by Mia Moore
Taking her by the forearm he laid her on the bed, face down and sat beside her. His hand stroked her long hair and lifted it to the side. He dipped the cloth into the bowl and wrung it out before pressing it to the bruises on her skin. She flinched at the cold, then relaxed into the relief. He wrung the cloth one last time, soaked it with witch hazel and pressed it to her skin.
How often have they done this ritual? Why was it each time felt like the first?
He stood up and began to unbutton his shirt. “Roll over.”
He continued with the buttons as he watched her. Her gaze, filled with longing locked with his. She wanted him but she would have to wait. He dropped his shirt and slipped his shoes off. His fingers slowly unbuckled his belt and fly and slid the pants down and off his legs, scooping his dark socks off in the process. His cock was heavy yet straining upward as he stood silently, noticing her gaze drop.
He nodded. Languorous as a cat she eased up onto her knees and slid closer to him. His hard cock brushed the side of her upturned face, begging him with her eyes. He held the moment before nodding once more. Her hands raised to cup his balls and stroke his shaft, guiding it into her mouth. Her eyes never left his as she eased her mouth down onto him. Deeper, she pulled him into her throat; her eyes watered. She took him deeply, paused for her gag reflex to calm, and deeper still.
“Stop. Lie on your back again.”
She obeyed with grace.
“Spread your legs.” He placed his knee on the bed and moved to kneel between her knees. Leaning forward over her he held his cock and rubbed it along and between her cleft. Her eyes closed and she gasped when he lingered on her clit, rolling over it in small circles. Her legs opened wider and her hips thrust harder against his cock.
He slapped her hard on the side of her ass. Her eyes flew open and she moaned. But she lay completely still. She felt her ache fluttering beneath her skin, her thighs trembling. Bastard had her right where she wanted him.
He sat back on his heels. “Tell me what you would like me to do Annik.” His mouth twisted.
This was new. She half opened her eyes. “What do you wish me to say, Master?”
“I wish you to tell me what you want, my dear.”
Oh. That. “Fuck me hard.” She kept her eyes hooded.
His hand slapped the other side of her ass. “That isn’t the correct way to ask.”
She gasped and bit her lower lip. “Please Master. Please fuck me.”
“That’s it?”
Oh God. She flushed. “N-no… please, for God’s sake! Please Master! Fuck me! God, Tom! I want your cock!” She couldn’t keep her hips still.
“That’s better.” He leaned over her and drove his cock deep inside her.
Oh God yes.
Her eyes closed as she moaned, arching upward to meet his thrust. His thickness filled and emptied her.
“You cannot come until I give you permission.” He paused, propped on his elbow and held her face in his hand. “Look at me, Annik. Do you understand?”
Her eyes opened slowly and met his. He pushed deep inside her as he fingered her clit. She heard herself moan.
Her last gift. She. Would. Hold. Off. Moaning and panting on the brink she clawed at him, her fingers pleading for release. He continued to ride her. Oh God. Oh please. Oh. Oh.
“Now Annik! Now.”
She shattered into forever.
She clenched her eyes shut tightly to keep from screaming her love. For this man. This man.
“This man…” escaped her lips in a gasp as she returned to the world.
His body slumped spent onto hers. He kissed her softly as she opened her eyes. “Tom, that was the best. My Master knows how to treat his subbies.”
“Annik, I don’t have subbies. There’s only you.” He rolled off next to her.
She draped her arm across his chest and slid her leg onto his. They lay together and both dozed.
Muffled footsteps through the door roused her. She opened her eyes to see Tom watching her with a smile.
“I think we better go,” he said, pulling her to him and kissing her. First softly, then deeper. They rose and dressed in silence and left Pandora’s arm in arm.
Chapter 7
Annik slept in. It was almost three AM when Tom dropped her off. She took her coffee into the bathroom and enjoyed a leisurely bubble bath. Resting her head against the back of the tub she closed her eyes and saw his face. How nice it would have been to wake up next to him. Make him breakfast and just hang with him for the day. But that had never happened. Tom was a good friend, not to mention client. If she were to let him know how she really felt about him, she could lose both.
She finished in the bathroom and ambled into her bedroom. She applied blush to her cheeks and dressed in a pair of dark slacks and white blouse. After slipping her feet into ankle boots, she called for a cab, grabbed her coat and left the apartment.
She entered the same nursing home her mother had passed away in years earlier. Even though Mamma was gone, Annik had continued to come every Sunday. Mamma may be gone, but Auntie May was still kicking.
May was Mamma’s roommate. Annik wasn’t sure who adopted who, but when Mamma passed away, May became ‘Auntie May’. It suited them both.
She stopped at reception to see how the old girl had been doing for the week.
Connie was behind the desk. “I don’t even have to check the chart, Annik. She’s doing well. As usual. I asked her about nightlife in Toronto in the fifties this morning—I went dancing last night—and she rattled off half a dozen spots that were popular.” Connie shook her head. “She must have been hell on wheels when she was in her twenties.”
“Yes, I think she was.”
“I don’t get her, Annik. Why such a firecracker wasn’t scooped up by some guy back in the day is beyond me. I checked her chart; she’s neither widowed nor divorced, you know?”
Annik shrugged. “Some girls just aren’t the marrying type I guess.” Connie, if you only knew. “Anyway, thanks for the update.”
“Nothing to report, and that’s always good, eh? Especially at eighty-seven.”
“Yes, it is. See ya.” Annik headed to Auntie May’s room.
It was a private room now. Annik made up the difference each month. The management just told the woman that they didn’t have any new clients yet, and did she mind? Not in the slightest; May was overjoyed at the privacy.
Annik had been fond of May when Mamma was alive. During Mamma’s last year at the home she’d lost all her faculties and thought Annik was her sister, long dead. It killed her not to be recognized. May picked up on it, and always told Annik about the good days Mamma had. She had probably lied; Annik had visited every day back then. Even so, her fibs were embellished well enough that Annik could almost believe them, sometimes.
Eighty seven. And sharp as a tack. Despite the aches of the elderly. She was doing pretty good.
Not bad for an ex-hooker.
May told Annik after Mamma passed away. “I knew you were in the life, Annik. Takes one to know one and all that,” is how she put it. From then on, Annik made no bookings for Sundays. No matter what convention might be in town. She looked forward to seeing Auntie May, as much as May looked forward to seeing her.
May was ‘doing well’, but was in the section that had full time nursing staff. At the nurse’s station a couple of nurses and a support worker were standing together, chatting. They said hi and told her that May was in fine form that day. When wasn’t she? May teased the nurses, gave them sex advice whether they wanted it or not and told dirty jokes.
She entered the room and saw May sitting in her wheelchair. The lines around May’s mouth deepened when she grinned. Her ivory teeth seemed large for her tiny face. Blue owl-like eyes peered out from behind her eyeglasses. Annik walked to her and kissed her cheek before returning the grin and hopping up onto her bed.
“You’re late. I almost thought you weren’t coming.” May smiled.
“What! And miss se
eing my favorite Auntie? The week wouldn’t be complete without a visit with you.” Annik was perched on the bed, swinging her legs absently.
“Now I know why your eyes are brown. You’re full of shit. How are you?”
“Great. It’s been a busy week. Gave an interview to Jessica. Saw a few clients. But what about you? How are you feeling?” Annik used her loud voice. May was hard of hearing but she refused to wear a hearing aide. It wasn’t that it was uncomfortable; it mussed her hair.
“Well I’m on the right side of the clay. So pretty good for an old gal. Is it cold outside? I wouldn’t mind getting some fresh air if you feel up to pushing me around.”
“Auntie May, no one pushes you around. It’s not too cold if you’re out of the wind. The sun still has some warmth in it. For autumn, it’s okay.”
She took May’s shawl from the closet and wrapped the elderly lady up. She plopped a blue Toronto Maple Leafs knitted hat on her head before wheeling her down the hall and out into the back garden of the property. They talked about the interview which Annik had done with Jessica. May could hardly believe that a news magazine would publish the story about a prostitute. How times had changed.
“Your mother and I would sit out here on her good days. She’d tell me how on Sundays when you were little, you two would have high tea at a fancy restaurant. Just fresh from church and wearing your Sunday best and white gloves. Your mother was a real lady, never heard her curse when she was with it. She was so proud of you Annik. Still would be I suppose.” May smiled up at her.
“That would have been the Black Swan hotel, Poppa owned. Totally different atmosphere, very British. The chef there would sneak me a bag of chocolate brownies, for Poppa and me. Mamma always worried about my teeth.”
May’s mind wandered to another topic. She chuckled and related one of her funnier stories from when she was in the life. Annik listened and laughed even though she’d heard the story at least three times before.
They went back into the building when it was clear that May was feeling chilly. Annik wheeled her to the dining room and got two trays of food. Tonight was beef stew, salad, fresh rolls and chocolate cake. As they ate, May plied her with questions about Tom, when did she see him last, what did they do. May and Jessica were the only people Annik had confided in about her feelings.
She omitted the details of the previous night. They were in a dining room and she had to keep her voice loud so May could hear after all. Some of the residents at nearby tables did wear hearing aids. And maybe even pacemakers.
“You should come clean with him, you know,” she said.
“Come on, Auntie, we’ve been over this.”
“Who’s going to look after you when I’m gone, Annik?” It would have been funny except for the fear in her eyes.
“You’re a hopeless romantic.”
“You’re just hopeless! You got nothing to lose, and a world to gain, honey. Love, marriage, maybe even kids.”
“Yeah, yeah. If anything changes, I’ll keep you posted.”
She sat with May in her room for awhile after dinner until May started to nod off. She kissed her cheek and left. She loved visiting May but was always sad leaving. Would May be there next Sunday? And would that be her someday?
****
She checked her email when she arrived home and saw a request for a booking later in the week. One of her favorite clients from Ottawa had referred a friend of his to see her. She scanned the email from Charles.
Oh Miss Annik!
This worthless worm is so gratified that You MAY deign to give my good friend Gerald similar memories that You have given me! It has me so excited just thinking about it that i’m doing nasty things to myself with one hand as i type this! i have told my dear friend Gerald about Your strictness, about the luscious PAIN You have bestowed upon me over the last two years, and he is SO envious!
Miss Annik, the worthless scum Gerald, hopes to earn Your discipline too! Like this worm, he needs to be taught with the STRICTEST DISCIPLINE that one such as Yourself can only provide! The thought! The very thought of being able to share with another useless cur the joy of Miss Annik’s righteous pain brings this disgusting cur to a state of ecstasy!
Please email Gerald at [email protected]. He is praying you’ll accept him as a client after he completes his paperwork. He dared not contact you first!
As ever,
Your useless maggot,
Charles
She smiled thinking of Charles. He was retired from the military and a widower. Much as she was weary and would rather go to bed, she decided to answer Charles’s email. She closed her eyes and put herself in the role of Domme before she typed…
twit-
you do not do it enough, nor properly most times. However, you have pleased Me by giving Me what appears to be a positive client today. That remains to be seen, of course.
And as a result, upon the next encounter between us, I shall give you a list of Special Favors I may grant upon you—however, you will be permitted to choose only one.
Miss Annik
She copied and pasted Gerald’s email address into one of her template emails and sent it off. It contained a checklist, terms of service and price.
Her Accounting textbook lay on the desk and she deliberated for a moment whether she had the energy to read through it. She was completing her fourth business course and had a test later in the week to bone up for. She picked it up and went into her bedroom to settle for the night. If she was serious about Pandora’s one day, she had to have this stuff down cold.
After reading for an hour, she drifted off.
Chapter 8
The next morning, Annik sipped her coffee and booted her laptop up. Yes, as expected there was an email payment from her new client, Gerald. What? He had sent too much. She had quoted twenty-three hundred dollars not twenty-five hundred. Was this was some sort of integrity test? She composed her reply.
birdshit:
I don’t know if you’re stupid, or worse, stupid trying to be clever.
I gave you the amount for your Tribute for our encounter and you sent me the wrong amount.
Are you going to do as you’re told, or are you going to try to control things from the start? I am refunding your entire payment; you have a choice—we can part company right now, or you can send me an apology and the correct amount within one hour.
Miss Annik
She did a search on Gerald Smithers and Google responded with about twenty hits. Scanning the addresses, she saw his name. Aha! Got it. He had said that he was from Ottawa when he initially contacted her and he had been referred by Charles Bridges who also lived in Ottawa. After clicking on his name, she read that he was a retired Sergeant from the Army, who now owned a communications subcontracting company. She opened a new tab and searched on the company name. It had been operating for five years, employed fifty people and showed a net worth of somewhere between five and ten million. Yes, it looked like he was doing pretty well and his picture wasn't too bad–he had outdoor rugged good looks, but could spend a little more time at the gym.
She read through the checklist of limits and turn-ons, he had sent to her and the results of the personality scores. She was able to get a sense of what he would like. The way he answered indicated that his first turn on was service and that he liked to mix that up with medium hard beating. She re-read the list. Yes, he’s got the bad, school-boy blues.
Smithers responded with an effusive apology and the correct amount of money in twenty minutes. He begged her forgiveness, and tried to explain that he was so excited at being chosen as a Patron that he added to his Tribute as a way of showing his appreciation.
****
Smithers didn’t tell Annik that it was, in fact, an ‘Integrity Test’. He had done similar things with various suppliers in his business, to see how forthright and trustworthy they were. He was willing to forgo some money so he could see how much he could trust them. Why not apply the same principle to a Mistress he was goi
ng to pay for services? He was thrilled at Annik’s chastisement; everything his pal Charlie had said about this woman was true.
****
She sent an e-mail confirming their appointment for the next evening. They were to meet at Pandora’s at seven PM. In the greater Toronto area, Annik had several choices of locations to conduct her business. Her favorite by far was Pandora’s. It had the most extensive assortment of equipment of all the facilities. When she reserved a private room she could have it equipped to her specifications.
She twiddled her thumbs in front of her computer playing out her scene with Gerald Smithers in her mind’s eye. The spanking bench was a given, of course. She composed her email and also requested a St. Andrew’s Cross. For refreshments she ordered a tray of hors d’oeuvres, a small selection of deserts and ice water.
Gerald’s first encounter with ‘Miss Annik’ would be a memory for the rest of his life; she knew that. For it to take place at Pandora’s, well, it would be like taking a child who had wonderful memories of county fairs to Disney World for the first time. The Victorian ambiance added to the thrill of a scene.
She drummed her fingers on the desk. It had so much underutilized potential. They were closed more nights than open. If they installed just a small number of upgrades it could become a world class club appealing to international Patrons. She had the ideas and plans laid out. If her business kept going along, she’d have the cash in about a year and a half.
It was currently owned by some rich family she had never seen. Oh well…someday.
For now she was doing better than most of her counterparts in the life. That poor girl from last week thought she was so clever…
She turned off the computer, dressed, packed her gym bag and headed to the parking garage. She had some other errands to do, so she’d drive. Even in city traffic, her Miata was fun. In ten minutes, she was at the gym. She pushed herself in her exercise regimen. Just like a professional athlete, her body was her meal ticket.