. That could be fun. I'll have to think about the right venue..."

Melissa told Serena brightly, "You can borrow this one, for as long as you want."

Erik asked more seriously, "Is it really that uncomfortable?"

"Sort of. I think it was mostly just the bouncing up and down. Walking around now, I guess it would be better. Except, I'm sore and tender now. I think I'd have to work up to having it in for a longer time."

"Sounds fair. In general though, you okay with something like that up your ass?"

"Ah... I guess so."

Serena quirked her mouth into a wry smile, "Come on, spill the beans. Somebody I know really liked her enema."

Melissa looked down, embarrassed. "Yes Master, I like having something in my ass, especially when you put it there."

"Thank you," he said softly, "that's good to know." In a louder voice, he continued, "I can think of lots of things to stick in there."

Serena snorted.

"Not just my own enormous self, of course. I mean lots of toys... remotely operated vibrators when we go out to the theater or dinner... someone else's dick, while I'm in your front. Is having two men at once ever a fantasy of yours, or something you actually did?"

Melissa was certain that she was turning red. Once more looking down, she answered, "I never did, well almost, but no, the other guy got sort of weirded out and I was really glad. Well, maybe a little disappointed, but it was probably for the best. Anyway, yeah, I guess I thought about it."

"Let me guess, your fantasy involved being tied down and helpless, while your tormentor and his friend had their way with you?"

"How did..."

Serena laughed, "Don't worry, the guy's a fucking mindreader. He knows more than any man should about how a girl's mind works."

Erik shook his head, "Maybe about how a sub fantasizes, but women in general? Alas, that is still a great mystery to all men."

Erik suggested to Melissa, "Why don't you take that stuff upstairs? You can get out of the harness and tail if you want, and then come back down."

"Okay. Thanks." As Melissa walked around, she deliberately rolled her hips to swish her tail back and forth. She was rewarded by appreciative laughter and applause, from both Erik and Serena.

Once she got to her room, she dumped her clothes on the bed and went straight to the bathroom to extricate the butt plug holding her tail in place. As the wide part of the plug passed the sore rim of her sphincter muscle, she gasped from a flash of pain. Once it was out, however, the intensity of the pain quickly faded to a dull soreness.

She unbuckled the harness enough to wriggle out of it. She was reluctant to undo too much of it, for fear of never being able to figure out how to put it back on. Without the tail, she decided, the harness was really fun. She liked how it looked in the mirror. The strap that went between her legs was particularly wonderful.

She washed both plugs of the tail in the sink and set the whole assembly on the counter to dry. Then she took the harness into her bedroom and put it on the bed next to the skirt. Looking at the bed for a moment, she wondered where she would sleep tonight. Her heart sped up a little bit, thinking about sleeping next to Erik in his bed.

She wondered if Serena would join them. Melissa was surprised that she didn't feel jealousy toward the other woman. Then again, she reminded herself, she had just made out with Serena in the shower. The weirdness of casually making out with another woman still astonished her. Even though the pony play was far weirder in some absolute sense, her reaction to the pony play was different because she had been ordered to do it, as part of her summer job. Making out in the shower with another woman, on the other hand, was something she had chosen, separate from whatever Erik had ordered her to do. The casual ease of her choice was disconcerting. She realized that part of what bothered her was that it still didn't feel wrong. It felt like something it would be fun and easy to do again. When she thought about it, making her own decision to lick up Joseph's cum seemed perfectly acceptable too.

"How can I have changed so much, in just a couple of days? Or was I always like this, and Erik just set it free?"

The silent room had no answers for her. Neither did Melissa, so she shrugged and headed for the door to go back downstairs.

As she crossed the threshold, she stopped, realizing that she was completely naked. She couldn't figure out why walking around the house naked felt wrong, then she realized that it felt boring. She wasn't decorative enough.

Turning and looking back at the clothes lying on her bed, she quickly ruled out the boots or harness. The tail, she decided firmly, was staying where it was for right now.

Erik's theme for tonight seemed to be an English garden party, so she wanted to stay within that genre. After all the bouncing up and down, she needed to find something that would give her breasts some support.

Looking down at the collection of shopping bags, she couldn't think of anything that she and Cathy had bought that would fit the bill. All of those clothes were definitely more "Americana" dressy-sexy, not "British Victorian bordello".

She walked through her closet, pulling open drawers, looking at possibilities. There were more choices than she had remembered. She wondered if Erik had added more while she was out today, or if she had just been too overwhelmed the first time she had looked. Both alternatives seemed entirely likely.

She had just been about to select a black and gold leather corset with steampunk gear details when she spotted the pastel tapestry pumps that she had fallen in love with when she first arrived. The black and gold corset really didn't match the pumps, so she looked some more, finally settling on a ivory brocade corset with a brown leather center panel. An intricate design was embroidered on the leather with heavy gold thread. As she walked out of the closet, she also grabbed a four-stranded off-white pearl choker, which went well with the ivory brocade of the corset.

Playing dress-up was fun. Walking over to the bed, where she laid the corset, shoes, and choker next to the cut-away bustle skirt and the fascinator. She wasn't sure the fascinator went perfectly with everything else, but it was much too pretty to leave behind. Besides, she didn't see any other hats in the closet. Some sort of head covering seemed a requirement for the evening's dress code.

It took ten minutes in front of the three-sided mirror in the closet for her to finally get the corset cinched up and tied properly. She now understood why Victorian ladies had maids to dress them. She wondered, if the maid was cute enough, perhaps there were other duties... She grinned, shaking her head to dismiss the idea. She did, however, note that it might be a good fantasy to explore later, for Erik's benefit, of course. She reassured herself that she couldn't possibly be so far gone that she'd actively seek out another woman for casual sex.

While standing in front of the mirror and struggling with her corset, she had also plenty of time to examine the stripes across her rear. They were already fading to a paler pink, which reminded her of her first date with Erik. The stripes he had given her that day had almost completely disappeared by the time she had gotten back to her apartment and finally had the courage to look at them.

She could also see how he regarded these marks as decorative. When Serena had bent over and pulled aside her skirt, there had been something surprisingly erotic about how the stripes criss-crossed her bottom. Melissa wasn't sure what had been arousing about that moment, but even now, she could feel a thrumming deep in her pelvis as she remembered Serena's striped rear — thrust out and waiting for her crop.

She shoved that thought aside as well, checked the fit of the corset one last time, and hurried back into the bedroom to finish getting ready. Then she left for downstairs.

From the dining/kitchen level, she saw Erik and Serena curled up on a couch below, looking out at the fading daylight. Melissa slowed down, unsure whether or not to barge in on their moment. A little jealousy curled up inside her, seeing them in such a loving pose. Before she could decide what to do, they both turned and looked up at her. Melissa realized that her high heels must have been clacked loudly across the dining area floor.

Serena exclaimed, "Holy shit, that's beautiful!"

Erik added, "I agree perfectly with the sentiment, if not quite your expression of it." Turning to Serena, he said, "Young woman, we're going to have to wash your mouth out with soap."

Serena laughed. "As many times as you've cum in it, I'm sure my mouth could use a good washing."

Erik shook his head, defeated. Then he turned his attention back to Melissa, as she came down the stairs. He said, "You really are quite breathtaking.

Melissa walked around to the elongated ottoman in front of the couch and sat on it, facing Erik and Serena. She looked serious, rather than flattered. "You guys say that, and I really, really appreciate it, but I know I'm not beautiful, or gorgeous, or some cover-girl model. I mean, sure, I'm not ugly, and trust me, I'm incredibly grateful for that. In my better moments, I might even be sort of pretty, but in a plain-Jane, Irish lass sort of way. The two of you, though, keep on going on like I'm something exceptional, and I'm not. Really, I know I'm not."

Erik and Serena shared a look, then Erik asked Serena, "You want to tell her?"

"Naw, you're better with words and crap like that."

Erik shook his head, smiling at Serena's straightforward nature. Then, taking a deliberate breath, he looked over at Melissa and began, "Okay. So yeah, at one level, I'm know what you're saying has merit. There's certainly nothing about you that's ugly, and that's a true gift of nature, God, whatever. Beyond that, though, you really are quite pretty. I suspect far prettier than you give yourself credit. But that's not really what Serena and I are... responding to. You see, there's an energy you've tapped into, and it takes you to a whole different level of being beautiful. It changes the rules. It's not just about a clinical definition of attractiveness any more. It's way beyond that. You broadcast an aura of knowing that you're desirable, sexual, and incredibly attractive."

"But that's not how I feel."

"I believe you, but trust me, that's the zinger! This beauty and sensuality that you radiate is all wrapped in a little-girl innocence — and the killer thing is that your innocence is real, not pretend. Tell you what, stop and think a for minute, don't you feel desirable, sexual, attractive?"

"I guess so. But Serena has all that too."

"Sure honey," interjected Serena, "but I've also got way too many 'Been there, Done that' t-shirts."

Melissa looked at her uncertainly, so Serena explained, "I don't have your innocence. Most likely never did. It's the whole 'virgin-whore' thing. Every man has that fantasy — the innocent virgin who's also a total slut. And you glow with it, like a beacon. It puts cover-girl good looks to shame. I mean, somebody like Joseph is drop dead gorgeous, but when the two of you were strapped into that sulky, you were the one I couldn't take my eyes off of. And I'm not lying, I really do like guys better, a lot better. But God, I'd go down on you in an instant."

"Oh. Ah... I think you're pretty... hot too." Melissa looked up, meeting Serena's gaze. An unexpectedly intense feeling of lust flashed between them.




Summer Hire Ch. 13



Erik smiled ruefully, then wagged his finger at the oversized ottoman she was sitting on. He commanded Melissa, "Lie back."

She turned to smile coyly at him and answer, "Yes Master." She lay back, with her arms stretched out over her head on the leather-cushioned surface, leaving her feet still on the floor. "Like this Master?"

Erik stood and stroked his chin, considering. "Scoot down a little, so your butt's right at the edge." She arched up and wriggled to the edge. Erik walked around to one side and Serena knelt down at the other side, near Melissa's legs. Then Serena gave her a leering grin and reached down to slide a drawer out from the ottoman that Melissa hadn't noticed. She pulled a coil of smooth, thick black rope out of the drawer.

Erik knelt down opposite Serena and took another coil of the same type of rope out from a matching compartment on his side.

Melissa looked back and forth between the two of them, "Does all your furniture have secret compartments?"

Erik smiled, shaking his head, "Not all. In fact, these drawers were actually built into the ottoman when I got it. The cleats on the underside, however..." Grinning evilly, he turned to Serena and nodded. Working in unison, they each lifted Melissa's legs from the floor, folding her legs tightly against her torso so her knees were pressed into her breasts. Erik and Serena gathered her up so that she was curled into nearly a fetal position lying on her back, with her buttocks lifted off the leather ottoman. Her heels were pressed down, nearly touching her raised buttocks. Working slowly and precisely, Erik and Serena wrapped a half dozen loops of the black rope around each of her legs, trapping Melissa's legs in their folded position.

As Erik and Serena worked, the tail end of each rope would seem to casually drop across her pouting labia. Then Erik and Serena would, in turn, draw their rope gradually upwards, causing every twisted plait of their rope to slide slowly past her aching clitoris. Melissa shuddered almost constantly, desperately trying to quell her body's need to thrash or jerk away.

Then Erik or Serena would loop another coil around her legs, allowing the tail of the rope to fall once again across her exposed sex. Melissa was gasping for air as they finally finished wrapping her legs.

Next, Erik and Serena each pulled their tail of rope off to opposite sides, forcing Melissa's legs wide apart, leaving her completely exposed.

After a few moments, Melissa felt the tension on the rope become constant. Within that small portion of her mind that still seemed capable of conscious thought, Melissa realized that they must have used the cleats that Erik had joked about installing.

She felt them adding additional ropes to the loops around her legs. Soon, she was bound so tightly that she couldn't move her hips in any direction.

Her arms were next, with loops of the soft rope encasing her wrists. They then pulled her arms firmly past her head and attached the ropes to the underside of the ottoman, she couldn't lift her shoulders from the leather. The only freedom she had left was to lift her head and look a little side to side. She could also rock her body slightly left or right.

As she subtly tested her bonds, she had been puzzled by a persistent, quiet moaning. Then she realized that moans were coming from her. She had been mewing softly, her clenching sex still vibrating from the ropes that had trailed across her as they had tied her. Melissa blushed, embarrassed she had been so transparently demonstrating her desperate need.

Bound so tightly, she was aware of being vaguely worried and uncertain. Her thinking seemed cloudy and far less coherent than she could remember. A burning need and helplessness had pulled her into an almost feral state of consciousness. What frightened her the most was that she loved the feeling.

Without warning, a warm tongue slid into the gaping cleft of her sex, searching, probing, and then slipping upwards, past her aching clitoris. Melissa was instantly seized by overwhelming orgasm and she screamed, straining against her bounds. Within the limited movement possible, she vibrated and shook back and forth. The orgasm rolled on and on. The intensity was simultaneously painful and rapturous.

Slowly, her pulses of orgasmic shuddering weakened and subsided. She was left desperately panting, crying for breath. A darkness crowded her vision, sweeping in from the edges, and she knew she was on the edge of passing out.

Vaguely in the background, she heard voices. A quiet, serious tone picked at the edge of her awareness. She mumbled, "Uhggh...", suddenly aware of how much her throat hurt from screaming.

She heard Paul say quietly to Serena, "I think she's back." He seemed relieved.

Serena laughed quietly in response. "Yeah. I'd say that being bound was a lot bigger hit than pony play."

Melissa inarticulately moaned, "Uhh huhhnn" in agreement. The other two chuckled at her attempt to agree.

Serena asked Erik, "So what do you want to do?"

"I don't know. I think she's done for awhile, but I'm horny as hell."

"Yeah, me too... here, let's try this..."

Through half lidded eyes, Melissa saw Serena position herself over Melissa's bound body, but facing in the other direction. Above Melissa's face was Serena's creamy smooth labia. Melissa wondered tangentially how Serena could possible keep her sex shaved that smooth and soft. Then she felt Serena kissing the inside of her thighs.

Panicked, Melissa begged, "Naghh... nooo... please..."

Serena laughed, nearly a giggle. "No fears, little one. I'm not going to make you come again. At least, not right now. I'll be careful. Promise"

Melissa mumbled, "Oh kayee."

Serena resumed her light kisses and nuzzling. After a few more anxious moments, Melissa was able to relax and enjoy the attention. Looking up at Serena's soft sex, Melissa wondered if she should try to return the favor. Convincing her muscles to lift her head from the ottoman seemed impossible for the moment, and Serena was otherwise out of reach, so Melissa just remained still and tried to focus on recovering. She saw the shadows defining Serena's sex darken as Erik stepped up behind her.

Erik's hand stroked alongside Serena's torso as he asked, "So where do you want it?"

"Silly man, you know where I like it."

"Ha!"

Melissa watched as the swollen head of Erik's penis slid into view, as he glided it past Serena's cleft before pulling the head of his penis up until it pressed against the bare skin above her labia. Then he slowly drew it back, the veined ridges of his shaft teasing apart Serena's labia. Melissa felt Serena pause in her nibbles. Melissa could see Serena's ribs expand from a sharp intake of air.

As the hood of Erik's head drew past Serena's clitoris, Melissa saw Serena flinch in a quick shudder. Then Erik's head was seated firmly at Serena's opening. Melissa realized that she had never seen the mechanics of sex quite this close before. She had an odd realization that the scene would probably be vaguely disgusting, if she didn't like Erik and Serena so much. She wanted them to take pleasure in one another. They had given such intensity to her, it seemed only fair to let them catch up.

Then Erik's head slowly disappeared into Serena, followed by the remainder of his penis in one long, smooth motion. Melissa was fascinated by seeing him so completely penetrate her. Serena groaned quietly and pushed back against him. Serena complained, "Tease."

He laughed, withdrawing nearly all the way before sliding back in again. "You want me wet, don't you?"

"Alright, already!"

Erik laughed again, then withdrew entirely this time. He lifted the head of his penis up until it was seated against the puckered opening of her anus. He pressed gently and firmly forward. Melissa watched in amazement as Serena's anus smoothly spread open to take him in.

"Wow," she thought, "Serena's must have done that a lot more than I'd ever want to."

Once again, Erik's shaft slid fully forward, disappearing into Serena. His smoothly shaved scrotum swung forward as his pelvis bumped into Serena's wide spread buttocks. Melissa tried to stick out her tongue to give his scrotum a quick lick on the way by, but she missed.

Serena groaned in pleasure, leaning forward and resuming her kisses and nibbles on Melissa's upper thighs. Erik gently slid in and out of Serena, slowly building momentum.

Melissa wondered if Serena really did prefer anal sex. She found it hard to believe. Perhaps Serena knew that Erik preferred anal sex and just went along with it. Melissa hoped that wasn't his preference. She had never found having a man in her ass to be hugely fun. Her experience was limited to a handful of times. Once or twice, she supposed, it had been okay. One time, she had even gotten close to an orgasm. But Erik was larger than anyone she had ever let in there. While Erik wasn't huge, Melissa was pretty certain that he was close to eight inches long, and pretty thick as well. Just trying to swallow his penis was intimidating enough. She winced at the idea that he might prefer anal sex.

As the intensity of their coupling had increased, Serena had sunk lower down, arching her back to take Erik in deeper, thrusting back at him. Her swollen sex was now in easy reach. Melissa decided that her duty as a friend was to help out. Certainly, she recalled, Erik had been willing to suck off Michael. Tentatively at first, she reached out with her tongue to explore Serena's dripping labia. As Serena felt Melissa's efforts, she dropped even lower down. Seeing Serena's eager reaction, Melissa circled her tongue around the other woman's hooded clitoris.

Melissa wasn't sure what another woman would want. She knew that once she was aroused, her clitoris was generally far too sensitive for direct stimulation. From the way that Serena quickly ground her clitoris into Melissa's mouth, however, it didn't seem that Serena had a problem with too much sensitivity. Melissa dutifully lapped her tongue side to side, across Serena's straining clitoris.

Erik was now pounding in and out of Serena's ass, his engorged penis millimeters from Melissa's nose, while his scrotum slapped against her forehead with every thrust. Between being tightly bound and having her face covered in thrusting bodies, Melissa had to fight off feelings of claustrophobia. "At least," she thought, "there's no poop stink." As close as she was to the intense action, she very grateful that Serena kept herself thoroughly clean, inside and out.

Then Serena brushed her tongue across Melissa's sex, causing Melissa's distraction with all the mechanics of sex to instantly evaporate. Melissa discovered she was straining to lift her pelvis up to meet Serena's mouth. In response, Serena dropped her head, enfolding Melissa's engorged labia and clitoris into her mouth, then swishing her tongue back and forth across all of Melissa's captured parts.

Melissa gasped, forgetting where her own tongue was for a moment, wanting only for Serena to somehow take more of her in, which she did. Then Serena released her hold. After an agonizing moment with no contact, Serena delicately reengaged, slowly sliding her tongue back and forth alongside Melissa's clitoris, teasing it without direct contact. 

Melissa gasped for air, which made her realize that her mouth was covered by Serena and she had completely forgotten about her own part in all this. Melissa restarted her efforts, causing Serena to redouble hers. Melissa wasn't sure if she could keep focus on what she was doing to Serena while simultaneously coping with a quickly oncoming orgasm, but she was determined to try.

Erik, in the meantime, seemed to have sensed the shift in both women's arousal, because his pace and energy level began to peak. Melissa wasn't sure which one of them slipped over the edge first, but whoever did, ignited a rapid cascade of mutual orgasms .

Utterly exhausted and satisfied, Melissa laid her head back. Her most recent orgasm may not have been nearly as cataclysmic as her earlier one, but it had been imminently enjoyable. The shared experience with all three of them had been amazing.

Erik slid out of Serena, the tip of his penis weeping semen as he rested momentarily against the crease of her buttocks. Then he sank backwards to sprawl across the floor with a satisfied groan.

Melissa relaxed as best she could in her bonds, breathing contentedly with the weight of Serena resting above her. She smiled, thinking that at least Serena weighed less than most men. While Melissa still didn't feel entirely comfortable with all the same-sex activity, it was clear that it wasn't completely horrible either.

She smiled to herself, but the simple contraction of her muscles made it clear that her tongue was stiff and sore. Gently sticking her tongue out of her mouth, she wagged it back and forth, trying to loosen up her cramped muscles. At that moment, however, a drop of Erik's semen fell from Serena's buttock, splashing directly onto Melissa's tongue.

She heard Erik chuckle from the floor. He must have seen what happened. Snorting derisively, Melissa reached up with her tongue and mischievously licked away another drop of his cum. What Melissa hadn't expected was Serena's reaction. As Serena felt Melissa's warm tongue lapping along the edge of her sphincter, she arched backwards in a gasp of surprise. After a deep sigh of delight, Serena lay back down again.

Seeing what she had started, Melissa lifted her head back up, and with a wry grin, very deliberately licked Serena clean of all the cum that had leaked out. Serena's satisfied groans and shudders made perfectly clear how much she enjoyed the attention. Melissa hoped that Erik was watching, which was confirmed when she heard him muttering from the floor, "You are going to be the absolute death of me. Truly, I tell you, I am a condemned man."

Finished, Melissa let her head fall back to the ottoman, a contented smile stealing across her face. She decided that Serena was right. It was worth dealing with the taste if she could get that sort of reaction from Serena and Erik.



Summer Hire Ch. 14



Bedtime

After untying Melissa, Erik picked her up and carried her into his bedroom. She complained that she could walk, although she wasn't really sure it was true. Serena hurried ahead of them and pulled down the sheets. Erik laid Melissa in the middle of the bed. Serena got in one side and Erik the other. They both snuggled up against her.

As the hugged around her and pulled up the bedcovers, tears began to well up and run across Melissa's face, dropping onto the sheets. "I'm sorry," she stammered. "I'm really not sad. I don't know why I'm crying."

"It's okay," Erik whispered. "It has been a very long day."

"That's why we brought you in here," Serena added. "You're supposed to feel this way after such a strong experience. And you know, your world has kind of been turned upside down today. You got to let it catch up with you, then you can sort it all out and make sense of it."

"Yeah," Melissa agreed, suddenly very sleepy. She closed her eyes and within moments fell asleep, as Serena stroked her hair and Erik held her close.

* * *

In the middle of the night, Melissa groggily came to wakefulness, propelled by an urgent need to go to the bathroom. Serena was gone. Erik had rolled over, but he was still snuggled against her. Carefully avoiding waking him, she eased herself out of bed. Enough moonlight spilled in through the windows that she could see her way to the bathroom.

As she walked across the floor, a multitude of sore joints and stiff muscles made their presence felt. She smirked, certain she resembled a creaking, hobbling crone — certainly not the beautiful sex goddess that Erik and Serena had tried to con her into believing.

She muttered quietly, "Who knew a rich guy's sex toy worked this hard? There'd better fucking be workman's comp."

Finding the toilet, she lifted the lid and slumped down onto the seat. "Well that answers the question of whether he's the kind of guy who leaves the seat up or not. He keeps the damn lid closed. Who the hell does does that?"

Once finished, she sat for a minute, worried that flushing the toilet would wake him. Finally, she decided that anyone who always put the toilet lid down was probably enough of a neatnik that it would really bother him to discover an unflushed toilet in the morning. She carefully put the lid down and pulled the handle. The toilet was nearly silent as it flushed away. She gave out a quiet "humph", amused by the idea that rich people could buy noiseless toilets. "Sure," she whispered to herself, "kind of like having your own bat cave for your zoomy cars... and English housekeepers... and your very own sex slave."

Stepping back out into the moonlit bedroom, her negative train of thought was completely derailed by the curve of Erik's shoulders and his sleep-tousled dark hair. Even asleep, he looked gorgeous. "Oh shit," she quietly whispered to herself, unsure about whether to get back in bed with him or go up to her room. Giving into her yearning, she slipped into his bed as softly as she could.

As she hesitantly pressed her back up against his, he mumbled something unintelligible, then turned over to spoon around her, throwing his arm across her and drawing her in tighter. His breathing remained deep and regular.

Melissa was amused that he hadn't woken up when he wrapped around her. He had snuggled her the same way a child would hug a favorite teddy bear. His embrace was warm and comfortable. She closed her eyes, musing, "Teddy bear... sex toy... girlfriend... whatever... it's a way different summer than anything I'd planned."



Summer Hire Ch. 15



Chapter 15

Day Off

Melissa followed the mâitre d´ into the restaurant and looked around. She was wearing a cream linen sundress with thin blue stripes, which Cathy had helped her pick out the day before. Even though Erik had made it clear that she was "off duty" from seven o'clock Wednesday morning till seven o'clock Thursday morning, she had decided to wear the high-heeled blue sandals that Cathy had found to go with the dress, rather than the plain flat sandals she had brought from her apartment. The new blue sandals really made the outfit.

She had also decided to take the Aston Martin, rather than her old beater. Erik had encouraged her to use the new sports car all the time, even on her day off. Although the new car had intimidated her at first, after driving it some more on Tuesday, she had fallen in love with its luxury and James Bond appeal. She did feel guilty and a bit disloyal, however, when she pulled away from the garage and caught a glimpse of her faded Nissan in the rearview mirror.

It wasn't until she was halfway to the restaurant that she realized she hadn't put on any underwear. Embarrassed, she considered going back. She vacillated, trying to remember if Erik had said anything about his "no underwear" rule extending to her time off. Finally, she just shrugged and kept driving, not wanting to be late.

Laughing at herself, she had to admit that when she got dressed, she simply hadn't given any thought to putting on underwear. Even after a few short days at Erik's house, it seemed natural to not be wearing anything under her clothing. After a moment's consideration, she smirked, realizing that underwear would just look silly under most of the clothing she wore at his place.

Glancing down at her dress, she felt very grateful for Cathy's help in buying clothes for going out in public with Erik. Cathy had mostly selected tops and dresses that were at least a little bit supportive of her bust, as well as fabrics that weren't too sheer, or else they had found a light blazer or something to layer over it. Cathy firmly maintained that the key was to be "sophisticated sexy", not slutty. Melissa wholeheartedly agreed. She thought that Cathy had been amazingly successful in hitting the right balance. Even the skimpy outfits that Melissa wore around the house had a sophisticated flair that made her feel beautiful, instead of trashy.

Just before she had left the house, Melissa had topped off her outfit with an iridescent blue fascinator that Cathy had spotted in a hat shop. After learning Melissa's weakness for fascinators and beautiful high heels, Cathy had shamelessly indulged her in both. Walking into the restaurant, Melissa worried that she was overdressed, but she was reassured when the mâitre d´ had looked up, pausing the smallest moment while his eyes quickly flicked up and down, taking in her appearance, then giving her a warm smile that clearly approved of her outfit.

She gave him her name. He immediately responded, "Welcome to Chardon's. Your party is waiting. Please, this way."

Following him into the dining room, she looked around and was relieved that she wasn't overdressed. Erik had suggested the restaurant and Serena had agreed that it was a good choice.

The mâitre d´ led her to a table where Malcolm was lounging in his chair, with his white polo shirt offsetting his dark skin. As he pulled out her chair, the mâitre d´ smirked ever so slightly at Malcolm, who responded with an equally subtle puckering of his lips and eyebrow raise. Melissa saw the mâitre d´ roll his eyes as he seated her.

She turned in her chair to watch the him walking away, amused by the slight strut in his gait. Turning back to Malcolm, she got ready to tease him about whatever flirting he must have done with the mâtre d´. Malcolm, however, burst out first, "Girl, I don't care how you got it, but you go back right now and let that poor super model have her body back. That poor girl has got to look fabulous to make a living. You, on the other hand, I know for a fact, have an actual brain. So girl, you've got no call to look that hot. It's just downright dangerous. Every hetero male in this place spiked his blood pressure when you walked by. Hell, I think you look amazing, and I'm so homo, it's just not funny." He paused for a moment, looking at her closely, "What'd they do to you in there?"

In response, Melissa dropped her head into her hands, feeling frustrated. "Oh shit, not you too. Erik and Serena keep on telling me that I'm... I don't know... something I'm not. I'm not some goddamn super model! Get it? I'm just me. Like always. Plain me."

She looked up at Malcolm, waiting for his response. He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "Okay, you're butt ugly, just like always. Feel better?"

She snorted derisively, "Thanks."

"Hey, anytime. What are friends for? I mean, not everybody can be a sex god, like me." Then he laughed, shaking his head ruefully, "But girl, for real, you have nailed the sex goddess thing. And hey, it looks good on you, so what the hell? Run with it."

Melissa frowned. "Can we just drop it?"

Malcolm replied in a serious tone, dropping his normal jocularity, "Yeah. Sure. I didn't mean to razz you. I'm sorry. But wow, I mean you've got to just be finding a whole new side of you. This is a statistically significant departure from sweatpants and t-shirt. And hey, I've seen you in clubbing mode too. This is a whole different thing. It's just kind of mind-blowing to see you so different in only three days."

"Hey, it's still me."

"Got that. No argument. You are definitely still Melissa. But you're learning new stuff about what being Melissa is, or could be, at least. That much is obvious. So give it up. Tell Uncle Malcolm every last little decadent detail."

"Ha, you're just a pervert."

"Sure, and your point is..."

"I don't know. Hell, it's really good to see you. And it's seriously weird too. Like two parts of my life crashing together."

"So what is this other part of your life that you've been hiding away all this time?"

"That's the thing. It's not like Erik has turned me into something I wasn't. It's more like he's helping me set free something I've always been, but I was way too scared to ever let out."

Malcolm only nodded, waiting for her to continue.

"Ever since I was a little girl, I liked the idea of being tied up. And yeah, when I was a teenager, it turned into rape fantasies... and all that stuff. Being sold into white slavery. Whipped at a pillory. All that shit, it... it just scared the hell out of me... but I loved it. So, you know, I felt guilty as hell, but that's what mostly made me cum when I... ah... you know, played with myself."

She slowly shook her head in disbelief. "Now I find out that I'm not strange. Or at least, there's loads of other people like me. And it's not like they're three-headed monsters or sick perverts. They're good people. Nice people. And they love tying me up and whipping me." She paused, uncertain. "It's just too fucking weird."

Malcolm reached across the table, taking her hands in his own. "When I was eight or nine, I realized I like boys in a way that was different than my friends. I got scared. Being called 'gay' was a really mean insult in elementary school. By the time I was in middle school, there wasn't any doubt. I knew I was a homo. Faggot. Queer. And I was sure I was the only one in my school. Ha! Fat fucking chance. At least, I didn't ever think seriously about killing myself. It didn't get that bad, but it sure as hell wasn't a good time."

He smiled, "Then I explored the Internet. Wow. Gay porn sites. Oh my God! Eighth grade boys should never be allowed online. Especially with a laptop. In their room. Ever."

He gently squeezed her hands and asked, "But what about you? Didn't you ever Google 'BDSM'? Read Fifty Shades of Grey? Watch the movie?"

"I was a good Catholic girl, remember? And I hated little mousy submissive girls. How could I be a submissive? God, how the fuck am I a submissive?"

"Ah, Earth to Melissa. You ain't 'mousy'. Not since I've known you. And I'm pretty sure that being a 'submissive' don't mean shit about how you live your life outside of the bedroom. Or it doesn't have to, anyway." He leaned back a little, looking at her dubiously, "But babycakes, you mean you ain't never looked up all this BDSM stuff or read any of those books?"

She shook her head, "Not until last weekend."

"Holy shit. When I got my first boyfriend, we were butt fucking and sucking each other off every moment of every day. Man, when people finally uncork their secret passion, its like totally showtime! Overdrive. You must be going crazy sexy right now." He cocked his head, "You burning that poor man out? I mean, us poor guys can only make so much cum in a day. After that, it's blue ball city."

Melissa's face tinged pink in embarrassment. Malcolm grinned, "Oh do tell. Come on sweet cheeks, come clean. What're hiding?"

"Ah, he's had help."

"Yesss?"

"Oh Malcolm, I'm so confused." She turned away, suddenly very embarrassed and afraid.

He squeezed her hands again. "Hey, It's okay. You can tell me. Remember, I'm a certified sexual deviant. I'm safe."

She smiled briefly, then took a deep breath. "It's not just him. There's this girl... woman... well, two actually... I guess. Oh and there was another guy, sort of, but I think he's mostly gay..." She quietly wound down into an embarrassed silence.

"My, what a busy little girl you've been."

"But it's not like I'm a lesbian or anything. I mean, not that being gay is something bad or... I'm sorry. I'm just so fucking confused."

He looked at her seriously again. Slowly and deliberately, he said, "Hey, you're still you. Inside. You know, still you. Sure, you're exploring some wild new stuff. But it's still you who's sitting here. My best friend."

She took a deep breath and let it out. "Thanks. It's been kinda weird. I guess I needed to hear that."

He let go of her hands, sat back, and smiled widely. "That's what Uncle Malcolm's for. Buck you up. Send you back in there to conquer some more helpless women."

"Sorry, was that 'buck you up' or 'fuck you up'?"

He laughed, "Either which way."

She nodded her agreement, "I've certainly had more sex in the last few days than I think I had the whole school year. Some of it really weird. Great, but truly mind warping stuff."

"Do tell..."

"Ha! Pervert."

"You bet. Besides, who's the perv? The one who's listening or the one who's doing?"

She blushed again, looking down at the table.

He waited, but when she didn't say anything more, he said, "So like I was saying, when I had had my first boyfriend, God, we were constant fuck monkeys. Total party city. I mean the vaccine for AIDS had just come out the year before and the whole gay scene had gone completely crazy."

He smiled at the memories, then shook his head sadly, "It wasn't till a year or so ago that I realized how emotionally overwhelming it had all been. I mean, I don't care how many people say that being gay is okay or how many countries have gay marriage, it's still not the norm. Certainly not for a 14 year-old middle school kid. And I was breaking all the rules. Sure, I was loving it and having a boyfriend felt awesome, but it also felt really wrong. I was scared. So I went outrageously out. I pushed it in front of my mom, and she kind of freaked. Then she tried hard to be supportive.

"I did some pretty crazy shit. My boyfriend and I went to some gay pride things. A guy there pulled us into the whole boy-toy scene with a bunch of older men." Malcolm paused, then continued in a quiet, angrier tone, "All the attention seemed amazing at the time, but there's a really good reason why pedophilia is illegal. It was... damaging. We were kids, not adults."

His voice grew very quiet and sad, "My boyfriend got turned onto drugs. He just spiraled out of control. I tried to get help, but...

"I don't know, Melissa. I'm not sure what I'm trying to say. Traveling the 'road less taken' can be a really strange trip. Some stuff is really great, but some shit can be really fucked up. With all the newness, it's like, you can get so far out of bounds, and maybe so far out of control, that it's hard to dial in on what you really want or like. I mean, I have a sense that this Erik guy is trying to be careful, but I don't know. It's, like, almost inevitable that you'll go across at least a few lines that you'll regret afterwards. When I was a kid and everything turned upside down, it was hard to even know where the lines were, until I was way, way over on the other side.

"But I was a kid. You're an adult.

"Besides, in the end, for me, it all worked out. My boyfriend Jon didn't do so good, but maybe that's what was going to happen anyway. Some people are like that with drugs and all."

Malcolm paused again, then grinned lopsidedly, "But hey, I figured out who I am and what my boundaries are. Well, mostly, unless he's really, really cute."

He chuckled and reached out to take her hands again. "I know you. I know you'll be okay. If you go too far, you'll figure it out and find your way back. If something bad is holding you there, then I'll kick ass and come get you."

Melissa smiled at him, grateful. She thought a moment and asked, "Losing Jon left a scar, didn't it?"

He answered softly, "Yeah. It healed. Not right away. But I'm an adult now. I can handle the hard stuff. You can too."

"Thanks. You're right, Malcolm. I am an adult. But really, thank you... I'm hugely glad you're my friend. Talking to you helps so much. Cause it's like what you said, 'everything feels turned upside down'."

She took a deep breath and and let it out slowly. "Even without the last few days, I think Erik's right; I am a submissive. The sad truth is... I love being tied up and played with. Maybe not all the time, but I don't think that a vanilla lifestyle would cut it anymore. Being spanked and whipped? It's pretty freaky — liking it, I mean. But I do. I think I do. At least, I sure as hell respond to it. But I don't think that I'd ever want to be with someone who was heavy into it. That'd get too weird. It'd feel like abuse. I want way more in a relationship."

She looked off in the distance, unfocused, considering. "Ball gags, they're not really my thing. Make my jaw ache. But he loves the look, and that sort of makes it worthwhile... least as long as I don't have to go too long. I don't know, it's kind of like wearing high heels. They're not really comfortable, but I like the way they make me look.

"The pony stuff didn't really work for either of us, so that's good. Making out with another girl? I really don't know how I feel about that yet. I like what it does for the scene and how he reacts. It's sort of like teasing him, which is kind of cool, cause he isn't the kind of guy you'd normally tease. And I can get off on making out with a girl, I mean, you know, ah, like, have an orgasm and all. But at some level, it still feels kind of, eww, yuck, gross! I'm not sure that I want to get to a point where I look at another woman and get all hot and bothered. That's still pretty scary. No... 'scary' isn't the right word. I don't know. 'Weird'? At least, I'm just not sure it feels 'right', for me.

"And swallowing down his cum? I'm getting better at not gagging on the taste. But I can't imagine ever actually liking it. You were right though, it sure as hell does do something for him. That's fun. And even though Serena handles it like a porn star, she told me that she thinks the taste is foul too. Of course, she gets paid for liking it. Though, I'm getting paid for it too, I guess."

She looked down at the table, pensive. Then she met his eyes again and asked, "Freaked out?"

He smiled, shaking his head, "Not even the tiniest little bit. I'm... you know... what I really feel is happy and excited for you. You're on this awesome exploration thing, and it seems like it could be a really important part of you. It's just really cool to see you tromping through this new territory. In your six inch stilettos."

She laughed, looking down at her new shoes admiringly. "Aren't they amazing?" She laughed. "Of course, I don't have anything in my closet with less than a five inch heel. Oh my God, my ankles are so fucking sore at night... but I do love how I look in heels. And it really turns Erik on. It's that teasing thing. It gives me a power over him that I really enjoy. Serena really gets off by teasing him, for the same reason."

"So who's this Serena?"

"I don't really know."

"Say what?"

"I mean, she's kind of a puzzle. I'm pretty sure she's really smart, but she told me she hated school. I don't think she ever went to college. I'm not even sure she finished high school. But she's got midwestern beauty, you know, great cheekbones, blond hair, clear skin. And an amazing body, though she's not stacked, or anything. She's definitely from somewhere in the midwest. I get the sense, though, it was from the wrong part of town."

"Trailer park trash?"

"No, not that either. At least, I don't think so. But she sure as hell was the 'bad' girl in high school. And really big into theater, acting and all. She came out East to be an actress."

"Not Hollywood?"

"Nope. Not sure why. Well maybe I know. It's like she can't stand fake people. I guess that's strange for an actress and all, but she's got an amazing bullshit detector. She's just dead-on. So, I get the sense that Hollywood wasn't her thing.

"Anyway, she came out here. Worked at a Starbucks and just fell into the whole kink scene, somehow or other. Pretty quickly, she figured out she could make a shit load of money. Turns out that lots of rich guys will pay big bucks for a domme."

"So she's a dominant?"

"Ha! She's whatever she wants to be. She swims in kink, like it's a Roman tepidarium. And I think she really likes most of it, but I'm also pretty sure she's banking almost all the money she makes. She said something about not being able to charge her rates forever. She definitely plans ahead. A lot more than I do, anyway."

Malcolm grinned, "Yeah, well we're still irresponsible students. But spill the beans girl, what's with you and your midwest chickie?"

"I'm not totally sure. Erik likes her, and they've definitely got a history together, but it's not like it's any sort of serious boyfriend-girlfriend thing. It's more like friends with gobs of benefits... or maybe even a trusted employee thing.

"Anyway, Erik hired her to give me massages after my morning workouts, but it's way more than that. She's sort of like a guide or mentor or something."

"I'm sorry, Miss 'Way Too Entitled'. Did you just say that you have a personal masseuse, after your dainty little morning workout?"

"Yeah, if you ever had to deal with Mistress Amy's... motivational techniques, you'd need more than just a masseuse to get it back together. That woman's a serious sadist."

"Yeah? Sorry, but you're still not selling me on the whole 'poor little Melissa' deal. But as interested as 'Mistress Amy' sounds, let's not get distracted from what Serena's doing for you. Or to you?"

"Well, she's not seriously into girl-girl stuff either, but it seems like everyone in this kink thing just does whatever to whoever. Or at least that's the case for the crew that Erik hangs out with."

"So, do you all get hot and heavy when Erik's not around to be an audience?"

"Ah... yeah, kind of. It's like, you know, just something to do."

"Just passing the time, huh?"

"Well, if you're going to be all bitchy about it..."

"Only pointing out: you might be the teensiest bit more willing and interested than you've been saying. That's all."

"Yeah. Well, that's what scares me. I mean, what if I've really liked women better all along, and that's been my problem with men? I'm just not sure of who I am anymore."




Summer Hire Ch. 15



"Ha! Much as I enjoy watching you squirm, I'm pretty sure I'm hearing panic now, not reality. I mean, my gaydar is pretty damn good, well admittedly more for guys than women, but still, I can usually sniff out a bent sister from a long way off. And you just don't have that scent. Not even a little."

He laughed again, and said, "I think you were a whole lot closer to the truth when you said it was more about the kink than gender. My gut's telling me that you're looking for someone who fits your kink, and their gender is secondary.

"Hell girl, the whole year I've known you, you've been desperately trying to find someone who knows how to push all your buttons just the right way. Up till now, that's been a terrible mess. It's been... sad, watching you fuck one stupid-ass piece of crap after another. Bullies. Self-centered assholes. Lordy, lordy, what a crock of shit.

"This group that hangs around Erik, on the other hand, it definitely sounds like they know how to scratch your itch. Look at you now. If you were a cat, you'd be purring away. I've never seen you this happy... satisfied. So if it takes going down on a woman, or swallowing some cum, or being tied up, or whatever the hell, go for it girl! I trust you. You'll figure out what works, where your boundaries are. And if you get in too deep, don't worry, I'll be here to get you out."