by Red Phoenix
Samantha’s control over her emotions has improved considerably. I no longer feel uncomfortable around her. Her dogged determination to treat me as a friend rather than her brother’s ghost has cemented our friendship, as far as I’m concerned.
After class, I ask her to join me for lunch. I notice that she still walks with her hands clutched around her books, which contrasts sharply with the women who walked into class just an hour ago. I wonder about this change in her.
“How was your break?” I ask.
She glances at me sideways, frowning slightly, and says nothing. Apparently, that subject is off limits.
“What about you?” she finally asks.
Normally, I would have reacted just as she had. However, things have changed—I have changed. “Couldn’t be better. Spent the entire time on the beach with one of my friends.”
“A girlfriend?” she ventures.
“No, a Russian kid I met in my Microbiology class. You’d like him.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever met a Russian before.”
“He’s entertaining and boisterous—to say the least.”
“Well, if he’s a friend of yours, I’d like to meet him.”
Out of the blue, I’m hit with an image of Samantha bound and gagged, with Durov standing behind her, his ’nines clutched in his hand. I shake my head, smiling to myself.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. Just a random thought,” I tell her. I look at Samantha again, but I can’t see her submitting to anyone. Instead, it’s entirely possible she might enjoy the power of being a Domme.
It might even help break her from her past, the way it is helping me.
I decide to talk to Durov about it before I bring it up with her. It could be that a visit to his dungeon is exactly what Samantha needs. She just doesn’t know it yet.
My conversation with Durov does not go the way I envisioned.
“Absolutely not!” he growls under his breath.
“Is it because she’s a woman?” I ask, insulted that he would dare to think that way.
“Of course not. I don’t think you understand, comrade. It is nearly impossible to get into our secret group. The fact that I got both you and Anderson in is unprecedented. It simply isn’t done because of the risks the dungeon runs with each new member, especially newbies. You have no idea how much I put on the line for you two.”
“I do remember glee mentioning to me how unusual it was.”
“Then you realize there is absolutely no way I would be allowed to bring another inexperienced member into the group.”
I’m disappointed, but I completely understand. “Of course, and thank you for sticking your neck out for Anderson and me.”
He shrugs one shoulder. “Eh, it was nothing.”
“But you just said…”
“I was merely being polite, you peasant. I put everything on the line for you.”
“Oh, there it is…that condescending attitude associated with people born into money. Fucking aristocrat,” I joke.
Durov smirks. “I’d rather be an aristocrat than a peasant.”
“Naturally, that’s what someone born into money would say.”
He socks me in the shoulder. “Mudak.”
“You do know I understand what that means? I haven’t stopped studying Russian, asshole.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Still studying my language, are you?”
“Yes. I want to be prepared for moments just like this, when you make rude comments because you think I don’t know what you’re saying.”
“You impress me, peasant,” he says with a grin, then changes the subject. “If you are serious about wanting to introduce this woman to Domination, I would suggest training her yourself.”
“Me? I barely know what I am doing myself.”
“Sometimes, the best teachers are other students, moy droog.”
“But, wouldn’t you be a better choice?”
“I have zero interest in training others. Besides, I don’t even know the woman.”
“I could introduce you. She told me she’s interested in meeting you.”
He smirks. “Of course she is. Still…I will not take her on.”
“Fine,” I answer, not hiding my disappointment.
“Is it that she’s expressed an interest in being a Domme?”
I chuckle. “Actually, she may not even know what BDSM is—much like myself when you took me to the dungeon that first time.”
“So, what makes you think she would even be interested? Has she been topping you in the bedroom?” he says, elbowing me in the ribs.
I roll my eyes. “It’s not like that.”
“What is it, then?” he asks, looking sincerely interested.
“It’s just a feeling I have. I can’t explain it.”
“Do you have that same feeling with people you think are potential submissives?”
I raise an eyebrow. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
Durov nods. “I felt the same way with you. I could sense it. If you truly feel that way about her, then I suggest training her yourself. As you learn, you can teach her.”
For some reason, the idea of sharing my newfound knowledge with Samantha excites me. “I will take it under advisement, Durov.”
He socks me in the arm again. “You do that, peasant.”
I shake my head in warning. “You certainly know how to push it.”
“It’s a natural ability of any sadist.”
“Well, that is one thing I’m certain I’m not.”
He chuckles. “You are not a masochist, either.”
“No.”
“What are you, then? Do you have an interest in bondage?”
“I do, but not as my sole focus.”
“What is your focus then?”
I laugh. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”
“Well, moy droog,” he says, placing his arm around my shoulder. “You have plenty of avenues to explore.”
“It is my mission to explore them all.”
“Ah…you want to be a jack of all trades, but master of none?”
“No. I want to have a wide range of skills so I never get bored.”
“A pretty lofty goal, comrade.”
“You believe I should specialize, then?”
“No, moy droog. I actually admire you ambition, not that I want that for myself.”
“Why would you? I’m a peasant.”
“Exactly.”
“Durov…”
He chuckles. “What?”
I look at him seriously. “Thank you.”
Clasping me around the shoulders, he says, “No need to thank me again, moy droog. We were square the night you thanked me after visiting the dungeon. I just wanted to make you grovel a little because it amuses me.”
Fucking sadist…
A New Path
“So we’re really going through with this?” I ask when I see Anderson taking out his bullwhip.
He grins as he curls it up and secures it to his belt.
“You’ve found a place that’s secluded, right?” I ask. “The last thing I want is to draw a crowd like we did last time.”
“Don’t worry. Your crush on me will remain a secret.”
“I think that’s the other way around. I didn’t ask to do this,” I remind him.
Anderson winks at me. “Sure, buddy.”
I hit him in the shoulder as we head out the door.
It’s still early in the morning and a fog covers the campus. The cold chill in the morning air invigorates me, and I find I’m actually looking forward to this little experiment in bullwhip control.
I’m grateful that Anderson is not a sadist.
The campus itself is eerily quiet except for a few dedicated joggers. Anderson leads me through the fog to a secluded area in the back of the Engineering building.
“Perfect,” I tell him after I survey the place. Stripping off my shirt, I throw it at him. “Let’s get this over with so we can head
back to the dorm.”
The caress of the cool air raises goosebumps on my skin while I wait for Anderson to warm up with his whip.
He’s careful not to make it crack. Neither of us wants to draw attention to this unusual morning activity of ours. It would only invite questions and speculation, which I want to avoid at all costs.
The fact that I have made it through the first semester and managed to fly under everyone’s radar is a minor miracle in itself. As far as I can tell, Durov is the only one who knows my identity. So, the plan is to keep my head down in college, but still indulge in a little private kink on the side.
I fold my arms in front of me once he stops swinging the whip. I want to give him full access to my back while preventing accidental injury to my arms and hands. My back is easily covered up should Anderson prove not to be as skilled as he thinks. This is his first time using the whip on a human, and I’m not taking any chances.
“I’m ready if you are,” Anderson states, as he moves into position behind me.
“Let her rip.” With wisps of fog curling around me, I wait for the first lash of his bullwhip. When he lets it fly, all I feel is the brush of the cracker against my skin. The lightness of the strike is shocking, especially after experiencing the severe pain of Durov’s ’nines.
“How was that?” he asks me.
Knowing his last test subject was a cow, I answer with a long, “Moooo…”
“Very funny, smart guy.”
“Try it again,” I tell him in all seriousness, wanting something to compare with the first one.
After the second lash, I’m better able to answer him. “It feels as if you are holding the cracker in your hand and brushing it roughly against my skin.”
“But you wouldn’t describe it as a lick?”
“No.”
“Let me try again, then,” he tells me. After several practice throws, he gets into position. I close my eyes this time, not wanting anything to distract me.
This lash is even lighter when it brushes against my skin.
“I’d call that more of a lick.”
“Okay. Let me try to repeat it.”
After several more strokes of his whip, he feels confident he can deliver the same level of impact and says, “We’re done here.”
However, before he calls it quits I tell him, “I’d like to see if you can make it the barest whisper of a touch.”
He looks at me as if I’m crazy.
But I challenge him by asking, “What’s the harm in trying?”
Anderson shakes his head, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t think you realize the skill it takes to deliver the lashes I just gave you.”
“You’re wrong. I do realize how skilled you are, which is why I want you to try an even lighter touch. Any talented bullwhip Master can do what you just did, but taking it up a notch? What girl wouldn’t get excited to experience something they’ve never felt from anyone else?”
Anderson nods. “Yeah…I’m liking that idea.” He glances around and frowns. “But the fog is starting to lift. Are you sure you want to stay out here any longer?”
“Give it a couple of tries. If it’s too difficult, we’ll call it quits.”
I turn, offering my back to him, curious to see if he can impress me further.
Again, Anderson swings the whip several times, attempting to perfect an even lighter flick of the whip before testing it on me.
When he’s ready, Anderson repositions himself and lets it fly.
It is lighter than the last, but I am sure he can do better. “Try again.”
He strokes my back again and, while impressive, it’s still not good enough. “Again.”
Anderson growls in frustration but tries several more times to impress me.
“You’re close,” I encourage him when it seems he’s about to give up.
“I’m giving you exactly what you asked for, Davis,” he growls.
I honestly feel he’s close. “Don’t stop. You’ve almost got it.
I hear him take in a long breath and know he is trying to keep calm in order to maintain his level of control.
He lashes me with the whip, and I barely feel the touch of it.
“That’s it!”
Anderson laughs in relief, then tries several more times until he can consistently “lick” my skin with the whip.
“Damn impressive,” I tell him once he stops.
Anderson has a pleased grin on his face when he boasts, “Sometimes, I amaze myself! Do you want to be really impressed?”
“Sure…” I answer uncertainly, knowing his love of pranks.
“Heads up. This might hurt if I get it wrong.”
“Way to build my confidence.”
“It’ll be worth it. Trust me.”
I’m not quite sure what I’ve just agreed to, but my curiosity forces me to turn my back to him once more as I watch the last of the fog clear away. We’ve run out of time.
I hear Anderson take a deep breath before letting it fly, perfectly placing the lash directly on one of the last remaining marks left by Durov’s cat-o’-nines.
The area is still sensitive, so even the light touch of the whip carries a sting to it, but damn…I am impressed.
Anderson quickly throws my shirt back at me as he curls up the bullwhip. Just then, a small group of engineering students walk by. “Let’s get out of here.”
I look at Anderson with greater admiration as we walk back to the dorm.
“What?” he says, grinning.
“I guess your mama was right to praise you so highly.”
His grin grows bigger. “You know, I struggled not to snap you with a painful lash for pushing so hard, but I’m glad you did. You helped me cross a mental limit I had no idea I’d set for myself.”
There’s a deep sense of satisfaction, knowing I encouraged Anderson to cross that limit.
I think of Samantha again, as we start up the long flight of stairs to our room, and decide to take Durov’s suggestion. Even though the conversation may get uncomfortable, I’ll see if Samantha has any interest in being a Dominant.
What’s the worst that can happen?
I take Samantha to an upscale restaurant because it’s known for its private dining rooms. We’ll need that privacy once I start the conversation with her. I dress up for the evening and offer to pick her up, but she insists on meeting me there, instead.
Once I arrive, I find Samantha is already there, waiting for me at the bar. I notice she’s dressed in the same conservative apparel she wears every day at college.
When she turns around and sees my formal suit, she immediately frowns. “What? I thought this was a simple dinner between friends.”
“It is,” I assure her.
“Well, your formal suit says otherwise.”
“Jackets are requirement at this establishment.”
“Hmm…” she says, her frown deepening.
I wonder at the change in Samantha, and I can tell something is seriously off as we follow the hostess to our private room. I was confident about approaching her with my offer of instruction, but now…I’m not so sure.
“Your server will be with you shortly,” the hostess informs us, quietly shutting the door and leaving us alone together.
The silence between us takes over the room as I stare at Samantha across the table. I feel her anxiety rising as she meets my gaze.
Before my own nerves start kicking in, I tell her, “I have something important I want to ask you.”
“Oh, God…” she mutters to herself. “Davis, I know exactly what you are going to say and the answer is a flat no.”
“You have no idea what I am about to ask.”
Her frown returns. “This private room, the fancy suit, and a nice restaurant…?”
“I’m not asking you to be my girlfriend, if that’s what you’re thinking.” I try not to laugh when I add, “But I’m truly flattered.”
“Don’t you even…” she huffs, standing up. Narrowing
her eyes, she declares with an icy tone, “The last thing I would ever do is date a man who looks like my dead brother.”
“Of course not!”
I can see Samantha’s embarrassed and is glancing at the door as if she’s about to leave. This does not bode well, considering the nature of the offer I wish to discuss.
“Stay, Samantha. I never meant to upset you. I asked you here because I have something important I want to share with you.”
“What’s this all about?” she demands, her hands on her hips.
“I’m not trying to seduce you. That’s definitely not what this is about.”
“Then explain yourself!” she barks, looking as if she’s ready to bolt at any second.
“I need you to sit back down and listen.”
She stares at me warily, not moving.
“Samantha, I would never do anything to intentionally hurt or embarrass you,” I assure her.
She slowly sits back down, but I can tell her defenses are still up.
“Do you remember that Russian I told you about?”
“Oh, my God! You’re trying to set me up,” she cries, standing again.
“No! Sit down and let me finish,” I command firmly.
She sits back down, but folds her arms in a defensive manner.
I can see this ending in disaster, but forge on. “As I was trying to tell you, the Russian shared something with me that I’ve never seen or experienced before.”
Her eyes narrow with distrust, and I can tell she is mentally running through every possible scenario, each one progressively worse than the last.
“Have you ever heard of BDSM?”
“What?”
I may lose a friendship over this, but explain, “BDSM is an acronym for bondage, discipline, sadism, and masochism.”
“I know what it is,” she snaps.
Well, that’s a surprise…
“I even tried it,” she continues. “But, I’ll be damned if I’ll let anyone order me around, especially in the bedroom.”
“I actually agree. I don’t see you as a submissive at all.”
Her nostrils flare. “What are you trying to get at, Davis? My patience is running out.”
I lean forward to emphasize the importance of what I am about to tell her. “I’m learning the fundamentals of Domination and I wondered if you would be interested in learning with me.”