I Married a Master

by Melanie Marchande

  "But what if somebody doesn't like the rules?" She cocked her head slightly. "They can't possibly be one-size-fits-all. Not really."

  "Then you make your own." I shrugged lightly. "The only unbreakable rule in the lifestyle is respect. Respect other people's boundaries, respect what they're doing, and respect how they want to be treated."

  Jenna was hugging her knees into her chest, leaning forward again. I had a feeling the constantly changing poses were a reflection of the confusion in her mind, and I could only hope she'd come to a favorable conclusion.

  "Sounds like a utopia," she said, with more than a hint of sarcasm.

  "I'm not saying it's perfect," I conceded. "There are people involved, so of course, sometimes things go wrong. But no one who causes trouble is allowed to stay. We take care of each other. At the end of the day, we're all just human beings trying to navigate the same hostile world."

  "Oh, that's inspiring. I feel like putting a ball gag and a saddle on somebody kind of undermines that, though." She held her thumb and forefinger about a millimeter apart. "Just a tiny bit."

  There was no outright hostility in her tone, but I still didn't appreciate her being so flip. Gritting my teeth, I tried to remind myself how difficult it was to wrap your head around kink for the first time.

  "It might look silly to you, but I promise you, it means something to them."

  Taking a deep breath, she watched me carefully for a moment. Her eyes travelled over my body, and I noticed that little flash of desire again.

  Don't tempt me. I'd love to show you exactly how meaningful all of this can be.

  "So what does domestic discipline mean to you?" she asked, softly.

  Hands resting on my knees, I leaned forward to meet her eyes. "Will my answer affect your decision?"

  "Maybe." She shrugged. "I'd like to get to know the man I'd be spending the next two years of my life with."

  There was no point in being anything less than honest.

  "It's not about what it means to me," I said. "It's about what it means to her."

  "So you get nothing out of it? I don't quite believe you."

  "I didn't say that. But when I see her come alive, the freedom she can feel because I've given it to her..."

  "I don't understand. How is it freeing when someone else is trying to mold you into a version of yourself that they want?"

  I had to laugh. She was so far off in her understanding - I mean, how did someone get to adulthood without being able to wrap their head around human sexuality? Shaking my head, I tried to explain exactly how wrong she was. "Is that what you think this is? It doesn't work like that. Not at all. They tell me what they don't like, what they want to change. And after that, it's up to them to confess. Unless they've asked for me to monitor them, it's one hundred percent honor system."

  She was even more confused now, her eyebrows knotting in that fiercely cute way that certainly didn't fit her personality. "I'm not going to pretend like I'll ever understand this, but for whatever reason, I trust that you're not a maniac." She sighed. "And I'll play the role you need me to play. Who knows. Maybe it'll give me some material."

  What the hell game was she playing?

  "All right," I said. "Well, that's settled, then."

  "Good," she said. "Thanks for the clothes."

  "They're all yours," I said. "But I'd suggest leaving some here, for these kinds of occasions."

  She nodded. "When did you expect me to move in? I mean, we're working on a pretty tight timetable here."

  "I think it should wait until after the wedding, don't you? Otherwise it's an awful lot to worry about, all at once."

  "Does anyone get married these days without living together?" Jenna gave me a skeptical look.

  "Sure," I said. "I'll buy a toothbrush, and you can tell people you're basically living here, if that helps."

  "Well. I have an audition today," she said, standing up. "So I'll talk to you later - all right?"

  I didn't want to let her leave. I wanted to demand an explanation for why she'd so gleefully given me blue balls, just to prove a point to herself. It wasn't fair. There were about a thousand ways I could've proven to her that I was a decent human being, that didn't involve dangerous priapism.

  But that would probably fly in the face of the whole "decent human being" thing.

  "All right, break a leg," I told her, as she gathered her things and prepared to walk out of my door one more time.

  Why, why, why was she tormenting me with something I couldn't have?

  Maybe it was just her way of seducing me. She wanted a taste - of course she did. I wasn't being conceited. I knew what I looked like. Back in college, I used to get plenty of offers for modeling underwear, or something equally ridiculous. For a while, when I was obsessed with fitting in, I actually posed nude in the art department. The figure drawing classes loved me. I acted like I needed the money, even though nobody was fooled. I never actually cashed the checks. It was just something to do - and I enjoyed watching the way the students' eyebrows would raise slightly when I shrugged off my robe.

  I always thought that would come back to haunt me someday, but so far it seemed like everyone had forgotten. Everyone except me, at any rate. There was probably some unspoken honor code of posing nude for art classes.

  I found it endlessly interesting which students drew me with the tattoos, and which ones left them out. They were only partially done back then, nowhere near as complex or vibrant as they were now.

  If Jenna drew me, I had a feeling the tattoos would come first.

  She liked bad boys in college. That was one tidbit I'd managed to glean from Maddy, and it certainly rang true so far.

  After some thought, I picked up my phone and called Daniel.

  "Hmm?" He always answered the phone so professionally when he knew I was calling. I grinned.

  "Good morning to you too. Busy?"

  "What do you think?" he groused. "If this isn't about a flood or a wildfire, I'm hanging up."

  "I can't talk about it over text," I said.

  "Why?"

  "Because you'll just delete it."

  He groaned. "You realize that's the equivalent of hanging up on you. Which I'm about to do."

  "Wait!" I insisted. "Remember the Silo?"

  There was a long silence.

  "Hanging up now," he said.

  "No, no, no. Please. Just hear me out. Jenna's willing to give it a shot. This is a one-in-a-million thing. She's not really...kinky. But she wants to try, for me. Do you have any idea how valuable that is?"

  "Some," he said, dryly. "But the answer's no."

  "Come on. Dan. I would've done it for you. This will be so much easier for her if she's around at least one friend she can trust." I put on the most sincere tone I could manage. "I really, really like this girl. I think she's the one, man. I've never felt this way about anybody since Daria...I didn't even feel this way about Daria. It's real. If she can learn to love this too..."

  The line was silent for a while, but he hadn't hung up. "I never would've asked you to do it for me," he said, shortly. "Not if I knew you'd left. We had this discussion, Ben. That's not who I am anymore."

  "But it is," I insisted. "You think Maddy wouldn't enjoy a little bit of being shown off on your arm?"

  "That's my wife you're talking about," he growled. "Be careful."

  I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Relax. Will you at least ask her? For me? Make it like it's all my fault. Like you never enjoyed going there at all. I'm twisting your arm. I bet you'll be surprised by her reaction."

  "You're on thin ice," he warned.

  "God damn, okay!" I raised my palm in a surrendering gesture, as if he could see me. "Forgive me for allowing the possibility that your wife enjoys a bit of the rough. She did marry you."

  "What did I just say?"

  I was feeling cheeky, but I decided not to push it. "That your wife's a lovely, understanding woman who will certainly want to help me out with my predicament.
"

  "I really am hanging up now," he said.

  "Thank you," I half-shouted, as the line went dead.

  Well. It could have gone worse.

  Jenna would certainly view the whole thing a lot more sympathetically with her friend by her side. Even though I loved the community at Silo, and trusted most of them, there was no guarantee that everything would go smoothly. If something spooked her, I wanted Maddy to be there to smooth things over. I wasn't going to risk my whole plan blowing up just because of some stupid hiccup at a fetish club.

  I was asking for trouble, suggesting this. I'd known that at the start. But giving Jenna this little initiation into my world gratified something deep inside me, and I couldn't just pass up this opportunity.

  Of course, if she ended up too intrigued, I'd have a whole new set of problems on my hands. But that was a risk I'd just have to take.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jenna

  I was in way too deep.

  My little stunt on the way home from the party was supposed to be a test. I needed to know. Now, I wished I hadn't found out, because if I thought he was the kind of absolute scumbag who'd take advantage of a very drunk girl - well, that would've made it a lot easier to hate him.

  Instead, I saw his tender side, his sense of responsibility towards his fellow human beings. The fact that he respected women, respected me. At first, it was fun to watch him squirm, but I quickly found myself wishing I hadn't been so convincing.

  I didn't know why he'd been so worked up in the first place - maybe his pre-party state stood him up, or something. He was looking at me like he wanted to eat me alive, and I wanted to let him. But that would be irresponsible. Complicated. Messy. Wrong.

  By the time he let out that tortured groan in the car, I was in even worse shape than he was. I was almost sure of it.

  It was nothing a few furtive sessions of self-gratification in his guest room couldn't cure. Or so I thought.

  I really was a little drunk. Enough so that I could say the things I said without embarrassment, but not enough to wonder why they came so easily, rolling off my tongue like the truth.

  In the cold light of day, sober and all too awake, I started to wonder.

  Yes, I wanted him, but I could control myself. Couldn't I? I was an adult. We were both adults, but in the backseat of that town car, just for a moment there, it felt like we were horny teenagers. Completely hormonal, and completely out of control. I didn't like feeling that way. At the same time, it was strangely thrilling.

  That was half the reason why I'd agreed to go to the stupid club, or whatever it was. I had no idea what to expect while I was there, but at least it would be something new. And I'd be with him. People would look at us and assume we were together¸ and I was quickly finding that to be an oddly intoxicating experience. Did I really look like I could be a billionaire's girlfriend?

  Ben sure seemed to think so. And hell, in the absence of anything else, I was willing to take that as a complement.

  ***

  "You sure you don't want a ride home?" Maddy asked me, for the fifth time.

  She'd gotten home a little early, but I could never actually leave until my bus came. It wasn't that much of a burden, but one of them always offered.

  "Seriously, I like the bus." A lie, but I sold it pretty well. They were already being too damn nice to me. "It's fine. I just wish they came a little more frequently."

  "Don't worry about it," she said, with a dismissive wave of her hand. "You can wait here for as long as you need. I just need to go talk to Daniel about something."

  "Of course."

  She disappeared up the stairs, and I heard the low murmur of Daniel's voice floating down. I couldn't distinguish the words, but when Maddy spoke, it was much clearer.

  I felt bad, sort of, but they weren't making any effort to be quiet.

  "Wait, what?" she said. "What kind of club?"

  My heart skipped a beat. Had Ben asked them to come along? Of course, it would make sense, but after his conversation with Daniel at the bar, I figured that negotiation was over.

  I would be really nice to have a friend there - someone with more than a passing knowledge of this world. But not if it was going to cause a big fight. I already felt guilty, even though I knew it wasn't even close to my fault.

  "Wait, no," Maddy was saying. "I didn't say if I wanted to do it. Why would you assume I didn't?"

  Daniel's voice was a little louder, but still too low on the register for me to understand.

  "Of course I like it being our thing, but if it wasn't a problem for you to be out at the clubs before - why now?"

  More indistinguishable sounds.

  "Oh, come on. That's ridiculous."

  "It's not ridiculous!" Finally, I could hear Daniel clearly. "I just want you to be safe. And happy. You don't know what it's like to be out there in the community, it's not something you ever asked for. It's not something you wanted." There was a glimmer of self-annoyance in his tone. Were all of these guys conflicted about their desires? Ben didn't seem to be, except sometimes, he almost did. It was a strange paradox.

  "Daniel," she said, a little more softly now. "I love what we do. I love all of it. I don't need to hide it, and I don't need to be hidden."

  "So, what then?" He sounded frustrated. "You want me to show you off?"

  "Do you want to show me off?"

  "Of course!" Daniel practically shouted. "Of course. Part of me wants that. The other part of me wants to kill any man who looks at you. So you can see my problem."

  Maddy's voice got softer. "I wish you'd say that more often," she said.

  "What?" He sounded slightly amused. "Threaten murder?"

  "Not specifically." She sighed. "It's just...it's nice to know that you still get jealous."

  It was time for me to leave. But something told me that Ben and I wouldn't be going to that club alone.

  ***

  I didn't really know what to expect when I opened up the package on my doorstep. Once again, Ben was having my dress sent over - but this time, it was for a very exclusive club called the Silo, and I was supposed to pretend like I understood anything about kink beyond reading the Wikipedia articles for BDSM and the Folsom street fair.

  I figured this wasn't one of those latex dress places, but beyond that, I had no idea what the standards were.

  Not as revealing as I expected. That was the first thing that popped into my head as I surveyed the cream-colored, knee-length cocktail dress, decorated with a criss-ross of black ribbon. It was a subtle nod to bondage, I assumed, but about as classy as fetishwear could get. The artfully ripped fishnet stockings were a little less classy, but I had to admit they made my mouth water a little. I'd always kind of secretly lusted after edgier fashion choices, but I never felt like I could pull it off. I mean, where do you sport a pair of fishnets? The grocery store? A Christmas Eve party? Now, I actually had an excuse.

  There was something heavy in the bottom of the box, and I pulled them out with slightly heightened anticipation.

  Boots.

  I frowned a little. I thought the dominants were supposed to be the ones wearing boots. All the pictures of subs I'd seen, they were barefoot, or in really impractical spiky heels. But if I needed to wear something I could actually walk in, maybe boots were the stylish sub's natural choice.

  And, oh, they were nice boots. I was still a vanilla girl, through and through, but who doesn't get a few goosebumps at the sight of a nice pair of "fuck-me" boots? And these were definitely fuck-me boots. Considering how relatively demure the rest of the outfit was, I was surprised.

  They were tall, but not too tall, stopping just short of my knees, lined with silver buckles along the sides. Not quite goth and not quite punk, but oh so beautiful. I wondered if Ben had picked them out personally.

  I spent an inordinately long time getting ready, experimenting with my hair a thousand different ways before I just settled for "down." Should I text Ben and ask him how he wanted it? Wa
s that how this worked?

  Damn it, why couldn't any of this be easy?

  My boots, at least, were solid and reassuring. I liked the sound of my own footsteps. In the mirror, I thought I looked like a kid dressing up for her creepy older boyfriend's Halloween frat party. But if this was how Ben wanted me, this was how he'd get me.

  When the car finally arrived, I stood nervously at my front door for a minute, fiddling with my lipstick before I finally shoved it back into my only formal purse (it was black, luckily) and stepped out onto the porch with a reassuring thunk, thunk.

  Ben was standing on the curb already, waiting for me. Judging by the look on his face, he was hearing The Cars' "Moving in Stereo" in the back of his head. It was nice to see him a little slack-jawed over me, but the frequency of it definitely made it seem less like a complement, and more like a constant state of being.

  He, meanwhile, looked very much like his usual self - but with a bit of a sinister twist. As I got closer, I realized that his tie and his high-collared jacket were both made of dark, supple leather. He was holding a pair of matching gloves in his hand, and his pants seemed to fit a little differently than usual. Everything about him screamed alpha male. I couldn't quite put my finger on all the subtle differences, but this wasn't a businessman dressed for a day of work. This was a predator on the prowl.

  I wanted him to devour me.

  Stop it.

  Shaking my head, I settled in for the ride. Ben seemed lost in thought, but I found him more captivating than usual to look at. This was another side of him entirely, one I'd never seen when he was just talking about this stuff. It was something words couldn't quite capture.

  From time to time, he lifted one hand to the side of his face and sort of prodding at his jaw, gently, wincing a little bit. I wanted to ask he was all right, but he seemed lost in another world.

  The club wasn't far, but it was tucked away in a corner that was safe from prying eyes, with plenty of room for cars to make pickups and dropoffs in relative privacy. There were two bouncer-types near the end of the cul-de-sac, watching for photographers and any suspicious characters who tried to get too close, I imagined.