“Jane, bella, it’s very simple, just be yourself.”
“Don’t you think that’s a simplistic response to a complicated situation? Do you know what she’d do if she knew I signed that contract of yours? Which, by the way, I’d like a copy of.”
“Non nascondere più,” he said, shaking his head.
“That sounds romantic as … um … heck but what does it mean?”
He placed his hand on my cheek and said, “It means, stop hiding. As long as you’re unwilling to own your life and the decisions you make, you cannot be happy.”
“Are you suggesting that I be honest with Parker?”
“I’m not sure the details of our dynamic are necessary but yes, that we are in a relationship—”
“And that you are in a relationship with Janice as well?”
“Yes, Jane, that’s the truth.”
“You don’t know Parker very well, Marcello. This will not sit well with her and then we’ll be in conflict the entire time trying—”
“She’d like you to meet the man she’s dating. I doubt she’ll give you the first degree while you’re at dinner.”
“Dinner?”
“Yes, tomorrow night. I told her you’d be there.”
“You had no right to do that,” I said, my voice sounding more rebellious than usual. I wrapped my arms around myself. “It’s up to me who I see.”
“You can’t live here and hide, Jane,” he said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. “It’s time to own your life and move on.”
“You’re way overstepping the bounds of our agreement.” I shook him off.
Removing his hand he responded, “To the contrary, the contract is meant to help me help you. You need a balanced and healthy life and part of that is having family and friends in it. We both know you became too isolated with Luke, and that’s not what I want for you or what I think is best. Go and you might find a way back to your friendship with Parker. She needs you, Jane, have you considered that?”
“Well, no, I haven’t actually.” I uncrossed my arms and folded them in my lap. Was I being unfair? She had been an amazing friend to me and I had essentially abandoned her. “You’re right,” I said, glancing up through my lashes.
“Of course I am,” he said, smiling warmly.
“Hey,” I said, playfully shoving him away.
Marcello surprised me by grabbing my wrist and whipping it around my back, holding me face down on the bed. He nipped at my neck and said, “I have plans for you later.”
It excited me to be tossed about as if I barely weighed a thing. “Oh,” I managed to grunt out. The weight of his body pressed me down, proof of his desire thrusting against my thigh. Evidently the earlier activities hadn’t left either of us sated for long.
* * * *
During the thorny, mostly silent dinner, I grew even more convinced that a major rift had happened between Marcello and Janice. As I understood it, he could simply punish her at his whim, but the new tension seemed like something else entirely. It worried me. They’d always had such an effortless rapport. Why hadn’t Janice come to talk to me about it?
I ate a lite dinner, unsure what Marcello had in store for me but positive that a full stomach wouldn’t help matters. We lingered after the meal and as Marcello sipped his coffee, he said, “There’s an outfit waiting for you in your room. Please prep yourself for me and dress. I will see you in an hour.”
I eyed Janice as I stood and said, “Yes, Sir.”
The expression on her face left me baffled. Did their disagreement have something to do with me? I headed to my room, mulling over the situation. Once I saw what had been laid out for me, I forgot all about Janice.
On the bed I found a black lace chemise dress with garters, a G-string and a collar. A collar? He couldn’t possibly expect me to go out like that. The short, see-through dress would barely cover my ass. On the floor near the bed I found black high heels, much higher than I used to wear to work.
I undressed and entered the bathroom. With only an hour to get ready and figure out how the outfit should be worn, I hurriedly ran the water and fished a new razor out of the bottom drawer.
Fresh from the shower, I towel-dried my wavy brown hair as best as I could. I seldom used a hair drier and hadn’t even unpacked mine from the boxes of stuff brought over from the house I used to share with Luke. It felt weird to call it my house or even Luke’s home. It was the domicile on the beach I had yet to travel back to. The idea that other people now occupied it caused a wrench in my stomach. It was not a sight I eagerly anticipated.
I fluffed my hair and got to the business at hand. The G-string seemed the most sensible place to start so I pulled on the pair of panties. I slid into the waist garters, lining up the clasps so that they hung correctly over the middle of my thighs. Next I tackled the dress, a not so simple feat. I had to admit, Marcello had excellent taste. I glided the dress over my head, making sure the crisscross straps lined up in the back. The sides were cut out and the back swooped to just above my butt. When I turned around to see myself in the mirror, I smiled. Whatever he had in store for me, I’d look sexy doing it. The halter front cupped my pert round breasts and a small bow with the circle cut out added a nice detail.
I perched on the edge of the bed, rolled the stockings up, and attached the garter fasteners on either side. I stood and did the same on the back. Never having donned this type of clothing it felt odd to wear so many layers of lingerie.
I studied the collar, still lying on the bed, as if it was a snake that might bite me. Finally I forced myself to pick it up. It frightened me only slightly less than a gag and for similar reasons—it might restrict my ability to breathe.
Two rows of rhinestones spanned the thick black collar, ending in a buckle clasp with three holes to adjust its length. I wanted to leave it on the second hole but knew Marcello would not be happy if it hung loose. I held my breath and fastened it. A D-ring sat front and center on the damned thing and the image of what could be done with it left me dizzy. My nipples hardened as the crazy bio-chemicals stirred in my blood.
Shaking out my hair, I decided to pin up the sides. I slipped on the four-inch heeled, shiny black pumps that completed the outfit and turned to stare at myself. Liking my reflection, I blew her a kiss. I laughed at myself and swiveled around to see the time on the clock. Fifteen more minutes until the next escapade.
* * * *
I sashayed into the main part of the house, where Marcello lounged on the deep brown leather couch. My pulse raced as I beheld the fit, handsome man dressed in dark slacks and a crisp white button-down shirt, casually sipping his scotch.
“Bellissima,” he said, inspecting me up and down. “The rhinestone collar definitely suits you. So sexy you are, Jane.”
“You’re not so bad yourself, Sir,” I said, smiling. I turned around for him, rather proud of my appearance, but then I caught myself. “Are we going out?”
“Dressed like that?” he said, laughing. He put down his drink and beckoned me over to him. “I’m not interested in sharing you tonight.”
“Good,” I said as he scooped me up and deposited me into his lap.
“Before I kiss you thoroughly, I want to discuss what I have planned.”
“Can I ask you something first?”
“Certo.”
“What’s up with Janice? Is she mad at me? Something doesn’t feel right and she isn’t talking to me about it.”
“You should ask her.”
“What happened to the ‘honest and open communication’ clause in the contract?”
“It gets complicated with more than two people. I cannot and will not speak for Janice, just as I would never disclose private discussions with you to Janice. She deserves the same respect.”
“Fine,” I said, accepting that I wasn’t going to learn anything from him. I’d have to corner Janice tomorrow before she departed for work. “So what’s in store for me?”
“A kiss first,” he said, not giving me a
n opportunity to respond. He clutched my chin like a man who could wait no longer, seizing the mouth that—for the time being at least—belonged solely to him. He took my breath away and captured my wits with it, whispering Italian endearments only he understood. The more he fed me, the more I hungered. I never would have thought that the man I had met for the first time at my wedding to Luke, the very man I had truly despised for so long, would also become the man who could coax my true nature to the surface.
He lingered, slowly breaking away from the kiss as if mourning the loss. I rested in his lap with my arms about his neck, my face close to his. He leaned forward and kissed the tip of my nose.
“It’s time for some training,” he said, standing me up in front of him. He flicked the left strap of my chemise off my shoulder and sucked my stiff nipple into his mouth.
“Hmmm, some training,” I murmured, encouraged by the promising start.
He covered my breast and said, “Stop distracting me.”
“I’m the distracting one?” I asked.
“Have you seen yourself in the mirror?” he asked.
“Yes, I have, and you have rather good taste.”
“Yes, I most definitely do,” he said, standing and turning me away from him. “Now behave,” he said, swatting my butt with his palm.
I glimpsed over my shoulder, the mirth already spilling out. “Who’s the one in charge here?” I said, laughing as I moved quickly forward on my toes.
He easily caught me up in his arms. “Really, is there any question?” he said, carrying me to his bedroom door.
“No, Sir,” I said, all demure.
“Good girl,” he said, putting me down and opening the door, where soft jazz already set the mood.
Once we were in his bedroom the energy between us changed and I could feel his restraint. Imagining that he’d rather plunder me than teach, I felt his palpable control.
“I will instruct you in the positions I require and then test you. The postures will come in handy at our next event.”
“But—”
“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” he ordered.
His brow furrowed so I quickly responded, “Yes, Sir.”
“We will start with the standing positions. Set your feet shoulder width apart.” He placed his palm on my back and said, “Keep your back straight and your head forward. Right … good. Now gaze down.” I dipped my head and he snatched the D-ring at the front of my collar, yanking my head upright. “Keep your head straight but cast your eyes down …. Perfect. Now there are three arm placements that I might request. How you are standing now, with your arms at your side, is Standing Position One. Okay, now shift your arms, hands behind your neck.”
I did as instructed, feeling like I’d been sent back to kindergarten. I figured it could be a lot worse so I kept my mouth shut.
“That’s Standing Position Two. Clasp your hands behind your back and push out your chest. Right. That’s Standing Position Three. I also use it as the Resting Stance.”
I sent Marcello an enquiring glance, not knowing if I had permission to speak.
“If I tell you to rest, assume the Standing Position with your arms behind your back. Kneel for me.”
I brought myself quickly to the floor, my buttocks resting on the heels of my pumps.
“For this pose I will say, ‘Kneel.’ It has the same variations as the Standing Positions. Show me.”
I knelt with my spine straight, my head facing forward, and my eyes downcast. Then I presented the different arm variations, moving them from my sides, to my neck, and then behind my back. I worried that the purpose of the exercise was to prepare me to be presented to other Doms in the community. Despite my anxiety, I could feel the G-string, thoroughly wet, cling to me.
“When I say, ‘Kneel down,’ you will part your knees but keep your toes touching, your body bent over and your forehead on the ground, cushioned by your hands. Eyes closed. Show me now.”
Assuming the Kneeling Down Position left me exposed and vulnerable.
“You are so sexy in that stance,” he said as he bent over, running his hand over my ass, trailing his fingers below my mound. “Standing Two,” he barked.
Hurriedly rising up, I started putting my arms behind my body but then swiftly placed my palms in back of my neck with my elbows out.
“Kneeling Three,” he ordered.
I lowered myself down onto my heels and clasped my hands behind me, keeping my gaze to the ground.
“Perfect,” he said. “When I say, ‘Present’ you are to bend all the way over and present your ass to me. I might say, ‘Present over the couch’ and you’d fold your body forward over the arm.”
I leaned over to touch my toes, the garters stretching but holding firm.
“Great. Make sure you write them in your journal so you don’t forget what I’ve just shown you.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Let’s sit on the bed together.”
Filled with anticipation, I followed him over to the bed. No way could I be getting off that lightly.
He kissed me again, scrambling my thoughts and rendering me more pliable.
“Tell me what you fantasize about when you masturbate,” he said.
His request shocked me. I shifted sideways to face him on the bed. “Since masturbation is off the table, why does it matter?”
Marcello’s rapid fire response left me breathless. Seizing the D-ring at my throat, he hauled me over his lap and spanked my ass three times with increasing force.
“Okay, okay,” I said, covering my butt with my hands.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice, Jane. Don’t confuse my willingness to start from the beginning with spinelessness. Make no mistake; I am in control.” His eyes narrowed, and his pupils turned darker.
“Sorry, Sir … yes, Sir.” Moving my hands, I waited for more blows; instead, he leaned over, bit my right butt cheek and then quickly placed me back beside him. “Owww,” I grunted but then breathed an enormous sigh of relief. I knew it could have been much worse.
“This is the part where you get over your embarrassment of who you are and let go of who you think you should be. I want to see the real you and for you to own her. If you tell me your fantasies, I won’t conclude you want them to happen unless you say otherwise. They might give me ideas, however.” He playfully twitched his eyebrows and added, “And for that you’ll just have to trust me.”
I didn’t answer immediately. I sat, flummoxed, debating what to share. Many possible fantasies popped to the forefront, but I quickly dismissed them one after the other. Anyone of them would be completely mortifying to relate out loud.
“Jane …” he said, clutching my upper arm in a threatening fashion. At any moment the spanking and/or biting would begin again.
Although Luke liked to spank me during our time together, his preferred punishment came via a whip or a paddle. Marcello’s larger, thicker hands made his palm a potentially brutal tool for my disciplining.
“Sorry, I’m trying to decide which fantasy to choose,” I said.
“Select the one you’re most embarrassed to share and that way we can get it out of the way. Nothing else you’ll tell me will seem as bad.”
Marcello’s confidence and lack of inhibitions encouraged me to feel more reassured about my body, my choices, and my life. With Luke I felt I had to morph into someone else to please him while Marcello encouraged the real me to emerge.
As to fantasies, I had to agree with his perverse logic and didn’t want to hide from him. “Okay, you asked for it.” Taking a deep breath, the heat already infusing my cheeks, I slowly released the air from my lungs, determined to share my most embarrassing imaginings.
“There are different versions to this same story … I’ve been running on the sand at Hollywood Beach and I decide to take the long route back to my car. Unbeknownst to me, I’m being followed. I feel a chill up my spine, but when I turn around, I don’t see anyone. Brushing off the feeling, I c
ontinue to listen to the cool down songs on my iPod, singing along.” I paused to make one more plea. “Do I have to?”
“Trust me,” he said, leaning forward and lightly kissing my pouty mouth.
How could I deny the man who had given me the time to heal and helped me to find value in myself again?
“I do. I really do,” I said, staring directly at him. “Okay, so …” I closed my eyes as the fantasy spilled out of me. “Someone comes up behind me and puts a cloth over my mouth. In my fantasy, I’m passed out but I still feel him carry me to a car and lay me in the backseat. After a while I wake up to find my arms secured behind my back and ankles tied together, my eyes covered.”
“So you don’t know what he looks like?”
Opening my eyes, I looked straight into Marcello’s and said, “No, not yet.”
“See, this isn’t so hard.”
“For you,” I said and laughed. In truth, he was right but I hadn’t gotten to the meat of the story yet. “He drives me into the wilderness, away from everything. The ease with which he carries me into his house tells me he is a large man. He brings me down to the basement and tosses me onto the bed. Removing the blindfold, I see him for the first time.”
I broke from the story and said, “His appearance changes with my mood but honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve had this particular fantasy.”
“Continue,” he said, caressing my thigh.
Avoiding his eyes, I carried on, “He informs me that there is no escaping, that my life is now his. I look over his shoulder and see there is a reverse lock on the door. ‘What do you want from me?’ I say. He responds, ‘It’s not what I want but what I’ll take. This room is now your home.’ He lays me on the bed and makes a sweeping gesture around the sixteen-by-twenty-foot space without windows. There’s another door on the far side I assume is a bathroom. There is a sink against the wall with cabinets. Other than that, just the bed I’m sitting on.
“He unties my wrists and fastens them to the headboard of the full-size bed. My feet secured to the corners of the baseboard, I lie there, bound. I see him retrieving scissors from the counter and then he cuts away my workout clothes. My nipples are hard, which embarrasses me greatly. I don’t want to be turned on by this madman but I am.”
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