by Mina Vaughn
I could paraphrase my last sub, Frank, with his first “original scene” e-mail to me.
“U r 2 pretty 4 a guy liek me, so I cant wate for u to smack me around. Well pretend were from the old west and your an indian and im your cowboy lover, only not like those gay guys.”
I was surprised I let him lay a hand on me after that grammatical vomit, but he had a really nice ass. And yes, I did smack him around a little, since that was dictated in the scene. I gave him one more chance, and the next week when his e-mail said, “ok ur a doctor and ima football player with a groin injury,” I was out.
Then there was poor, sweet, harmless Bobby. God, I had no idea why he wanted the things he wanted. He always ended a scene sobbing. I used to just shake my head at him in bewilderment. But, that man ate out every night like he was a food critic, so I didn’t toss him overboard for about a month.
But William seemed different already. Intelligent, mysterious, and even a little old-fashioned, which could be fun. Just to keep him hanging, I didn’t respond. I’d let him wait to see my reaction in person.
And the day from hell just kept getting longer. We had a lockdown during one class so that the police dogs could sniff book bags for weed. The kids in class were all tweaking—they either thought there was a terrorist in the building, or that they’d get caught with their stash.
And I was stuck in the reject room. We have this one shitty classroom that teachers rotate using because nobody wants it for the year. So, once a month, everyone has one class there. It has no windows, no Wi-Fi, and no computer, so I was without any kind of outlet for the last period of the day.
And it was “ice cream sundae Monday,” so the kids were amped up on whatever goodies they had adorned their scoop of Rocky Road with.
Too many cruddy variables for one day—something good had to come my way. Please, God, let there be justice in this world. In the form of a naked man in my bed within an hour.
“Miss Norrel, can we play Hangman?”
“Um, what?” I asked, blushing. I prayed none of my students were telepaths or tech-geeks with mind-reading iPhones. Glancing down at my sub planbook, I saw that I had scrawled a few notes on scenes I’d like to do with William. I folded my personal notebook shut and pretended I was doing legitimate teacher work.
“Hangman.”
“Go for it,” I said, waving my hand at the board. The bell was a good twenty minutes away, and most of them had done their homework, so I went back to picturing William’s body. His abs, his butt, and that glorious V that swimmers have.
I wonder if William was a swimmer, I mused as the kids played Hangman and I managed to keep all my drool in my mouth until the bell rang.
I blew through every yellow light on the way to my house.
And when I arrived home, justice was served in the form of his SUV parked neatly next to my spot. It looked cozy there, like it belonged.
I walked inside and the house was completely quiet. I knew he would be in the bedroom, so I headed into my bathroom to get changed into whatever he had picked out for me. I pushed the door open, and hanging on the shower curtain was an array of some of the loveliest garments I had ever seen.
Green and navy blue silk and satin dripped to the floor in varying degrees. Nighties both long and short hung on shiny fabric hangers. Sinuous robes hung over my towel racks. An arrangement of bras, panties, and hose sat neatly in a white wicker basket. It was nearly an entire store display, right in my home. Why so many items? And how did he know my exact size? Just as I ran my hand down the smooth material, I noticed a note, penned in exquisite handwriting.
“Reveal to me only what you choose. Show me only what I deserve to see. I await.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Cerise
Reveal to me only what you choose. Show me only what I deserve to see. I await.
I smiled at his wording. He was being very careful with me, as he should. Every sub understood that his Domme should set the pace, and even though he knew we were entering a sexual relationship, he didn’t want to assume too much.
Good.
This move empowered me and put me in the right mind-set. I couldn’t be swooning and falling all over him—what kind of message would that send? They say in the teaching world, “Don’t smile until Christmas.” Essentially, if you were a softie from the start, they had full rein to walk all over you.
Remember not to smile, remember not to smile, I kept telling myself as I got into character—Muffy the Vampire Spanker.
I selected the navy bra and panties, and slipped the lacy robe over them. Instead of the slippers provided, I put my black patent leather pumps back on—the ones I wore to school. I unbound my elbow-length hair from its ponytail, and stepped out of the bathroom.
To find dozens of white candles leading to my bedroom. My hallway was lit with an almost supernatural glow. My brow lifted in surprise. My vampire was quick and quiet, since I didn’t hear him do that while I was getting changed. Better not be losing my edge, I wondered, as my shoes clicked along the hardwood leading to today’s pleasure.
He was neither sitting on the bed nor lying on it. He leaned against my wall, looking at me with a grim face. A serious, beautiful, godlike visage. A shiver of fear ran down my spine as I prepared to encounter a vampire.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me,” he said, voice low and velvety. “My thirst for punishment outweighs my desire for your blood, but I must say, looking at you is making me hungry.”
He bit down on his lip and my body began to tingle warmly. His eyes absolutely consumed me. I never felt so utterly vulnerable from such a simple stare. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks as his eyes followed the curves of my body beneath my robe. It didn’t matter that it was knotted shut—I could sense his eyes under it already. Perhaps he could see beneath it, with his vampire sight.
I went over to my bag of tricks and pulled out a length of rope. “I am aware your thirst is sated, but I’d feel better if you were bound,” I said hungrily.
He nodded in assent, relishing my choice. “Of course, Mistress Cherry. You are a brave Domme indeed to take me into your service. I await your punishment.” He wet his lips in anticipation, and I wet mine, so to speak—only the ones he couldn’t see. Yet. Hee hee.
Get a hold of yourself and go for it, Bizzy nearly shouted at me.
“Shhhh!” I hissed, although I didn’t mean to do it out loud.
William looked at me quizzically. God, I must look completely schizo.
When I was in Domme mode, Bizzy called the shots. Right now, she was mad as hell that I was taking my time.
I pulled the chair out from my desk and motioned for him to sit. He complied easily, even holding his hands behind his back so I could bind them easier. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, so unfortunately I didn’t get to feel the icy chill again . . . yet.
“Have you ever punished any of my kind before?”
“Too many times to count,” I replied. “Although I haven’t decided exactly what to do with you yet. I need to know more.”
I wrapped the rope around his wrists, then torso, and stopped there. No need for the legs today. He looked gorgeous sitting in that chair, motionless, completely and utterly at my mercy. His head was tossed back rapturously, enjoying each of my tugs at the rope. God, the things I am going to do to this man.
“Tell me about yourself, vampire.”
“I believe everything you need to know is on your bed right now, but I’d be more than happy to recount the history of my life,” he said, voice still soft and guarded, eyes again downcast.
I looked over at my bed in wonder—I hadn’t noticed anything in the room but him. There, scattered across my comforter, were dozens of leather-bound journals. I rifled through the stacks, amazed.
There was thorough research . . . then there was this. I tried in vain to keep in character. No su
b had ever shown this much effort in a first scene.
I looked over at him and he smirked at me, clearly pleased by my reaction. “Do you find my paperwork to be in order, Mistress Cherry?” he asked, almost humorously.
“You must have lived a very lonely life to have written so much,” I said, hiding my initial awe with simple curiosity. I strode over to him and caressed the ropes that bound his muscular chest.
“Yes, Mistress,” he said, his eyes burning into me. “Too lonely.”
“How many people have you killed?” I asked, scraping a long fingernail across his jaw.
He hung his head. “Too many,” he said, and looked back up at me desperately. “Please, help me. I need you.” His tone was husky, and his throat was thick with desire. And I was nearly panting.
“I’m thinking these ropes are far too restrictive,” I said. “Mistress wants you to move freely.”
My hands worked busily to get him out. I wanted him, just him. No ropes, no bindings, just his body and his voice and his dark secrets.
“Mistress,” he said, still seated in the chair, hands on his thighs, “would you like to spank me now?”
I stood over my toy box motionlessly, wondering what my next move should be. Should I paddle him for making a suggestion or do I sit on his face? I didn’t want to delay my pleasure, but he did expect punishment.
But, dammit, I wanted to come.
And then, one more time he spoke, low and slow, and his voice was my undoing. “I’ve been very bad.”
My mouth spoke before my mind could object. “Pleasure me now, vampire,” I moaned, hands grazing over the silk robe, unknotting the tie desperately. “I’ll punish you another time.”
He hesitated for a moment. “But, I need to atone.”
“You can atone by giving out pleasure since you’ve dealt so much pain.”
He nodded in understanding, although he did look slightly disappointed. “Well, in that case,” his voice continued to invade me, “I brought a few helpers.” He reached into a small black bag I hadn’t noticed, and pulled out a long white feather quill and moved toward me with need.
William ran the feather down my neck and between my breasts. I shuddered. “I don’t deserve to touch you yet, Mistress,” he whispered, breath tickling my ear.
I licked my lips. “That’s right. You don’t.”
Gripping the bottoms of the sleeves, he slid my robe off, revealing the bra and panties set he had bought me. I had yet to feel his touch.
“Lovely,” he mouthed, almost afraid to spoil the enchantment of the moment that had settled between us. I sat on the bed, and lowered my head to the pillows, rapturously. I was completely in his thrall.
I had read Dracula back in high school; I knew about this sort of thing. Vamps could hypnotize and seduce, and I was so far under his spell, I was in China.
He pulled out one more item from his bag and mounted the bed. I wondered if he had changed his mind about not touching me.
Then the feather was back. The light, flickering touch licked my skin as he traced swirls of desire across my torso. I arched my back, moaning, giving in to the soft feeling. He used it to trace my lips and stroke my jaw and I swore I saw God.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Please me, William. That’s why you’re here.”
And that was before I heard the buzz-buzz of item number two—a vibrator.
It was a simple model, just a Magic Bullet, but my eyes lit up at the prospect. I wasn’t just going to get romantic feathery touches—I was going to get buzzed.
His eyes glowed wickedly as he taunted me. “I am amazed you want a creature like me to please you,” he growled. I demanded he continue. Whether or not he could tell, my body and voice were no longer my own; they were slaves to him. My vampire hypnotized me into his dark, velvet grasp.
He slid the quivering object up my thigh, careful not to touch me with his damned flesh. My body writhed, desperate for contact.
“Tell me about your other Dommes, and how they didn’t satisfy your need for redemption,” I said, testing him.
He began drawing on my thighs with the vibrator, almost writing out his answers on my skin. His gaze was intense—I could see he wanted to do his job thoroughly. “I could never call any of those women my Domme,” he said, trying to ignite my body with his eyes. “They never gave me the chance. They weren’t as brave as you.”
“I find it hard to believe your charms didn’t make them melt,” I purred. “You have me rapt. It’s not just your vampire powers, you know.” I arched my back, urging him to proceed with the small vibrating object in his long fingers.
So. Long.
He moved the Bullet to the apex of my legs and I shuddered. He spoke again. “What do you see in me?” he asked. I bit my lip and considered my answer.
He slid the vibrator up and down me like a paintbrush. I could barely keep myself together. He was an artist.
“You’re intelligent and well-spoken,” I said between gasps. “I need a man who can keep up with my voracious intellectual cravings.”
“Do you have any . . . other cravings?” he asked, and made a motion to remove my panties.
Thank God my vagina had only lips and no vocal cords. She would have completely given me away. “Remove my clothing, William. All of it,” I commanded sharply.
Pinching the ribbons on either side of my thong, he unraveled the bows and slid the garment down my legs slowly, eyes memorizing each inch of my skin.
I spread my legs, displaying the prize he was working for. “Make me come, vampire.”
He smiled devilishly, and for a moment, he looked more vamp than human. He was too beautiful, and his indigo eyes were too shadowy and dangerous.
“My pleasure,” he said, and went promptly to work. This time, his left hand used the feather, and his right used the vibrator.
He hovered over me, a dark demigod. He used his instruments on me and made my body positively sing. I bit down hard on my lip as I came, nearly drawing blood. Which would have been a bad idea.
My body shouted William, every part. My mind was utterly consumed by the tickling feather, the impossibly fast vibrations, and the eyes that seared so deep they could leave scorch marks.
My chest heaved for a moment, and I tried futilely to control my breath. I sat up smoothly, and asked him to kneel on the floor.
I stood over him, naked. He looked up at me reverently, but did not speak. Good.
“The scene is over. You have pleased me very much today,” I said, and raked my nails through his hair, gripping the ends slightly as I enjoyed the smooth texture. For a moment, I considered pushing his face between my legs, but I decided to wait. “My good boy deserves a treat,” I teased, still unsmiling. “What would you like from your mistress?”
I was prepared to give him anything he asked for, and Bizzy sure as hell was hoping to see some more of his delicious body. Hell, any of his body.
“I do have one request, Mistress Cherry,” he breathed.
I waited.
“I’d like for you to keep me,” he said quietly, voice somber and almost childlike. His expression had changed. He . . . softened. Suddenly, all the refusals he had faced by other Dommes were physically visible on his face. It was as though they had each tattooed REJECTION across his lovely countenance.
I straightened my posture proudly, and cupped his face in my hand. “As long as you serve me properly, I will take care of you,” I said, dodging his answer slightly, but still praising his performance. He leaned into my gesture.
It was true, though. The laymen out there think that Dommes are just about power—about making men feel lower. Nothing could be further from the truth. A good Domme cares for her submissive—it is a beneficial relationship for both, if done right.
But nobody had been right for me. Every man thus far had been too selfish, or too self-deprec
ating, or too needy, or simply not what I wanted.
Now here, kneeling in front of me, was a man who desired exactly what I wanted to give.
“Obey me and keep me satisfied and I can give you what you need,” I whispered.
He said nothing, just nodded contentedly. I dressed and offered him dinner.
“I know in your contract that you specify dinner after our scenes,” he said hesitantly, “but I’d rather not eat. I will stay and talk if you like.”
Truthfully, I wasn’t disappointed. There was a part of me that didn’t enjoy the “getting to know you” segment of the day. It had gone too far with Brent, and I didn’t want anything to screw things up with William just yet.
“You may leave,” I said simply. “I look forward to your visit tomorrow. You set the bar high, William.” I praised him, placed my hand on his elbow, and guided him to the front door. I was anxious to fill out a scene card about him. I may very well be doodling stars and happy faces on this one.
He turned to me, appraised my face for a moment, and responded. “I did my homework and began props for this week’s scenes early. I left a preview for tomorrow in today’s props. If you’d like.” He raised his hand and, for the first time since we met, touched me.
He drew one long finger across my collarbone, leaving an icy-hot trail on my skin. “Sleep well and dream,” he said, “since I am unable to do either.”
My jaw dropped and I watched him open the door to leave. He turned around and added, “Although, being with you today was the closest thing to a dream I’ve had in decades.”
My pleasure turned to annoyance in a flash.
“Excuse me?” I seethed.
“Mistress?”
“Never revisit a scene—even moments later. Drop the vampire shit.”
I slammed the door, spun on my heel, and headed toward the note cards, volumes of journals, and a night of sweet, sweet dreams.
CHAPTER FIVE
William
“Read ’em and weep,” Gus said, splaying his cards in front of him with pride. “Straight.”