Shelter in Place: Quarantine Romance Collection Includes New Novella

by Jamie Knight

  As no cocaine was forthcoming, I figured she meant by the gesture that I should keep this bit of sensitive intelligence quiet, lest there be dire consequences. I took the suggestion under advisement.

  Plunked into a chair, the hair and makeup wizards did what they could with what they had to work with. Softly muttered mentions of silk purses and sow’s ears floated between them. I failed to see what one really had to do with the other.

  Whisked away so fast I couldn’t really see what had happened and ordered to close my eyes so frequently that I decided to save them the trouble of repetition, I was taken into what looked very much like a room-sized closet. It was preferable to a closet-sized room by a long shot.

  Stripped to my unmentionables, the swarm of wardrobe assistants set about building back up, all but sewing me into a black dress that just screamed medieval times. They must have read the bit about my minor in Elizabethan Literature on the “background” section of my write up and ran with it.

  However, the style of dress was more Pre-Raphaelite than actual Renaissance. It was then that I saw what had been done to my face and hair and it all made sense.

  “You look gorgeous,” the perky assistant said, rather stating the obvious, “they’re ready for you now.”

  The studio was quite a bit smaller than I expected. The screen they showed him on looked huge. It took up most of the room in the studio.

  I climbed up into the diabolically comfortable chair upon which all the contestants sat and did my best to ignore the cameras, slipping quietly into my inner realm until I could actually hear Adam’s voice. His sweet, lyrical lilt eased me back to concrete reality.

  “Wow,” he managed.

  I opened my eyes to see Adam’s face at wall-size, his mouth quite agape. It was clear I would have to break the ice.

  “Mr. Leary,” I said, giving a cordial bow, accidentally showing off quite a bit of my rather ample cleavage.

  “It is most definitely my pleasure to meet you,” he said.

  I didn’t think my heart could beat any faster than it currently was. Nor could my panties be any more drenched.

  Chapter Four - Adam

  I never used an alarm clock. I never really needed to. My internal clock was apparently set so well that I always knew when to wake up if I had a set time in mind before going to sleep. It was part of why I always keep a clear and complete journal of events.

  I was also never really the type to be able to just fly by the seat of my pants. “Free time” was the worst part of any visit to camp when I was a kid. I needed structure to be able to do much of anything, partly so I had something to rebel against.

  Something I realized early on was that there was no reason to do what I was told. There was no inherent reason anything had to be a particular way, so I started setting my own schedule to my own liking.

  The balancing of sufficient rest with enough time to get things done was one of the secrets of my success. That and a mostly fish diet augmented by responsible amounts of indulgence.

  The automatic blinds whirred softly, letting in the bright day. I was already on the floor doing my thousand morning sit ups. The gentle sun was embracing me as I did what was required to keep myself in shape.

  Tattoos would look rather silly on me if I got fat. I had done most of them myself with a custom made needle and Kuro Sumi ink. It was the only way to be sure it was as safe as possible and that I got exactly what I wanted. Any mistakes that resulted were mine and mine alone.

  Standing in the mirror, considering what to put where, I had given a moment’s mad consideration to tattooing GOD across my chest, an absurdist tribute to Kenneth Anger’s infamous LUCIFER tattoo. But that seemed a bit too blasphemous even for a lost lamb such as myself. In the end I had compromised by putting ANGER.

  It was no use. I had half hoped that getting Morgan on video link might satisfy my curiosity and allow me to finally get her out of my head so I could focus. In a twist of fate that so often occurs in tales such as this, discovering that she was not only beautiful in a natural way one rarely saw anymore, but also brilliant, did little to quell the fires burning within. If anything, it made them stronger.

  I didn’t often dream anymore. My dreams had gone away, which was quite a fight when I was younger. I’d had a bit of an issue with a nightmare disorder as a teen and decided to just end the whole thing. No dreams, no nightmares.

  It seemed like a pretty easy equation despite the objections raised by the likes of Freud and Gaiman. I hadn’t had a dream in years until that night. The night I dreamed of Morgan. Even a skeptical such as myself could tell that someone was trying to tell me something.

  The music moved my legs like fuel. The connection between mind and body was at a near frightening height. It was the only way to get the blank, the pure white light of peace that invariably came along with a mind truly at ease.

  The process was assisted by the adrenaline already pumping through on the course to euphoria. If only it wasn’t for that damn traffic light. Once stopped, I ran into someone I knew, who was trying to say something to me that I couldn’t hear over the sound of the music that had been playing in my headphones as I had been running.

  “Sorry?” I asked, instinctively removing an earbud.

  “I thought it was you. How long has it been?” she asked rhetorically.

  “Depends on who you are,” I teased.

  “Y-you don’t remember?” Dallas asked, a tear already threatening to cascade.

  “Of course I do, how have you been?”

  “Good, I’ve been good,” Dallas said.

  The hand going to her black and blond, two-tone bob told me she was lying.

  “Everything okay with Jim?”

  “Can’t complain,” she said with a shrug.

  “Can’t or won’t?” I asked.

  “Won’t.”

  “As I suspected.”

  “I-I just, things didn’t really-”

  “Sparrow,” I said, lightly touching her shoulder.

  Dallas flinched slightly at the sound of the name I had used for her for years. Mostly because she was tiny and always walking around singing, like a bird. Still, making up nicknames for people wasn’t the strangest thing I had done during my 'odd duck' childhood. If anything, it qualified as comparatively normal. My obsession with corks, however, remained a mystery even to me.

  “I’m sorry, I just need-”

  “Some coffee,” I said, not meaning it as a question.

  One of the advantages to regular runs was that I got to know the immediate area quite well. Such as the fact that the third best café in the city known for its great coffee, in my humble estimation at any rate, was a scant few blocks away. The location came up behind my eyes like a neurological GPS.

  “Okay, spill,” I said, setting down the two large mugs on the polished bistro table.

  “I guess I’m just kind of in a funk. Most of what I thought I wanted, I don’t want any more and I have no idea what I am going to do or where to start if I did.”

  “I think that’s called the quarter life crisis. Tends to happen after college when cold harsh reality sets in after four or more years of safety in a comfortable cocoon,” I said, drawing on perhaps half of my poetic powers.

  “I’m pretty far out of college,” Dallas observed.

  “It can also happen later. Especially if what one has been going after is based on the expectations of others instead of what they really want to do. Too often what we think we want is what we are told we want,” I said, confusing myself slightly at points.

  “That sounds about right. I mean, I love Jim, but there are other things that just don’t, you know, work.”

  “Like in the bedroom for instance?” I inquired delicately.

  “Well, since you ask, um, yeah. I know it was just the once but I think you might have ruined me. It was just too damn good. And just try finding someone, anyone, willing to do stuff like that who really understands what it's supposed to be like, let alone being a
ble to do it like you can, was impossible.”

  “You were curious,” I said.

  “I-I was, yes. I also knew what I was doing. That’s not the problem. I wanted to know, and boy oh boy did I find out.”

  “Do you regret it?” I asked, prepared for any answer.

  “Not one second of it.”

  “You think you’re honestly into it?”

  Dallas nodded, her face the approximate color of a tomato, too overcome with Presbyterian guilt to actually say the words.

  “Do you think you could, um, help me out?” she asked.

  “I can’t do it. You’re married and so it wouldn’t be fair. Also, I… met someone… and don’t want to do it either.”

  “You met someone?” she asked. “On your show? Like for real?”

  “No spoilers,” I told her, feeling ridiculous for saying I met someone when I had no idea what would happen between us.

  Morgan was really doing my head in; I was never usually like this. I tried to get back on topic.

  “So, yeah, I can’t do anything with you. But I can help you broach the subject to Jim so it’s not a shock. Bring it in slowly and in a playful way. Nothing too intense that would put him in a weird position. No pain, just power play. Approach it like a game and a way to spice things up a bit. He need not know how into it you are and there shouldn’t be any moral issues.”

  And there it was. The flood of tears. The varnished wooden chair scraped against the tile as I went to her.

  “Thank you, Master,” Dallas whispered.

  Her face pressed up against my chest.

  “It’s just Adam now. You're welcome, Dallas.”

  I was not going to call her Sparrow now that I knew she had gotten the wrong idea and hoped for something I couldn’t give her.

  Walking Dallas back to her place, we shared a purely platonic hug before I sent her on her way. These lingering attachments years later could happen. The emotions involved in the power exchange were very real, which was why aftercare was so important.

  Still, some can't completely let go. Especially if it was their first time. Dallas wasn't the first to come back again. I always tried to help them as much as possible, taking at least part of the responsibility. I even kept in contact with some of them, often becoming friends.

  Dallas was a bit different, not least because we were friends long before she asked me to dominate her 'for the experience.' She knew how experienced I was, and I was the only one she really trusted to embark on such an adventure.

  I hadn't been exaggerating when I said there was someone else, though. Morgan had seemed to permanently set up camp in my head and didn't appear to be going anywhere any time soon. Not that I really wanted her to.

  It was kind of nice to feel like someone else was there, even if only in my thoughts. It could get really lonely, only keeping my own company all the time.

  The door closed with an echoing boom, reminding me once again just how empty the mansion really was. I was hard pressed to think of a better metaphor for the hidden pain of being a workaholic.

  Ascending the mountainous staircase, I hi-hoed my way back to my place of work. It was one of the few true pleasures I had when sex wasn't on the table. Or the floor. I wasn't terribly picky to be honest and had become quite versatile with experience. With a few limitations I could also fuck fairly effectively in the shower.

  It was waiting patiently. Quietly humming as it had when I left it. The zoom screen emitted its geometric blue elegance for my eyes alone.

  I had thought about trying to get my own software design for the layout of my magazines patented and sold so others could also witness its beauty, but I ran into trouble finding a computer company that would be willing to even look at something made by someone with no official qualifications. Even though that could also describe the majority of Silicon Valley heavy weights. Dropping out of college seeming to be something of a rite of passage for future dot com millionaires both past and present.

  The proofs were ready. The show was not the only aspect of my business in which I required hands-on influence. I could do it for every publication in the chain. Even I couldn’t remember exactly how many there were at any given time. Yet I still tried to do what I could do and focused on the original two that I started out with.

  Things can come on suddenly. A raise at work. A lottery win. Vengeful crow. An 18-wheeler in an unmarked construction zone. I could almost hear God shaking the dice.

  But this came on even faster than that. My inability to read. I could see the words well enough, but I could not convince them to stay in my head. Such a thing would have taken more focus than I had to spare at the time.

  The keypad leered back at me with mocking encouragement. Daring me to call her. I knew her number. Memorized it. Just in case I wanted to talk to her again. To see her, even though it would be an overt violation of the terms in the contract I had signed with the studio.

  I got four digits in before shutting down the whole thing. I refused to abuse my power. There were enough people doing that already.

  The pain was obvious. My cock was rock hard in my pants, throbbing with a desperate need that was impossible to ignore. It was clear what needed to be done.

  Lowering the front of my Calvin's, I eased the my big, hard cock into the open air, relief washing over me in an awesome wave. Getting into a calm and focused state, I wrapped my hand around my massive shaft, fingers barely making it all the way around. Closing my eyes to let Morgan back in, I slowly started to stroke, working my hand the length of my cock and back down again.

  She wasn't naked, the Morgan in my head. She looked as she did in the studio, sitting in the chair, 'The Hot Seat' as one producer called it, as a clever double meaning. I gifted him with both a dictionary and a thesaurus soon after.

  We were in my room. The one few people ever saw. Technically, it was supposed to be a master bedroom and did, indeed, have a bed in it. But there were quite a few other things as well.

  She stood in the middle of the room, looking at me as I sat on the bed. I was happy just to look at her, at least for the moment.

  "Undress, my pet," I heard myself say.

  "Yes, Master," Morgan said, taking down the dress from the shoulders.

  She wasn't wearing underwear and was naked quite quickly, wearing only the flower crown set on top of her elaborate braid.

  Easing to my feet in no great hurry, I approached, gently lifting the crown from her head and releasing the braid that fell down her back and came to a stop just above her beautiful ass. My gaze on hers, I began the test.

  Breasts first, her nipples were sensitive but able to take gentle pinching. I didn't even try to bite. Her pussy was wet and ready when I got there. My fingers slid in easily. I got up to three to the third knuckle before she made a noise. I was much more confident she would be able to handle my cock. Most of it anyway. Caressing my hand around her hip, I firmly squeezed her ass. She gasped with surprise and delight.

  The slap was sharp and made her yelp, her feet lifting slightly off the floor. I caressed and squeezed her ass, trying to smooth the pain. I had gone too hard.

  Taking her by the hand, I led her to the bed. Sitting back down where I was, I put Morgan over my lap, her bare ass in the air and easily accessible to me. Taking her by her ponytail, winding it around my hand, I held her still as I spanked her again.

  This time was a much gentler, upwards stroke. I gently cupped her ass with each strike and dropped down between her quivering thighs at regular intervals to stroke her warm, wet pussy.

  “Good girl,” I whispered, stroking her ass all over.

  She had taken her first spanking and taken it well.

  Leaving her over my lap, I released her ponytail, using the hand to gently spread her ass. Her breath caught as I gently stroked her asshole using two fingers in slow circles. Suddenly, she let out a long, loud moan, lowering her head.

  Moving slowly, I eased a finger inside her. Morgan let out a long, low moan to let m
e know she loved it. I never would have assumed such a thing. I always wanted to know the limits of a pet before we play, and now I was glad to know that anal seemed like an option.

  Lifting her into my arms, I laid Morgan down on her back at the edge of the bed. Gently taking her by the thighs, I spread her legs wide, pushing them back so her knees were near her breasts.

  I lowered my head as though to pray and stroked my tongue over the length of her pussy, bringing a shudder from deep in her core. I took several more similar licks, bringing her to the edge of orgasm before backing off.

  When she settled, I began again, playing her trembling pussy with a hard, circular motion that had her moaning in minutes and almost ready to come again. Again, I backed off and stroked her pussy until she settled again. Finally, I slipped two fingers inside her, getting in up to the second knuckle and softly fingering her to a body-rocking orgasm.

  Licking her clean, I took several licks on her clit. She was getting close to orgasm for the third time before I backed off again. I thought she might cry. Caressing her cheek to quell her, I stood up between her legs, put her knees over my elbows, and slid the head of my cock into her gorgeous pussy.

  That got her attention. She looked down in amazement as my cock disappeared into her pussy as though it were a magic trick. Her head fell back against the pillow as I started to move, pumping my massive cock into her sweet pussy, making her feel every inch.

  I angled slightly so I was pushing against both her clit and her g-spot. Morgan spread her legs even more so I could go in even further, penetrating her nearly to the hilt.

  When it seemed like she was ready, I picked up speed, going gradually harder until Morgan was screaming her delight with all her heart and soul. Her body fully penetrated by my monster cock while also completely under my physical control, Morgan gave herself over to me entirely.

  Timing it just right, I slipped my cock out of her pussy, replacing it with two fingers, and delivered my load of cum into Morgan’s eager, waiting mouth. She sucked the head after the initial torrent just to make sure she got every last drop.