Black Widow (Duet)

by Lena Austin

  Sadie shook a wooden spoon at Kelly. “Mistress, you just calm yourself. Someone is going to think you’re acting like a subbie. Get hold of yourself, right now.”

  Kelly stopped, looked at Sadie, and threw back her shoulders. “You’re right, Sadie. For gosh sake, Calder is just a man.” She rolled her eyes. “But oh, what a man!”

  Sadie’s eyes softened. “You’d best be careful. Your heart is going to land at that man’s feet unless you lock it up tight.” She transferred the spoon to her other hand and poked her shorter Mistress playfully on the nose, causing them both to grin like cats about to share a saucer of cream. “Chocolate cake baked by your own two hands is bad enough for one night.”

  Kelly gave her infamous raised eyebrow. “You know what they say, Sadie. The way to a man’s heart and all that.”

  Sadie turned to stir the gravy. “But do you want his heart?”

  Kelly paused in digging through the drawer for a cake knife. Her hand trembled for a moment, and she willed it to steady. “I guess I do.”

  Sadie checked the roast before answering. “Then you’d better be willing to risk your own, Mistress.”

  “Oh, dump the Mistress thing for a minute. Let’s be women. I think I have a problem.”

  Sadie closed the oven door on the savory smells inside and straightened. In the subtle ways of subs, she took off her collar without removing it. “Then you listen up, Missy. That man may be gorgeous, but he’s a Dom waiting to happen. Hell, he makes me want to hit my knees, and I am not his by any stretch.”

  “Me, too,” Kelly muttered.

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “I don’t know.” For the first time ever, Kelly was indecisive about her role with a man. It was very disconcerting.

  “Well, you better think about it quick,” Sadie advised. “I’m pretty sure you’re on tonight’s menu as dessert. He’s that kind.”

  Kelly smiled in anticipation. “You know, Sadie, I just might let him. After all, what better way to know if he really is Dom material? I can handle myself.” Her mind made up, Kelly nodded, and then went back to her guest.

  “Oh, you are sunk, honey,” Sadie muttered as Kelly left the kitchen.

  Kelly pretended not to hear Sadie’s comment, but she purposely did not hurry as she made her way through the butler’s pantry, the dining room, and across the foyer to the living room.

  Maybe she was being an idiot. She hardly knew Calder, but something about him said she could trust him. And she knew what the possibilities were tonight. She was going in with her eyes wide open. Every safety precaution would be in place. The sensuality of food was sure to be a good indication of how Calder might play, if he were taught. In the meantime, it was worth it to her to eat at home, and get to mess about in a kitchen again. She was tired of restaurants.

  * * *

  Calder leaned back in the comfortable dining room chair with a satisfied smile. Pot roast, mashed potatoes and gravy, steamed veggies, and biscuits now comfortably lined his stomach.

  Kelly was out of the room, having promised to see to dessert. He belched quietly in hopes of making room for the cake she’d promised.

  What was more, he’d had more fun tonight with Kelly than he’d ever had at a dinner table. They’d talked about everything under the sun from the latest movies to world politics. Mostly they’d agreed, but even when they hadn’t, they had discussed their differences with companionable humor.

  Why couldn’t he have met Kelly in any other situation? He could take her out on a “real date,” even if it meant dipping into his precious savings. Maybe he’d splurge and spend some of his pay from the magazine article. It would be worth eating beans for a week.

  The dining room doors slid open, and Calder’s eyes were riveted on the big chocolate cake atop a fancy glass pedestal Kelly carried. Behind her, Sadie followed with a silver coffee service on a tray.

  “Chocolate cake and coffee? My stomach is going to think I died and went to paradise,” he commented with reverence.

  Kelly smiled, but the gleam in Sadie’s eyes caught his attention. She winked at him behind Kelly’s back, and then departed silently. What was that all about?

  Calder’s eyes lit up at the size of the cake slice delivered to him by Kelly herself. Then the significance hit him. Kelly was serving him. Was this a hint?

  He was learning how subtle the art of Dominance and submission was. Even the spelling. Dominance was always capitalized, submission always lower-case. Maybe he needed to ask Kelly if he was right.

  Calder forked a large bite to his lips and thought he’d die. The chocolate melted on his tongue and made his taste buds dance in ecstasy. He moaned aloud.

  Kelly, looking relieved, began to eat her much smaller slice.

  Calder cleared his throat. “Mind if I ask some of those million questions you predicted I’d have?” He grinned and nodded at her smaller slice. “Then I have an excuse to make a pig of myself while you take your time eating that little sliver and answering my questions.”

  With a small chuckle, Kelly gestured with her fork. “Go ahead, gorgeous.”

  “That’s my line.” Calder speared another piece. “I’ve noticed that Dominance and submission have a lot of subtle cues. Am I reading it right?”

  One of his professors had lit up the same way once that Kelly did now. The professor had given him an “A.” Kelly leapt up and planted a kiss on him that rocked him backwards. Whatever he’d done right, he hoped he could do it again.

  “Calder, you’re so fucking brilliant, it amazes me.” Kelly regained her composure and sat back down. “Yes, the cues are subtle. They are part convention, and part long-term relationship. For instance, many of the same gestures you might associate with animal training can be used to convey a silent command.” She made a motion with her hand, palm to the floor. Calder had seen it many times with the canine teams. “Only in this case, instead of the command for ‘sit,’ it means ‘kneel and await further instruction.’”

  “I can see that, Kelly, but it goes deeper than that. Sadie told me she could tell I was a Dom. And I knew, without knowing how I knew, she was a sub even before I saw the collar.” Calder pondered while he stuffed another forkful of cake in his mouth.

  “Very true, Calder. That’s body language. Even were you to be naked in a room full of subs, your body language says, ‘I am a Dom.’ You hold your head high, you stride confidently when you walk, and you look people in the eye and assess them. Subs tell you they are submissive.” She gave a wry smile. “Rapists and other criminals use the same subtle cues to choose their victims. Surely you’ve read that.”

  He’d more than read it; he’d seen the awful reality. And he’d seen what happened when the downtrodden snapped like dry twigs. He cleared his throat. “I see. Do subs ever turn Dominant, or vice-versa?”

  Kelly laughed. “Damn, you’re good! Yes. Those who can vacillate depending on circumstance and mood are called switches. And every good Dominant has learned to submit, so that they might intimately know what it is like.”

  The implications hit Calder like a club. His jaw dropped. “You mean you, at one time, submitted?”

  The gaiety of Kelly’s laughter was infectious. “Of course I did, silly. And I was very good at it, too. Denny was a good master and a good trainer of subs. He even trained male subs well, and that’s rare.”

  Her husband. Right… wait. “Males? He trained males?”

  Now Kelly looked disappointed. “Oh, Calder! Don’t tell me you fell for that stereotype that Dominants must have sex with their subs? It’s about trust, not sex.” She shook her fork at him. “Denny didn’t touch me until after I graduated to Dominant. And then he had to convince me to marry him.” She sobered. “And I’ll spare you the math. I started subbing at twenty-one, and married Denny at twenty-four. We were married slightly less than five years.”

  Instantly, Calder felt guilty. “Hey, I’m sorry to have brought up old hurts. Tell me some more about subbing.”

/>   “It’s okay, gorgeous. Um… let’s see. How about I tell you a Dominant’s game that’s done with subs? It might amuse you.”

  “Like chess with live pieces?” Calder ventured.

  “No, though that’s done. This is done in a restaurant, one with tablecloths. Or, it might be done in a private home if the table is large enough, like this one.” She gestured to the large dining table they were seated at. It looked like it could hold eight people without the leaves.

  Calder nodded. He could almost imagine the leather-clad people sitting at the table.

  “Imagine all the elegant diners, enjoying wine and good food, with their own naked submissive each seeing to the needs of Master or Mistress. In case you’re wondering, the subs have already been fed in the kitchen.”

  Kelly’s voice lowered. Calder shut his eyes to envision it all. “The game begins. Each sub crawls under the table, to kneel at the feet of their Dominant. This is a game of sex, and all the subs are also the lovers of their Dominant, by the way.”

  “Isn’t that against the rules you just said?”

  “It happens. You can’t exchange trust with someone over a long period of time without great affection developing, even love. It is not advisable, in many cases, but it happens. Sometimes lifelong bonds are formed.”

  “Okay, sorry. Just seemed like a contradiction.”

  “Yes, it does. Having been professional, I personally would have stepped from a quasi-legal service into the ugly world of prostitution. That’s a line I never crossed. And it is inadvisable for any Dominant to cross that line. What if you and your lover have a fight right after a scene?”

  “Oh, ouch.” He could see that all too clearly. Assault and battery, sexual assault, and a very unsympathetic legal system would be just the beginning. Not a pleasant subject. “Okay, back to the game.”

  “Close your eyes and imagine, Calder.” Calder shut his eyes, but not before he caught a glimpse of Kelly picking up the knife and cutting a generous slice of cake. What was she going to do with that?

  Kelly’s soft voice, with that hint of Southern drawl, continued. “The subs are under the table. This game works best when it is all male Masters, so let’s assume all are male at the table. All the subs are female. The conversation centers on commonplace, non-sexual topics. The game is simple. The first to show what is happening under the table loses. This is a game of self-control.”

  Calder heard a small scrape, and ventured a peek. Kelly had pushed back her chair, and was disappearing under the table. He had a feeling what that evil smile and the plate of cake in her hand were about. He grinned, and shut his eyes, ignoring the fact that Kelly’s voice now came from under the table.

  “Pants are unzipped, cocks are freed. The Masters continue their conversation.”

  Calder felt his fly being unzipped, carefully and slowly. He pretended not to notice. Just like the game. He would be Master, tonight. He stabbed another piece of cake, and pretended not to notice Kelly freeing his cock from his pants.

  Something cool was smeared on his semi-hard penis. Ah, so that’s what the cake was for -- the icing.

  Amusement now tinged Kelly’s voice. “Remember the rules. No Master may indicate what is happening, and the subs must try their hardest to earn their reward.”

  Calder felt warm lips encase the head of his cock. He would have a hard time without the benefit of conversation. On cue, it seemed, Sadie stepped into the dining room to clean up.

  Sadie took one look at Kelly’s empty chair, and raised an eyebrow at Calder. He pretended bland innocence and gave her a cheerful, “Thank you, Sadie. Delicious meal.”

  Sadie’s lips twitched. “Why, thank you, Master.” With twinkling eyes, she gathered up a few dishes. With her free hand, she pointed beneath the table with a questioning look.

  Calder nodded. It was getting difficult to maintain a casual air, with Kelly enthusiastically cleaning all the icing off his now rock-hard cock.

  Sadie gathered up the remaining dishes, leaving just the coffee carafe and cake. Winking at Calder, she sauntered back the way she’d come.

  Relaxing, Calder took his coffee cup and sipped. He spread his legs a little wider, and fisted his free hand in Kelly’s hair. “Continue, lovely one,” he murmured.

  “Yes, Master.”

  * * *

  Calder couldn’t believe what was happening. Kelly, the infamous Black Widow, had “switched.” Was that the term? He would Dominate tonight, and he hadn’t a clue what to do other than enjoy.

  Then it hit him. Yes, he did. She’d shown him. The song “Life’s a Dance” ran through his head. How appropriate to hear someone singing about leading and following, and learning as you go. He’d do everything she had done to him, plus a few of his own ideas. Whatever he could manage.

  And hadn’t she said the subs tell you what works for them? If he didn’t know, he could test it on himself first.

  In the meantime, Kelly’s little mouth was driving him wild. She’d gotten through the smear of frosting and was now very busily proving she could suck the chrome from her motorcycle. He ordered his mind to concentrate on anything but the way her tongue lavished the underside of his cock and its head at the top of a stroke before plunging back down. Ordinarily, Calder might have stopped her before he came. But the time it would take him to recover afterward would be the perfect opportunity to try out some of her techniques on her very willing person.

  Kelly tugged on his pants. “Please, Master?” she begged.

  Calder felt like obliging, and stood long enough to drop his pants, revealing he had gone commando in hopes of an evening of mutual enjoyment. Kelly crawled out from the table and attacked his cock with an enthusiasm unmatched by any previous woman he’d ever had.

  The braid she wore made a perfect handle. Calder reached down and grabbed it, using it instead of her bangs as he had earlier. He began to thrust, fucking her mouth as a prelude of what was in store later.

  His balls tightened, signaling impending release. Calder closed his eyes to let it happen. Kelly’s fingers found the spot at the base of his balls and began to stroke in time with his thrusts. It was too much, and he growled softly as he shot into her receptive mouth.

  Calder felt like he was emptying his soul. Something primal was coming to the forefront, while Kelly licked and sucked every drop from his willing body. Now he understood, if perhaps dimly, the full concept of the power exchange. Each gave and each took, trusting in their partner not to do damage.

  When the orgasm edged close to pain, he tugged gently on Kelly’s braid. “Stop.”

  Kelly released his overspent penis and it fell, nearly flaccid, like a marathon runner too exhausted to move. Her big blue eyes lifted with a satisfied twinkle, and she licked her lips and smiled. “Yes, Master.”

  That smile was an invitation to further improprieties, if ever Calder saw one. “I’d throw you on the table and have you right here, but I don’t want to upset Sadie.”

  “Sadie has gone home, Master. She was to bring in the coffee, remove the dishes and load the dishwasher, and leave out the back door.”

  “Now that you mention it, I hear the dishwasher running. Good!” Calder reached down and picked Kelly up by her arms. He let her toes dangle just off the floor for a moment before planting her butt on the edge of the table away from the end where they had eaten. “Down!” he commanded.

  Kelly obediently laid back, her grin never wavering. Calder stripped off her jeans with expert ease, and found her commando, too. “Delightful!” In a flash of inspiration, he flipped up her tee shirt, exposing her breasts, yet covering her face. Kelly giggled, so he knew he was okay.

  Improvise, improvise. Calder looked around the dining room and spotted one of the unused napkins conveniently near Kelly’s head. He snatched it up, and looped it around her palms so that both hands held it in an improvised bond, just as he’d held the ropes the night before.

  “By the rules of the game, beautiful,” he told his lovely captive.
<
br />   “Oh, yes, Master!” she breathed.

  Calder scooped up a large finger full of cake icing. He regretted ruining the symmetry of the frosting job but counted it a small cost. If Kelly let him take it home later, he’d make sure he destroyed the evidence.

  He liberally anointed each pebbled nipple with a generous amount of frosting, eliciting a gasp and squirm. The squirm worried him, so he whispered, “Drop the napkin if I do something you don’t like.”

  “Not bloody likely, gorgeous!” came the muffled reply from under the shirt.

  Chuckling, he kissed the bump that probably was her pert little nose before feasting on frosting and the nipple beneath. His left hand lifted the breast to a soft mound in his palm while his right crept down to tickle her navel.

  Kelly alternated between giggles and gasps of what he hoped were pleasure while his tongue made sure to get every molecule of frosting. Only when he switched to clean the other chocolate covered nipple did the gasps become more frequent, probably because his right hand had moved lower to find a ripe clit to tickle.

  By the time the second nipple was clean, his cock stood at rigid attention again. He silently admonished it for its impatience, but didn’t resist the need. Calder pulled Kelly’s squirming and ready body to the edge of the table, and put the head of his cock right at her drenched opening.

  Kelly spread her legs widely, and begged, “Oh, please! Please!”

  Calder was more than happy to oblige the request, and slid home with a groan. Without further ado, he began to pound her soft flesh, taking all he wanted, all she begged for.

  * * *

  Kelly was in heaven. Calder had made the switch like an old pro, catching on to her game plan with perfect aplomb. Not even Sadie’s sudden appearance had thrown him.

  And what a Dom he was! He’d improvised beautifully, with imagination many couldn’t match. Most men would have stopped her before she was done sucking him blind, thrown her over their shoulder, and headed downstairs, without creativity.