by Sky Corgan
“A Master's responsibility is to train and discipline, to dictate and structure, and above all, to protect and provide for their submissive's physical and emotional needs. It is a relationship between two responsible consenting individuals on the basis that one is meant to lead, and the other is meant to serve.
“If you agree to take on these lessons, you are going to have to be willing to do everything I say, when I say it, without hesitation. I will be your Mentoring Dominant. My word will be law.
“In return, I promise to never abuse you or my power as your Mentoring Dominant. And I will never punish you without telling you why and making you understand and accept it completely. I will provide for you by giving you emotional support and mentoring you with your life choices. I want you to feel like you can come to me with anything, whether it be about our lessons or things that are going on in your day to day life. Everything you tell me and share with me will be held in complete confidence.”
Now it was sounding good again, almost like . . . a relationship. No, that was just my mind being hopeful. Damien Reed had no interest in me like that. This was just taking our lessons to the next level, as he called it.
“Can you give me an idea of what these lessons are going to entail?” I asked.
“The first few weeks will be mostly lecture and obedience training. I'll come up with a contract that we can both agree upon, which will outline a punishment and reward system. We'll set goals and create a timeline for achieving them. I'll also be giving you homework over the weekends that will help to educate you further in the ways of the lifestyle.”
“And once my training is over with? Then what?”
“Then, if you're interested, I can help you find a Master.”
But it won't be you, I wanted to say. My heart sank. He wants to train me to be some sexual submissive and then pass me off to someone else. Perhaps this wasn't something I wanted after all.
“What if I don't want to take these lessons?”
“Then you don't have to.” He didn't look the least bit surprised. “There are still things I can teach you, and we can still explore some of the kink that's used in BDSM.”
“But our relationship won't be as intimate?” The question was awkward, but I felt it was important in making my decision.
“I think we've already gotten pretty intimate.”
It's not the same though—not the same as him actually caring about my life—caring about me. I didn't need to clarify the difference to myself. What he was talking about was sex. What I was talking about was something much more—something much deeper.
“It's a lot to think about,” I admitted.
“It is.”
“So, is there anything else I should know before I make my decision?”
“No. I think I covered most of the bases. All of the important ones, at least.”
“Alright. What other lesson do you have planned for me today then?”
Damien stood, turning to the chest of drawers to set his clipboard down. The notes he had taken were few and far between. I think tonight it was supposed to be my turn to jot things down, but I found my notepad blank.
“Did you know I have a pool?” he asked. Then I watched his fingers grip the bottom of his T-shirt, his hands crossed one over the other, pulling it over the defined muscles of his back like a sexy stripper.
I gaped, and an onslaught of cheers came from my subconscious. Yes! Take it off! Take it all off! I've been wanting to see you shirtless for so long—completely naked, for so long.
“Backyard. Never,” I stuttered out, and then felt like a complete idiot.
“What?” He turned, giving me a quizzical look.
My eyes stared at his broad chest, tracing the fine smattering of manicured hair down over his tight abdominal muscles. It took everything in me not to hit my knees and drag my tongue across the groove of the V that led into his pants. He looked so delicious I thought I might orgasm just from gazing upon him.
I cleared my throat. “No. I didn't. You've never taken me into the backyard before.”
Now he was sitting back in the chair, pulling off his shoes and socks. The pants were coming off next, and I couldn't wait to see everything beneath them.
He paused, looking up at me a bit annoyed. “Unless you like swimming in your clothes, I recommend getting undressed.”
“Oh . . . yeah,” I stammered, trying to pry my eyes away from him long enough to start taking off my own clothes.
When we were both naked, I followed him out of the room, watching his ass as he walked. It was a nice round ass, firm and squeezable. I wanted to make grabby hands at it, but if he caught me, I knew I'd die of embarrassment.
Damien led me through a sliding glass door out onto an expansive patio. The pool wasn't the biggest I had ever seen, but it was crystal clear. I couldn't help but wonder if there was a sexy pool boy who came to take care of it. Maybe they could both bang me. Oh Chey, you're absolutely horrible. What has this man done to you?
Completely out of character, Damien ran to the edge of the pool and did a cannon ball into the water. I couldn't help but laugh. If there was a playful bone in his entire body, this was the first time I had ever seen it.
“Come on in.” He waved to me with a smile, looking absolutely yummy with water droplets glistening off of his skin.
Unable to contain myself, I jumped in after him. Almost as soon as I resurfaced, he was pulling me into his arms, kissing me passionately. We kissed and groped and cuddled and smiled and laughed. It was like Damien was a completely different person. . . a person I could see myself falling in love with.
When the excitement finally died down, I floated in his arms, looking out over the horizon. All that could be seen around us were fields and forest and the setting sun. It was incredibly romantic, like something straight out of a movie.
My heart drummed in my chest, stirred by the warm feelings that consumed me. We gazed into each other's eyes, and all the hardness was gone from his. He wasn't a teacher or a Dom. He was just a man.
I moaned softly as he leaned in to kiss me, shooting sparks through my entire body. For once, he looked like he was truly enjoying himself—truly enjoying being with me. Not in a sexual way, but on a more personal level.
The moment was short-lived though, and soon he was pushing me up against the side of the pool, his thick erection pressing between my legs. Romantic Damien disappeared, and carnal Damien took his place. I liked them both, but a small part of me wanted romantic Damien back.
“Sex in the water is tricky,” he explained, urging me to spread my legs for him. I did, and he nudged his tip at my opening, gripping the edge of the pool to steady himself as he pressed inside.
It was one of the stranger sexual encounters I had experienced. Damien kept his body against mine, thrusting lightly. Our buoyancy threatened to separate us, but he held on tightly to the pool ledge, trapping me against the wall. The best part of the experience was the friction his pubic bone made against my clit . . . and the fact that I finally had him naked. I draped my arms over his strong shoulders, craning my head back and enjoying the ambiance, enjoying having him inside me, enjoying the cool water coursing around our coupled bodies.
He leaned forward, kissing my throat, and I purred at the touch of his lips. The kiss was deep, wet, and with lots of tongue. Then his teeth came out to play, biting into my delicate flesh. I winced, feeling the pinching pain crawl up my neck. It was a good kind of pain though. If it weren't for thoughts of Chase playing in the back of my mind, I would have wanted him to mark me. As it was, I hoped he let up before he caused a bruise.
“Easy now, tiger,” I whispered, and he instantly withdrew, kissing a trail up to my ear.
“If you accept my lessons, easy will be as hard as I make it.”
The dominant sound of his voice sent a pulse of pleasure straight to my clit, and when he thrust forward, it was all it took to set my body into overdrive. My muscles clenched tightly around him as the wave of my orgasm
played through, and I groaned shamelessly, fantasizing about what it would be like to be owned by him completely. These sexual romps were a delicious taste, but my body secretly wanted more—my heart secretly wanted more.
He picked up the pace, pumping so hard that water splashed over the side of the pool. I could feel his rigid manhood inside me, spreading me wide, as if it was getting harder by the second. My mouth was gasps of pleasure, listening to his heavy breathing. And then warmth flooded between us, and I knew he was coming. The feeling was absolutely exquisite, and I allowed myself to be lost in the bliss of it, lost in him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
My walk of shame was wrought with emotion. What I had experienced with Damien in the pool was unlike anything I had felt from him before. It was like he was having a hard time keeping his calm demeanor, as if the light of his humanity was finally shining through.
By the time we reached the front door, Damien the teacher had returned. He handed me another questionnaire, an entire packet with several pages stapled together, and then sent me on my way, telling me that if I decided to take him up on his BDSM lessons, he'd want it returned to him by the following weekend. Unlike with the first questionnaire he gave me, I didn't have to wait in wonder of the contents of this one until I got home. As soon as I stepped into my car, I looked over the paperwork. Some of the questions I thought should have been on the original questionnaire, though most of them, not surprisingly, pertained to BDSM.
Feeling awkward for sitting in front of Damien's house for so long, I set the questionnaire aside and put my car in drive, heading home. When I got there, I did a bit of homework and then thought about working on the questionnaire for a while. It would be wasted time if I decided BDSM wasn't for me though, so I ended up leaving it for another time. For now, I needed to figure out if lessons in BDSM were something I really wanted. Damien had indicated it would be a big commitment, but the perk was that I would become closer to him.
Part of me wished he had never extended the offer. I had things pretty much figured out inside my head. The plan had been to string Chase along until I got my fill of Damien, then end my lessons with Damien and become a committed girlfriend to Chase. If Damien and I took things to this next level, I wasn't sure if I would be able to follow through with that plan. It sounded like training to be a submissive was going to make me committed to Damien, in a sense. Then again, he had talked about passing me off to someone else once the training was complete. I wasn't sure how much I liked that either, though it did provide me with a convenient way out. Maybe I could just stick around until my training was over, however long that would take.
I licked my lips, thinking of all the kink play Damien had enticed me with. He had said we could do it even if I didn't want to learn about BDSM. That was a plus. Still, I craved to know more about him, craved to be closer to him.
In truth, I hadn't made up my mind when I arrived at his doorstep for my lessons the following day. I was torn between doing the logical thing or the greedy thing. To be logical, I would steer the same course as I had been, deny the offer of BDSM lessons and enjoy the pleasures of Damien's body while they lasted. The greedy path would have me take him up on the offer, allow myself to get closer to him, and probably have my heart broken in the process. Somehow, either choice felt like it would lead to a losing situation.
After a causal greeting, Damien asked if I had made up my mind. His face was deadpan as normal, as if he didn't care either way, but I could sense that wasn't the truth. Or, at least, part of me hoped that wasn't the truth. I wanted him to want me desperately.
“Can I have a bit more time to decide?” I asked, scrunching my face in fear he'd be upset.
“Well, at least I'm glad you're not taking the decision lightly,” he said, but I could sense disappointment in his voice.
“Yeah. It seems pretty intense.”
“It can be.”
“So, what's on the agenda today?” I asked.
Usually, when I came inside, he led me straight to the classroom. Today, he seemed to want to linger in the doorway.
“Dinner,” he replied finally.
“Dinner?”
“Yes, dinner. I thought we could make dinner together.”
“Are you teaching a cooking class now too?” I teased.
“If you don't know how to cook, then I suppose you could think of it that way.” He smirked, leading me to the kitchen.
As was the rest of Damien's house, his kitchen was absolutely gorgeous, with marble counter tops, stainless steel appliances, a large island in the middle with a sink, and a rack of expensive pots and pans hanging above it. To be honest, I thought that cooking had been a clever euphemism for something kinky until I saw him start pulling vegetables out of the refrigerator. He set me up with a cutting board, a knife, and bags full of bell peppers, red onions, and broccoli.
“Hope you like stir fry,” he said before disappearing around the corner.
I scowled. For being such a smart guy, he seemed to have no idea what the word together meant. With a sigh, I got to work chopping an onion.
While I worked, I stared forward blankly, analyzing Damien's strange behavior. Had he seriously planned for dinner to be part of tonight's lesson? Maybe he was too busy during the week to come up with a full weekends worth of lessons. That didn't make sense though. For heaven's sake, he only saw me for about two hours on the weekend. It couldn't possibly be that difficult to come up with a curriculum. Besides, if Damien was nothing else, he was meticulous. I highly doubted he would have forgotten to plan something for us to do. He was a creative guy. The well couldn't possibly be running dry already.
“Ouch,” I gasped, dropping the knife and looking down at my finger. At first, I thought I had just nicked myself, but then I saw the deep gash, and my head went all fuzzy.
Blood dripped from the wound in rapid succession, painting the cutting board red. Desperately, I clutched at the sides of the counter top to keep myself from falling, but everything around me was going white.
Damien appeared at my side. He took one look at my finger and rushed to grab a towel to wrap around my hand.
“Come on,” he said, helping me to my feet. “We need to get you to the minor emergency clinic.”
I leaned against him as he walked me out to his Corvette, trying not to concentrate on the injury. By the way that my blood was soaking through the towel, you would have thought I hit an artery. It felt and looked far worse than a minor emergency.
Thankfully, the clinic was just down the road. Even if I had lost an entire finger, we got there in such a short time that they probably could have sewn it back on.
Damien stayed by my side, handling most of the interactions. When the girl at the front desk saw the blood-soaked towel, she brought us back immediately. Now that the initial shock of slicing my finger had worn off, I was becoming increasingly afraid at the thought of having stitches. I had never gotten them before, and feared it would hurt worse than the cut itself.
“You'll be fine,” Damien tried to assure me.
“Maybe they can use those liquid stitches,” I said, hopeful.
“I doubt it. You cut yourself pretty badly.”
A strange thought came to me. “Aren't you worried about people seeing us together?”
“No. Your health is far more important to me than what anyone might think.”
“But what about your job?”
“Don't worry about it. It's not important right now. The only thing that's important is making sure you're taken care of.”
My cheeks might have flushed, but it felt like I had lost too much blood for that to happen. Did he really mean what he said?
Before I had time to ponder it any longer, a nurse walked in to take my vitals. When her eyes landed on Damien, she blushed, and the slightest twinge of jealousy ran through me. Was I really so possessive over him that I didn't want other women looking at him? He wasn't even mine. Besides, he was incredibly attractive. It was hard not to want to look a
t him.
After I was presumed very much alive, though badly injured, the nurse left, and the doctor came in shortly afterward to stitch up my finger. I felt like I might faint when I saw the needle she planned to stick in my wound to numb the pain. Tears welled up in my eyes, and it took almost everything in me not to jerk away.
“I'm scared,” I told her, holding back sobs as if I was a small child.
“It will only hurt for a little while,” she said.
When she first approached my hand with the needle, I jerked away.
“You're going to have to stay still,” she told me.
Damien stood and came to my side, taking up my other hand in his. “Look at me, okay. Everything is going to be alright.”
I looked at him and nodded, trying to concentrate on the feeling of his large hand engulfing mine. His fingers were so warm . . . and so were his eyes. Gazing into them, I felt completely lost, and the rest of the world melted around me.
“Stay with me and hold my hand while they do the stitches,” I said.
“I'm not going anywhere.” He gave my hand a gentle squeeze, and I swooned. I wanted to kiss him, and for him to hold me, and for us to just be together. This wasn't the time or place for any of that though, so I endured my tortured doctoring and swallowed my feelings until it was all over.
Damien picked up what my insurance wouldn't cover and then took me to the grocery store to fill my prescription for pain medication, which he also paid for. While we waited for the prescription to be filled, we went through drive-thru to get something to eat.
“Let me pay for this,” I offered.
“I got it. Don't worry about it,” he insisted.
I slumped in my seat, feeling absolutely useless. Not only had I ruined his dinner plans, but I had also cost him a fortune. If he never wanted to see me again after this, I would understand.
