by Nikki Sloane
There was a new message in my Gmail account from Joseph.
I bet you like doing homework, good girl, so here’s a Tumblr account I’ve set up for us. You’ll go through the feed and reblog at least five posts every day that you like. What turns you on. Stuff you want to try. Things you want me to do to you. I’ll watch your posts and we’ll discuss nightly.
Joseph
Holy hell. I’d thought his request for my email was strange, but he explained that as his submissive, I was supposed to give him access to all parts of my life. I’d never been on Tumblr before, but it’s not like I lived under a rock. I knew what it was about. I clicked on the link, installed the app on my iPad, and let the feed load—
Holy shit.
The stepmom had caught me touching myself once when I was watching the hottest porn I had on my laptop, and it was one of those ‘we’ll never speak of this’ moments. Just remembering it made me flush warm and filled me with shame.
That video wasn’t anywhere near as hot as this. The screen filled with short clips, looping over and over. Men and women having sex, going down on each other, or touching everywhere. As I scrolled, some clips were more hardcore, featuring bondage, spankings, or riding crops. Occasionally there’d be a gorgeous, erotic black and white still shot.
Good God. It was overwhelming, and I wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight.
My father’s meeting was running long. I sat in one of the oversized leather chairs opposite his desk and surveyed his office. Little touches of his life were scattered amongst the workspace, more reminders of me than anyone else from our family. Part of that was probably an impending divorce; the picture of Grace was missing. But the other part was my father had let me redecorate his office last year, and deep down, Becca and I had each gravitated toward one parent. Grace had never been rude to me, but her lack of effort or concern about my feelings left me cold.
I was my father’s daughter, all the way.
The afternoon sunlight warmed the office that was done in glass and dark wood. My gaze floated over the bookshelf on the side, which was cluttered. I set about rearranging the books and knickknacks while I waited. If I sat too long, I might nod off, and who knew how long his meeting might go?
I’d tackled two shelves when he rushed in and squeezed me in a quick hug. “Sorry you had to wait.”
“No problem. Who were you meeting with?”
“Programming department head.”
“Oh. Yeah, those always seem to run over.”
My father smiled and sat at his desk, moving his mouse to wake the computer up. “It’s because that man can’t ever stay on topic.” His expression was amused. “Redecorating?”
“Just rearranging.” I continued to shift the accent pieces around to find a better display.
“Before I forget,” he said, “I’ve set your summer internship up. You’ll assist Evans’ group.”
My hand paused on the glass award my father had won years ago for his newspaper. “Do I know Mr. Evans?” I asked.
“Maybe. He oversees customer service. He’s a good manager you can learn a lot from.”
I turned to face my father, who scanned his email, indifferent. Customer service wasn’t where I wanted to be, and it wasn’t what we’d discussed. “What happened to accounting?”
“This is a better position for both of us. You’ll get experience you can’t get elsewhere, and people are less likely to cry nepotism if I put you in a department that’s desperate for help.”
It was desperate for help because the department was a revolving door. Handling customer complaints was hard and thankless. I was staring at a long, unpaid summer.
“Is that okay?” he asked casually.
It wasn’t, but what good would saying so? My mouth filled with the taste of disappointment. My father thought this was best, and it would be hard to convince him otherwise. Maybe I could go somewhere else and search for a paid internship in a department I was happy to work, but it wouldn’t be for the company I wanted to run.
“Okay,” I sighed.
“Great.” He shut down his computer and stood. “Did you decide where we’re going for lunch?”
If I had, would I have been overruled on that, too?
I sat at the empty table, my eyes burning with exhaustion and a headache from the musty books of the university library. I’d met with my study group in one of the quiet corners earlier this evening, and chose to stay after they’d gone to finish my assignments. The temptation to go to bed would have been too great if I tried to study at home, and I’d gotten my work done now, but I wasn’t looking forward to the commute home.
There’d been immense pressure on selecting the five clips to repost on Joseph’s Tumblr account. What if I picked something he didn’t like? How would he judge my choices?
There’d been a clip I’d watched over and over last night, mesmerized. It was shocking, but in my sick fascination, I couldn’t look away. The pretty girl, maybe my age, stood with her back against a wall in the black and white video, her eyes turned up to someone out of frame. She had perfectly-shaped breasts and metal clips fastened to each nipple, a thin silver chain draped between them. As the camera moved left, a man stepped into view and wrapped a fist on the chain, lifting and tugging. Her face twisted like it walked a line of pleasure and pain. Her jaw clenched, stifling back her cry or plea.
She ached, but her expression said she ached for him more.
I wanted to be the girl and wanted Joseph to be that man. I’d look up at him with the same longing and need she had. I felt it now. But I didn’t dare repost the clip. How on earth could I? He’d think I was a freak.
I slipped my laptop into my backpack just as my phone began to ring. My stomach did a flip-flop at the caller ID.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hey.” Joseph’s voice made me feel warm, yet nervous. “How was your day?”
“Good,” I whispered. “And you?”
“Fine. Why are you whispering?”
It was silly, really. It was eleven at night and the place was a graveyard back here in the stacks. “I’m in a library.”
He chuckled. “Studying hard, little girl?”
“I’m done now, actually, but yeah.” I raised the volume of my voice to a hush. “There are less distraction here than at my place.”
“What were you working on? Cost analysis on hearing aids for cows?”
I zipped up my bag and felt myself smiling. “International economics.”
“Sounds riveting.” He paused. “I see you got my email.”
My throat constricted and I eked the word out. “Yeah.”
“I’m not sure you understood the goal of the assignment.”
I felt off-balance. How could that be possible? The good girl in me never underperformed. “I did exactly what you said.” I’d spent forever selecting the perfect clips.
“Yes. I asked you to post five and you did that, but I’m guessing they weren’t what you wanted to post.” His voice was soft and somehow still authoritative. “Either you were playing it safe, or they were what you thought I wanted to see.”
Holy shit, how did he know? I sat in the hard, wooden chair and stared at the shelves of books, unable to come up with a response or excuse.
“Tonight you’ll drink a glass of wine or two, and try again. This time you post for yourself.”
I honestly didn’t know if I could. After what we’d done, this felt surprisingly intimate, like giving Joseph an all-access pass to my fantasies, even the dark ones I shouldn’t have. I drew in a deep breath, struggling to communicate as I knew he wanted me to. “I’m nervous about that.”
“Why? Are you worried I’m going to judge you?”
“Yes.”
His voice grew heavy, like the phone was pressed closer to his face. “No, never. I chose which accounts to follow, so I have a good idea what’s showing up in the feed. Noemi, there’s nothing on there that I’m not into. Fuck, there’s hardly anything on there I haven�
�t already done.”
I pressed my knees together as the clip flashed in my mind, only it was Joseph’s hand tugging on the silver chain between my breasts.
“If you’re only into the tame stuff, that’s fine, but I don’t see that girl when we’re together. You’re holding back.”
“Maybe,” I whispered, although it had nothing to do with the environment, and everything to do with him.
“Let the alcohol help you take the edge off, and try again. I can give you anything you want, all you have to do is ask. Understood?”
It was a million degrees in this library. “Yes.”
“Good. Did you shave your pussy for me today?”
I gripped the edge of the table, even though I was seated. His filthy, crass words knocked me sideways. “I . . . yeah.”
“How do you like being bare for me? Does it turn you on?” His voice felt like it was inside my head. “Did you walk around all day with your panties clinging to your wet cunt?”
Oh. My. God. “Yes,” I said quickly. My face was on fire.
“Yes, Sir,” he corrected. “Turn on FaceTime.”
My pulse jumped to a thousand beats a minute. His command had a strict tone, hinting whatever was going to happen next would most likely be punishment for not addressing him properly. I tapped the icon on my screen, and he came into view a moment later. He was seated on his leather couch in his living room, his face unshaven.
He looked rough until his sexy mouth tugged into a half-smile. “Look at you, college girl. Makes me feel like an old man.”
My hair was pulled up into a messy bun. I wasn’t wearing my contacts, instead I had on my rectangular black frames. True to the stereotype, I had on a baggy Loyola sweatshirt, leggings, and no makeup. “Yeah, I know I look gross—”
“Shut your smart mouth. You’ll wear those glasses next time we fuck.” My insides turned to liquid. “Flip the camera around and show me where you are.”
The chair creaked as I stood. I tapped the reverse icon and panned my phone slowly. What was he doing? A thought flitted through my head and anxiety ratcheted tighter. He was checking to see if anyone was around.
“Take your stuff and go down one of those rows. All the way to the back.”
The tremble in my belly increases when I did as asked, sensing what he was going to command me to do next. I set my backpack on the floor in the corner beside rows of case law books that looked like they hadn’t been touched in years.
When I reversed the camera back to me, he didn’t make me wait another second. “Show me your naked pussy.”
I glanced around, checking for the hundredth time there wasn’t anyone nearby. My face was burning. “This is a public place.”
“Didn’t stop you before,” he reminded. “You agreed to this. You’re mine, Noemi. To have and look at any time I want. Now.”
The lighting was dim with the tall racks of books, but it felt like spotlights on me. I lifted up the bulky hem of the sweatshirt and pinned it against my body with my elbow, then slipped my fingers under waistband of my pants and panties, extending the phone down to my lower body. I pushed the fabric over a hip, then the other side, working the leggings down until they cut across mid-thigh. Cool air washed over my exposed, bare skin.
He could see every pale inch of my flesh, and he made a noise of approval. “Those pants go all the way down to your ankles, naughty girl.”
“What?” I almost shrieked it. A quick flash was one thing, but getting caught with my pants down around my boots was another.
“You pull those goddamn pants down now or next time I’ll spank you so hard you won’t sit right for a week.”
Heat burst through me and I got drunk off being under his control. I set the phone down on top of the books, yanked my pants down my legs until they were bunched around my suede boots, and fumbled to pick the phone back up, showing him I’d done it.
“Put your coat on the floor, sit on it, and get those knees open. I want to see how wet you are.”
My shallow breathing made me lightheaded, so I was grateful not to have to stand any longer, but holy shit. What I was doing was dangerous. The wool of my coat was scratchy against my bare ass, but I didn’t give it much attention. I spread my legs open as wide as the leggings would allow, and balanced the hand holding the phone on my bent knee, angling the camera to show him.
“You’re so fucking hot, I can’t stand it. Touch yourself.”
Sensible Noemi who’d been shut down, screamed back to life. “If I get caught, they’ll kick me out of school.”
“Be quiet and hurry, and no one will catch you.”
Crippling anxiety coursed through my veins. “I’ve never . . . done that with someone watching.”
Joseph’s face disappeared from screen as his phone panned down. His pants were undone, a fist wrapped around his dick, stroking himself. The slow glide of his hand up and down was hypnotic. I moaned, unable to contain my desire at the image.
“You like watching this, don’t you?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Join me. Show me.”
My upper body was pressed against the painted cinderblock wall, and I let my head tip back to rest there when my left hand moved off of my coat, and went between my legs.
I touched my damp, aching body, rubbing a circle on my clit. It felt like an electrical jolt, shocking me incredibly close to orgasm.
“You’re so fucking naughty. Play with yourself for me.” Joseph’s voice was strained. “Yes. Fuck, yes, baby girl. Those are my fingers touching you. Faster.”
“Oh my God.” I trembled at the edge, watching his dick pump faster and faster through his tight fist. “I want that to be my hand.”
“It is. It feels almost as good as your pussy. So tight.”
I couldn’t believe what I was doing. Wild and risky, and letting him see something I’d never shown anyone. I shuddered and lifted my hand to stifle a moan.
“Did I say you could stop?”
His angry words forced my hand back. Two fingers pressed tight to my clit, rubbing back and forth in a furious motion.
“You’re gonna make me come, dirty girl. Is that what you fucking want?”
I stopped trying to analyze everything. “Yes, Sir.”
“What about you? Are you going to come on those fingers or do you need a hard cock now, too?” His harsh words made me burn, the heat consuming. “I bet you could find some guy there to help you. Would you like that? Would anyone’s cock do it for you, Noemi, or just mine?”
“Oh God, just yours. Only yours, Sir.”
The view on my screen tilted abruptly, coming to rest angled up at his ceiling. “Fucking shit,” he groaned. “Fuck!” His strangled breathing while he came was erotic.
Heat built from my own touch, and I was breathing so hard my vision grew blurry. The phone slipped from my grasp and clattered to the floor. The tingling sensation descended on me, and then exploded like glass shattering on concrete. Fast and destructive.
That was us. Delicate, breakable me against strong, unmovable him. I melted into the wall, gradually recovering from his effect.
“Noemi? I can’t see anything.”
I shifted on my coat and grabbed the phone, thankful its case had saved it from damage. “Yeah, I’m here, hold on.” I scrambled to pull my pants back up.
“You made me make a mess. If you were here, I’d tell you to clean it up.”
I shuddered again and pressed one of my cool hands to my heated face before picking the phone back up. “I’d do it.”
He grinned. “I bet you would. What’s your schedule like tomorrow? Can you meet me for a late lunch, three o’clock?”
I fought to calm myself. What the hell had I just done? My racing heartrate reminded me I was alive, and I fucking loved it.
I nodded. “I don’t have any classes after one.”
“Okay, I’ll pick you up at three, then. We can discuss whatever you’ve posted tomorrow in detail.”
His vo
ice was teasing, and yet we both knew he was serious.
chapter
FOURTEEN
JOSEPH
Noemi wore purple-gray nail polish. It was noticeable when she used a finger to push those black frames up to sit higher on the bridge of her nose. She sat across the table from me at the restaurant as we waited for our lunches, her gaze never staying with mine too long. My sub was nervous.
“I can’t decide,” I said. “The glasses are hot, but I can’t see your eyes when they’re hiding behind them.”
She gave me a tight smile. “Can you stop torturing me and just get on with it? I want to know how I did.”
Her desire to do a good job made me laugh. Such an overachiever. She’d been fidgeting on the car ride over, so I’d set a hand on her leg and ordered her to relax. I’d been waiting for her to give me the signal that she was ready to have the conversation.
“You’re not being graded, but since you asked . . .” I gave her a smile that I hoped conveyed how I felt. “I was very, very pleased.”
More like I was fucking ecstatic. Her first series of posts were full of tasteful, vanilla sex. I’d woken up to a different tone today. A woman having her nipple clamps tugged on by her partner, a man fucking a woman in handcuffs and a blindfold. And her last clip . . . All the blood in my body had rushed straight to my cock.
A naked woman tied down to a bench, her ass being flogged while men and women wearing black tie sat in a semi-circle watching the display. That on its own was pretty hot, but there was so much more. The submissive being flogged? She had her face buried in the pussy of another woman, whose cocktail dress was pushed up to her waist. A hand was on the back of the sub’s head, holding her still while the flogger struck.
I understood why Noemi was nervous. It was a huge leap forward for her. For us.
“I want to know,” I said while she took a sip, “which woman you would like to be in that last clip.”
Noemi coughed softly as if choking on her drink. “Uh, which clip?”
“Don’t stall, you know exactly what I’m talking about. The one where everyone was watching.” None of the other clips had sex acts on display. Subtle color lit Noemi’s face and she stared at the drink in her hand as if the ice cubes were made of diamonds.