"Flynn, I have to ask ... have you done this sort of thing before?"
Flynn sipped from his wine glass. “Let's just say that I am familiar with what's expected of me. Since you asked, I was wondering what you knew about the lifestyle."
Intrigued by the lifestyle, Echo had once gotten up the nerve to go to a fetish ball where she was captivated by the myriad expressions of sexuality. Drawn to the couples that expressed a submissive/dominant relationship, she studied their actions with fascination, seeing a touching beauty in them. Afterwards, Echo researched the psychology of a submissive, and it was as if they had read her diary. Since then, she had delved into books and movies depicting submissives. Each story was different, some extreme and some much tamer, but through them she had learned and been able to explore what she found exciting and what she didn't.
"I think I know enough to not be shocked about certain aspects of it.” She explained. “I guess I'm not certain if I know what I should."
"That part you can leave up to me. It would be my responsibility to instruct and nurture you along the way. You need to have confidence in me and I need to make certain that your confidence is well placed.
Don't kid yourself that it will be easy and I may not always be exactly what you want, but I sure as hell will try my damndest to please you. I promise to always keep your best interest at heart and not to progress faster than you're ready. If you believe in me, I can give you what you don't yet know that you need."
Echo's stomach tightened at his words. Where had she heard that before? She couldn't quite recall. More frequently than coincidence could explain, Flynn would say things that Echo was certain she'd heard before. It was happening once more ... déjà vu, all over again.
Echo carefully weighed Flynn's words, searching for a trace of insincerity. Did she trust him? She had issues with trust regarding any man, but she did trust Flynn. He had been nothing but honorable since they met. Still she hesitated, fearful to leap into the unknown. She chewed her bottom lip in indecision.
Flynn's voice took on a sense of urgency. “Take a chance on me, Echo. It's a gamble, I know. I'm not perfect, and there are certain aspects of my personality that I know I will have to work on, but I'll try my best to be what you want me to be.
It's completely your choice,” he persisted. “But I need you to know that I want this too. I could hardly believe my good luck when you expressed your feelings to me the other night. Then, when I was on your bed, and playing around with being dominant, something clicked. We seem so right together that it's almost spooky."
It was spooky. Fate was not something she readily believed in, but all the signs pointed to this moment. She realized her biggest fear was that she would somehow fuck this up and lose him.
"What happens,” she asked, “if I find I can't do it, or don't like it?"
"If it doesn't work out, there will be no hard feelings, and hopefully we remain good friends, perhaps even more. I should have said this sooner, in case you couldn't tell, but I really care for you lass and if you say yes, I promise you that I will cherish your submission as the most precious gift I have ever received and in turn I will do my damndest to take your mind and body to places that you have never even imagined."
No one had ever promised to take her mind and body to unimagined places. If she could choose anyone to do that to her, it would definitely be Flynn. He had already taken her mind on flights of fancy. He had been the leading character in her solo sexual acts since day one and she hadn't been able to bump him from the starring role since. She yearned to be with him in the flesh. In the back of her mind, she suspected that having sex with him could be the wildest, most erotic experience of her life and she was compelled to find out if her suspicions were true.
"You know what Flynn—yes, I say yes, let's do it."
He couldn't believe his own ears. Relief, mingled with a sense of excitement tingled beneath his skin. Flynn's thoughts were abuzz as he leaned back against the chair, nearly toppling it to the floor. His joy quickly turned sober as the serious nature of his business descended upon his mind. The confidence he had felt during his conversation with Echo waned. He had one chance to get this right. The slightest error and she would be lost to him. It was not only her body she had entrusted to him, but her heart and her psyche were now in his care as well.
Throughout his life he had fearlessly gone to battle for his land, encountered countless foes, and faced demons of every sort, but none intimidated him more than this one mortal woman.
A Lesson in Submission
The morning broke dazzling and clear. The earth announced the arrival of changing seasons with the clean snap of a crisp October chill. Coffee cup in hand, Echo padded out to the mailbox, her fuzzy terry slippers flap flapping on the sidewalk.
Utility bills, a credit card offer, coupons, she thought as she flipped through the mail. Ooh, what's this? She turned the small white envelope over in her hands. A wax impression of a mask sealed the flap. Echo didn't wait until she was back in the house to open the intriguing correspondence. Carefully lifting the wax seal, she sat on her porch and opened the letter. A single piece of cardstock was enclosed.
You are cordially invited To explore your innermost desires at A Halloween Fantasy Ball 8 PM October 31st Dress accordingly Flynn
Echo gathered up her mail and darted inside of the house. She examined the envelope. It bore no return address or postage mark. Flynn must have snuck over and tucked it into her mailbox while she was sleeping. Echo read the invitation once more.
Dress accordingly? What in the heck does that mean?
"You can decide to be whatever you want to be ... so decide who you truly want to be?"
Echo reeled around expecting to see Flynn. The door was shut tightly behind her. She was alone in the house. The words floated like a specter in the shadows.
Echo had the sneaking suspicion that someone in the great beyond was having some fun with her by impersonating Flynn's voice.
"Well for your information, that is exactly what I am going to do!” she declared to no one in particular.
* * * *
Echo's exhilaration mounted as she peered into the window of the costume shop. Halloween was her favorite time of year. She reveled in the comically ghastly images, the sinister, grinning Jack-O-Lanterns, and all things that go bump in the night. What she most anticipated were the few fantastical hours when she could become whoever she wanted to be. As she donned each element of her chosen costume a gradual transformation would come over her personality. With the final stroke of makeup, she was not Echo any longer. She was Cinderella at the ball, racing to outrun the stroke of midnight that announced her return to reality.
A bell tinkled merrily over the door as she entered the crowded store. The shop was a Halloween enthusiast's dream. Gruesome props, peculiar masks and hundreds of costume choices lined the walls.
"Where to begin...” Echo considered. “Hmm, this is pretty.” She placed a pink sequined mask over her eyes.
"No, not that one. Let's try ... this."
Echo froze. Was someone standing behind her, or was it an unearthly trickster again? Nowadays she couldn't trust her own judgment. Echo inhaled sharply as the pretty pink mask was pulled from her face and swiftly replaced with another. Who was touching her? She tried to turn around, but unseen hands gripped her firmly by the shoulders and faced her towards a mirror. She was thrilled and relieved to see Flynn's rugged face in the reflection. Echo chided herself for being so jumpy. Flynn probably thought she was a basket case. How could he know that disembodied voices followed her around?
Resting his chin on the top of her head, he purred, “Now, doesn't this mask suit you better?"
Echo studied her reflection. The upper half of her face was obscured by a mask of white leather that was so thin and supple it felt as if a fine kid glove embraced her skin. Her emerald eyes peered out from beneath the silvery eyebrows embossed on the mask. She was speechless, transfixed upon her reflection.
&
nbsp; "Your silence tells me that you approve. Now we have to select your costume. You are here buying a costume for my party?"
She beamed a smile. “You bet I am. I love costume parties!"
"Well, let's see. How fun. You can be anyone you want to be ... so, you need to decide who you truly want to be."
Okay, this was just too weird. She had heard those words just this morning. Now she was certain someone was playing tricks on her.
"I guess that's the problem,” she chuckled. “I don't really know who I want to be."
"Alright, then, see that clerk over there?” Flynn lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Go over to him and tell him that you would like to try on something that accents your assets, and flash him that same smile you just gave me."
Echo shot Flynn a questioning look. She began to suspect that he was up to something.
"Go on, be a good girl.” Flynn prodded her forward with a slight push against her back.
"I'm going ... I'm going.” Echo proceeded hesitantly towards the clerk when a sharp snap stung her buttocks. Turning in surprise, she saw Flynn, grinning slyly, and twirling a riding crop in his hand.
"Giddy up little filly, we don't have all day!"
Echo's ass cheek burned from the crop. She knew that she should be put off by his audacious behavior, but she wasn't. In fact, her body pulsed with stimulation in response to Flynn's bold advances.
She leaned over the glass counter, her breasts resting on her folded arms causing her cleavage to deepen and swell above the scooped neckline of her tank top. She spied Flynn from the corner of her eye and purposefully swayed her bottom to and fro as she flirted shamelessly with the man behind the counter. An unhappy expression crossed Flynn's face. He was obviously the jealous type. Echo relished having the power to evoke those feelings from him.
The acne-scarred clerk leered lasciviously as he guided Echo to a room that was obscured by a heavy black curtain. Sizing her up, he selected an ivory leather fishtail gown and displayed it for her inspection.
The decadent gown sported a daringly low-cut corseted bustier. A wide silver zipper ran from just below the knees to slightly above the navel. The dress was fully boned, lacing from top to bottom in the back. The costume was clearly designed to scandalously expose the wearer's ass no matter how tightly the laces were cinched.
"That one's open,” instructed the clerk, pointing to a dressing room. “Do you need any assistance getting into that little number, because I could probably leave the floor for a few minutes?"
"No, thank you,” Echo demurred. “I think I can manage."
Echo pushed the dressing room door open. From inside the cubicle a hand reached out, snatched her by the wrist and jerked her inside.
Echo's heart pounded in alarm. Another hand clamped over her mouth.
"Don't scream."
Flynn's eyes sparkled back at her in the full length mirror.
"Jesus Christ, you scared the crap out of me!” she hissed.
"But that's half the fun,” he whispered. “And I couldn't live another minute without doing this."
Flynn's arms encircled her waist, pulling her to him. She adored the warmth of his body against her skin. She combed her fingers through his dark hair, loving the softness of the silky strands as she wound them around her fingertips.
His mouth met hers in a tender kiss. She parted her lips to receive his tongue. The taste of warm peppermint tingled on her taste buds. His tongue tickled the roof of her mouth. As if on cue, her body answered with a rush of dampness between her legs.
"What are you doing to me?” she murmured.
Placing his mouth on her ear, Flynn soothed, “You are dreaming and you don't even know that you are asleep."
It was happening again. The words that had been following her around were coming out of Flynn's mouth. Echo's thoughts raced. Try as she might, she couldn't think of an explanation.
In her excitement over seeing Flynn, she hadn't stopped to consider how it happened that she had just run into him in the shop. Her woman's intuition told her that it was more than a happy coincidence.
"Flynn, I'm ecstatic to see you, but what, exactly are you doing here?"
"Well, lass, school is in session and lesson number one has already begun.” Placing the tip of the riding crop on the neckline of her baby blue tank top, he commanded, “Remove it ... slowly."
"What? Here? Flynn, you have to be joking?"
"No joke, it's for real this time. Are you going to do what I tell you or should we call the whole thing off?"
Flynn had never been so boldly forthright with her. Echo's body sizzled with excitement when he spoke to her in that way. She could tell by the look in his eye, something naughty was on his mind.
"Alright,” she agreed. “But what do you have planned?"
"That, my dear,” taunted Flynn, “is for me to know and for you to find out. Now, remove that sexy little top and let me see what we're working with."
Well, he wanted to see what she was working with, did he? A little semi-private striptease is what he was requesting. I can handle that, Echo decided. Let's see if he can.
Echo pulled the blue tank top out of her jeans. Gathering the hem in her hands she suggestively wiggled the fabric above her waistline. At a snail's pace she revealed her body to Flynn. She paused for a moment when her blushing nipples, protruding from puckered areolas, popped into view. She allowed Flynn one enticing moment to survey her tightening nubs before lifting the top over her head and tossing it into the corner. Her magnificent, plump breasts were less than an inch from Flynn's face as he sat on the bench in the cramped dressing room. The clattering of hangers resounded from the adjoining changing room.
Flynn spoke in a low voice, “I want a taste."
I'll bet you do. Echo leaned towards Flynn, touching a nipple to his mouth. Her stomach tightened as the tip of his tongue fluttered over the tingling bud. She teased him, brushing her nipples across his lips. This was the first time in many months that she had felt the intimate touch of another person. Her body eagerly responded when Flynn parted his lips, and then alternately grasped the nipples between his teeth, tugging them. The stimulation of her hyper-sensitive breasts awakened her slumbering libido. What before had been a dewy dampness between her legs was now a raging river spilling over its swollen banks.
As he wetted and teased her tender nipples, she detected the feather-light touch of the crop as Flynn dragged it upward along her inner thigh, inching it ever northward towards the damp ringlet that was forming on her jeans. When he twitched the crop handle, snapping a stinging rap to Echo's pussy, she found the punishing vibration thrilling. Sweeping the crop against the thick center seam of her pants, Flynn fluttered the tip from back to front. The lightness of the touch tickled Echo in all the right places. Flynn brought the small whip to rest on the zipper of her pants. Another twitch and the crop snapped once more. Flynn wanted her out of her jeans, and she was happy to oblige. She liked this new adventure. She was being bad, and it felt decadently good.
Echo eased her jeans off of her hips, revealing her red panties. The jeans dropped to the floor. Stepping clear of the bunched denim, she kicked them under the bench with the toe of her pumps.
She studied Flynn's face for a reaction. She knew that she was striking. She hoped he thought so too. Flynn's response was so dramatic that it took her by surprise. Flynn dropped to his knees and pushed her legs apart. Placing his hands around her buttocks, he inhaled her musk through the lace of her panties. His whiskers broke through the thin fabric and prickled the skin of her pudendum.
Echo rejoiced. Flynn was on his knees with his face buried in her pussy as if she had just presented him with a priceless gift.
"You are more exquisite than I've imagined.” He choked.
Her pride swelled. Any inhibitions that she still clung to dropped away in the face of the power of her femininity. She moaned, pressing Flynn's mouth onto her pussy, delighting in the warmth of his lips on hers.
Echo quieted her moaning and made a conscious effort to slow her breathing. As she silenced her body, she became aware of the noises outside of the dressing room. The ring of the cash register, the ting-a-ling of the bell over the doorway, and the conversations that drifted in and out of earshot, made her realize that they, too, might be overheard. It was dangerous and thrilling.
Flynn reached over to the door, turning the lock. Hooking his fingers inside the thin straps of her thong, Flynn inched the small bit of lace down the length of Echo's legs. Her lubrication had soaked so thoroughly into the thin fabric that it was as if she was stepping out of a wet bathing suit bottom. The subtle aroma of her musk reached her nostrils.
Flynn rocked back on his heels to free her feet from the panties, and Echo saw that his cock was full and straining beneath the confines of his trousers. If she could only touch him, what would he feel like in her hands? She imagined his tool would be so thick and rigid that she could barely wrap her fingers around it.
She rubbed the toe of her shoe against his turgid member. Flynn bit his lip and groaned. She saw a look of exquisite torture on his face and she understood exactly what he was feeling. She felt the same. She wanted to surrender herself to him—to have his hands and mouth ravishing every inch of her flesh. The only thing holding her back from tearing the clothing from his body was her rapidly wavering self-control.
Flynn placed her foot back on the floor.
"Put your hands on my shoulders. Remember,” he admonished, “not a solitary sound from you."
Echo braced her weight on Flynn's shoulders, and steadied her shuddering limbs. The feathery caress of his fingers tickled the sensitive skin on her inner thighs as they skimmed their way upward towards her heat. Echo's flesh twitched and prickled as his fingers crawled over her body. From her vantage point, she had a view of his thick, glossy black curls. She longed to wrap her arms around his head and immerse her face in his hair.
The Stir of Echo Page 5
