by Paris Rose
“No, thank you, Giavanna.”
I quickly got caught up on emails and headed out the door. My commute took about the same amount of time every day since I took the train, but today, since I was dying to get back to Trevor’s place, it felt like it was taking forever to get there. The train that I was supposed to catch was full, so I had to wait for the next one. And when I was finally able to get on a train, there were multiple delays because there was construction on the tracks.
It was cold out, and I was aching to feel Trevor’s warmth. I was really crawling out of my skin with anticipation for our lesson. My stomach was doing somersaults. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. When I finally made it back to Trevor’s penthouse, it was dark and quiet. It was pretty early in the evening, and with the time difference, it was even earlier in L.A., so I figured Trevor was probably still working. He was the one person I knew who worked more than I did. Even with his twelve-to-fourteen-hour days, I had no idea how he had enough time to run multiple businesses, perform in a band, and produce his own records. No wonder he was a billionaire—he earned it. And, from what he’d told me, he’d been going at this pace practically since he was born. He had to be a genius, there was no doubt in my mind.
I went to the fridge to see what was for dinner, and I found a note with Trevor’s handwriting.
On an important conference call. I will be with you as soon as possible. Dinner is in the oven. It should still be warm. Please change into the outfit I left for you on the bed. I’ll come get you when I’m done with my call. Have some champagne and relax while you wait. Cristal and strawberries in the fridge.
Yours,
Trevor
Wow! He’s really taking our roleplay tonight seriously, Cristal and a costume? I must be in for a treat.
I smiled as I reminisced on the very first time I had Cristal. We were in Trevor’s Maybach, on our way to a party at a really exclusive night club in West Hollywood. He was so delighted that I had a taste for expensive champagne. He said a lot of people had trouble getting accustomed to luxury, but he was happy that I embraced it. He also said my enthusiasm for his lavish lifestyle really made him appreciate it more. He revealed that he often took things for granted when he didn’t have anyone to share them with.
I poured a glass of champagne and wondered just how I got so lucky. I realized that I’d actually been through a lot, when I really thought about it. It was about time things finally started going well for me. I took a long, slow sip of my drink, and nibbled on my strawberry. The combination of the bubbles from the champagne and the sweetness of the strawberry made me feel warm and giddy, despite the fact that I had just braved the excruciating Midwest weather on the way home. I regretted that the sun was always gone by the time I got off of work. It made me slightly melancholy, and I missed watching the sunset like I did in the summer.
Yesterday I was lucky — I got off early to meet Trevor, and I got to watch the sun go down over the lake, through Trevor’s floor-to-ceiling windows, on the forty-fifth floor. I gazed over at the window to see if I could catch a glimpse of the lake today, but it was so dark that all I could see was my reflection.
I ate dinner quickly and poured a second glass of champagne and took it to Trevor’s room with me. A pleated black skirt and a white cotton V-neck shirt, along with white socks and a pair of black shoes, were waiting for me on Trevor’s bed. I changed out of my knitted red tunic and black skinny jeans, and into the outfit Trevor had left for me. I looked at myself in the mirror. The white V-neck hugged my curves and showed quite a bit of cleavage. The dark skirt fell just above my knee. I looked like a schoolgirl, dressed neatly in uniform.
I pulled my long thick hair in a high ponytail before glancing in the mirror again. The ponytail made me look too young, so I took it out and brushed my hair so that it laid down. For the first time in a long time I was really happy with my appearance. My hair that I inherited from my Native American grandmother was long, thick, and shiny. My light caramel skin looked clear and creamy. And my hazel eyes sparkled with a touch of vibrant green. Eating only the finest foods and being pampered by Trevor’s staff really made me glow. I smiled at my reflection. I looked happy and radiant. I took a few sips of champagne. It made me feel warm and sexy. Trevor stepped into the bedroom just as I started to wonder how long he’d be.
“Well, don’t you look stunning? Everything fits perfectly.” Trevor crossed his ankles as he leaned against the doorframe and looked me up and down. “Turn around for me, Giavanna. Let me see all of you.” I twirled around in a circle and curtsied when I was facing Trevor again. “Beautiful…just beautiful!” He beamed. “I hate to mess with perfection, but could you do one thing for me?”
“Yes, what is it, Trevor?”
“Could you pull your hair into pigtails for me?”
I scrunched up my face. “I don’t know. It’ll make me look childish.”
“It’s not about looking childish, it’s about feeling innocent. You’re always so sharp and strong and assertive. For tonight, I need you to relax and be soft and receptive. You’re about to learn about a whole new lifestyle, and I’m going to need you to really tap into your innocence and femininity if we’re going to make the most of the night. Even though you always deny it, you’re naturally innocent. I think wearing your hair in pigtails will help you get in touch with that part of yourself.”
I pensively nibbled on my bottom lip as I contemplated what Trevor had said. I figured there was no harm in wearing pigtails, especially if it would turn him on. I loved to titillate Trevor. “All right, if you say so.” I smiled and rolled my eyes.
“For tonight, I’m not Trevor. I’m your teacher, Mr. Dunaway. Is that clear, Giavanna?”
“Yes, Mr. Dunaway,” I replied with mock sweetness. I decided to really have fun with this roleplay.
“All right, good. When you’re finished with your hair, come into my office and we’ll get started.”
“Will do.” I turned toward the mirror as Trevor exited the room. I couldn’t believe I was letting some man tell me what to do with my hair, but I acquiesced. I pulled my long layers into two low pony tails at the base of my neck, and I let my shorter layers frame my face. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a bad look for me. Even though I was in my mid-twenties, I looked youthful and innocent. But the way my hair fell right around the curviest part of my bustline added a touch of sex appeal. As much as the female alpha in me didn’t want to admit it, Trevor really knew how to make me look good.
I took one last look in the mirror, applied some lip gloss, and headed down the hall. Trevor’s office was about the size of my entire one-bedroom apartment. His massive, oak desk faced two cream-colored chairs that looked like they were fit for a king’s living room. The wall behind Trevor’s desk held built-in bookshelves that were lined with books about the music industry. The other walls were floor-to-ceiling windows. It was so dark outside, it looked like we were floating through a black hole. In the corner, there was a small table and an office chair that faced a dry erase board.
“Sit at this table, Giavanna. Your lesson will take place here.”
“May I have a coaster for my champagne?”
“Drinking in class?” He raised his eyebrows. “You know that’s grounds for discipline, young lady.” His tone was more stern than I expected. My heart skipped a beat as I realized I had no idea what was in store for me tonight. “You need to finish your drink before we get started.” I froze and my face flushed red, because I wasn’t sure if he was joking or if he was serious. I felt vulnerable as I stood in the center of the office, dressed in a school uniform and holding my champagne flute. “Go on, bottoms up,” he encouraged. I put the champagne glass to my lips and emptied it in one fluid sip. I stifled a burp as I handed my empty glass to him. I felt warm and giddy. I had the overwhelming urge to giggle, but I did my best to hold it in. “Sit.” Trevor pointed at my seat.
I erupted into a fit of laughter. I tried, but I couldn’t contain myself. “Sit? What
is this, puppy training school?” I giggled.
“That’s it young lady!” He grabbed a ruler off his desk and walked over and rapped the table with it. I was so startled that I visibly jumped. “I already see that I’m going to have to discipline you. You will absolutely be punished tonight, but I’m going to withhold all discipline until we’re done with our lesson for today.” There was a devious glow in his hypnotic brown eyes. “You need to know how discipline works before I administer it. I need you to take this seriously. If you don’t, your punishment will be more severe. Understand?” He spoke firmly. The seriousness in his tone made me sober up and sit at attention.
“Yes, Mr. Dunaway. Understood.” I was shocked by how demurely I replied.
“Good. That’s what I like to hear. Now, let us begin. First, I need to assess your knowledge. You said you don’t know much about BDSM. Just how much do you know? What do you think BDSM is, Giavanna?”
“Ummm…when I think of BDSM, I think of pain. I picture a man wearing a leather mask, and a woman being chained to the bed and beaten. I also think of nipple clamps.” I cringed at the thought.
Trevor’s eyes lit up. “Your idea of what BDSM entails is very limited, but I’m really impressed with the vivid pictures you paint. You’re a very sensual young lady.” His compliment made me blush. “I’m going to explain to you what BDSM is, and what it is not, so you can make an informed decision about whether you want to be a part of it. This lifestyle has brought me more balance than any type of workout, meditation, or therapy ever has. And it’s even more cathartic than making music. Actually, one fuels the other. The BDSM lifestyle definitely influences my art. And the darkness that I must draw upon when I’m creating my music fuels my hunger for BDSM.”
I raised my hand to ask Trevor a question.
“Yes, Giavanna?”
“How did you get into BDSM? That’s not something that most people just stumble upon in their youth. How did you find this underground community?”
“Well, that’s a rather long story, Giavanna, and one I’d rather not get into tonight. Let’s just say one unfortunate circumstance led to another, and I discovered the BDSM community exactly when I needed it most. Practicing BDSM was the healthiest way I knew how to process some of the things I’d gone through in the past. If it wasn’t for this lifestyle, I don’t know where I’d be today. I know I wouldn’t be in a luxurious Lincoln Park penthouse, standing across from one of the most beautiful women on the planet. The BDSM community helped me to become a productive, contributing member of society. And that’s all I’m going to say about that for now.”
“Interesting.”
“That it is. Now, moving on…” He drew the letters B-D-S-M on the dry erase board. “BDSM stands for bondage and discipline,” he circled the B and the D, “sadism and masochism,” he circled the S and the M, “and the D and the S together stand for dominance and submission.” Trevor used a red marker to circle the D and the S. “In my opinion, that’s the most beneficial part for both parties, dominance and submission. It’s the core of the type of relationship I’m looking for. Bondage and discipline are just a way to exercise dominance. Both bondage and discipline are an art form. I’m quite skilled in the technical aspects of bondage, but my greatest strength is in administering discipline. I approach every discipline session the same way that I approach my music. Each sensation that I inflict upon my sub during playtime is like a different note. When I masterfully arrange a series of sensations, it’s like creating a brilliant composition. Hmmm, I must say…” He looked into space as he spoke thoughtfully. “I think I enjoy disciplining my subs just as much as I enjoy making music.”
I was intrigued and perplexed at the same time. I already knew that there was no way that I would fit into the lifestyle that he was describing, but for some reason, I was enchanted by Trevor’s passion, and his confidence in his abilities. “Wow, you too paint beautiful pictures, Trevor. I suppose we have that in common.”
“That we do. We could create magnificent art together.”
“Perhaps we could. But I want to know more about the S&M aspect—that’s the part that concerns me.”
“Well, I understand your curiosity, but there is no need for concern. Sadism is deriving pleasure from inflicting pain and other sensations, and masochism is deriving pleasure from receiving different sensations. The term pain is used loosely in this context, as in a BDSM relationship it’s mostly about the exchange of pleasure. The point of the pain is to make you, the masochist, feel good.”
“I don’t think I fall into the category of a masochist.”
“Do you like to be on the receiving end of physical stimulation?”
I thought about Trevor’s question for a while before answering. “Yes, I do, very much so.”
“Well then, you have an inner masochist that just needs cultivating. Trust me on this one. You don’t have to understand that aspect now, but you’ll remember this conversation later. Your question reminds me. I want to talk about what BDSM is not. What makes BDSM different from what you’re probably thinking is that consent is extremely important in a good BDSM relationship. Doms aren’t supposed to tie up their subs and torture them. Each party in a BDSM relationship agrees to their limits in advance. Everything is negotiated. There is a contract and everything. If you agree to be my sub, I will push your limits to help you grow, but everything will be for your greater good. I would never do anything to you that you didn’t want to me do. I couldn’t, that would be an abuse of my power as a Dom. My favorite part of being a Dom, aside from the control aspect, is the responsibility that comes with nurturing and caring for my sub.”
“Forgive me for sounding stupid, but I don’t understand. I didn’t think there was any nurturing in a BDSM relationship.”
“You don’t sound stupid, Giavanna. Most people don’t understand the intricacies that go on in this kind of relationship. That’s why we’re having this lesson, so you can learn. A good Dom tends to all the needs of his sub. If you become my sub, I would take care of all your wants and needs, both in and out of the bedroom. I would teach you and help you grow, both emotionally and sexually. And I would be your protector and provider. I get so much pleasure from taking care of you, being in control of your pleasure, but you haven’t fully relaxed into the relationship enough to let me do what I do best, and neither have I. If we had a formal arrangement where you were my sub, both of us could reach new heights. When I tied you up last night so that you were completely under my control, you came harder than I’ve ever seen you come before…and multiple times at that. I felt in my element that night, like I was doing what I was born to do. And I know you felt the earth move. I want our whole relationship to be like that moment.”
I gazed up at Trevor as he finished speaking. He looked so powerful and authoritative in his black designer suit and crisp white button-down. He had taken his tie off, and the top two buttons were undone. I wanted to run my tongue across his exposed neck. The mention of last night made me wet.
What if our entire relationship could be like last night? That sounds amazing…almost too good to be true. Hmm.
I took a deep breath and crossed my legs to neutralize the unwelcome sensations I was having. I had to think with my head, not with my body, if I was going to make the right decision about maintaining my independence.
“Well, I’m not going to lie. I would love if our entire relationship could be like what we had last night. But is that even possible? It seems too good to be true?”
“Anything is possible, Giavanna. I don’t believe in too good to be true.” Trevor put air quotes around the words “too good to be true” and said, “If I did, I wouldn’t be a billionaire, and I wouldn’t be a rock star. Many people would never even strive to accomplish what I’ve achieved because they think it’s too far-fetched and that they’ll never have it because it’s too good to be true. But I don’t think like that. The sky is the limit. If you were my sub, I would show you a whole new world. Giavanna, I can take
you higher than you’ve ever been before.”
Trevor did make a valid point. Our life together had already exceeded my wildest dreams. There really were no limits to Trevor’s magnificence — he had already proved that in the short time that I’d known him. He was a superhuman billionaire rock god who played by his own rules. My body quivered as I thought about how Trevor could broaden my horizons if I let him. I crossed and uncrossed my legs. I wanted to buy what Trevor was selling, but deep inside, I knew that even if Trevor was an amazing Dom, I definitely didn’t have it in me to be a good submissive.
“I believe you, Trevor. You’ve already made me happier than I could have even imagined. And I would love to partake in what you’re describing. But there has to be a catch. If I become your sub, how will the dynamics of our relationship change? What will I have to give up?”
Trevor rubbed his chin and looked off into space for several moments. My heart skipped a beat when his eyes met mine again. His gaze was penetrating. “There is no catch, per se. I’m not trying to trick you into anything, Giavanna.” He spoke carefully. “There would just be a shift in trust. As my sub, I would expect you to open up and give all of yourself to me, at all times. I will demand your complete and absolute trust. As your Dom, I will become your teacher, your provider, and your disciplinarian. I will expect you to do as I say, without question. As my sub, you would allow me to be in complete control, because you would fully understand that all of the decisions that I make, in and out of the bedroom, are for your greater good.”
I sat in silence for a few moments. I couldn’t fully wrap my head around what Trevor was asking of me. I’ve always prided myself on being strong and independent. Ever since I moved out of my parent’s house when I was nineteen, I’ve never answered to anyone. I could never trust anyone more than I trust myself. On one hand, I couldn’t imagine answering to anyone. On the other hand, I secretly thought it would be nice to relax and let someone else be the protector and provider for once. I’ve always worn the pants in every situation. It would be a good change of pace to give someone else the reins so I could relax. Perhaps it would be good for me to be able to get to the point where I felt comfortable giving someone my complete trust, both sexually and emotionally.
