The Mistress Files: The Case of the Acting ActressThe Case of the Diffident DomThe Case of the Reluctant Rock StarThe Case of the Secret SwitchThe Case of the Brokenhearted Bartender

by Tiffany Reisz

  “Did you just tell me to ‘skedaddle’?” Kingsley said, his French accent struggling with the word.

  “I did. And I mean it. Chris?”

  “She means it. We win. You lose. Shoo.”

  “C’est la guerre. I’m going.” Kingsley didn’t sound like he wanted to leave but the man was smart enough to know when he was outnumbered. “I’ll be back in an hour to take Chris home. Is that long enough?”

  “If it isn’t then you can wait in the hallway until she comes out. Oui?” The Mistress gave him an entirely insincere smile.

  “You don’t have to escort me home. I’ll be okay.” Chris rolled her eyes again. The Mistress had a feeling this scenario played out fairly often. Kingsley did get a bit overprotective of his Sams. She had to wonder if the Original Sam knew what she’d done to the man.

  “I know you’ll be fine. I’m taking you home anyway.”

  “Fine. Fine.” Chris raised her hands in surrender.

  “Yes, it’s all fine. Now go, Dad. Time for the slumber party. Out.”

  Kingsley raised Chris’s hand and kissed the back of it before giving The Mistress one last menacing look.

  “Take good care of her,” he ordered. “Non. Take the best care of her.”

  “She gets my A-game. You get out.”

  With one more bow, Kingsley left the room.

  “God damn, that man is such a mother hen sometimes.” The Mistress opened the door to make sure he’d really gone. She wouldn’t put it past him to wait out in the hallway the entire time.

  “He is, and I have no idea why. He’s so weird.”

  “He’s French.” The Mistress waved her hand dismissively.

  “It’s not that. He treats me like a princess. Do I look like a princess to you?” Chris motioned at herself to indicate her short spiky hair, her boyish clothes and boots.

  “Doesn’t matter. You’re the New Sam. You might as well be royalty to him.”

  “That might explain things if I knew what the hell that meant.” Chris looked around and nodded her approval. The Mistress did have a rather swank setup in the front room of her suite. But what they needed for their session was in the second room, the playroom.

  “You don’t know about Sam?” The Mistress led Chris to the examination bed she had for her medical fetishists. She patted the seat to indicate Chris should sit. Across from her on a wheeled stool The Mistress sat and looked up at her.

  “No. Everyone says, ‘Oh, you must be the New Sam’ when they meet me but no one’s told me who she or he or it is.”

  “Take your shoes, pants and underwear off, get under the sheet and then I’ll tell you.”

  Chris seemed just nervous enough that The Mistress decided she might need to try a little carrot-stick action to get her client to relax and undress. Stick—taking her clothes off in front of a stranger. Carrot—the answer to her long-held question.

  “Um...okay. You gonna watch?” Chris asked, clearly embarrassed.

  “I am. I’m a Dominatrix, not a doctor. Unless you absolutely need me to leave the room, I’m staying in here. I’m going to see what’s under the clothes anyway so I don’t know how not letting me watch you undress is going to save you some modesty points. And the sooner you get used to being naked around me, the better. You aren’t submitting to me, however, so you can ask me to leave if you need me to.”

  Chris exhaled heavily and dangled her feet over the edge of the bed like a nervous child.

  “Fine. Whatever. You’re right. You’re gonna see everything anyway,” she said, raising her legs to start unlacing her boots.

  “Good girl.”

  “Good girl?”

  “Sorry. Habit. I’ll turn the heat up in here so you can relax more.”

  The Mistress clicked the temperature up a few notches while Chris shimmied out of her jeans and underwear. For a young woman trying very hard to go the butch route, she had on remarkably pretty panties, white and lace-trimmed. Boy-short style, but still quite girly. And although she couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred and ten pounds, she had some good curves on her. Nice hips, shapely legs. Her pubic hair had been close-trimmed but not shaved or waxed off. Nice to see a woman who wasn’t afraid of looking like an actual adult under her clothes.

  “Okay, just lay back. We’ll take our time here,” The Mistress said as she sanitized her hands thoroughly. She raised the stirrups on the examining table and helped Chris get her feet into them. “I won’t touch you without warning you first. Cool?”

  “Cool.” Chris took a slow breath and stared up at the ceiling.

  “Cool. I’ll get the toys. Don’t be freaked out.” The Mistress pulled open a drawer and one by one removed six dildos of varying sizes and lined them up on the metal tray. Chris watched her the entire time, her eyes growing wider as dildos of impressive size appeared.

  “Holy shit,” Chris breathed as she took in the array. “That big?”

  “Never seen one before? I mean, an actual penis on a grown man?”

  “Not in person. Only pictures. I’m a gold star lesbian,” she said with pride.

  “Gold star?” The Mistress pulled out some gauze pads and a small bullet vibrator.

  “That’s what you call someone gay or lesbian who’s never been with the opposite sex. I knew what I was in kindergarten. Never had any confusion about what I was so never fooled around with a guy at all.”

  “Nice. I’m a gold star kinkster then. Never had vanilla sex.”

  “Wow. I think that would be a lot harder than a gold star lesbian. Kinky sex looks like a lot of work.” She glanced around the dungeon, at the various ropes, floggers, single-tails and other implements of torture hanging on the walls.

  “It’s probably more work than vanilla sex but completely worth is. You take sex more seriously when you have to plan it in advance and do equipment checks and have a medic on standby. It’s the price we pay if we want our gold stars.” She sat back down on the stool and scooted in closer to Chris.

  “I guess I’m paying the price for being a gold star. This is probably the most embarrassing thing ever.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed. Not allowed around me. Unless it’s one of your kinks.”

  “I’m twenty-three, and I’m not a virgin. I’ve been having sex with girls since I was sixteen.”

  “You don’t have to feel bad. An intact hymen isn’t a badge of shame.”

  “It’s a pain in the ass is what it is.”

  The Mistress looked at Chris over the sheet.

  “If your hymen is a pain in the ass, then we’re going to rethink our hymen-breaking strategy here. That’s okay. I have butt plugs galore.”

  Chris covered her face with one hand and laughed ruefully.

  “Sorry,” she said, leaning up on her elbows. “Pain in the vadge? Is that better?”

  “I don’t know if it’s better, but it certainly makes more sense anatomically. You want to get started?”

  “Not really. But I’d rather get it over with as soon as possible.” Chris lay flat on her back again.

  The Mistress pulled her stool up even closer and adjusted the sheet and her light.

  “I’m going to touch you now. Just one finger inside. Want to see what you’ve got under the hood so to speak.”

  “Go for it,” Chris said with a heavy sigh.

  “You know, usually when I finger bang girls, they sound a lot more happy about it.” The Mistress spread Chris’s folds open and slipped one finger into her. “Does that hurt?”

  Chris shook her head. “That’s fine. I use tampons so I’m used to something finger-sized.”

  “But not much more than that. Jesus, you are tight. I thought I had the hymen from Hell. No wonder you’ve been putting this off.”

  “I’ve tried breaking it a f
ew times myself, and I just can’t. Hurts too much.”

  The Mistress pressed down against the layers of tissue at the opening of Chris’s vagina. Breaking that killer hymen would take more than just a couple minutes with a vibrator.

  “I don’t blame you. In my world there’s good pain and bad pain. Getting your vagina ripped is of the ‘bad pain’ variety. Are you sure you want to do this? Sober, I mean? I can get some booze or drugs. God only knows what’s in King’s medicine cabinet right now.”

  “King gave me a Vicodin to take after if I needed it. I better not take anything else.”

  “You sure about doing this?”

  “I’m sure. I need to do it.”

  The Mistress heard a note of sadness in her voice.

  “Need to?”

  Chris nodded. “Need. My girlfriend...ex-girlfriend now...she accused me of being stone-cold.”

  The Mistress looked up over the sheet at Chris.

  “You’re going to have to explain that one to me. I can barely keep up with all the different permutations of kinky people. I’ll need the Cliff’s Notes on the lesbians.” The Mistress moved her finger gently in and out of Chris simply to get her accustomed to being touched so intimately.

  “Stone-cold? It’s um...” Chris paused to think. “There are some of us who are really masculine. Almost borderline transgender. So a stone-cold lesbian, she doesn’t want her body treated like, you know, a man would treat a woman.”

  “So no penetration?”

  “Right. Exactly.”

  “And your ex-girlfriend called you stone-cold because you don’t like being penetrated?”

  “It was more than that. I never even let her try. Being twenty-three and sexually active and having the hymen of a ten-year-old girl is humiliating. I didn’t want to deal with her having to deal with me. More than one finger hurts so what’s the point? Anyway, Theresa said she couldn’t be with someone so closed-off. We started fighting a lot. I thought everything was great between us...except in bed. Apparently sex mattered more than everything else to her.”

  “Sex does matter in a relationship. Anyone who says differently is fooling themselves because they’ve never had good sex.”

  “I know it does matter. But I didn’t think it was the be-all end-all of our relationship.”

  “Chris...listen to me.” The Mistress pulled her hand out and held up two fingers. Chris nodded her agreement and The Mistress pushed into her again gently. Chris winced only once. “Sex in a relationship is a partnership. One person can’t do all the work. And you’re being fingered by a woman who used to submit to the Dominant of all Dominant men. He’s not an alpha male. He’s the alpha and omega male. He met the president once and the president called him ‘Sir.’ Even in that relationship with Captain Über-Dom, we both did the work in the bedroom. Or the kitchen. Or the living room. Or the dungeon. Or under the piano...”

  “Under?”

  “He wouldn’t do me on top of the piano. He didn’t want me scratching the finish.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “The point is...I told him things I enjoyed, and we did them. He told me things he wanted to try and we did them. I loved his body so he let me touch him any way I wanted. He loved mine and no part of me was off-limits to him. I’m sure Theresa wanted to give you the sort of pleasure you gave her. One partner doing all the work while the other one lays there is nice for a night or two. After that, it gets old. And you start to feel like, ‘What’s wrong with me? Why doesn’t he/she/it want me to touch her?’ Any chance Theresa felt like you didn’t want her touching you?”

  “Um...maybe?”

  “More than maybe?”

  “I did sort of say something to the effect of, ‘I don’t want you in me.’”

  “I’m in you. Is it really that awful?” The Mistress raised her eyebrow at Chris.

  “No. Not awful. A little weird. Not used to it. But it’s not bad.”

  “Not bad? All I get is a ‘not bad’? I better kick this orgy up a notch or two.” She stood up between Chris’s legs and reached for the smallest of her vibrators, the one that fit over her end of her finger.

  “What is that?” Chris eyed The Mistress’s hand warily.

  “Tiny vibrator. Don’t worry. It’s not going in you. A little clitoral stimulation helps the dildo go down. Try to relax. You’ll enjoy this.”

  Chris laid back on the table again and gazed up at the ceiling.

  “I hadn’t planned on enjoying this experience.”

  “If you didn’t want pleasure with your pain, you should have gone to a doctor, not a Dominatrix.” The Mistress turned the vibrator on and started to massage near Chris’s clitoris.

  “I went to a doctor. Want to know what she told me?”

  The Mistress winced. “From the tone of your voice I’m guessing I don’t. But tell me anyway.”

  “She told me to break my hymen the old-fashioned way, by having sex with a man. She said I only needed to do it once. Close my eyes and think of England, she said.”

  “What a homophobic bitch. I hope you reported her to the medical board.”

  “Kingsley did when I told him. He’s determined to get her censured or whatever they do.”

  “Good for King. I’m not at all surprised you decided to go a different route after that run-in. Yeah, doctors don’t know what to do with people like us sometimes. I used to sub a lot and would get minor injuries every now and then. Kingsley always sent me to a kinky doctor so I wouldn’t have to deal with the inevitable phone calls to the police and psych evaluations.”

  “Kingsley’s cool. You know, for a man. I almost...well, not almost. But it crossed my mind.” Chris blushed bright red and The Mistress bit back a smile.

  “It’s a good thing you didn’t. The man’s been responsible for more deflowerings than Jose Cuervo and Jack Daniel’s combined, but only with straight or bisexual women who were attracted to him. He’d probably have said no. He’s not in the habit of having sex with anyone who isn’t one-hundred-percent into it. And even if he did say yes...” The Mistress paused and picked up the second largest of the dildos on her tray. She held it up for Chris to see.

  “Jesus H. Christ. Are you serious?” Chris looked like she’d pass out from the sight of it.

  “Serious.” She put the dildo back on the tray. “The man’s cock is as big as his ego.”

  “That’s huge.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “I can’t believe straight women can take something like that.”

  The Mistress only laughed.

  “Don’t get all prudish on me. You aren’t my first lady who loves the ladies I’ve had in here. Some of the sisterhood can take an arm up to the elbow. I know this from personal experience.”

  “You’re bi?” Chris sounded dubious.

  “I don’t like the term bisexual. Too limiting. Let’s just say the Hard Rock Café and I have one thing in common. We love all and serve all.”

  “Nice.”

  “But to answer your question, yes. I sleep with men and women. Was in a fairly long-term relationship with a woman a few years ago. We broke up.”

  “What happened?”

  “She decided to stay a nun. I have got to stop dating people in religious orders.”

  Chris laughed again and The Mistress let her laugh even though she hadn’t been joking. Instead, she silenced Chris’s laughter by pressing the fingertip vibrator to her clitoris. Chris gasped a little and balled her fingers tight into a fist.

  “Oh, wow...”

  “Fun, right?”

  “Kind of fun. Definitely.”

  “Good. When you start to feel pain, just focus your attention on your clitoris and all the fun in that area, okay?”

  “Okay...” Chris nodded and closed her eye
s.

  “So,” The Mistress began as she pushed down on the back of Chris’s vagina again, pressing against the hymen, “are you doing this for your ex-girlfriend or for you?”

  “I’m doing this for me. I’ve wanted to do it a long time. I had a girlfriend before Theresa, but she didn’t complain about being me not wanting any penetration. But she was kind of selfish. Very selfish in bed and out. It wasn’t until Theresa that I started to think about it. She was okay with our sex life at first but it really hurt her that I wouldn’t let her inside me. Hurt her enough that she dumped me. The breakup was the final straw. That and Kingsley catching me sobbing in my rum and Coke after closing bell three nights ago.”

  “Kingsley cannot resist a woman in distress. Especially his New Sam.”

  “Okay, you have to tell me who the fuck this Sam person is and why everyone talks about her like she’s some kind of dearly departed saint.”

  The Mistress laughed so hard it seemed to startle Chris. Somewhere Sam’s ears were burning at the combination of her name and “saint” in the same sentence.

  “Sam was the first head bartender at the Möbius. The old owner had the brilliant idea that he needed lesbian bartenders. Straight male bartenders would hit on the strippers. Gay male bartenders would hit on the customers. Girly women bartenders would get hit on by the customers....”

  “So a butchy-looking lesbian was his bright idea?”

  “Exactly,” The Mistress said as she slowly pulled her two fingers out of Chris.

  “That’s actually pretty brilliant.”

  “It was. Some of the strippers hit on Sam, but Sam had a girlfriend she was totally devoted to. Made for a nice, safe working environment. As nice and safe as you can expect from a strip club. Sam kept everybody in line.”

  “I do the same thing. At least I try to. Just because they’re strippers doesn’t mean anyone gets to disrespect them. I have a zero tolerance policy for bad behavior.”

  “Good girl. Sam instituted the same policy. Nobody crossed Sam. Not even Kingsley after he bought the place and changed the name.”

  “I like this Sam person.”

  “You would like her. Wish she still lived here. Sam looked a little like you—skinny twerp, very pretty in a ‘I want to be mistaken for a fourteen-year-old boy’ way.”