by Vera Roberts
That heroic act led to her next action: she didn’t know how to approach Nick. He had seen her half-naked at a sex party, getting taken advantage of by a guy who she silently admitted didn’t know all that well, and she had barely said thank you to him for rescuing her. He deserved so much more than a thank you. She owed him her life.
He had implied he wanted to spend the night with her and she had turned him down like a fool. Did he really want to spend the night with her? Or was it just a guilt trip ploy to get her to thank him properly? Maybe it was best course of action; her bruise swelled up the next morning and she stayed inside mostly to avoid looks and stares from passers-by on the street. She didn’t want to explain how or why she got that particular bruise.
“Hi Nick,” she waved.
“Zerrin,” Nick politely greeted her. He examined her face and saw there wasn’t a bruise. He felt relieved, though the anger still itched inside him from how she got that bruise. He read her nervousness. He knew she avoided him for the past few days because of everything. Well, it was awkward. He had seen a new side of her he hadn’t known existed. She knew a side of him that shocked her. Still, he wanted to listen to what she had to say—if she was going to say anything at all.
Long, quiet moments passed by when Nick finally spoke up again. “I can’t read your mind, Zerrin.”
Zerrin swallowed her pride. “The other night, Nick. I just want to say thank you for the other night. For what happened.” She waited for his response. Instead she was met with cold eyes and an equally cold front. “Thank you. I’ll be going now.” She began to leave.
“Have you ever been spanked?” Nick’s voice echoed in the classroom and made Zerrin stop in her tracks. She heard his footsteps walk over to her. She felt his strong presence directly behind her. She felt his eyes boring into her, drinking her in, and holding her steady.
“What?” Her voice cracked.
“Have you ever been spanked?” He asked again.
Nick stood close—too close—and it made Zerrin uncomfortable; her heart seemed to be skipping several beats and her throat suddenly became dry. She managed to find the strength to steady her breath, inhaling and exhaling through her nose, though she regretted that action. Each time she inhaled, she was blessed with the delicious musky cologne Nick was wearing.
It was at that moment Zerrin realized exactly how long it had been since she’s been with a man. Weeks morphed into months and Zerrin lost track. The last time she had sex was a long time ago and the last time she had good sex was even longer. It was too long and the sensations she was getting from her neck down to her core were making her head spin.
Still, she managed to find a few words. “No, I haven’t.” She shook her head. “Not yet.”
Nick walked over to the desk and sat down in the chair behind him. “Lift up your skirt and bend over my knee,” He ordered.
Zerrin hesitated. Did he just ask her what she thought he asked her? And at school? What if someone came in? What if a student spied on them? “Here?”
“A true submissive would just do, not ask,” Nick’s voice was stern. “Thank you, Zerrin. You can be on your way now.”
“Wait!” she interjected. She swallowed her pride and walked back to Nick and lifted her skirt, exposing her ass cheeks through her tights. She bent over his lap and again felt Nick’s eyes on her. He steadied her body, putting one hand on the small of her back while the other hand rubbed her ass, feeling how soft and supple it was.
Her heart was pounding, and her mind was racing; going a mile a minute. She lightly swallowed a few times, wondering what Nick was going to do to her. Was he going to hurt her? Was he going to harm her? She wished she had kept her mouth shut and avoided him for the rest of the year.
Smack! The sharp thud of Nick’s hand against her ass woke Zerrin up. Her eyes widened and her mouth gasped open in shock and pain. Smack! The second swat made her body tingle and the pain vibrated throughout her body. Smack! The third swat, however, created a hot sensation in her sex. Desire coursed through her body as her toes curled and Zerrin’s tongue darted out to moisten her lips. She swallowed a few times to steady her breath. Was she breathing? She stopped breathing upon the anticipation of everything. She finally let out a small breath through her nose and closed her eyes.
That was where she belonged. She felt needed. She felt at home. “If you want guidance, I can give it to you. If you don’t want guidance and prefer the bullshit that happened back at the club, we’re done here,” Nick quietly spoke as his hand circled her ass, causing shivers running up and down Zerrin’s spine. “The choice is yours.”
Zerrin closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This is what she wanted, right? She wanted a real Dom. She wanted someone to teach her, train her, and instill values in her. She wanted someone she could submit to. She wanted someone to own her mind and body. “I want this.”
“Why do you want to be a submissive?”
“I think it’s sexy, and I like the power exchange.”
Nick wasn’t convinced about Zerrin. He had witnessed too many women reading a romanticized tale of BDSM and the complicated D/s relationship, thinking that it was just one big orgasmic session after another. The same ones were usually surprised once they realized there was a lot of servitude and obedience expected from them, then they start screaming about Women’s Rights and referencing the suffrage movements as they hurriedly put on their clothing and raced out of his home. “There’s more to being a submissive than just being tied up and a guy fucks you with a dildo. There’s a lot of service and submission that is involved.”
“I realize that,” Zerrin was uncomfortable having a conversation with Nick while she was still bent over on his lap. There was something almost humiliating about the act. “I want to be a submissive to a Dom and cater to him.”
Nick walked his free hand down the curvature of Zerrin’s cheeks, feeling how soft her behind was. The emotions she brought out in him were almost feral, as if she brought out a need within him that even he didn’t realize he had. Oh, he was going to have a lot of fun flogging her. “Why do you want to be My submissive?”
Zerrin stilled her body. Nick was already testing her. He wanted to know her needs, her fears, her emotions. “I want You to teach me. I want You to properly teach me how to submit and be submissive. I want to sit at Your feet. I want to wear a collar. I want to serve You. I want to please You. I want You to own me. I want You to own this.”
“Shhh…” Nick helped Zerrin stand up. He straightened her skirt out before he lifted her chin to read her eyes. They were willing and trusting. They weren’t naïve or innocent, something he had encountered in the past and was not willing to deal with again. “You’re jumping ahead of yourself, My pet. We need baby steps with you.”
“I’m not a child, Nick,” Zerrin replied.
Nick looked at her with serious eyes. “It’s Master to you.”
Zerrin felt the heat of her body rise. Hearing Nick telling her how to properly address Him was sexy. His voice was authoritative, yet respectful. It was the start of a new relationship, a new ownership between them. They would never be the same again. “I’m capable of holding my own, Master.”
“You came in here to apologize to Me, remember? Zerrin, if I hadn’t been there the other night, there’s no telling what that asshole would’ve done to you. The Lifestyle isn’t for everyone. Not every guy who likes to be called Master is a true Dom. Not every woman who likes to play with a whip and wear leather thigh-high boots is a true Mistress. There are a lot of phonies and copycats out there.”
“That’s why I want You to teach me and guide me. Show me the way, Master.” Zerrin clarified. “Am I asking too much?”
“I want you to understand that what you’re asking for isn’t something that is for everyone. Once we get started, your life will never be the same again. I’m not going to be easy on you and have you take shortcuts because you’re too tired or because of our working relationship. I’ll be just as strict on you as
I am on the others,” He whispered in her ear, his deep voice making her quiver, “Is this something you want?”
Zerrin briefly closed her eyes. Oh she wanted Him to teach and train her. She wanted Him to nurture and cultivate her. “I want it, Master.”
“Good girl,” Nick pressed Zerrin’s body against his and wrapped his arms around her. “First lesson is this weekend. Bring a change of clothes and the necessary toiletries. I’m going to send you a document that will require your full attention. I will need that document back before you come over this weekend so we can discuss what is in it and answer any questions you may have.”
A document? Zerrin was confused on what her new Master was asking of her. “What document is it, Master?”
Nick turned Zerrin around and looked into her light brown eyes. “A contract.”
****
Zerrin barely finished her day at NYU. While she was instructing her students, she found herself wanting to check her cell phone to see if Nick—no, her Master—had sent the contract to her. What type of contract was it? Did she need to consult a lawyer? What was he requiring of her?
She arrived home at her apartment and made a beeline to the computer. As if he had read her thoughts, the e-mail from Nick had arrived as promised. The subject heading was simple: “Contract.” Nothing more, nothing less.
Zerrin eyed the wine bottle on her countertop and wondered if she would need to open it. She glanced back at the unread e-mail and decided she might need a glass or two, depending on the contents of the e-mail. She got up and poured herself a glass of wine. She then sat back down in front of her MacBook. She briefly rubbed her hands together and gave herself some encouragement. “Okay, let’s do this! What’s so harmful about a contract? I’m a big girl. I’m in grad school, for crying out loud. I can handle a contract!”
She opened the e-mail and carefully studied Nick’s words:
Zerrin,
This agreement is meant to encourage safe and consensual sexual exploration, to open up communication and help us both get the sex life we want. This agreement is also to help cultivate you into being the submissive you can be. Answer all questions truthfully. As you will be able to tell, I have already included my requests.
My address is located at the bottom of this e-mail. Don’t worry about money or anything else; I have that covered. Just bring yourself.
Nick
Zerrin opened up the attachment. Nick wasn’t playing with her when he said he was sending a contract to her. It was a good thing she had that glass of wine.
Does the submissive consent to the following? Answer yes, no, or depends on the circumstances.
Breast/Nipple play
Role Play
Hand job
Masturbation
Masturbation Mutual
Cunnilingus
Fellatio
Swallowing cum
Vaginal intercourse
Vaginal fisting
Vaginal Play (fingers/toys)
Rimming
Anal Sex
Anal Fisting
Threesome (FMF)
Threesome (MFM)
Group Sex
Golden showers
Needles, knives or blood
Breath control
Electrical current
Most of the terms, Zerrin was familiar with. But what was that thing involving needles, knives and blood? And that other thing—electrical currents? Was he about to electrocute her? And she could give a big fat ‘Oh, HELL no’ to getting pissed on. She wasn’t down for that shit, no matter how fine Professor D’Amato was.
Zerrin eyeballed the wine on the countertop again. She finished her first glass and went to pour herself another. She had a feeling she was going to need the whole damn bottle.
Six
“Zerrin,” Nick opened the door with a smile, “come in, sweetheart.”
There was something different about Nick already, Zerrin noticed. He was more relaxed and had a welcoming smile on his face. Gone were the black hipster frames that hid his stunning blue eyes.
He called her sweetheart. His voice was warm and had softened a great deal. It was then Zerrin realized how Nick was at the university was completely different from how he was off-campus.
Zerrin entered Nick’s home and looked around. It was modern and expensive with oak furniture and high-vaulted ceilings. A crystal chandelier was the centerpiece of the living room, leading to the long and open balcony. A spiral staircase led upstairs to the bedrooms and bathrooms. Pictures of his family and friends adorned one bookcase by the TV while the other bookcase housed many DVDs and blue-ray discs. The kitchen was just impressive with stainless steel appliances and a center island with marble countertop.
Zerrin already imagined how much Nick’s home cost—well into the millions. It was beyond what any professor could afford and her mind went into overdrive on how he could possibly afford it.
“This is a very nice home,” she managed to say.
“I got lucky,” Nick took out a bottle of wine and poured two glasses. “Years ago, my mother won the lottery. She gave all of us some of her winnings on the condition we weren’t stupid with it. I decided to buy the house I wanted and use some of the money to support myself through school.” He handed a glass to Zerrin. “Not bad for a boy from Staten Island, huh?”
Zerrin was relieved Nick’s home was because of his mother’s generosity and not any Mafioso connections. She shook her head to relieve such silly notions. “Not bad at all.”
“Let’s toast,” Nick suggested.
“Okay,” Zerrin smiled, “what are we toasting?”
Nick’s eyes became serious and thoughtful. “A wonderful and mutually beneficial partnership.” He smiled again. “Would you agree?”
Nick’s blue eyes pierced through Zerrin, and she immediately felt comforted. She clinked glasses with him. “I agree,” she sipped her wine and let the cool liquid trickle down her throat. It was fruity with notes of dark chocolate. “You know your wine.”
“I’m Italian, of course I do,” he winked before proceeding to the kitchen. He put on an apron and began to prepare dinner. “So tell me about yourself. What do you do? What are you into?”
“I thought you knew that already,” she replied.
“Besides that,” Nick countered, “BDSM is only a small part of you. It’s not all of you.”
“Well, I grew up in Brownsville…” Zerrin paused and stared up at the ceiling.
Nick looked up at her and noticed her quiet mood. “Is there a problem, Zerrin?”
“No, I’m just wondering how badly I want to ruin your dinner with my sob story,” she quietly replied.
“You don’t have to tell me if it’s uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s not that,” Zerrin walked to the kitchen island and made a seat at the counter. “It’s just whenever I tell the story, I get that uncomfortable sympathy look that people always give when they hear something unpleasant and then people feel they have to handle me with kid gloves afterward.”
“Well, I plan to blindfold, ballgag, and lead you by a leash and collar. Eventually I’ll place a spreader bar on you,” Nick smiled, “and if you want to get kinky, then yes, I’ll use the kid gloves on you.”
Nick’s humor made Zerrin feel comfortable already. “If you insist…”
“Please?”
“I grew up in Brownsville, two parents and an older brother. My dad wasn’t a conventional father. He was a drug-dealer. You may have heard of him, Sam the Man. He was partially responsible for doping up half of Brooklyn. He prided himself on having the best crack and cocaine money could buy. My mother, depending on who told the story, was either his number one ho or the brains behind the operation. When we were younger, we didn’t know what our parents did. All we did know was that they had money and they showered us with it. They went to all of the school plays, school functions, and athletic events. My brother was into singing so they always went to his performances. I was more into sports and they
were always went to my games.”
Nick listened intently as Zerrin told her story. He knew about Sam the Man; all of New York did. He had the biggest drug operation in New York, employing over a hundred dealers, runners, and prostitutes. His operation serviced everyone from Wall Street players to low-income families in East Harlem. When Sam was finally arrested, the DEA seized over five million dollars in drugs, money, clothing, and cars. Sam’s wife and Zerrin’s mother, Jenna, also went to prison. They both died of natural causes in prison and a huge memorial celebration was held for both of them, paid by rappers and other gangsters who admired the Black version of Bonnie and Clyde.
The press mentioned Sam had two young children who were placed in care with relatives. Nick never thought he would make the connection with the young woman before him.
“And then it all came crashing down one day,” Zerrin grimaced, “I remember when I was in my seventh-grade class and all these cops came in, rushing me out. We went to the police station where the cops told me that my parents did a very bad thing and that it wasn’t my or my brother’s fault. We went to go live with my grandmother and that’s that. My brother decided to parlay his feelings into music. You may know him as the rapper, Dolce Gabbana. Like the designer label but definitely not as classy,” she laughed to break the ice. “Before my parents went to prison, they transferred a large portion of their money to off-shore accounts because they knew what was going to happen. They put money aside for me and my brother in trust funds until we were 21. My brother used the money to start his music career. I decided to go into academics.”
“Well, some good came out of something horrible, right?” Nick asked.
“Maybe. Whenever I spend a dime of my money, in the back of my head I wonder what poor mother left her children home alone so she can blow some random dude so she can get a hit. Yeah, my parents left us a substantial amount of money, but there’s blood all over it,” Zerrin let out a sigh, “so there, that’s my sob story. I’m sure I scared you off.”
“Zerrin, I’m not going to punish you for your parents’ mistakes. Even if they were still alive and dealing, it wouldn’t deter me away from you,” Nick promised.
