Legacy: Book Two of the Chronicles of the Nubian Underworld

by Shakir Rashaan

  “So, what shall I call you, sir?” I asked again, sticking to the script when dealing with assholes that wanted to play a role. God, all he had to do was play along and we could both get off.

  “I think you have figured it out,” he answered. The enigmatic tone in his voice intrigued me and repulsed me at the same time.

  “You want me to call you ‘sir’?” I questioned. I tried to keep my wits about me, but this guy was turning me off by the second. I was going to have to pull an Academy Award-winning performance with this one.

  “That’s right, Tina, I want you to call me ‘sir.’ How old are you, Tina, and tell me the truth; I will know if you don’t.” He was insistent, almost controlling, as he inquired.

  In truth, I couldn’t call him a mystery, or even a stranger, for that matter. He had been calling for about the past month or so, and he always called me on the same days, but not often enough to where I could figure out when he was calling so that I could be prepared for his call. Sometimes the calls would be hot as hell, to the point to where I needed to masturbate again between calls. Other times, it would be a test of my patience before he finally got off. But it seemed as if he was doing enough to keep me interested and repulsed at the same time.

  But, whatever, it’s not like this dude had a polygraph over the phone or something. “I’m nine…”

  “The truth, Tina, you are never supposed to tell me anything but the truth,” he demanded. “I can hear the maturity in your voice; you’re older than nineteen.”

  “I’m twenty-three, sir.” I lied anyway, this time a little more demurely to keep up the façade of my “submission” to him. I didn’t care who the person was, the one thing I never do, and what the company that I work for requires, is to give my real name, age, or location.

  “And what is your real name, Tina?” he asked. I noticed more aggression in his voice this time. I swear this guy wouldn’t quit. I didn’t care how turned on I was with him in the past, I was two seconds shy of disconnecting the line, but not before I milked him for what he was worth.

  “I’m sorry, sir?”

  “Your real name, bitch…now!”

  “It’s Melissa, sir,” I snapped as the fake name rolled off my tongue like it was my real name. Yeah, I was really going to tell him my real name; who the hell was he kidding? He had me mixed up with another clueless bitch or something. He wouldn’t know if I was lying or telling the truth anyway; I was on a secured line. Daddy made sure of it before I started working.

  “Melissa, I understand, not exactly a sexy name. I’ll call you Calypso instead. Will you be my Calypso?” His voice deepened.

  At last, I was relieved, some type fantasy, someone I could “be” for this jackass. “Certainly, sir, I’ll be your Calypso.”

  “Do you live alone, Calypso? Remember, tell the truth.”

  “No sir, I don’t.” I blew out air in frustration, muting my headset to keep him from hearing it. This dude was getting too personal. I should have hung up the phone then, but this was more of a power play now, and he was not about to get the best of me.

  “Who do you live with, Calypso?”

  “I live with my boyfriend, sir.”

  “And is he good to you; does he take good care of you? Does he turn you on?”

  “Sir?” I asked. I didn’t want to engage in unnecessary drivel, but I was gonna get my money out of him. Thank goodness it was almost time for me to get off work anyway, otherwise, I would have cut his ass a long time ago.

  “This is my time, Calypso. Never give me anything but your full attention during my time.” The tone in his voice tried to give me the idea he wanted to get rough with me.

  “Yes sir.” I couldn’t argue with him, nor did I want to. He was right after all, it was his time…and his dime. “I’m yours for as long as you like.”

  “Calypso, does your boyfriend take care of you?”

  “No sir, he…well, he can barely hold down a job.”

  “And does he turn you on?”

  “No sir, mostly he bores me.” I knew full well I was getting satisfied on a lot of levels, but he didn’t need to know all of that information. All I needed was another ten minutes with him and I would have gotten my c-note out of him for the night.

  “What turns you on, Calypso?”

  “Ummm…” The “shy girl” persona kicked in now; my eyes watching the clock the entire time.

  “Does this job do it for you?” he asked with contempt.

  “No sir, nothing really does anymore.” I was mentally done with him, now. My body didn’t even want to respond to anything he said. I wanted to say, “You don’t do it for me,” but I knew that wouldn’t help matters for getting the money out of him I wanted.

  “Mmmmmm, I’m sure we can find something, Calypso.” I imagined the smirk on his face as he mumbled those words.

  “Yes sir, I’m sure.” I was ad-libbing now, preparing to launch into my “fuck me up the ass” persona because this guy was boring me to tears.

  “Don’t patronize me, Calypso. I want you, but I want you willing, and I want you mine, completely mine. I’m not interested in your professional self, your phone self. I want you, Calypso; do you understand that?”

  “Yes sir.” I was surprised at my response. It felt almost like enthusiasm for a moment. I heard him getting excited, which meant I could milk him some more. That got me wet, releasing my inner slut.

  “That’s better, pet. Now tell me what you look like for real. I want you to stand in front of a mirror and tell me what you see.”

  I knew from his tone he was serious, but I was snug in my bed and horny. There wasn’t a force on earth that could get me out of bed…well, that’s not entirely accurate.

  “Well, I’m about five feet seven inches, reddish-brown hair, light-green eyes…”

  “What is your body like, my dear?”

  “Well, it’s not perfect; I could lose about fifteen pounds, but it is not bad, either. I have forty-four-inch hips, a thirty-two-inch waist, and I measure 38C at the bust.”

  It’s amazing what you could come up with when money was a motivating factor. I actually got wetter by the minute, feeding into the role play as the time ticked away. My body looked nothing like the way I described, but I went with what the customer might like, and it’s what seemed to work for him.

  “Do you understand you are mine?”

  Oh yeah, I understood. I was “his,” even if this was the one time I would speak to him tonight because he would never get a whiff of me…I was “his.”

  Until he began having conversations with the dial tone after I hung up.

  “Yes sir, I understand. I am yours.”

  “Then put your hand down your pants and play with your pussy.”

  I hesitated a moment and considered my options. By then, thoughts of Ramesses invaded my mind, and I heard his voice in my head, replacing the one in my ear. My legs slowly parted, and at my Daddy’s commands in my ear, I started playing with my clit. I got quiet for a minute, almost forgetting I was on the line with my wannabe domi-not.

  “Calypso,” he growled softly. “you are mine, period. Now put your hands down your pants and play with your pretty pussy.”

  I don’t think he understood what was going on, and I didn’t care. The only voice in my head was Daddy’s and my fingers worked their magic like they had other forces controlling them. My fingers felt the slick wetness as I slowly slipped into my own private mind fuck.

  “I want you to rub it very slowly in a circular motion,” he told me. I still ignored him, giving out some moans for his benefit, but playing the tune only my Goddess could understand. I felt the softness of my Goddess’ hand caressing my skin. He could have called me everything but a child of God and I would have cared less.

  I followed his “directions,” feeling the satin wetness of my now dripping lips. I let out a soft sigh. God, it felt so damn good.

  “Calypso, does it feel good?”

  “Mmmm-hmmm…”

 
“You will address me as SIR and speak with words and not sounds, Calypso. Does it feel good?”

  “Yes sir, it feels incredible, sir.” I rushed through the response. It didn’t matter what he said to me anymore; he was a pending footnote in the story of my growing orgasm. I was on automatic, taking out a dildo to feel something inside me to get me over the edge. I needed my husband to come home at that exact moment, so I could fuck his brains out.

  “That’s better, my dear. Do you think you can come for me, Calypso?”

  “Yes sir, I think I can come for you.”

  “Don’t, baby, enjoy it. Keep it on the edge.”

  “But sir…I want to come so badly.”

  “Calypso, we agreed you are mine, and as such, you will not come!!!!!!”

  “Yes sir,” I told him over the phone, but I hovered over my clit, enjoying the sensations, the energy that pulsated from it.

  “Calypso, what is your phone number?”

  “757-215-7731, sir.” I may have been in orgasmic bliss, but I was not stupid. My Goddess taught me well.

  “What city do you live in, Calypso?”

  “Norfolk, sir, I live in Norfolk, Virginia.”

  “Very good, now, stop.”

  Hell no, I wasn’t going to stop. My hands were working at a feverish pace by then, and I was just about to come when…

  “Calypso…”

  “Sir?”

  “I’ll be coming for you soon.” His tone chilled me. It wasn’t the “oh baby, I’m about to come” type of phrase, but something that stopped me in mid-stroke.

  Before I could respond, the line went dead.

  TWO NEFERTERRI

  “So, let Me get this straight, so I don’t have this mixed up. We’re going public with the Palace?”

  I looked into my husband’s eyes as we walked into the currently constructed home soon to replace the house we were in the process of renting out to family members.

  “No, babe, we’re not exactly going public; it’s more like, semi-public,” Ramesses answered, taking in the larger space we would soon be moving into. “There are some rules to this new idea I have. In fact, if it works, we may very well be duplicating this idea in different parts of the country.”

  I hated when he pulled the secrecy nonsense with me. Ever since Amenhotep left, my husband had been more engaged into the comings and goings within the Atlanta BDSM community, and that’s saying a lot, considering we were already “plugged in” to begin with. But then again, considering that we’re both entrepreneurs now, instead of working in Corporate America full time, some priorities could be readjusted and balances could be struck. During the day, since the kids were in school, it’s easy to get some marketing and other business conducted. I managed to talk both my mother and my mother-in-law into retiring from their jobs and share the responsibility of taking the kids to their respective extracurricular activities, for operating expenses and “mad money,” so to speak. They were more than happy to take retirement and use the money we were giving them to do with what they wanted.

  I got used to the idea of having a lot of businesses to handle. We had begun the process of opening a daycare center, a mail center, and we expanded my husband’s photography studio to include not only commercial work for his former apprentice, but to open the possibilities for doing fetish work also. Combine that with Liquid Paradise, and now the idea of turning the Palace into a “bondage ranch” type of compound started to get my juices flowing.

  There would definitely not be a dull moment, that’s for sure, and all of it had been bankrolled, thanks to Amenhotep wanting to make sure that His extended family was taken care of. Not to mention, making more money for Him. After all, He was a businessman above all else.

  The other idea I had to get used to was enjoying our submissives, without the time constraints that working a normal nine-to-five demanded. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed both our girls when they were in our care and charge. But there was something different about the interaction that sajira and I had. It felt deeper somehow, like we’d done this dance before some time ago, and I don’t mean a few years, either. All I knew was it was going to be an interesting ride, to say the least.

  Damian, on the other hand, was a little easier to figure out. With him, everything seemed to ebb and flow so smoothly between us, and he was definitely picking up on my patterns and tastes quite nicely, indeed.

  Despite all of the positive things that were happening, I really missed my shamise. She would really flourish in this new atmosphere.

  But for now, I needed a few answers from my husband regarding the plans for the Palace since that was the one business that I had the least amount of “hands on” direct contact with, just as he allowed me to run Liquid the way I saw fit while choosing to remain a silent partner. I trusted the decisions and vision, but I was a nosey bitch, so sue me.

  “So what are these new rules You had in mind?” I tried to refocus a little bit before my mind wandered to places I didn’t need to be at that exact moment.

  “Cell phones will be checked at the gate, and no cameras, for starters,” Ramesses stated, and I saw the gears turning in his mind, as if he were doing the usual mental checklist. “The security detail will tell the concierges of any messages that are left on the cell phones, and they will then pass the message to the member. Cell phones will be tagged with the member’s name, or pseudonym. Dom will head up the detail, as well as the security firm that I’m creating.”

  Did he say security firm? That detail wasn’t lost on me, but I didn’t expect him to head into that direction. “Wait a minute; what’s this talk about a security firm?”

  Ramesses smiled. “I’m planning on talking Dom into retirement.”

  “I’d love to be a fly on the wall of that conversation.” I tried to stifle a giggle, forcing myself to stay involved with the conversation instead, resisting the urge to make comedic remarks. “I thought he was all in with the force? Isn’t he a detective now?”

  Ramesses smirked before puffing out his cheeks, trying to resemble Marlon Brando in The Godfather. “I’m going to make him an offer he can’t refuse,” he stated as he mimicked the fictional Don Corleone. “But You shouldn’t worry about such things, Beloved. Before it’s over, I’ll have what I want.”

  I couldn’t stop laughing at his attempt to be theatrical as I started making my own to-do list in my head in case he missed anything. “What else?”

  “Rather than do any real advertising online or going through publications, we’re going to go back to word-of-mouth building of clientele. We can’t let it get too far out of hand, or we’ll end up with a faction we don’t want, and they’ll screw it up for the rest of us,” he continued. “I’m also thinking of setting up charter members and a council to handle legal issues and rules violations, etcetera. Of course, it would consist of a few of the regular members in its charter stage, and after the first year, elected council members will serve on the council. I was thinking of Mistress Sinsual, Mistress Blaze, Master Altar, and You and I, and one of the more trusted submissives to round out the six-member council. Also, having people in charge of the membership dues as well as executing penalties for violating nondisclosure agreements. If You name it, we need to have it executed. I want to make sure we have the bases covered so we don’t get burned.”

  “Okay, I’m with You so far, baby.” I continued scribbling away in shorthand, making other mental notes, thinking of the other things we need to do to duplicate a lot of the safeguards we had in place at Liquid. “Is there anything else? Are we keeping the operating hours for the weekend?”

  “Yes, and I want to hire kink-friendly people to work the weekends, at a worthwhile rate, of course. I was also thinking we could get with the bondage manufacturers to send reps in to sell their products, do product demos, with those members willing to do the demos in exchange for a discounted rate on their membership dues for the month.” He kept rattling the information off at a steady pace. I looked on as he continued as
sessing the details in his photographic memory. “The dues, I want to keep at a moderate rate, at least for now, because we don’t want to alienate anyone who might want to enjoy the Palace. But if membership starts to rise a bit, we’ll have to make a decision on crowd control. We don’t want this thing to get too big, to where we draw too much attention.”

  “But if we get too big, then what about extra accommodations at a hotel nearby or something like that? Perhaps we can negotiate a rate or something?” I asked. The way things were at the Palace right now, a small contingent could stay overnight. But what happened if the Palace couldn’t hold everyone that wanted to stay?

  “Well, Beloved, since we currently have a good three hundred acres to mess around with, I’ve been a bit busy with an expansion project to get things in motion.” Ramesses smirked. “Actually, to be correct, I have a few projects going on simultaneously out there right now. Once we’re done making sure this house is squared away, We can go by there so You can see what’s going on, if You’d like?”

  “Wait a minute; did You say expansion?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yes, darling, expansion.” He gave me a look that shut me down. I enjoyed being a Domina, but sometimes, that look kept me balanced, I swear. “I’ve already sent the plans out to Amenhotep, if You’re wondering, babe. I don’t do much without Him knowing about it, especially when it comes to His properties.”

  Actually, that wasn’t exactly what was on my mind, but Amenhotep was old school. One of the things about the Palace He liked was the fact that, despite its size, it was still somewhat humble and quaint in His eyes, and He also liked that it didn’t draw too much attention to itself, despite its ominous size. I was worried that perhaps the semi-publicity might be a little upsetting to Him.

  I decided to wait until we actually got to the Palace before I made any more assumptions. Besides, I might have liked what I saw and taken things to the next level myself.

  It was absolutely breathtaking…

  Seeing all the construction around the Palace was absolutely breathtaking, and yet overwhelming at the same time. I saw several buildings in a bed-and-breakfast-style architecture laid out in a strategic manner.