by Lila Dubois
* * * * *
“Leona, there’s someone at the front desk asking for you.”
I looked up from my laptop to see one of the LACMA security guards leaning in the conference room door.
“Who?”
“Brad something. He said he’s a contractor working with you and Salli.”
“Oh yes, he is.”
The guard shrugged. “Salli isn’t here.”
“I’ll come down.”
I waited for the security guard to look away before I pushed myself up out of my chair with my arms. My leg and back muscles were sore, and my butt hurt from yesterday’s spanking. I walked down to the front desk of the museum with the guard. Brad was waiting there.
In the afternoon sunlight that spilled in from the glass walls his hair was gold. He was bigger than I remembered—his shoulders seemed massive. My stomach fluttered but I shook off the feeling. Residual desire from yesterday’s session with Master Clay was probably making me hyperaware of other men.
As we approached, Brad looked over and smiled. It lit up his whole face. I smiled in return, fighting to ignore the way that sexy smile made me feel.
“You here to give me the secret code word?” Brad asked.
“More like I’m here to be your escort.” I signed Brad in, noting my ID number on the clipboard.
“Escort?” Brad wiggled his eyebrows.
Biting my lip to stop a giggle, I motioned for him to follow me. Since he’d come through the main doors we wound our way through the exhibits on our way to the door that led to the offices.
“Wait.”
I turned at Brad’s words. He was looking toward the entrance to one of the exhibits. The doorway was painted black and a faint glow of blue light could be seen. Brad moved as if he were caught in a spell. I followed him.
The exhibit hall featured the work of a famous light and space artist from Los Angeles. His works included rooms bathed in light, long corridors, wall-sized geometric images, holes in the ceiling that replicated skylights, but which were actually huge monitors showing the sky above the Atacama Desert—the purest sky in the world.
Brad was examining a piece that consisted of oval layers of blue light. “It’s like looking into the heart of the world.”
I stared at Brad in shock. “That’s…exactly how I feel about it.”
There was something about the shape and the colors that had always made me feel connected to the world in a way that I couldn’t explain.
He closed his eyes, his face bathed in the cool blue light. I stared at him for a moment, feeling something I couldn’t name. Turning to face the piece, I too closed my eyes and let out a deep breath.
I wasn’t sure how long we stood there, how long I let myself float, indulging in the feeling of connectedness. When I opened my eyes, Brad was looking at me.
“Sorry,” I said. “We should go.”
“Don’t be sorry. You were there. I could see it on your face.”
I didn’t need to ask where, because I felt as though I understood.
Brad took my hand. I jumped, startled by the contact. Our gazes met, his face, washed in blue, handsome and strong.
I took a half step forward, curling my fingers around his before I realized what I was doing. Jerking my hand from his, I crossed my arms over my belly.
“We should go.”
There was a long moment of silence before I heard him shifting from foot to foot. “Sure, let’s go.”
I led the way out of the exhibit. I felt better that I hadn’t been wrong about Brad when we first met, but I didn’t want to get butterflies in my stomach when I looked at him. Boys like Brad were my past. Master Clay was my future.
When I opened the conference room door, Brad set down his bag and pulled out his computer. I risked a glance at him and he smiled at me. There was no anger in his face, no weirdness in the way he looked at me.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I brought over a print of the John Divola photograph that would be in the collection. “I’m done with everything for this one. It’s easy since it focuses on the central triangle image and the colors are only black and white.”
Brad picked up the poster board, looking between it and the exhibit text I passed over. The photo was from his vandalism series and featured the corner of a dirty room. Uneven gray paint was a backdrop for white painted spots that formed a triangle across the floor and both walls.
“Send me this part of the text and I’ll put it into the app. Let’s test this baby out.”
Going back to my computer, I emailed Brad the text, then scooted around to look at his screen as he worked.
“Can you make that a link to a new screen? Like a cross-reference?”
I leaned to the side to point at his screen and my weight shifted from my thighs to my left ass cheek. A twinge of pain made me wince and I braced my hands on the arms of the chair.
“Are you okay?”
I’d been so focused on work I hadn’t even thought about what I was doing. “Yeah, I’m fine.” My heart was hammering in my chest. There was no way that Brad could know I was sore from a spanking.
He was frowning as he looked at me, and he held my gaze a moment longer than was casual. When he finally focused on the screen once more I breathed a sigh of relief.
We worked for another three hours, long past the time my internship should have been over. When I looked at the clock I groaned.
“Shit. It’s late. I have to go. I have the first draft of a paper due tomorrow.”
“I didn’t realize what time it was.”
We packed up at record speed. Brad opened the door for me and we hustled out of the quiet museum. There were people outside taking photos in the lampposts, but the inside of the museum was quiet. I looked at the light and space exhibit, remembering the connection we’d had.
Once we were out on the street, Brad jingled his keys. “Want a ride?”
I thought about what time it was, about how long it would take to get home on the bus.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, you’re on my way.”
“In that case, yes please.”
“My car’s over here.”
I followed him to one of the surface parking lots and up to a sleek gray sports car. “Wow, nice car.” I peered at the emblem. “Is this one of those electric cars? The ones they custom build?”
“Yeah, it’s a Tesla.”
I raised one eyebrow. These cars were each custom made and seriously expensive. He opened my door for me and I slid into a gray leather seat.
When he was in, I watched with interest as he powered on the electric car. It was seriously quiet.
“It’s like a ninja car,” I said.
“Ninja car? I like that.”
“You know what I mean. It’s quiet.”
“I am Brad the ninja, in my ninja car.”
“You a ninja? Not so much. I’d definitely notice you coming.” The words were out of my mouth before I could think them through.
“Oh yeah?” We were stopped at a light so he leered at me.
I smiled and shook my head. Taking his phone from the console, I plugged my number into it. “Here’s my number so you can call my cell next time, instead of waiting as security.”
“Thanks. I’ll text you so you have my number.”
When we were closer to campus I gave him directions to my building.
“I’ll see you next week,” he said as he pulled to the curb. “I need a few days to pull together what we talked about.”
“That sounds good. I’ll be there tomorrow so email me if you need anything. Next Friday is the big LACMA benefit gala, so don’t plan on coming in next Thursday or Friday.” I opened the door and swung my legs out.
Brad grabbed my wrist, his fingers wrapping around me as if they were a cuff. “Stop, Leona.”
My breath caught, my whole body humming to life. I half turned to Brad, my gaze down, my lips parted.
He released my arm. “Don’t forget your compute
r.”
I snapped back to reality. My gaze flew to his and then I looked away. I was…ashamed of what had just happened, terrified that I’d reacted like that. There was no way Brad could know that his words and touch had made me respond to him as if he were a Dom. At worst he thought I was weird.
“Uh, thanks.” I grabbed my laptop bag off the floor and scrambled out. I thought I felt him watching me as I walked away, but when I looked back his car was gone.
Chapter Five
My roommate was at a sorority formal, leaving me blissfully alone in my room. The other suitemates were chatting and talking, but between my time at Master Clay’s and the unexpected extra hours at LACMA I was behind my personal schedule. Sitting cross-legged on my bed with my back against the wall, I looked through the outline I’d made for the essay, making sure I’d covered all the main points of the argument and cited everything correctly.
Halfway through I got bored and flipped over to check my Tumblr account. There was a new direct message waiting for me.
It was from Master Clay.
My whole body flushed and my fingers shook as I tapped the track pad to open the message.
Hello, Leona. When you receive this message you will, assuming you have privacy, open the bag I gave you when you left. Please follow the instructions you’ll find there.
I curled my hands into fists, then, before I could overthink it, grabbed the glossy black gift bag from under the bed. The bag was filled with tissue, hiding the heavy contents, but there was an envelope on the top.
Ripping it open, I read the note.
Leona,
You elected to wear a plug and nipple clamps for one hour. Log in to the online meeting room at the address below. The password is your name. Depending on my schedule I might watch you live, otherwise the virtual meeting software will record the video and I will watch it later.
Once the hour starts do not go off camera. You may not touch your pussy.
-MC
I pulled out the tissue and then set out the items I found in the bag. There was a short glass plug, nipple clamps, a tube of lube and a webcam.
My laptop had a built-in webcam, but I plugged in the one he’d given me and typed in the web address on the bottom of the note. I typed in my name when prompted for a password and the virtual meeting room popped up. There was a chat window in the sidebar, but the majority of the screen was the image from my new webcam, currently showing my roommate’s side of the room.
I hooked the camera over the edge of my laptop screen to get it out of the way and started cleaning up my bed. I stacked my papers, putting them to the side. I still needed to finish proofing my essay, but that would have to wait a few minutes.
“Leona.”
Master Clay’s voice made me jump. I lunged for my laptop, turning down the volume. I didn’t want my suitemates to hear a man’s voice coming from my room.
There was now a second “person” in the meeting room. Under the video feed of me was a little note that said “this user has disabled video sharing.” It appeared this would be a one-way show.
I typed in the chat window. Hello, Master Clay.
He typed his reply. The camera has a microphone.
I chewed on my lip, then picked up the camera and slowly spun it around so he could see my room, in particular my roommate’s bed.
Is your roommate there?
No, Master Clay, but my suitemates are. They’re in the common room.
I understand. We will communicate in the chat window, but I want you to turn on the microphone so I may hear your reactions.
I breathed a sigh of relief and enabled the mic function. Thank you, Master Clay.
You’re welcome, Leona. As I said, I respect your privacy and your need to protect yourself and your future. Now why don’t you take a step back so I can see you.
I grimaced. I was not looking my sexiest at the moment. Turning my laptop, I got off the bed and took a few step backs. I examined myself in the video image. My hair was pulled back with clips and I wasn’t wearing any makeup. I had on a lettered sweatshirt and jeans with fuzzy socks.
I shrugged and waved a little.
You’re lovely, Leona. I forget how young you are.
I didn’t know how to respond to that. Was the fact that I was young good or bad?
Remove your clothing.
And just like that my mood went from slightly uncomfortable and anxious to aroused.
I started with my socks, quickly stripping them off, then unfastening my jeans and wiggling out of them. I was wearing blue cotton boy-short panties. They were a far cry from the black silk and lace he’d gotten me.
Next was my sweatshirt. I wasn’t wearing anything under it. My bra was white cotton with blue polka dots.
I paused, suddenly nervous.
Leona, I’m waiting.
I held up one finger, ran to the door to make sure it was locked, then ran back.
Remembering that he’d said not to go off camera I typed, making sure the door was locked, then stripped off my bra and panties in quick movements.
Standing naked in my room was very different from standing naked in the Marquis’ Quarters. I felt more exposed in the overhead fluorescent light. Standing here like this I couldn’t pretend I was someone else, some elegant, sexy version of myself. I was just Leona—Leona who was naked and taking orders from a Dom via webcam.
It’s time to begin. The hour starts when both the clamps and plug are in place. Please move the camera to make sure I have a good view.
I climbed onto the mattress and set my laptop on my dresser, which was at the foot of the bed. I looked at the things on the comforter and decided to start with the nipple clamps. Picking up the webcam, I held it in my left hand, pointing it at my breasts. I watched the screen, watched as my fingers plucked at each nipple, pulling and twisting until they were hard.
When I was ready I grabbed the clamps. Using my right hand while the left moved the camera, I opened the stiff clamp and positioned it over my nipple. Bit by bit I released it, the plastic-covered tips closing on my sensitive flesh. They were tight and I hissed in pain.
Does that hurt?
Unable to type, I moved the camera until it showed my face and nodded.
Good. Do the other nipple. Quickly.
I obeyed, clamping my other breast. I was breathing hard as my nipples throbbed with pain. Now I understood why he’d wanted the mic.
Now I want you to kneel on the bed. Put the laptop where you can read what I type, but position the camera behind you so I can see your ass.
After a minute of maneuvering I had the camera propped on one of the posts of the bed, my laptop near my shoulders, as close to my head as the length of the camera cord would allow. I pulled my knees up under me in a sort of child’s pose.
My ass and pussy were centered in the video image. I looked away in embarrassment.
Coat one finger in lube and rub it over your anus. Then coat the plug in lube.
My lubed finger was slippery against my ass. It was easier to do it if I didn’t look at the image, so I closed my eyes, stroking the entrance to my ass slowly, hoping to feel the same pleasure I had when Master Clay had done that. After a while it felt good, but nothing like when he’d been the one playing with my ass.
My belly tight with nerves, I coated the plug in lube. There was a ribbon of red glass running through it, and the flared base was oval in shape instead of round.
My thoughts flashed to Brad. Brad, who’d seen such beauty where other people saw only colored light. I wondered what Brad would think if he could see me. Wondered if he’d like what he saw.
I couldn’t be thinking about him right now. I didn’t want to think about him.
Trying to force myself to focus I reached back, positioned the tip of the plug against my anus and pushed hard. The slippery glass forced its way in, the shock of pain enough to have me crying out in surprised pain.
Slowly, Leona. Remove the plug entirely and start again.
How was that?
I wiped my hands on my discarded sweatshirt, which had landed on the bed.
It hurt. More than when you did it.
When you’re aroused your body is easily able to read pain as pleasure. Alone, your level of arousal will not be as intense, and therefore you will feel more pain than pleasure with the plug and clamps.
Yes, Master.
The countdown starts now. You will not be able to wear the clamps that whole time. I will advise you when to take them off and when to reapply them.
I realized that I was stuck kneeling on my bed with my laptop at my side. After five minutes a combination of boredom and anxiety about my essay had my reaching for the keys.
Master Clay?
Yes, Leona?
I was working on an essay. Can I keep doing that?
Of course.
I’ll need to move my laptop and stuff.
Very well, as long as I have a good view of your pussy and ass.
It took me a few minutes, but I ended up on my back with my legs spread, the camera on a pillow between my legs and my laptop resting on my belly. I had to hold my papers up to read them, but at least I could see my screen and type.
At some point I’d tucked my phone under my pillow. When it buzzed I reached up and grabbed it, careful not to shift too much.
I had a text from an unknown number.
This is the ninja looking for the math geek.
I grinned. Brad.
I looked guiltily at my laptop, changing programs to the virtual meeting window. But Master Clay couldn’t see what I was doing, and he had an explicit view of my pussy and the base of the plug.
No math geeks here. Math ninja.
Understood, math ninja. What u doing?
For one insane minute I thought about typing “Video meeting with a sex Dom. I have a plug in my ass and clamps on my nipples. What are you doing?”
