by Jamie Knight
“A common misconception. Particularly on the part of the hopefuls. There is sex if desired. Stands to reason given the circumstances, though, there is also always a project that requires a second pair of eyes. I thought you were best suited to this one.”
“Thank you, sir,” The humility showed on her face. Not quite a blush but close.
“Pull up a chair.
“Okay,” she whispered.
She accepted the manuscript like a holy relic, laid across both hands. She placed it gingerly on the desk before turning the pages. As though to hold it too long might sully it. A further proof, if any were needed, that I had made the right choice.
Chapter Nine - Vega
Cold sheets greeted me the next morning. The notion, idealistic sure, was to get in a bit of a cuddle, or maybe more, before we went down for breakfast. An ambition made difficult by the lack of Hugo. Unsticking my eyes, I checked that my sense of touch wasn’t deceiving me, but there was only terrible confirmation to be found.
Panic struck slow, making itself known in small stages. First my heart then my breath changing tempo. From reverie to crescendo. I never thought it was too good to be true. Too caught up in the moment. The fact it had been a dream eluding me until that moment of clarity.
“Oh, good, you’re awake,” he remarked.
It was strange what panic could do. I could have sworn I’d heard Hugo come in. Even though it wasn’t possible. Still, being part of a dream made some aspects make a lot more sense.
“I gave Matilda the day off. She didn’t want to go of course but I insisted. She works so hard and deserves some time to herself. Did you know she is one of only three house staff I have left? Came as a surprise if I’m honest.”
It seemed real. The smell of the food on the tray. The slight dip of the bed as Hugo got on.
“You were gone.
“I didn’t want to wake you. You were sleeping so peacefully. Besides, I had to go and make breakfast.”
“Wake me. I’ll go and make the breakfast. Just never leave me like that again.”
I expected to sound angry, or at least upset. But instead, my words were coming out with a cold, steady efficacy that frightened even me.
He looked startled, but his expression quickly softened as my face crumbled. “I’m so sorry.
He took me in a hug I returned ten-fold. My sobs were muffled by the front of his shirt as he held me. I’d lived alone since I got to America. I should have adjusted, but reality was different than expectations. No matter how strongly held.
The first year, I would look for my parents every morning. Then call Maya, gladly accepting the ding on the long-distance fees, just wanting to hear a familiar voice. Maya at least feigned concern, despite the radical difference in time-zone between San Jose and Barcelona.
It had gotten better. Half way into the second year, it came to be just a short, sharp shock until I realized where I was. Moving in with Hugo and getting used to it, even in so short a time had been enough to bring it back.
The smell drew me. Freshly cooked and alluring, Hugo had made a tray of some of my most favorite food. Even if he had watched me cook, it would be quite a guess to get it all right. Maybe it had been a lucky guess, like the last book he had me do before bringing me out. Did I remind him of a particular cook?
At the corner of the stoneware plate, half hidden under it, was a box. Glossy white with a pull off lid. I did my best to ignore it as we ate. Trusting Hugo would go into it in due time. In the meantime I had bacon, cooked to absolute perfection.
“Curious?”
He must have caught me glancing at the box again. No matter how much I tried to resist, curiosity was indeed getting the better of me.
“Open it.”
There was a small rattle from inside the box as I extracted it from its hiding place. A sound that sent my mind running faster as to what it could be. It sounded a lot like metal. Pure sterling silver perhaps?
“It’s a collar.”
“Like for a dog?”
“The usual term is ‘pet.’ It is a sign of trust, nothing more.”
“How do I take it off?”
I ran my finger around the solid silver ring. It looked barely big enough to go around my neck.
“You don’t. Once it is on, only I can take it off. It is designed that way. You don’t have to wear it, I just thought it might be edifying. You’re interested in learning about all aspects of sex, right? Power exchange is one of them.”
“I’d be surrendering my power to you?”
“Only symbolically,” he interjected quickly, “I won’t spank you or anything, unless you think you’d like that.”
“Um, no. To the spanking, I mean. I’m sensitive and it would probably hurt. I’ll wear the collar though.”
The silver was cold against my skin but not unpleasant. With a soft pop, and the twist of an Allen wrench, it was locked in, as was I. At the very least I knew he could never leave me. It bound him to me as much as me to him.
Keeping a hand around the back of my neck, keeping me perfectly still, Hugo caressed his hand down my belly making me quiver. My wet pussy giving way as he slid a finger inside.
“Thought so.”
I reached under the blanket, his hard cock defined in his pajama pants.
“Yes?” he asked, making sure.
“Yes.”
It felt like flying. No sooner had the single, three-letter word left my lips, than I was on the other side of the room, facing the wall. Never once fearing for my safety.
“Bend over, put your hands against the wall.”
The stone was cool and rough under my hands. My eyes stayed locked on the floor as I tried to keep my breath steady, Hugo’s fingers working inside me.
Joy ripped through me, threatening to put me to the ground. It still startled me how hard I was able to orgasm. Not sure if it was me or Hugo. Likely a combination of the two. Our synergy already demonstrating itself time and again.
“This is called ‘doggy style,’” Hugo explained, stroking his cock against my pussy.
My pussy hugged his cock as he eased inside. Holding me by the hip for support. It also had the bonus of maintaining contact.
“Wow,” I gasped, as I felt his pelvis press up against me.
It hadn’t been a fluke. I could take him all the way. Another set of overwhelmed tears threatened to fall, but I held myself together.
It wasn’t difficult. Despite my nerves and the new position, it was mostly a matter of keeping still. Once I was bent low enough for Hugo to slide in, he’d taken control, tenderly fucking me toward ecstasy. As he went and my confidence grew, things started to change. Our bodies were beginning to move together as we worked toward a common end.
It was like poetry. I hadn’t even noticed him putting on another condom, but when he tips over the edge with me, I feel the familiar heat from before.
He pulled out, and I flipped over onto my back, panting hard as I gazed up at him.
“Back to work?” I asked, slowly catching my breath.
“No, you’ve got the day off too. From the project, that is,” he added with a chuckle, “We all need a break on occasion.”
By luck or coincidence, we managed to assemble a second, non-hideous, outfit for me to wear from the meager selections I’d packed, Hugo dressing me from the underwear up. Just for fun, he let me do the same with him.
“Good choice,” Hugo agreed, as I cinched up his thin black tie.
Given the choice of everything the house had to offer, it would surprise no one who really knew me that I elected to spend my day off in the study, plunging as far as I could into Hugo’s immense collection of literature.
It was difficult to tell time passing, cozy in the study. There were no clocks to speak of and no windows. nothing to distract him from his work. It was little surprise then, when a different sort of darkness fell.
Chapter Ten - Hugo
Skeletons
in the yard. The usual phrase used for my home town. A place so small and intimately involved, most didn’t even try to keep secrets. It was just a lot of unneeded stress. The millennium had turned. Many of the old ideas at least gone underground, if not done away with. Things once considered shocking, or scandalous, had become a part of modern life. Like a single woman of 30 having her second child in ten years.
There were no illusions. I hadn’t been planned, very few 20-year-olds thinking that far ahead. I was also kept. Not only kept but loved. As much as a kid could be. A love I felt responsible to pass on. Particularly after Delphine.
It was a grass scented afternoon in the dead of August. Summer expending but still with more to go. The long days of lemonade on the veranda not behind us yet.
“Here they come,” grandma said, the swing creaking lightly.
She seemed interminably old then. I was nearly in my 30s myself before I realized my grandparents must have only been in their late-30s when I was born. Young mothers were a family tradition of sorts.
It didn’t look like much. Just a white blanket Mom held bundled in both arms. Whatever it was, didn’t make a sound.
“Be gentle, honey,” Mom said, handing me the blanket.
The blanket started to move, and I immediately knew what all the fuss was about. That tiny, helpless human entering my life as the person I would become was still being calibrated. I wouldn’t have wanted to meet the me I’d have been without her.
***
The blackened inferno smoldered. Wafts of smoke curling ethereal fingers up the stone chimney by the soft orange light. Time itself seeming to stand still. Vega shifted in my lap. I stroked her hair, coaxing her back to sleep. The work could wait. It wasn’t worth shattering her peace.
I spied The Plague, still on the coffee table. I hadn’t picked it up since Vega first arrived. Getting too occupied with other concerns. Through a daring feat of ingenuity, I got the pristine edition into my hands without so much as a stir from Vega.
It had become something of a tradition. Once a year, during the darkest days of winter, I would re-read Camus’s masterwork of relative absurdism. Just to remind myself of how bad things could get. A more empathetic form of Schadenfreude. Taking comparative comfort, rather than immediate joy, from the misfortune of others.
I read in the sounding silence, unconsciously stroking Vega’s hair. A feeling very much like love stirring in me. Protectiveness at the very least. I wasn’t sure she quite got the idea of the collar. Most think it is about ownership which was, admittedly, one of the possibilities.
Though it can also be about trust and connection. Trusting someone literally with your neck, one of the most sensitive and delicate parts of the body. The basis of the phrase ‘stick your neck out.’ There was an element of marking, but it worked both ways. I was hers as much as she was mine. An idea I liked ever more.
As I read, my hand drifted down. Marking the curve of her ear. The angle of her jaw line. riding at her neck, tracing a line around where the solid, warmed metal met her soft skin. A hum exhaled from her as she stirred. Lifting her head from my lap. I wrapped my arms around her, just to let her know I was there. Resisting the urge to kiss her on the cheek. It still felt a bit too intimate for where we were.
“Morning.”
“Indeed it is. At least I think. No windows, you know.”
“I noticed. What time is it anyway?”
The gold hands stood out against the white face. I’d gotten a watch with lines instead of numbers, because I’d been told it was the thing to do. The first and last time I tried to follow a fashion trend.
“Just after six,” I said, checking my watch.
“There’s a six in the morning now?”
“Yes, for a while now,” I laughed, “You sound like someone who could use some coffee.”
“Good guess.”
Working together like Victorian machinists, the steam whistle of the chrome contraption only adding credence, we got the aged espresso machine to cooperate, dispensing two medium mugs of lovely, Italian style beverage. They might not have the best track-record in terms of military allies, but they sure did know their coffee.
“Yummy,” Vega concurred.
We returned to the study, hand in hand. I didn’t usually like the idea of drinks in there but there was a coffee table and it seemed worth-while to try it. It was also best to vacate the kitchen before Matilda got up. She hated it when I hung around while she cooked. At least as far as I could remember.
The leather creaked softly, the couch coming to feel like a second home. That used to be the office, but things had changed pretty radically since I’d started isolating. Even before finally being told to by the government. Not the first time I was ahead of the curve.
“I have another gift for you,” I said, when the coffee was done.
“What is it?”
“You have to come and see,” I replied, trying to maintain the mystery.
Racing her to the top of the stairs, Vega sat waiting expectantly.
“Close your eyes.”
With a huffing sigh, she obeyed and I went to the secret part of the wardrobe where I kept all the gifts.
It didn’t look like much. A short rectangle, in the same style as the collar box. Bought from the same shop, in fact. They shipped all their merchandise in plain, white boxes. The better to ensure privacy and discretion.
I set the box on her lap, giving her thigh a slight squeeze to let her know that she could open her eyes.
She didn’t bother to ask what it was. Knowing by then that I wouldn’t spoil it and there was only one way to find out. Taking the box in both hands, she slid off the lid. Her expression going from excitement to confusion.
On the red paper inside the box lay a small bottle of lube, which I guess she knew, and a second item that confused her.
“It’s called a butt plug. Now, can you guess where that goes?”
“I-in my butt, I assume?”
“Very good. Yes, that is exactly where it goes, though only with lots of lube and other preparation. Don’t let anyone tell you different, okay?” Even as I said it, though, I felt a pang in my chest.
I didn’t really want to imagine anyone else having conversations like this with my Vega. Even though the contract was only for two weeks, the idea of her with someone else made my stomach churn.
“Okay.”
“Promise me,” I urged, despite the bile rising in my throat at the thought of anyone else’s hands on her.
“I promise.”
“Good. The main use for a butt plug, though it can just be used on its own for fun, is to gently stretch the asshole, getting the receiving partner ready for anal sex.”
“You’re going to…” she squeaked a little, “Put it in my ass?”
“No, not yet. You need practice and preparation before that. I just thought I’d show you how it works so you can start preparing.”
“O-okay.”
“Take off your clothes.”
Nodding quickly, Vega got up off the bed and started to strip. Pants first. Then her shirt. Last to come off were her panties, leaving her standing naked before me, back turned, awaiting further instructions.
I caressed my hands down her arms, Vega relaxing into me with a slow sigh. Leaning in, I kissed and then nuzzled her neck, giving her little licks and bites. It seemed to put her in a much calmer mood.
Taking her by the arms from behind, I guided her onto the bed. Her head down and her ass up, in an ever deeper version of the same position when I’d put her against the wall.
It was subtle. Just the smallest quiver, but I knew she was nervous. I couldn’t really blame her. It was a sensitive thing and she didn’t know what I was going to do. Often, not knowing was worse.
“I’m going to help you get ready,” I said, massaging her ass.
She tensed when I first made contact. But she into the rhythm as I continued to massage her.
> “It’s best if you have an orgasm. Helps relax everything. I’m going to lick you, okay?”
“Lick my ass?”
“No, your pussy. If I do it well, which I certainly intend to, the effects will go everywhere.”
“Oh,” She seemed to relax a little more. At least I didn’t see another tremble like before.
Continuing to massage her ass, I got the other hand involved. Moving down to her pussy, spreading, already smelling her gathering excitement.
Spreading her beautiful pussy, I leaned in and tasted her sweet lips. I took it easy on her. Despite what my id might be dictating, it was better to be gentle at such a delicate time. I wanted her to feel good. While getting her ready to feel even better in the future. It was a training session. Even if she didn’t know it.
She started to respond. Gently at first. Some soft moans. Lightly pushing her hips back, so her pussy pressed that much harder against my lapping tongue. Natural and positive responses, telling me she was getting into it. The thought of putting something up her virgin asshole no longer seemed quite so scary.
She started to shake, an orgasm building in her like an earthquake as she got closer. Taking her around the waist for support, I kept going. Bringing her up to and then through the gates of pure joy, her upper body collapsing against the mattress.
Letting her down gently, I turned Vega onto her side. Bending her legs up near her chest.
Conducting preliminary preparations with a wet wipe, I took her ass in both hands, gently stretching her out.
“Oh!”
“You okay?”
“Y- yes. It just feels really good.”
“That’s the idea.”
I stretched her out again, a bit further that time, bringing out another throaty moan. Her ass was relaxing nicely.
It didn’t seem like it should be possible. Yet, there it was. The well-lubed butt plug, sliding slowly into Vega’s virgin asshole. A slow, relaxing breath as I held her hip for leverage.
“How are you doing?”
“O-o-kay - fuck!”