by Tia Lewis
I replied, telling him I’d count the seconds. I couldn’t believe how happy I was to see him again.
His penthouse sat at the top of one of the tallest high-rises in Manhattan, the sort of place where I had to check with the guard at the front desk to be allowed up. After taking the elevator a staggering thirty-five floors up, I received another text from Preston.
The front door is open. Come in when you get here. I’m in the back room.
I walked down the hall, listening to the sound my high-tops made on the dark hardwood floor. His door was right in front of me. I opened it with my heart in my throat. Why did it feel like I was about to take a step I couldn’t turn back from?
My eyes widened as I looked around the penthouse. It had an open floor plan with marble counters in the kitchen, mahogany floors, soft light streaming down from modern fixtures. And it was huge. I could have spent the whole night exploring.
Instead, I walked toward where I figured Preston would be, my eyes traveling again and again to the outer walls. They were entirely glass, allowing me to look out on the city. I had never seen a home so beautiful.
When I found Preston, he was sitting on a couch by the window. He stood up, taking off his reading glasses. “You take directions well,” he purred as he walked toward me. He bent down and placed a light kiss on my forehead before looking into my eyes. “I was just thinking I should have sent a car for you.”
“Oh, no. That’s fine.” I looked around again. “This place is incredible.”
“Thank you. I designed it myself.”
“You’re good at so many things,” I grinned.
“Yes, I am. You haven’t seen half of them yet.”
A tingle traveled the length of my spine.
“I’d like to hear more about that.”
“I think I can show you better than I can tell you,” he lobbed back, flashing that killer smile. “For now, we have things to discuss. Here, sit down.” He directed me to the couch, where we sat next to each other. On the coffee table in front of us was a Macbook Pro, with a USB drive beside it.
“Since you’re new to the group, you’ll start with simpler jobs. I want to see how much you can handle on a day-to-day basis. When you can handle what you’re given, I’ll give you more responsibility. For now, all you’ll do is keep track of a few accounts for me.”
I waited for more.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. The instructions and all the information you need are on that drive.” He tapped it lightly with one finger. “The Macbook is a gift for you. Don’t use the USB on any computer except this one. I’ve formatted it to my liking. I want to make sure you’re protected, but I want you to be aware of your protection—in other words, update your software regularly.”
“Got it.”
“I’ve set up a new email account for you, too. Check your messages every day. You’re not on the list, so sometimes you’ll receive messages from other members. Reach out to me any time somebody contacts you on this account, in order to verify their identity. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” I grinned, my head spinning. It was actually happening! I was finally in! My own email account and everything. It felt too good to be true.
“Good girl.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Now. What do you know about BDSM?”
“Nothing,” I admitted. “I think I know what the letters stand for but that’s pretty much it.”
“Okay.” He sat back against the cushions. “Then we have a lot to go over.”
While enjoying an absolutely exquisite dinner—I didn’t see evidence of a cook in the apartment, or any mess in the kitchen, and yet the food was freshly prepared when we sat down to eat it—Preston did his best to begin my education.
“A dominant wants to please and protect their submissive,” he began. “Subs want to obey and serve their Dom. Submission is not following your master. It is preceding him, clearing the path, and reporting back to him on any pitfalls or problems you see ahead. It is trusting him to guide and navigate, to keep you safe. Similar to our roles in The Alliance, I have my responsibilities, and you have yours. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand,” I said, listening intently.
“My responsibility is to be patient, forgiving, and understanding. I have to accept accountability for whatever happens with you. I take control of myself and you. Your responsibilities are to be in constant communication with me, to work on trusting me. We will agree to rules and guidelines. Being submissive doesn’t mean being a doormat or accepting every command I give you. It’s all right for you to be cautious. It’s okay for you to tell me no. It’s fine for you to be alone while you wait for what is right for you. I want to help you shine brighter, not take away your light. I want to help guide you and teach you. I want to respect and honor you. I want to help you become your best self, while I become mine. If you have concerns, we need to talk about them. If you feel hurt, we need to sit down and have a serious conversation. If you feel this isn’t for you, you need to tell me. If you agree this is what you want, then I promise to make an honest effort to give you what you need. Is this something that you could see yourself interested in?”
“Yes, I think so,” I said, feeling vulnerable and a little scared.
“It can be overwhelming at first. I hope, over time, it begins to sink in more and seems to be a good fit for you.”
“Yeah, I think I just need some more time to process all of this. Does it bother you that I have no experience with this at all? Does it bother you that I’m… a virgin?”
“Not at all. Does it bother you that I have so much experience?” Preston asked.
“Of course not. It seems like it would be safer to explore something like this with you because of your experience.”
He smiled, nodding.
“I want to meet all your needs. A lot of people assume that being sexually submissive automatically means you’re weak. Just because you’re voluntarily submissive to me doesn't mean you need to be that way with anyone else. Your submission doesn’t need to bleed into the rest of your life in a way that cripples your future. You choose your own form of sexual expression. Sexuality is empowering. You set up the framework and boundaries for every encounter we have. We’ll create a safe word to prevent any boundary from being crossed. If you use the safe word, I’ll stop what I’m doing immediately. We can explore your fantasies in a healthy, constructive manner without diminishing who you are as a person or compromising your beliefs. There are different types of boundaries: soft and hard. The soft boundaries the ones you’re interested in exploring but don’t feel comfortable doing right now. You’ll have the chance to play with those boundaries and find your limits. Hard boundaries are non-negotiable. If you don’t want to do something, I’ll respect that. You’re safe to have your limits.”
It was so much to take in. But in the end, even though I was beyond overwhelmed, one thing was certain: Preston only wanted what was best for me. It seemed like he was going out of his way to make sure I felt completely comfortable and reassured.
“So, now I ask, will you, Sophie, be my submissive?”
I bit my lip and thought for a moment.
“Okay…”
“Okay, what?” Preston asked.
“Yes,” I nodded. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your submissive.”
“Wonderful.”
His face broke out into a smile, and he stood, coming over to me. I stood, too, accepting his kiss with an open heart. And, strangely enough, I was deeply turned on by what he’d described. Not just the physical aspect, which I was sure would be mind-blowing if he were half as good a lover as he was a kisser. It was the whole “fantasy exploration” aspect that really hooked me and got my panties wet.
He beamed when our kiss ended. “I really do think this will be a good fit for us. And I’m sure we’ll find what you like best. We’ll take our time.”
I nodded, still a little apprehensive but looking forward to getting started.
“So… When do we start?”
He threw back his head and laughed warmly. “Not tonight, my dear. You’re such a delight.”
“When, then?”
“Like I said, we’ll ease our way into it. You can’t force this.” He cupped my chin in his hand. “Understood?”
“Understood.” I didn’t have to like it, but I did understand it. He only wanted what was best.
“And now, I think it’s time for me to see you off.” He looked down at my empty plate. “Did you enjoy your steak?”
“Oh, yes. It was delicious. Thank you.” In reality, I hadn’t tasted a bite. I couldn’t remember anything about it. I’d been too busy listening to Preston, taking it all in. Imagining him dominating me.
As we zipped over the bridge, returning to Brooklyn, I couldn’t help expressing what was in my heart. It all felt so perfect.
“I never thought I would find someone who I can connect with like this. In hacking, in… you know.” I blushed. “It’s like a dream come true.”
He was stroking my hair, and his hand didn’t stop when he said, “Oh, yes. All your dreams have come true at the tender age of eighteen.”
I heard the laughter in his voice and straightened up from where I’d been leaning on his chest. “I’m being serious. It’s not funny.”
“I was only teasing.” He gave me a tight hug. “There’s nothing better than a soul that you can connect with on every level.” He gently grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me into a deep kiss. “I really appreciate your honesty, Sophie. I hope you’re always honest with me, even if you decide this isn’t for you. And if you do, I hope we can still be friends.”
I smiled and kissed him again. He looked into my eyes and brushed a strand of hair off of my cheeks. I held his gaze, and he smiled warmly.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “I love the way you look at me, so seriously—like you’re about to get upset. But then all of a sudden your eyes soften. They even turn a deeper shade of blue. And you smile radiantly. Like you’ve been holding onto a secret for a long time.”
“I don’t think anybody has ever looked at me closely enough to notice that my eyes change color sometimes.” I felt like he really saw me, for the first time.
“I’m sure plenty of people have. You just didn’t notice. Maybe they were just too intimidated by your beauty, your intelligence. I can imagine how that would be the case. I’ve been looking for someone like you for a long time.”
We kissed again. I could feel the way his muscles moved beneath his business suit. I wanted to feel more of him. He pulled me in tighter, then released me. “We’re almost at your house.”
I was surprised that we’d arrived so quickly, but of course, I was just too wrapped up in Preston to notice. I looked up at the house, the lights were off. My parents must have gone to bed early—I’d given them an excuse about getting together with a friend from school who was also going to Harvard. They’d been so happy at the thought of me having a friend. It was actually pretty sad.
“Walk me to my door?” I asked, feeling a little shy. But he agreed, and when the driver opened the door to let us out, Preston came with me up the steps. As we made our way up, a light rain began to fall. I looked up, closing my eyes, and Preston grabbed me by the waist to pull me in for a deep, passionate kiss.
We stood there in the rain, kissing, arms wrapped around each other. I felt the rain soaking my hair, running down my cheeks. It was a perfect moment. A moment I wished I could have stayed in forever.
Chapter 12
I couldn’t believe it was happening to me. I was the luckiest girl in the world.
Preston was everything I could want in a man—smart, cunning, handsome, kind, charismatic. He made me feel more exhilarated than anyone else ever had.
I sneaked up to my bedroom, noting the closed bedroom door at the end of the hall. There was no light coming from the crack beneath it. What a relief.
I dropped my wet coat to my bedroom floor, then stripped down to my panties and a tank top. Even though it was past midnight, I was wide awake. I felt the cool air pouring out of the vents, cooling my overheated skin. I looked out the window to see streetlights glowing in the rain.
I ran every detail of the night over again in my head. I wanted to relive every second, feel it all over again. The way Preston brushed my hair back from my face, the way he kissed me. The way his eyes lit up when he smiled. Most of all, the way he looked at me. From the moment we met, he’d looked at me like no one else ever had. His gaze seemed to wrap around me, holding me.
Was I capable of making him feel toward me the way I felt for him? When we were in the car, it had seemed like we were in sync. What could I do to make him feel good, too?
There was only one thing I could think to do, short of asking him. I went to my laptop and searched “how to be a submissive.” I took a deep breath before clicking “Enter”—after all, there was no telling what I was about to see. The most shocking thing was the number of pages that came up. Tips, advice, stories, an entire online community. Well, why was I surprised? There was an online community for hackers, after all. Everybody had a niche.
I clicked a link titled “How to be a good sub” and started looking around. It was a message forum where people talked about their preferences.
The first thing I noticed was the importance of research. Being a sub or a Dom took effort, and therefore couldn’t be entered into lightly. Was I entering into it lightly? I chewed my lip as I read about different kinds of Doms and what they preferred—being called “Sir,” for example.
The more I learned about the community and lifestyle, the less crazy it seemed. Once I read about the safe, sane and consensual aspects of BDSM, it made sense. It was just a way to explore sexuality and live fully. I could get behind that.
I wondered what it would be like for Preston to control me. What would it feel like? Could I handle it? Would I like it? I picked up my laptop and went to my bed, stretching out on my back. I imagined he was there with me, closing my eyes and sinking into the fantasy. I remembered the way he’d touched my skin, the way his cologne turned me on at the first whiff. I felt myself getting wet at the thought.
So how did subs and Doms act together? I read around a little bit. The Dom gave commands to the sub, with varying levels of implied submission. My nose wrinkled a little at the thought of some of the commands—it wrinkled, even more, when I stumbled upon photos of naked subs demonstrating the positions each command corresponded to. To me, it implied that my body belonged to my Dom.
I wanted Preston.
I loved imagining the things he could do to me. I couldn’t imagine ever considering my body his to do with as he pleased, however. It seemed too degrading. I decided to put a pin in that and come back to it later. It was something I wanted to ask him about.
There were subs who got off on discipline, too. Not a simple command or reprimand. Not even a spanking. More like being forced to perform an uncomfortable position for an extended amount of time. In their minds, this was a display of commitment to their Doms. It was up to the Dom to be fair with the sub and not force them to do something that would hurt them.
I understood the whole trust issue. And I trusted Preston—I truly did. The way he’d described how he wanted our relationship to progress sounded completely sane to me. I guessed some people just liked things one way, while others like them another way. I liked mint chocolate chip ice cream. Some people preferred chocolate. Different strokes for different folks, like the old song said.
It was so much nicer to think about Preston giving me pleasure, submitting to his desires, letting him guide me through my sexual awakening. I closed my eyes, imagining him touching me everywhere. My pulse picked up speed, and my breathing quickened as I pictured him looking at my body, kissing it, licking it…
Heat built between my legs, and telltale wetness started developing. I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything unless I got off.
The website I�
�d just read said that dominants liked to be asked for permission. Hmm. It planted a naughty thought in my head. I picked up my cell phone and texted Preston.
Can I play with myself right now?
Within thirty seconds, I got a reply. Yes, but don’t come until I tell you to.
Yes, sir, I replied.
Good girl. Keep your phone in one hand.
Yes, sir, I replied again.
I wondered if he could tell I’d been doing some research, if he knew that the thought of being with him was enough to make me wet and anxious for relief. I slid my panties down and spread my legs, stroking my clit with one finger. I felt the pleasure rushing through my body, nipples getting hard under my tank top. My back arched as I dipped into my wetness, sinking even further into pleasure. I imagined Preston’s body pressing into mine, the muscles beneath his suit and how they’d feel under my hands, on top of me. My finger sped up, my breathing getting faster, heavier as tension grew in my core.
I continued to rapidly rub my clit, moaning in pleasure when two minutes later my phone buzzed.
Now, come.
As soon as the words appeared, I erupted into a full-body orgasm. My legs shook, my face contorting as I felt a rush. I dropped the phone, grabbing the comforter in one fist.
Once I was finished, I fell back.
I gathered my breath, and a few moments later I picked up my phone again.
I just came. Thank you, sir.
His reply made me smile, and I was still smiling as I drifted off to sleep. You’re welcome, baby. This is just the beginning. We’re going to have a lot of fun together.
Preston was right. That was just the beginning.
We met up for dinner three nights in a row, each time in public and each time keeping it casual. He kept telling me he wasn’t ready to be completely alone with me until we got to know each other even better. My parents loved thinking that I had a social life all of a sudden.