by E. Jay Lames
He stands, holding out his hand.
“Follow me.” He leads me down a corridor to large double doors. Taking a key out of his pocket he opens the first set of doors, leading us to a second set of doors. He regurgitates another key out of his mouth and uses that to open up those doors.
“I’ll tell you now, you can leave at any time. The helicopter is ready to fly you back.”
“Just open the door, Sebastian.”
He opens the doors and lets me in. I take in everything that’s before me.
Holy shittytitty.
The first thing I notice is that the term ‘playroom’ was possibly an ironic one; on account of the room being obviously used for violent sex.
Looking around through the soft lighting and the combination leather/beaten-flesh smell, I see a large mahogany cross against the wall with restraints and coffee cup holders on each of its corners. Hanging from a giant iron grid on the ceiling are all manner of ropes, chains, and shackles. Hanging on the wall are all sorts of whips, crossbows, spiked-clubs and cutesy-looking implements of death. Against the wall is a leather bench with a rack behind it holding various canes (uncandied, mind you). Next to the rack is an old-school Ms. Pac Man machine. Across the room is a long table in the opposite corner and two matching stools underneath. On top of that table is a lovely floral centerpiece with a celebratory balloon attached that reads, “Happy Dominating.”
But the true focal point of the room is the bed. Humongous, carved, it looks late nineteenth century, or Crate and Barrel. Under its canopy hang more shackles and chains and fishing lures. The mattress has only red leather sheets with satin cushions piled up. I notice the little tag you’re not supposed to remove was removed from the mattress.
Hanging across intervals of the ceiling are various rock climbing gear and harnesses. Against the back wall is a poster of U2.
I turn to Shade and he’s looking at me intently, waiting for my verbal reaction. I notice another feathery thing across the room. I walk over and touch it, it’s bushy and beaded and if you press a button it plays “Fur Elise.”
“It’s called a painmaker.” Sebastian’s voice is quiet and soft.
I think I’m in shock. I wait for my subconscious to chime in and make sense of this, but the italics are nowhere to be found. I’m frightened, but not of him oddly enough, and not of Ms. Pac Man, but of everything else in this room. How do you react when you find out a potential lover is a complete sado-masochist? So many questions in my mind. Why? How? When? Where? Who? What? Whither?
“Say something,” Sebastian demands.
“Burgermeat.”
“Something related to what’s going on now.”
“Um, do you do this to people or do they do it to you?”
“I do it to women who want me to.”
“If you have women who want to do it why am I here?”
“Because I really want to do this to you. I’m a Dominant. I want you to submit to me.”
“Why would I do that?”
“To please me. I want you to want to please me.”
The odd thing is, despite these beyond unfamiliar circumstances, I do. I do want to please Sebastian Shade. Bad.
“The more you submit,” he says, “the greater my joy.”
“And what do I get out of this?”
“Me.”
Hm, Melissa did tell me he was dangerous.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
Ah, well, I guess she was wrong.
“Come, let’s go over the stipulations,” he urges.
We walk out of the Red Room of Pain and into the Brown Room of Paperwork. He sits behind a desk, gesturing me to take a seat in front of him. He hands me a slip of paper:
RULES
Obedience:
The Submissive will obey any instruction given by the Dominant without hesitation or reservation and not without the express written consent of the NFL.
Sleep:
The Submissive will ensure she gets a minimum of eighteen (18) hours of sleep a night when she is not with the Dominant.
Food:
The Submissive will eat regularly to maintain her health and well-being, this includes having a complete balanced breakfast like the ones they show on the cereal commercials.
Clothes:
The Submissive will wear what the Dominant desires her to wear, and will accompany the Dominant on shopping trips to various mall outlets and Sunglass Huts.
Exercise:
The Dominant will provide the Submissive with rigorous Zumba sessions four times a week, and the Insanity workout twice a week.
Personal Hygiene:
The Submissive will keep herself shaven and/or waxed at all times. The Submissive will visit a beauty salon of the Dominant’s choosing, or one run by Koreans.
Personal Safety:
The Submissive will not drink to excess, smoke, take recreational drugs, watch The Maury Povich Show, or anything else that could put her in direct danger.
Personal Qualities:
The Submissive will not enter into any sexual relations with anyone other than the Dominant, especially that stupid photographer Ramiro. She will be held accountable for any misdeeds, wrong doings, and misbehavior committed when not in the presence of the Dominant.
Failure to comply with any of the above will result in immediate punishment, the nature of which shall be determined by the Dominant.
Jesus Mohammed Christ!
“There’s also your Hard Limits,” he says.
“Hard Limits?”
“These are mine.” He hands me another piece of paper:
HARD LIMITS
- No acts involving fireplay
- No acts involving urination, defecation, or earwax
- No acts involving needles, knives, piercing, or blood
- No TV on in the background, especially King of Queens reruns
- No acts involving children, animals, or a mutant hybrid of the two
- No acts that will leave permanent marks on the skin
- No acts involving breath control
- No acts involving electricity, fire, or cannons
No cannons. That makes sense.
“Is there anything you’d like to add?” he asks.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, when you’ve had sex, was there anything you didn’t like doing?”
“I…um…have never had sex. Ever.”
“You’re a virgin?” He seems outraged. “Why didn’t you fucking tell me??”
Yeah, he’s outraged.
I shrug. “I watched Friends With Benefits the whole way through once. Does that count?”
He sighs. He takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom.
“Alright, let’s just take care of this problem now.”
As we enter into his bedroom I’m quaking like a leaf. This is it. I’m finally gonna do it. And with Sebastian Shade, of all people.
“Do you want the blinds drawn?” The giant window looked out on the entire city of Sea-Apple.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Do you want the orchestra to leave?”
“Sure.”
The six-piece philharmonic in the corner of the bedroom stops serenading us. They pick up their instruments and leave the room.
Once we were alone he turned and looked at me. In the bare light his silhouette sang to me, made me quiver down there.
“Are you ready for what I’m about to do to you?”
“Is it sex?” I ask.
He comes over and gets me in his grasp. He nibbles on the bottom of my lip. Yep. It’s sex.
“I’ve been wanting to bite this lip,” he tells me. “You don’t know how bad.”
“Wew, heew id ith, baby,” I say. My speech is hindered by my inability to use the bottom lip he’s biting on.
He then begins undressing me, kissing me all over, every kiss and nibble on my skin takes me to another realm of pleasure. I feel the sensation reach all the way to my groinal area. This
is all new and wonderful. All I want is him. All I want is Shade.
He lays me down on the bed. I’m dripping with desire.
“Show me how you play with yourself,” he tells me.
“Do you have a deck of cards?”
“What?”
“Like Solitaire, you mean?”
“Chastity, have you ever come before?”
I shake my head.
“Well, let’s see what we can do about that.” He crawls over me onto the bed. He cups my breasts firmly. I tingle in my vagina land.
“They fit my hand perfectly.” He starts licking and biting my nipples elongating them. After one big bite my nipple shoots out and pokes him in the eye.
“Sorry.”
“You’re so receptive, Chastity,” he says softly, one eye closed in pain. He continues smooching my boobies. “Let’s see if I can make you come like—”
I come.
“Like…that,” he continues.
My body shakes with orgasm. So, this is what it feels like. This is way better than how my grandmother described it to me as a kid.
“Now, I’m going to enter you, Chastity.” Shade pulls down his pants. The size of his erect penis startles me at first. How will it fit?
The penis-hole winks at me.
“I’m going to go in easy, baby.”
I’m helpless to him. All I want is for Sebastian Shade to put his dingus in me.
As he hovers over me and inserts the head, I shake. He holds it still as my sex gets used to something being inside of it, besides a douchebag hose.
He’s so big. It fills me up completely. He begins slowly thrusting and I’m completely overwhelmed with a combination of pain, pleasure, and excitement.
“Oh, Chastity. You’re all mine.”
His thrusts turn into pumps and his speed picks up. I feel him tighten his grip as he explodes in me. I feel him empty into my cooch canal.
There’s a silent moment of heavy breathing. He kisses my forehead. As he pulls out of me, I wince. He lays next to me and pokes his finger in my nose, saying, “Boop.”
I’m sore and my body is jelly. I’m completely melted into the bed. That was—oh my—indescribable.
“I’m going to take you from behind now, Chastity.”
“Um, sure—”
Before I can finish answering, I feel his enormous enormity slip back inside me. He’s pinned me down in his grasp and I can’t move. I don’t want to move. I want him to totally dominate me.
He starts fucking me again. Sebastian Shade fucking me. I can’t believe it, I almost want him to autograph the used condom.
I lose track of how long we are having sex. I’m completely immersed in how effectively he’s doing me. I climax eighteen times during intercourse.
“Chastity, I’m going to come,” he whispers into my ear.
“Go for it, buddy,” I whisper back.
Once again he explodes inside my love hole. Oh my god. I feel him wilt against me. There’s no better feeling in the world. We lay next to each other in post-coital serenity. Suddenly, we’re interrupted by voices outside the room:
“Mrs. Shade, he’s still in bed.”
“My son is never in bed this late. Is he sick? Let me see him.”
“Mrs. Shade…he’s with someone.”
“Oh.”
Shade jumps out of bed. “Oh, shit. My mom’s here.”
“W-what? What time is it?” I glance out the window. It’s daylight. We’ve been having sex for like ten hours. Man, time flies when you’re getting deflowered.
Shade is throwing on clothes.
“Hurry up, get dressed. You’re meeting my mom.”
“I can’t meet her like this.”
“Just throw on some clothes. You look great, she won’t care.”
Shade leaves the room. I get up and get dressed. I look at the bedsheet. A bloodstain where my vagina was positioned. It’s official. My virginity is gone. I blow a soft kiss to the bloodstain. Bye-bye virginity.
I go outside and see Shade out on the couch, a sandy-haired middle-aged woman sitting next to him. She turns to me and smiles.
“You must be Chastity.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“This is Dr. Margaret Evening-Shade,” Sebastian introduces.
“Call me Margaret, sweetie.”
Meeting this woman might help me figure him out a little. I hold a magnifying glass up to her. Hm. No clues. Except that I can now tell she waxes her upper lip.
“So, how did you two meet?” she asks.
“Chastity interviewed me for WSU’s student paper. I’m conferring their degrees this week.”
“So, you’re graduating this week,” Dr. Evening-Shade asks me.
“Yep.”
“Great.” She turns to Shade, “I haven’t seen you for two weeks. Windsor told me you were around. I thought we’d have grimble together, but I see you have plans already.”
“What’s grimble?” I ask.
“Oh, it’s a secret meal between lunch and dinner that only the super wealthy know about,” Shade explains to me.
“Ah.”
“Well, I better get going,” she continues. “Some other time, darling. Chastity, it was a pleasure to meet you.”
“Same here, Dr. Evening-Shade.”
“Call me Nancy, dear.”
“Okay.”
I thought her name was Margaret.
Cheryl enters and escorts Dr. Evening-Shade out.
After she leaves, Shade hands me a manila envelope.
“Here’s the rest of the contract. Read it and we’ll meet next weekend. I suggest doing some research on the Internet.”
“Internet?”
“Yeah, the World Wide Web.”
“The Whaz-a-hoozle?”
“On your computer.”
“I don’t have a computer.”
“But, you’re a college student in modern day America—”
I shush him. “Please, let’s not focus on this story’s logical missteps.”
He thinks about it. “You’re right. Let’s just go with it. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
CHAPTER SIX
“So, how was it last night?” Melissa asks me.
“Good.”
“Did he make you come?”
Whoa. She’s so blunt. Her name should be, er, Emily Blunt. Sorry, that was bad. What do you want, it was a long night.
“Yes,” I murmur.
“Wow, he must know what he’s doing. My first time was horrid.”
“Oh?” This has me interested.
“Yes. Mikey Santone. High School. Some jock. We got drunk, he wore his varsity football jacket while we did it. All his teammates were watching. It was bad.”
“That sounds awful.”
“Yeah, well...they won the state championship later that day, so I felt like I did my part. Oh, here’s some letters for you.”
I open them. Two interviews, both at major publishing houses.
“That’s amazing,” Melissa tells me. “I told you. Also, this package came.”
Another parcel with no return address. Shade. I open it. It’s a brand new laptop computer. This must have cost him millions.
“Welcome to the twenty-first century,” Melissa adds. “When are you seeing him again?”
“We’re supposed to have dinner Wednesday.”
“And then more sexy time?” Melissa naughtily asks.
I think of the Red Room of Pain, the contract, and ghost Ray Charles.
“Something like that.”
I begin setting up my laptop. The whole time I’m thinking of Shade. So complicated. Now I have some insight, though. On the ride back he told me how he lost his virginity to one of his mom’s friends when he was fifteen. Forced upon him. Kinda like that old lady that seduced Dustin Hoffman—what was her name? Jon Voight?
In fact, he was the Submissive and she was the Dominant. To be a teenage boy having sex with an eager older woman. I can’t imagine the hell.
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I take out the contract again and look at it:
CONTRACT
Made this day ______ of 2012 (“The Commencement Date”)
Between:
Mr. Sebastian Shade of 103 Alacse St., Seattle, WA 98889 (“The Dominant”)
Miss Chastity Stool of 111111114 SW Brown St, Apt. 7, Somehwere, WA 98875 (“The Submissive”)
The Parties Agree As Follows:
The following are the terms of a binding contract between the Dominant and the Submissive:
FUNDAMENTAL TERMS.
1. The fundamental purpose of this contract is to allow the Submissive to explore her sensuality and her limits safely, with respect and regards for her needs, her limits, her well-being, and her tiny vaginey.
2. The Dominant and Submissive agree and acknowledge that all that occurs under the terms of this contract will be consensual, confidential, and subject to the agreed limit—
Blahblahblah. I couldn’t even go on reading it, it was so boring. Not like “Jane Eyre” at all. Then I stopped to think about what I was actually doing here. In the last forty-eight hours I got drunk for the first time, lost my virginity, and was offered a contract by a bazillionaire to be his sex slave. Everyone usually gets all that over with in their teens. I guess I’m a late bloomer.
I skip forward a little:
APPENDIX 3:
Soft Limits
Does the Submissive consent to:
Masturbation
Cunnilingus
Fun-nilingus
Swallowing semen
Gargling, then swallowing semen
Vaginal Interfisting
Doing it in the poop-chute
Sudoku
Does the Submissive consent to:
Vibrators
Butt plugs
Dildos
Musical dildos
Rosary beads
Other vaginal/anal toys
My head is spinning. I almost feel nauseous. I somehow continue:
Does the Submissive consent to:
Bondage with rope
