Ménage à Tess (The Tess Series)

by Tessa Wanton

  “Let’s go and spend an afternoon with some good friends of mine, then, eh, Johnny? Don’t look so nervous, I won’t be pimping you out.” He clapped the boy on the shoulder, making him jump out of his skin. This was perhaps going to be a tougher task than he’d envisaged.

  “Follow me.” The command seemed only natural now. Charles was a teacher once more, just not to a female submissive. Instead? A male Dominant in waiting, although he considered that the whole premise at present was not looking good. He had worked miracles before, though, and if the pupil was sufficiently willing, he may well be able to pull the whole thing off, after all. Pressing the buzzer marked ‘Recording Studio’, the intercom crackled to life.

  “Hello?” a soft voice inquired.

  “Hello, my dear! Mr. Black and friend for the two o’clock appointment. I believe Elisha is expecting us?” Flashing a smile at the bundle of nerves standing next to him, he awaited the click of the door release so that they could enter. He had in fact only been here once before when he was appraising the building for conversion, hence how he’d met Elisha. Not that he had a sixth sense or anything like that, but he was good at reading people, and he sensed a certain bend toward the lifestyle within her. After a little more digging about her business plan and taking a look at the architect drawings, it became clear that a conversion to an intimate ‘cinema and sound-proofed rehearsal studios with adjoining sound recording spaces’ simply didn’t add up. It turned out instead that it was going to be an exclusive members club for couples who enjoyed the exhibitionist side of life along with the voyeurs who appreciated such things. A perfect introduction for Johnny, as he wouldn’t have to raise a finger, and yet Charles could keep an eye on him to make sure all was well. They could talk freely, and watch whatever show their chosen couple decided they wished to play out.

  Finally hearing the click, Charles pulled the door open and ushered Johnny inside.

  “Top floor for the lift, if you’d be so kind,” Charles said to the attendant and walked with Johnny through the lobby to the lift.

  “So here we are. The start of your training. You won’t be expected to do anything today other than watch and learn. Ask as many questions as you want, as that’s why you’re here. And more than anything, I’m not looking to overwhelm you. If at any point you want out, the door is open. So you can relax now, eh?”

  Casting a sideways glance to check how his words had been received, he noted that the tension had left Johnny a little now. Better, he thought, as the lift finally arrived and they both stepped in. Truth be known, he was feeling a tad nervous too.

  The swift journey to the top floor was in a somewhat awkward silence, but then there was little that could be said for the moment. Charles knew there would eventually be questions. How could there not be? Smiling once more at Johnny, he felt the rising anticipation of his nerves change swiftly into excitement. As soon as the lift stopped, he calmly strode the few steps across the small impeccably clean marble hallway to the door marked ‘Bloomsbury Studios—recording suite’. He didn’t bother to check that Johnny had followed him. He knocked once and the door opened.

  “Ah, Elisha! You look delicious, darling. How the devil are you doing?” Charles looked up at the six-foot tall brunette. She was an imposing figure at the best of times—lithe, but well built. She was dressed in a very smart dark blue pinstriped suit with matching knee-length skirt. Every inch the businesswoman, none would have suspected what she was host to within this building. In fact the ground floor was an office suite and kitchens for the complex above. An innocent guise, and a clever one, at that. She raised her chin and regarded the two men.

  “Charles, ever the smooth talker.” Turning to Johnny, she held out her hand and inclined her head, turning on an infectious smile. “And you must be Johnny. I daresay Charles has omitted to tell you most things about this place. He does have a flair for the dramatic. But don’t worry. You’re safe here. If you need anything, just let me know.” Grinning wolfishly, Charles watched as Johnny took her hand and shook it, returning her smile and mumbling a quiet “Thank you.”

  “Enough with the pleasantries, you two, let’s get started.” He clapped his hands to emphasize his point. Elisha turned and walked down the dark corridor, reciting her spiel about what delights the club had to offer, indicating the location of the restrooms, showers and changing rooms, fire exits, refreshments, eventually pausing outside a heavy looking wooden door.

  “So this is the part of the tour where I show you to your room.” Turning the elegantly crafted doorknob, she swung the door open wide. Inside, there were a number of comfortable chairs, coffee tables, and a serving station against one wall with a jug of iced water, some serviettes and a vase of expensive looking deep red roses to match the heavy velvet drapes. Definitely classier than Charles had imagined. Walking through into the room, he selected a large armchair and seated himself, gesturing for Johnny to sit on the sofa next to him.

  “I’ll take your drink orders now, gentlemen, but whenever you’re ready, your show is about to begin. I’ll leave the drinks on the side table for you when I return so that I don’t interrupt your entertainment.” After ordering a large whiskey for himself and watching Johnny struggle to decide on a beer, Elisha left the room quietly. As the door shut behind her, it became evident how dark the room was, and Charles figured that it was about time to shed light on what his pupil was now about to experience.

  “This place is a special club where voyeurs and exhibitionists come to assist each other with their specific proclivities. The couples that come to be watched are mostly in dedicated long-term relationships. And the voyeurs? Well, like you and me, are here to learn, to enjoy, and more importantly, are all carefully screened by my friend Elisha we met back there. This is no seedy den of iniquity and it is most definitely not a brothel. So before you start worrying that we’re doing anything illegal, we’re not. We’re just enjoying a drink on a licensed property and watching a loving couple do what they do best. Right?”

  Charles studied Johnny for a reaction. Any reaction. He returned a blank stare. God, this boy could hide his feelings—but perhaps when things started in earnest he would understand. He continued.

  “This afternoon I have requested a bisexual couple. Two ladies, to be precise. Their husbands are at work, and so they come here and indulge in each other. Yes, their husbands know about it all. In fact they’re the ones paying for the ladies to enjoy themselves. I’m told when all four of them get together it’s quite something to see, but for the purposes of today, I thought I’d break you in gently.” Rising and walking to the curtained wall, he pulled back the heavy drapes and revealed another room behind a huge floor-to-ceiling glass window.

  “We will watch them in there. They can see our outlines in here, but they don’t see enough of us to recognize us. Apparently that’s a preference they like, something about mystery and the excitement of not knowing who they might bump into on the street who knows their secret. Each to their own I suppose, but it serves our purpose. Anyway, we can hear them, they can’t hear us. All okay with you then, Johnny, boy? Shall I get them to send the ladies in?”

  Not waiting for Johnny’s response, Charles sauntered over to the side board and pressed the intercom button.

  “Ready when the ladies are, Elisha.” He noted with a certain satisfaction that their drinks were already there waiting. Discreet service was definitely their raison d’être. Returning to his seat and handing Johnny his drink, he reveled in the electricity lighting his senses, sharpening them, readying him for what was coming next as he watched the door in the other room open and their ladies enter.

  Chapter Eight

  Johnny was pretty much dumbstruck. Completely out of his depth and feeling very much like an alien in this new world. He’d just let Charles’ words of tuition wash over him, hardly acknowledging him besides a nod or a simple ‘yes’. There wasn’t anything he could sensibly respond with; he was the pupil, and he was to be expected to become a dominan
t. A man who beats the love of his life because she likes it. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to reconcile that, despite the reassurances of the old man and Tess that there was much more to it than that.

  The relief he felt when Charles had said they weren’t expected to join in was immense. He thought he could kiss him right there and then—perhaps the old man did care about how Johnny felt after all. Not to mention he wouldn’t have to see a man carrying out the scene. He wasn’t homophobic by any long chalk, but his preference to watching definitely extended to two women instead of two men or a male and female couple. His awkwardness was starting to fade now, and as he watched the two ladies walk into the other room, he considered he may actually enjoy this afternoon. They were of a similar height. Not thin ladies, but fuller-figured, he’d guess, not too dissimilar to Tess. Probably had children at some point, and certainly not ashamed of their bodies. And neither should they be; the sight of them was certainly arousing him more than he felt it should.

  “I suppose I should thank you, really, Charles. I mean, you’ve kept her safe, you’ve given her what she’s always wanted…more than I’ve given her to date, for sure.” He kept his eyes fixed on the women next door. He didn’t really like thanking the old man for anything, but it was only right.

  “No thanks necessary, Johnny, really. It’s my duty to keep her safe. In fact, that’s a good place to start. Being a Dom has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with caring for another. Making sure they’re safe. You hold their life in your hands. Without the exchange of trust between them and you, you have nothing.” Johnny looked over at Charles as a slight movement caught his eye. He was tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair. The intensity to which he was paying attention to the two ladies was quite something; Johnny doubted much would miss those hawk-like, steel flecked eyes.

  The women had put their bags on the side table and were enjoying a very intimate embrace in front of the huge window. They’d obviously changed before entering the room as what they were wearing was not much more than a babydoll and matching lingerie sets, suspenders, stockings, high heels—the lot. It was like some sort of perfect dream. But he guessed that was the point.

  “These two have a rather interesting Dom/sub relationship. They do something that is called ‘switching’. Sometimes, one feels like being Dominant and the other submissive, and vice versa. It’s all about the power exchange and emotional flow of the moment. Not sure who’s doing what today, but no doubt we’ll find out shortly.”

  This was a new concept to him. Johnny had thought that once someone had been designated one way or another, that was it. He’d guessed he was the Dom because his Tess certainly didn’t fit the Dominatrix stereotype, but then, looking at the two women in the other room, they didn’t typically fit the bill either.

  Their kisses were sensual, their soft bodies explored by perfectly manicured hands. It was almost hypnotic to watch, and after a few minutes of silence between them, Charles spoke again.

  “There. Did you see that? Looks like the blonde is taking charge today.” Charles had turned to him and was grinning from ear to ear, certainly pleased within himself for spotting the dynamic change. Johnny looked back, confused.

  “Look. She’s slid her hand into the raven girl’s hair and is pulling imperceptibly. Raven girl has pulled away from the kiss and is allowing Blondie to make the moves. Subtle, but…obvious now. Look closer…”

  Johnny leaned forward in his seat and concentrated on the activity. Yes…could he see? Blondie had dropped her hand to Raven’s breast and was rolling her nipple through the thin lace babydoll. The sound that escaped her throat caught Johnny by surprise and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He couldn’t deny that he was enjoying himself. It didn’t feel so much like he was being perverted in any way, as he was learning from the experience, studying the psychological interplay between two people. Yes. That was it. He focused on that thought.

  As he watched, Blondie led Raven over to the center of the room where she reached up and pulled down a chain with a big ring on the end. She kissed Raven once more, turned away momentarily, and came back with what looked like a big, hard leather mitten. Raven slipped both hands into it, and Blondie tightened up the buckles so she was unable to move her hands or grasp anything. Blondie moved to the side of the room where she pulled on another chain. Raven’s arms were pulled above her head until she was on tiptoes, even in her high heels. Her muscles strained and stretched as she tried to keep her balance and remain comfortable.

  “What’s the safeword?” Blondie called out in a commanding voice. Her words cut through his fascinated reverie; they seemed starkly out of contrast with the sensual scene taking place before them. Turning to Charles, he tried to find the words to ask further, but Charles had already sensed his anticipation.

  “It’s her ‘get-out’ clause. Some couples do not use a safeword, but this is only done when there’s an intense connection. It’s a dangerous thing to go without a safeword. Something I wouldn’t recommend. When playing with anyone, you must always ensure that they are aware of their safeword before you start, and this also reminds you what it is, so that you don’t miss it if it’s called.” Charles dropped his eyes from Johnny’s face in a manner that seemed strange to him. He pressed his lips into a line, almost like he was suppressing something. Turning the full force of his stare onto Johnny once more, he continued.

  “The whole point of this scene is mutual satisfaction. One gains ultimate pleasure by giving up their entire control to the other. The other gains their pleasure by completely controlling the other. Neither can be attained without a mutual agreement between them. Understand? It must be safe, sane, and consensual. Sounds sensible, doesn’t it? But it’s amazing how people can forget such basics. There are many acronyms out there, like I just mentioned, that one’s SSC, and now some prefer RACK—Risk Aware Consensual Kink. Same thing, in my eyes. It all boils down to the fact that what we do here, what others do, is dangerous.” He was speaking more seriously than Johnny had ever heard before. Charles looked grave almost, and it surprised him. He always seemed so flippant and superior. What the old man was telling him now was clearly important to him, and whilst he was still closely watching the girls in the next room, it was obvious that this conversation was the forefront of his mind.

  “There’s always a risk something can happen. In some cases, that’s what turns people on. The danger and fear of it. So you have to be aware. Minimize the danger and play sensibly. You’re an intelligent man, Johnny. I know you get this. People can be hurt, and worse, die by your hands, in ways you can’t possibly imagine. The responsibility, the care of a Dom for their sub, is the most important thing I can think of. Ever. Nothing compares to it.”

  Chapter Nine

  He’s definitely getting it, Charles thought with a certain satisfaction.

  “And then there’s the fun bit. You push the limits of your sub. You help them to be what they’ve always wanted to be but never knew until you showed them how. It’s your job to know them better than they know themselves. They say they don’t like pain? Maybe they don’t, but maybe you watch them during a session and you pull their hair just so…” An image of Tessa’s face flashed into his mind, her rosy lips parted with a moan of pleasure as he pulled her hair. Pulling much harder than he ever thought would have been possible when they first started their journey.

  “Well, it’s one of many things, Johnny. Pain might be something for one sub to overcome. Another, it might well be the fact they think they’re ugly, so a spin in the outdoors wearing something dangerously skimpy to show her that she is actually desirable will do the trick. Each sub is different, each experience is different. There are no ‘set pieces’ in this profession, and that’s what this is. A profession. It’s as serious as any other job out there, and the remuneration is better than anything else you can get.

  “So can you tell me—what are these two ladies doing today? It’s a simple question, no tricks here. Just watch and t
ell me your thoughts out loud. I won’t judge. There actually aren’t any wrong answers anyway.” Johnny continued to watch the ladies. The blonde one had got a knife now, and he chuckled at the thought of the potential horror running through the boy’s mind.

  “Is…is she going to cut Raven?” The agitation in Johnny’s voice was clear, but Charles smiled and slowly shook his head, chuckling again that he’d even given them names.

  “No, just the threat of it. Mindfuck, my dear boy, one of the best weapons in our armory. Raven here has no idea what—”

  “Blondie,” Johnny cut in.

  “Ah, yes, Blondie…is going to do with the knife. She trusts her but she’s not quite sure. Most likely in their journey over, she’s been subtly mentioning slicing things, or cutting or stabbing things, et cetera. So although Raven thinks she knows Blondie wouldn’t cut her, she’s now not one hundred percent sure.” Casting a sideways glance, the teacher noted the student looked a little pale.

  “Planning, my boy. Never consider that anything you see here is thrown together on a whim. It’s all in the detail.”

  Shifting his attention back to the other room, he watched the show unfurl. Raven was visibly shaking as Blondie brandished the knife in front of her, ensuring Raven could see just how sharp it was. Grabbing a handful of silken black tresses, Blondie pulled her head back and placed the flat of the blade against her cheek.

  “Girl. Do you trust me?” she inquired, slowly sliding the blade down her throat, and eventually stopping at her breast, never once leaving eye contact.

  “Yes, Mistress!” came Raven’s trembling reply. Blondie smiled and kissed her so tenderly that Charles caught his breath. Judging by Johnny’s intense scrutiny of the scene, the high emotion wasn’t lost on him either.

  Suddenly Blondie’s hand flashed quickly across Raven’s pale flesh and she sliced away her babydoll chemise, the material falling free from her breasts and leaving her standing in just her lacy panties. Her chest was visibly heaving, yet she calmed considerably as Blondie appeared to whisper something quietly in her ear, still tightly holding on to her hair. Just as the dark haired girl had calmed again, Blondie slipped the knife down the waistband of the panties and pulled sharply outward, cutting through one side, and then the next. The shredded panties fell to the floor, leaving Raven naked but for the stockings, suspenders and heels. Blondie kissed her deeply, and then turned away, moving to her bag and placing her knife back in a scabbard she found within it.