Devil and Disciple

by L J K Cross

  Amanda regained the senses that had temporarily left her body and taken flight. As she came round she could feel her body, naked, apart from the thin film of sweat that covered it. She became conscious of the dull numbness between her legs and her wetness. She could feel Siobhan spent and semi-conscious beside her. Flashbacks raced through her mind and yet her body felt paralysed – so inexplicably relaxed and wonderfully sedate. Totally and utterly exhausted, Amanda closed her eyes and relived every unforgettable moment that had just transgressed. When she woke this morning she had had a premonition that today would be eventful and full of surprises but she hadn’t figured it would be quite this memorable. This wasn’t quite what she had imagined. Could today possibly have any more surprises in store for her? Could any of them possibly top that and if so how would she ever be able to handle it?

  Several hours later, Siobhan sidled into the passenger seat of a black BMW, stealthily parked in the far corner of some indistinguishable Las Vegas parking lot. She didn’t turn to acknowledge the driver but continued to stare ahead, making sure to avoid eye contact with him at all costs. Siobhan had always found it unsettling the way his stare somehow made her look upon her debauch life with regret and desperation. No man had ever been able to intimidate Siobhan the way he did.

  “How did it go?” Koroviev spoke first. He cared little for this damned siren and wanted as little to do with her as possible.

  “I think I managed to convince her,” replied Siobhan coyly, before correcting herself. “I mean I am more than certain that I managed to convince her. I can be very persuasive you know.”

  She didn’t want there to be any doubt that she had pulled out all the stops for her Master and used every seductive trick she knew. She daren’t displease or defy him.

  “So I hear.” Koroviev could barely hide his disgust at such self-admiring conceit.

  “I will be sure you convey your success to your Master. He will be most pleased.” Koroviev could feel the smile of self-satisfaction spreading across her face and couldn’t take any more.

  “You may go,” he ordered, releasing the automatic lock on the door.

  He was glad to see the back of her as he watched her stride with self possessed pride across the parking lot. He found her insufferably narcissistic but he knew from experience that even the most nauseating of irritations had their uses.

  CHAPTER 11

  Amanda stood outside the door for a minute, hand on handle, and braced herself. She hoped Steve was in a different frame of mind today and that he was back to his usual optimistic and charming self. Amanda had had such an amazing day so far. She just prayed that when she walked through the door it would continue. She took a deep breath and walked in.

  The room was empty. Amanda had expected to find Steve waiting there for her to return. Immediately she panicked and jumped to the most irrational of conclusions – What if he had left her? What if he had had enough, packed up his things and gone? Amanda’s eyes frantically scanned the room and found nothing. It looked scarily empty. She couldn’t see a single one of Steve’s belongings. Amanda gulped back the nauseating sickness that was rising in her throat. She struggled to keep her composure and think clearly but the pounding heartbeat that reverberated in her ears was distracting her.

  “Think,” Amanda screamed to herself. “What would Steve not be able to leave without?”

  “His passport,” she fired back. “In the safe,” she answered before she even managed to ask herself the question. Amanda was somehow already at the safe, desperately trying to remember the code to open it. In her haste, it took several attempts, accompanied by a few choice expletives, before she was successful. There they were, side by side, their passports. Amanda allowed herself to breathe a huge sigh of relief.

  Instinctively Amanda went to touch the bracelet he had given her only the other morning. Up until that morning, just over twenty-four hours earlier, the thought of Steve leaving her would never have entered Amanda’s head. So why then had she even dared to think such a thing? What had changed? Her? Him? Both of them? Or was she just over reacting? One thing Amanda could be certain of was that she wasn’t ready to give up on her and Steve just yet. Her reaction to the possibility that Steve might have left was way too raw and real. The loneliness that would lie ahead was already tangible within the room, making Amanda shudder at the thought.

  The starkness of the reality put things into crystal clear prospective. That morning’s tango of passion with Siobhan had been thrilling but the encounter had been nothing other than physical. It had been nothing more than a meeting of carnal desires and lascivious lust. It had made Amanda realise that what she and Steve had was so much more. How then could she even consider taking Siobhan’s advice to only consider her self and seize every opportunity that presented itself? Yesterday’s demeaning defeat may have made Amanda’s desire to achieve her dream stronger than ever, but even so, Amanda didn’t relish the thought of achieving it on her own. She couldn’t contemplate celebrating her accomplishments without Steve at her side, celebrating too. Amanda knew that the fulfillment of her dreams would be vacuous, meaningless, if she had no one to share them with.

  “Hey you are back. How did the shoot with Siobhan go?” Amanda had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard Steve come in the room. She whirled round at the unexpected sound of his voice and was met with that familiar beaming smile that never failed to make her melt. Today though his smile meant so much more. It said so much more. His whole demeanour had changed from yesterday. Amanda felt so exuberant and instantly reassured at the sight of him, but after the scare she had just given herself, she needed more. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing him, deeply, pulling him in, closely. She needed the physical reassurance of his body pressed against hers. She needed to feel their shared warmth and affection tangibly display their love.

  “It’s good to see you too baby. Is everything ok?” asked Steve, pulling briefly out of Amanda’s bone breaking hug, to get a proper look at her. He was a little taken aback at Amanda’s reaction.

  “Everything is fine. I just missed you,” assured Amanda, resting her head on Steve’s chest. She took a long deep breath, drawing in his familiarity and letting it envelop her. It felt so comforting.

  “Well I missed you too. I had such a relaxing morning. I really wish you could have been with me,” said Steve affectionately. “So you didn’t answer me before. How did your shoot with Siobhan go?”

  Amanda launched into a full, drawn out, account of her shoot with Siobhan. She gave Steve a detailed description of the house. She made sure to tell him about the outfit, in much more detail than Steve required, and brought him bang up to date with all the gossip from Siobhan’s colourful life. She told him everything – everything apart from the one most important detail. When it came to telling him about the video, Amanda got as far as telling him about lying naked on the bed and then stopped, uncertain as to how to continue. Should she tell him? What exactly should she tell him? Should she tell him they had fucked, hard and heavy? Should she tell him that they had made love, softly and sensually? Should she tell him how hard Siobhan had made her orgasm? Twice in fact. She was being totally irrational, Amanda told herself. Of course she should tell him. Steve had never had a problem with any of Amanda’s encounters with other women. More often than not, he encouraged it, just so long as he could sit back and watch and possibly join in, if he was invited. So what was stopping Amanda from telling him? Why couldn’t she be truthful with him?

  Steve took Amanda’s version of events at face value. He didn’t seem the least bit suspicious that the video had ended so abruptly, and fortunately for Amanda, changed the subject.

  “So what are your plans for the rest of the day?” asked Steve casually, as he lay on the bed, absentmindedly flicking through the mind-boggling selection of channels on the TV.

  “Well I have two muscle worship sessions with fans this afternoon,” replied Amanda, trying to affect the same air of casualness, but not
completely succeeding.

  “I know,” answered Steve, turning his head towards Amanda, a look of wariness on his face. He was waiting for what was to follow; uncertain as to whether he was going to like what he was about to hear.

  “And then?” he prompted when Amanda failed to continue.

  “Shit!” thought Amanda. She would have to tell him.

  “I have another session this evening. A last minute booking. I have to take it. I can’t afford not to. He is offering twice the normal rate,” blurted out Amanda all at once, not daring to pause for breath so that Steve could interject, not daring to turn away from the computer screen and face him.

  “And when the hell were you going to tell me about it?” shouted Steve.

  “I’ve literally only just confirmed it.” Amanda continued staring at her computer screen, afraid that is she looked up at Steve he would be able to see straight through her lies. “You know as well as me Steve that we really can’t afford to turn it down. You know how much this comp prep has set us back.”

  “And you know as well as me that we need some time together. I just thought we were going to be able to have a nice evening together, just the two of us but…” Steve sprung up from the bed, as if catapulted up by the steam that was coming out of his ears. He grabbed his keys and wallet off the table at the side of the bed as he did so.

  “Just forget about it. I’ll see you later.” And stormed out the room, making sure to give the door a frame shaking slam on the way out.

  “Brilliant,” muttered Amanda to herself. “Three steps forward, two back.”

  Just when she thought things were getting back on track with her and Steve. She really couldn’t fathom what was wrong with him at the moment but she just felt like she was walking on eggshells around him all the time. It was probably a good job she hadn’t told him about Siobhan then. It had probably been an even wiser decision not to fill Steve in on all the details of this evening’s mysterious meeting. Amanda hated to think what Steve’s reaction would be if he knew about the gift she had been sent and the fact that she planned to break one of their golden rules, which was not to go to their hotel. It was a security precaution they had always adhered to – until now that is. Oh well! She couldn’t waste time worrying about it now. She only had half an hour to get ready for her first muscle worship session with Mervyn, her number one fan.

  Amanda generously dabbed heady drops of her favourite perfume, Chanel No 5, along her pronounced collarbone and watched it trickle down between her deeply carved cleavage. No other aroma said class and sophistication like it. No other aroma permeated through and infused her very essence with its hedonistic indulgence. She took in a deep breath and inhaled its allure, feeling it enhancing her own. Her musings were interrupted by a timid knock at the door. It was so weak that at first Amanda wasn’t sure she had heard anything and so ignored it. It was only on the second, equally feeble, knock that Amanda glanced over at the clock on the bedside table. It was exactly three pm – on the dot. Amanda suppressed the urge to giggle. You could always rely on Mervyn to be painstakingly punctual. Amanda breezed over to the door and opened it with a warm, inviting smile.

  “Hi Mervyn,” Amanda cooed. “It is so great to see you. Come in.”

  Mervyn was usually so compliant. Like an eager puppy, he was always so anxious to please, so willing to obey even the smallest of Amanda’s commands. As soon as Amanda opened the door, Mervyn’s eyes lit up with awe inspired adulation. Amanda knew how much Mervyn looked forward to their meetings and just in case she didn’t, he made sure that he wrote to her weekly to tell her. Yet, despite her invitation inside, he remained in the hallway, a quivering bundle of nerves. Momentarily incapacitated in his anticipation and excitement. Fleetingly frozen in fear when faced with his fantasy. Amanda had to grab him by the arm, to physically pull him out of his trance and pull him into the room.

  The door had hardly closed behind him before he had thrown himself into her arms and was proclaiming his undying, all consuming love for her.

  “I am just so happy to see you,” he stuttered. “You look so beautiful. I can’t tell you how much I love you.”

  Amanda worried he was going to cry. She didn’t know how to reply and so just held him in an effort to calm him, but the tighter she held him, the more uncontrollably he shook. He literally clung to her like a shivering wreck, in need of rescuing from drowning in the depths of his emotions for her.

  “I r-really c-can’t believe it is you,” he continued, spluttering. “I am just s-s-so excited to see you. I really do…”

  “Ssssssshhhhh,” exhaled Amanda gently. Her warm breath in his ear soothed and coaxed him into surrender. Amanda knew that no matter how many times they met, each time Mervyn seemed more nervous than the last. Each time he was overcome with verbal hysteria, unable to prevent himself from repeatedly stuttering and stumbling over proclamations of love. He seemed nervous of silence; worried that Amanda would interpret it as uncertainty as to the true extent of his devotion. And yet Amanda could never get used to such emphatic excitement, such overbearing enthusiasm. It still felt strange. It still made her feel uncomfortable that her mere presence could make someone so apparently ill at ease and anxious. And so Amanda changed the subject and steered the conversation onto smoother ground.

  “So Mervyn, how are you enjoying Vegas? Have you had a good time?” Amanda directed her questions to the top of his head, as Mervyn was still clinging onto her for dear life, his head nuzzled deep into her substantially sized chest.

  “I sure have Ma’am. Thank you for asking Ma’am,” replied Mervyn with perfunctory politeness.

  “Are you staying in this hotel?” asked Amanda again in an effort to get some kind of conversation going.

  “I sure am Ma’am,” came Mervyn’s anticipated response. His replies never deviated from being anything other than excruciatingly short and polite. He had never once instigated conversation and he had never addressed her as anything other than “Ma’am.” Amanda’s attempts at any real conversation were futile. She felt adamant that if they conversed, even if it was only brief, then Mervyn would feel more at ease and enjoy himself more but Mervyn was just as adamant not to digress from what he was familiar with. Amanda, therefore, knew very little about him really. All she knew for certain was that he was a creature of habit. He was only comfortable when sticking to the pre arranged and well rehearsed format.

  Amanda relented.

  “So are you ready to get started?” The question was rhetorical.

  “Oh yes, Ma’am. Of course, Ma’am,” Mervyn effused. He released Amanda from his clutches so that he could open the rucksack that he always carried with him – his trusty gold Pittsburgh Steelers rucksack. Actually that was the one thing Amanda could say she knew to be categorically true about Mervyn. He was a die-hard Pittsburgh Steelers fan. If she had a thousand pounds to hand right now she would bet it all on knowing the exact contents of his rucksack; a pair of posing trunks, a gold Pittsburgh Steelers towel, a Pittsburgh Steelers drink canister, tape measure and notebook, lotion and some kind of present for her. Naturally with a Pittsburgh Steelers theme!

  Jackpot! Mervyn placed his rucksack on the bed and as he rummaged through, out came the trunks, the towel, the drinks canister, the tape measure, the notebook, the lotion. In that exact order. Amanda tried not to laugh. Did she get extra points for even guessing the right order?

  “Here. I bought this for you Ma’am.” Mervyn handed Amanda a gift bag, just as he did every time they met.

  “Ahh. Thank you Mervyn. That is so kind of you,” said Amanda gratefully, feigning surprise, and gently kissed him on the cheek. She instantly felt the heat of Mervyn’s cheeks burn up with bashfulness. A wide smile of childlike innocence spread across his face. His glassed misted up.

  “A Pittsburgh Steelers top. You shouldn’t have.”

  “He really shouldn’t have,” thought Amanda. She already had a substantial collection of clothing emblazoned with the Pittsburgh Steelers logo
. Anyone would have thought she was a die-hard fan, when to be honest she had never even seen them play.

  “And a teddy bear.”

  “With a Pittsburgh Steelers jersey on,” added Amanda quietly to herself. “Of course!”

  “Do you l-l-like it Ma’am?” asked Mervyn, nervously.

  “Of course I do. I love it,” gushed Amanda, doing her best to reassure him.

  “I w-w-want you to think of m-me every time you cuddle it Ma’am. Will you do th-th-that for me Ma’am? I j-just l-l-love you s-so much,” he stumbled and rushed in for another hug.

  “You are my teddy bear. You are so adorable,” affirmed Amanda and as she spoke she felt Mervyn squeeze her just that little bit harder. She felt him love her just that little bit more.

  “Maybe you should go and get changed now Mervyn,” suggested Amanda otherwise he would probably have never let her go.

  “Yes Ma’am. Right away Ma’am,” and he raced off into the bathroom to change.

  Amanda absentmindedly checked her reflection in the mirror as she waited. The way Mervyn jumped into action at her every command, along with his efficiently short, disciplined answers always left Amanda feeling like she was his Sergeant Major or his schoolmistress. That was a thought. She might have hit the nail on the head there. Maybe in his formative years, Mervyn had experienced an unbalanced relationship of power and position that had led him to develop a fascination for strong, powerful women. Some would call it a fetish rather than a fascination. Some would also call Mervyn, a schmoe, a term that derogatorily referred to fans of female muscle, but Amanda took offence with that. It suggested that there was something strange and perverted about Mervyn and about her as well come to that. Then again those kinds of people probably considered fetish as being anything more experimental than straightforward missionary. If that was the case then they were the ones with a problem. They were the ones who needed to open their minds a bit. They were the ones, in Amanda’s opinion, who were strange and hypocritically repressed. Amanda was sure Freud would have had a field day analysing such straight-laced people and all their pent up sexual frustrations. At least someone like Mervyn knew what his fantasies were and was willing to explore them.