by Aya DeAniege
The dress was slipped off easily, over my head and then I stopped. In nothing more than a pair of panties, I hesitated with the dress.
“Drop it on the floor like you don't care,” Nathaniel said.
Meeting his eyes, I lifted the dress to nearly shoulder level and let it slip from my fingers.
I had no idea if that was what he meant, but I had seen a woman do that once in a movie and had thought it looked sexy. As Nathaniel continued to watch me, I moved to the bed and slipped onto it.
“Middle of the bed,” he said when I stopped by the side of the bed.
I shifted over, into the middle of the bed.
“Arms up and under the pillow,” he said, coming around the bed.
I did as I was bid and turned my head towards him.
“Face the other way,” he hesitated as I moved to obey. “You are not to move your arms, nor your head. Face the other way at all times. If you turn towards me, or if you move your arms, I will tie you down and then I will discipline you. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” Nathaniel asked.
“Yes, Sir,” I said, though I was starting to get annoyed at constantly having to call him 'Sir' at every turn.
Nathaniel opened a drawer and fiddled with something. I had no idea what it was. Facing the other way, I could see nothing and with my arms up, it wasn't like I could just feel whatever was going on.
“Spread your legs,” Nathaniel said. When I obeyed, he climbed between them. “Little further.”
The bedding was soft and oh so smooth. Almost cool to the touch, but it warmed under my flesh. The pillow was firm, not too fluffy, but also not flat and hard as some others I had used were. The pillow cases carried the scent of Nathaniel. I wanted to breathe that scent in, yet even the small waft of it reminded me of where I was and what was going on.
Suddenly breathing was difficult. I took several short breaths as I obeyed. I could have glanced over my shoulder to Nathaniel, but that seemed like tempting fate.
The man leaned down over me. Holding himself up with one hand, he came within inches of my back. The heat of his naked torso against my back was almost too much to bear. I wanted to press up against him.
“Try not to thrash,” he said.
I had a moment to think, shit before the toy turned on and pressed against me. I stiffened, trying not to arch backward. Hands tightening against the bedspread, I pressed downward instead. Nathaniel followed me, his body pressing against mine as I vibrated down my whole length.
When I whimpered, the toy was moved away. I dragged in breath after breath, trying to get actual air into my lungs.
“Do you like that?" Nathaniel asked.
I struggled with the response that he required of me, but I managed to remember, “Yes, Sir.”
Nathaniel made a small sound. “Good.”
The toy returned, making me tremble under its might. It was very shortly too much. I struggled to get away, but Nathaniel was against my back, pinning me down. The only part of me that could move was my hips, writhing back and forth but not much further.
All I managed to do was to shift where the toy touched.
And then it got worse. Well, better, really, but all I could feel was the boiling heat coming off of Nathaniel as his muscled torso pressed against me, and the insistent vibration of the toy between my legs. Neither was letting me off easy, neither would pull away just because I couldn't take it any more.
I cried out, and Nathaniel shushed me quietly.
“Come for me," Nathaniel whispered, his lips near my ear. I shook with a need to obey, wanting to do as he asked. "That's it," I moaned and Nathaniel sighed. "That's it, Darling. Come for me." I didn't think I could do it. His deep voice tugged at my attention. "Please, Darling," ever so slowly he spoke, "come for me."
My body tensed.
For a moment, I was on a precipice and had no idea how I would fall. And then my body shuddered as I cried out my release into the pillow. The toy remained for a moment longer, then pulled away and shut off.
“Did you enjoy that?” Nathaniel asked as his hand slid into my underwear and followed the curve of my buttocks to that place the toy had been tormenting only a moment before. The man chuckled, “I see you did.”
I tried to roll and bat his hand away, but his free hand caught my wrist and pinned it to the bed roughly. The fingers continued to probe until my hips twitched.
“Good, I just wanted to be certain I knew where that was,” Nathaniel murmured, removing his hands. “You did well.” his hands caressed my back and legs. “We'll work on that, did you find the wording jarring?”
“What wording?” I asked.
“Come for me,” Nathaniel said quietly.
I couldn't shake the feeling that he was begging me even as he commanded me. There was something about the words combined with the tone that made me want to obey.
“No, it's not jarring,” I said after a long moment.
“Good. Once we have you trained to come on command, we'll dabble in multiple orgasm ... s. Darling?”
Nathaniel's finger probed my side, jarring me out of my trance.
“What?” I groaned.
“You didn't get like this before,” Nathaniel said, sounding concerned. “Are you dropping?”
“No, just,” I could only shrug in response to the question.
I couldn't even put words to how delightfully floaty I felt.
“All right, you need sleep,” he murmured, shifting off the bed.
“I-I-I,” I struggled to sit up, “I can go, it's your bed.”
“No," Nathaniel said sternly as he stripped off his pants. "When we play, you don't have to go back to your rooms. Though I don't like sleeping in pants, they're confining."
He climbed into bed beside me and pulled the blankets up, tucking me in.
“Roll over,” he said.
I did as he commanded without thought. Nathaniel pushed up against my back. His heat oozed into my body so delightfully. The lights went off, casting a darkness over the bedroom. It was a strange room, an odd setup. I didn't do well in new places, but I was so comfortable with Nathaniel to my back.
After the events of the hour previous, it was difficult to feel anything but comfortable and tired, and just a little curious as to what else was in store for me.
Chapter Twelve
I woke the next day to an empty bed. The side that Nathaniel had slept on was wrinkled and a mess, but cold to the touch. He was long gone with no explanation as to when he would be back.
That did not make me happy, but I got up and threw on the dress from the night before. I left Nathaniel's rooms and managed to find the way back to my room on my own. That surprised me, but I recalled the Gothic paintings and what order they went in. Those paintings took me to an area I recognized and from there I found my way.
In my room, I undressed and showered. Then went to the wardrobe and selected a clean dress. I was finding more and more cool colours in my wardrobe with a few mingling warm colours. That day I chose a dress that started as white at the shoulders and changed slowly until it was bright orange around the hem. It was a different sort of colouring for me, and I wondered if I would look good in such a dress.
I was still in the towel when there was a knock on the door. Deciding that the dress would have to do, I slipped it on. Then I marched to the door and snatched it open.
“Breakfast will be had in the dining room, this morning,” the servant said.
“Just give me a moment to brush my hair,” I said, heading back to the bathroom.
After brushing my hair, I left the bathroom again and followed the servant to the dining room. There, I sat at my usual spot, and I waited.
And waited.
Nathaniel arrived twenty minutes later, soaked in sweat, and wearing his workout clothing. We were to work out after breakfast, not before, so I had a moment of worrying that I had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
He sat beside me, not acr
oss the table like usual. The food was served, and we ate together without a word. I didn't know if I was supposed to start the conversation, but I also didn't have a way to start it. Conversation at meal time was a new thing to me, and something only rich people did as far as I was concerned.
Did we talk about the night before? Did we talk about the day? The weather?
After breakfast, he asked a servant to bring me a cup of tea and a book. Then he went off to shower. I sat and read the book, sipping the tea while I waited for him. It was over an hour later that he returned, looking prim and proper once more.
He sat beside me again, and we began our negotiation at the breakfast table over cold tea. I won't go over all the details, but I had to respond verbally yes, no, or maybe to everything. He started with a few regular items and then moved on to worse things until I realized I was being tested. Then we went back over the list from before.
At the end of the negotiation, Nathaniel spent a few minutes thinking, then he told me how and what he would do to me. He did so in great detail, though became vague when it came to how, or if, I would be allowed to orgasm.
And then we went to work out, and I watched Nathaniel strain, watched how his body moved as he went through a different sort of workout than usual. Every motion he made was a reminder of what he promised to do to me later that night. Heat filled my belly. Anticipation made my chest feel almost hollow. It was like anxiety, except good.
According to the negotiation, we would play after dinner. During the day we were to be full and productive, as per usual.
Once our workout was done, we went to Nathaniel's study, where I read Paradise Lost out loud, and he did work. When I reached the lines:
Here we may reign secure, and in my choice
To reign is worth ambition though in Hell:
Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heav'n
I stopped and stared at the opposite wall as I contemplated what that meant.
“What?” Nathaniel asked, looking up from his computer when the silence stretched longer than a moment.
“Is—is he saying that being in a servant position is wrong?” I asked.
“There's a great deal of debate around many classics and specific lines within them. I believe that line is one which is debated,” Nathaniel said calmly, focusing his attention on me. “Amongst the community we don't see it so much as saying that serving is wrong, as we do that serving the wrong person is.”
The fact that the community, which so far had only been about sex and fetishes, might discuss literature as well, caught my interest.
I would later meet the book club, who would take me into their number. The first few books they read with me were not as complicated as they were used to, chosen so that I could join them and feel like a part of something. The community wasn't just about sex, though that was a large part of it. They were also about education, equality, and rights of victims.
Being a representation of both poor and rich folk gave them a unique perspective.
“But, heaven and hell are pretty clearly defined,” I said.
“Suppose you'd have to read more," Nathaniel murmured. "There have been several comments on that, but it's more like he's saying that Heaven isn't all it's cracked up to be if he has to serve God. Not because God is even inherently wrong, but in this example, God isn't the right fit for Lucifer."
“God is God,” I said. “Isn't he? Everyone has to serve God.”
“I think that's the point," Nathaniel said. "If you think of the time it was written in; there were monarchs. Not all kings were good, but you still had to serve them. So, is it better to serve a corrupt man in your nation of birth, or would it be better to leave your home and find a new place, where you have the ability to say no, to have control over something in your life?
“Not everyone who went with Lucifer ruled. Only Lucifer did. So I see it as him rallying his followers. That life in ell will be better than it was in heaven.”
We might have had it wrong—I don't care—but our conversations about literature were of great interest to me. They engaged us both and made me think outside of the lines society had drawn for me.
When I just stared back at Nathaniel, contemplating, he said, “Did you have something to add?”
“I suppose I can see your point since my situation is sort of similar," I said slowly. "But I have just as little control now as I did then."
“After last night and this morning, do you really think that you aren't in control?” Nathaniel asked. “The thing about a sub is that they can have a great deal of control. If you were a slave, that would be another matter. Though I've heard from slaves that it is the most freeing decision they've ever made.”
“I suppose,” I said.
“Keep reading,” Nathaniel murmured, turning back to his work.
The day seemed to go agonizingly slow. I had so much to think about, but Nathaniel kept me engaged. When we stopped for lunch, I ended up staring off for the duration. My mind bounced between the scene we would be doing later that night, and Paradise Lost.
In the afternoon, Nathaniel had me switch to a romance novel. He had me read many romance novels. I've forgotten the title of that first one. The classics were dense, during those first few books, he would have me break off and read something simpler. I suppose my voice must have taken on a different quality when my mind was too full of all the words.
Dinner was a four-course meal. That meal was my first introduction to an actual rich person meal. It dragged out forever. I paid close attention to everything Nathaniel did. I used the wrong spoon for the soup, and the wrong fork for the main course, but was corrected quietly and without aggravation.
He had such patience, whereas I found myself fiddling with things and moving in my seat as I tried not to think about our negotiations.
I was aware that Nathaniel was watching me, and that he found some amount of pleasure in watching me writhe in my seat. That awareness only brought the heat from between my legs to the rest of my body. My cheeks warmed to the point that I knew they were red.
Once the plates were removed, they were replaced with tea and coffee. I looked across the table at Nathaniel, and he almost smiled as he brought the cup to his lips. I must have been glaring, the annoyance plain on my face.
The thought of the scene was making me uncomfortably wet. Because I was still so new to being truly, honestly aroused, I was certain that at any moment I'd slide off my chair.
Or that when I stood there would be a wet spot.
There wasn't, there never is. At least not from arousal alone, but that's what happens when you don't know how actual sex works.
When Nathaniel finished his coffee, he sat there a moment longer as if to see if I would protest. After my outburst the night before, I probably shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. It was that surprise that stopped me from protesting.
“Are you ready?”
I was ready six hours ago!
“Yes,” I said, trying to sound calm because by that point I knew he was toying with me.
Nathaniel stood. I followed his lead, then walked around the table and took his arm when he held it out. He took me to his rooms, where he went immediately to the bathroom.
I knew what was expected of me because we had discussed it all before hand. For Nathaniel's part, he followed the negotiation perfectly. If we strayed from our discussion, it was because of my hesitance, not on his part at all.
When Nathaniel went to the bathroom, he closed the door. He would be in there for a few minutes, changing into something more comfortable that would give him a range of movement.
I, in turn, stripped off my dress and set it across the back of the chair nearest to the door. Underneath I had only been wearing underwear. Nathaniel had yet to provide a bra of some sort. I was used to wearing support in some manner, though it had normally been a binding.
Having my breasts suddenly unbound for days on end was odd, yet comfortable. They also seemed to be so much larger, a
nd I saw them at all times. They were just right there, in my face. And they bounced at every movement!
Sometimes I just played with them.
While Nathaniel was in the bathroom, I did just that. I was used to them being flattened against my chest, so every once in a while I had to touch them to reassure myself that they were mine, they were attached to me, and hadn't been altered in any way.
At least, that's what I told myself then.
Nathaniel returned from the bathroom, wearing a pair of black pajama bottoms instead of the suit. He walked in on me fondling myself and came to as top. His green eyes narrowed just slightly, and he almost turned away.
Hands on my breasts, I stared back at him awkwardly, not certain what to do then.
“If you're trying to hide your nipples, your hands need to move,” he said with a slight motion.
“I—” I dropped my hands and looked away. “Uh, yeah.”
“Were you playing with them?”
“No...” I said.
Truth be told, I wasn't certain what I had been doing. I prayed that Nathaniel didn't believe anything else. If he thought I was lying at any point during play, then play would end, and discipline would begin. He had been very clear about that.
Nathaniel crossed the distance between us. He laid his hands on me and massaged gently.
“They are erogenous spots," Nathaniel murmured. "If you touch other areas, you should let me know when you realize what you are doing. Those are the spots you want to be touched," his hands moved from my breasts to my sides, and grazed down to my hips, drawing a shudder from me. "I want to touch you where you want to be touched."
“Yes, Sir,” I said.
“Proceed,” Nathaniel murmured, pulling away from me.
I moved to the ottoman in the odd area. There, I knelt and laid my torso across the width of the ottoman. I glanced at Nathaniel who frowned and walked around me. He walked away and returned with a cushion. I had no idea where the cushion had come from, but I stood and took a step back.
The cushion went where I was kneeling before, and I took my position once more. Nathaniel ran a hand over my back and buttocks.
