by Dawn Steele
“Because I’m sort of ordinary looking.”
“You don’t sound ordinary to me,” Noah said. “You have a very nice voice.”
She eyed him quizzically. He didn’t seem to be kidding about this. Was he flirting with her?
“Seriously?” she asked him.
“Yes. Since this happened –” he pointed at his dark glasses “– I’ve learned to read voices. Voices are more indicative of someone’s personality than mere looks.”
She hadn’t thought of it this way.
“In what way?” she asked. “The timber, the expression, or the output?”
“You sound like a physics professor,” he remarked.
She couldn’t help laughing, but she was pleased anyway.
“It’s mostly the output,” he said. “But it’s also everything else. The pitch. The inflections. The commas.”
“Commas?”
“Yes. I’ve learned to read commas in spoken sentences. The way you pause when you say something suggests a thoughtfulness and empathy about you.”
“It does?” She was astonished.
“You put thought into everything you say. You care about what you say and how it affects other people.”
Did she do that? She wasn’t even conscious of it!
“Not many people do that,” he added.
“But . . . wouldn’t they? Because you’re . . . you know?”
“There you go. Dotted lines in your questions.” He grinned. “Trying to choose the right words so as not to offend me.”
Yes, she was doing that subconsciously.
“No. Not everyone does that for me,” he continued. “Some people try to challenge me. Others try to cheat me because they think I can’t see. Most people just avoid me because they think a blind man is too much fuss and that I would take up too much of their precious time. But there are many people who are genuinely kind and who would go out of their way to help me. Like yourself.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t understand people who wouldn’t help a blind man. Even Shawna, for all her faults, would go out of her way to help someone less capable than herself. Though, of course, if a blind man were as hot as Noah, she would also try to get into his pants.
“So I’ve learned how to get by alone.”
“How long have you been blind, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Five years now. I’m still learning to cope. But I’ve been getting better and better at it every day.”
She admired how he managed to stay so positive despite his obvious hurdles.
It was a very enjoyable meal. At the end of it, she almost didn’t want to leave.
“So shall we try for Saturday? You, me, and Zach?” she asked.
“Saturday’s good,” he affirmed.
“Great. I’ll pick you up. I’ll try to cook something that meets with your superlative standards.” She teased.
“Looking forward to it.”
SATURDAY
Karen almost couldn’t wait till Saturday.
She fretted and mulled over her menu, all without letting Zach know, of course. He must not suspect that she had the slightest attraction to Noah. Because she did. More than she cared to admit.
She found herself constantly thinking about Noah’s gentle manners and cultured speech. He was so unlike Zach, who was as commanding and rough as a Master should be. Zach was unpolished marble – and marble was an apt metaphor for him, because he was molded like a Norse statue.
Noah was shimmering crystal – so fragile that she was afraid he might break. But underneath that veneer, did he possess hidden strength? She didn’t know. Noah was as mysterious as his eyes underneath those dark glasses.
She found herself fantasizing about those eyes. What color were they? Blue? Green? Or were they a warm honey brown to match his quiet manners and dulcet tones?
Then she started to fantasize about other things. His hands on her body, for one. His palms on her breasts. On her thighs. On other more intimate parts. Sliding. Caressing. Burrowing his fingers into intimate areas.
He had a good body under his clothes. She could clearly see that.
Oh, stop it! He isn’t yours!
Why was she fantasizing about Noah anyway? Was she that disenchanted with Zach and the life that she was living now? Or was the concept of Noah as a hot, blind man simply too enticing and different?
“What are you so happy about?” said a voice from behind her.
She jumped. Zach appeared at the kitchen doorway. She was in the midst of peeling potatoes for their dinner.
“Nothing, Master,” she quickly said. She hastily wiped her hands on her apron. Other than her apron, she only wore a red corset. Once again, the wire cups of the brassiere lifted her breasts, exposing her rouged nipples completely. The corset stopped at her waist. Below it, she wore nothing.
“You’re early. I wasn’t expecting you till later,” she added, shedding the apron.
“You were humming,” he accused.
“Sorry, Master.” She immediately knelt in front of him in a gesture of supplication. She put her hands behind her head. “Would you like me to service your cock with my mouth, Master?”
He unzipped his pants. Zach always did have an incredibly high sex drive.
“Alright,” he said gruffly.
His cock sprang out. She took it into her mouth and began her licking and sucking routine. She sucked and sucked him until he shot his load into her mouth.
There. In many ways, he was easy to appease.
*
Later, when they were asleep in their bed with his arm wrapped around the cushion of her breasts, she went back to her fantasies of Noah.
What would Noah be like in bed? Would he be tender and gentle? Would he be solicitous and careful?
Beef tenderloin, she decided. Her beef tenderloin was the best, especially with her red wine sauce. They would have escargots in garlic butter sauce as starters, along with crusty bread rolls and French butter. Then a chocolate soufflé for dessert. She wondered if she should buy the chocolate soufflé instead of making it.
Whatever it was, she wanted everything to be perfect.
*
Saturday dawned bright and shiny. Zach’s job necessitated him to work weekends and nights occasionally, and today was such a day.
“Gotta go, baby,” he said, kissing her on the top of her head as she lay in bed.
She liked it when he was all sweet and loving. Which wasn’t often.
“Remember, Master, about dinner tonight.”
“Oh, yes,” he said, fastening his belt. “Your blind friend is coming over.”
“That’s right.”
“Planned some decent food for a change?”
“Oh, our usual fare.”
He grinned. “You don’t have me fooled. You’re excited about this.”
She blushed. “Yes, Master. It isn’t often that I get the chance to have guests over.”
They rarely had guests over. She certainly wasn’t allowed to have guests without his permission. He rarely had guests because of what he did. He met his buddies in bars and clubs. His home was a sanctuary – away from people. In fact, she was certain that not many people knew where he lived.
“That’s true, little flower,” he said, gazing at her fondly. She was careful to reveal her naked body to his gaze. He liked to look at her. God forbid that she should be covered before his eyes. “I haven’t forbidden you to have any friends, nonetheless.”
“I know, Master. But because of where we live –” because of the secrecy you have to keep “— I’ve lost touch with all of them.”
She had certainly lost touch with Shawna.
God, she hadn’t realized how lonely she was!
“You’ve been a good girlfriend, Karen,” Zach said, putting on his shirt. “I’ll make it up to you someday. I promise.”
She was taken aback. He had just spoken to her like an equal – the way they used to be before all this master-slave dynamic came about. Of course,
the unspoken elephant in the room was in her mind.
How long do we continue this master-slave thing?
How long did she want it to continue?
It had just come along suddenly. She had agreed to his wishes, and they never looked back. There was no contract. No termination date. She was a girlfriend. She did it out of love – out of the invisible chains that bound her heart. She did it because he was gorgeous, and girls like her didn’t get gorgeous men like him.
But when did it end? She had given up her job. She had no money. She was fully dependent on him.
Unless she could claw her way back.
Oh, it was complicated, and her head was starting to throb.
“I’ll be back before seven,” he said.
“Dinner is at seven, Master,” she reminded him hastily. “I’ll be fetching Noah from next door.”
“And why do you have to do that?”
“He might lose his way. He can’t see.”
Zach laughed. “Ah, the problems of disabled. Alright, little flower. You go lead your blind man over. Make sure he doesn’t trip or lose his way in the forest.”
“Thank you, Master.”
“Careful, now. I’m starting to get jealous,” he warned.
He was only half-joking. Her stomach did a flip.
“He’s a poor blind man. He can’t compare to you.” She lowered her eyes demurely.
“Mmmmm.” He was fully dressed, but his crotch started to fill up again. Her surrender and capitulation always did excite him. “Come here and suck me off.”
They had made wild love the night before, but he was ready to go again. Truly, if he didn’t have to work, he would force her to have sex with him seven times a day. He had a cock that never seemed to run out of juice.
“Yes, Master,” she said obediently.
She went over to give him his morning suck.
*
Dinner was finally ready!
She had spent the whole afternoon slaving over it. She panicked that she had almost ruined the soufflé. But now everything was as perfect as it could be, and her stomach was doing flip-flops for another reason.
What should she wear?
This would be the first time she would be wearing normal clothes for dinner in a long, long time. Usually, she ate in whatever outfit Zach had picked out for her, and that usually exposed her breasts, pussy, and buttocks. But this time, they had company! She had to be decent, even though Noah was blind.
She rifled through her wardrobe for something suitable. What to wear? What to wear? It was like she was on her first date! She must not wear something too sexy, lest Zach would think she was trying to seduce Noah.
Demure. That was what she was aiming for. She selected a blue dress with just a hint of cleavage but which showed off her curves nicely. She had slimmed down a lot in the past year. Zach had called her ‘his project’.
“I’m going to make you my little project,” he had announced when this master-slave thing first started. “I’m going to span that waist with my hands.”
Hence came the corsets. The no carb diets. The no soda liquids. The exercise regime and the gym toning. Everything designed to make her lose weight and become the perfectly sculptured woman Zach desired.
When she started to lose weight, she was pleased. Then she became despondent because Zach didn’t seem to like her the way she was – overweight and chubby. She was largely, so to speak, his experiment.
“But I find you very attractive, little flower,” he used to assure her. “But if you do as I say, you’ll become even more beautiful to me.”
Losing weight gradually used to please her. She was now almost at his desired weight – 115 lbs. But lately, she had been discontented and lonely. Why wasn’t she beautiful to him the way she used to be? This wasn’t supposed to exist in a normal relationship, right?
Karen stared at herself in the mirror. Shawna would barely recognize her now. She was slim. Made up. Tarted up, to be exact.
But not today. Today, she wanted to be something else other than what she had become. She wanted to be herself again – optimistic, full of wonder, and geared to conquer the world.
All excited again, she went down to her car to pick her neighbor up.
THE BOUNTY
As the chief enforcer to Russian mob boss, Vladimir Putchenko, Zach was surprisingly not Russian, and also surprisingly the most loyal of Vladimir’s underlings. But then, they had a history that was the stuff of boy-makes-good novels. Or maybe, in Zach’s case, it was boy-makes-bad.
When Vladimir found Zach, Zach was a shivering, frightened ten-year-old who had just run away from home.
Vladimir asked his driver to stop the car. He opened the back passenger door.
“It’s not safe, sir,” said the driver.
“Nonsense. There’s a hungry boy out there.” Vladimir beckoned to the boy. “Come here, boy.”
The boy slowly detached himself from the pile of discarded boxes in the back alley. He approached Vladimir timidly.
“How long have you been out on the streets?” Vladimir asked. He was a big man with hammy fists. He had spent a lot of his life fighting in a Siberian prison.
“How do you know I’ve been out on the streets?” the boy blustered.
Vladimir smiled. He liked a boy with spirit.
He said, “Your clothes are shrunken, which suggests you have been out in the rain and wearing the same clothes for some time. You reek of sweat, which suggests that you haven’t had a bath. You have new bruises on your temple and jaw, which suggests that you have been fighting, perhaps for food or territory.”
The boy cast his face downwards. “Yes,” he mumbled. “I have been out on the streets for ten days now.”
“Ran away from home, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Let me guess. Your parents hit you? Father? Stepfather?”
“Father.”
“Abused you sexually?” When the boy frowned, Vladimir added, “Touched you in places that only you touch yourself?”
“No.” The boy bridled. “But yes, he hit me. He hit me with his tire iron. And with his fists.”
Vladimir looked the boy up and down. The boy was blond, beautiful, and big for his age. He probably got the upper hand when it came to fighting, but only when all things were equal. He would not yet be a match for an adult or a group of boys.
Some of the Russian gangs were into the trafficking of young boys, but not Vladimir. He drew the line at that, having been sexually assaulted by his stepfather when he was a child. If the boy were to be left out in the streets, someone might pick him up and sell him into a country where blond and blue-eyed catamites fetched a princely sum.
“Would you like some food and hot chocolate?” Vladimir asked.
The boy hesitated. “How do I know you won’t kidnap me and sell me off?”
Vladimir had to smile. So the boy was actually streetwise. He was liking this kid more and more.
“You don’t know that for sure,” Vladimir said. “But I’m giving you my word that you will not be harmed. My word is as good as gold. Ask Boris here.”
Boris, the driver, nodded.
When the boy did not reply, Vladimir asked, “What’s your name, boy?”
“Zachary.”
“I’ll call you Zach for short. So what will it be, Zach? You want to come with me and take a chance that you won’t be drugged or sold? The alternative is that you can continue to live like this in the streets until someone else makes you another offer that you can’t refuse.”
After just a moment’s pause, Zach said, “I’ll come.”
“Then come in.” Vladimir made room for the boy in his copious backseat.
And that was how Vladimir Putchenko came to adopt Zach as his surrogate son – in place of the baby boy he had lost at birth.
*
As chief enforcer, Zach was privy to a lot of goings-on in the underground world. Among them were prostitution rings, drug trafficking, and bounties.<
br />
He was having a routine Saturday, overseeing the business, when he came upon a chance remark from one of his men in Russian.
“Oh, look, there’s a bounty out for a blind man. That should be easy to collect.”
Zach pricked up his ears.
“Blind man?” he said in Russian. Naturally, Zach spoke Russian better than most Russians did themselves. It was his natural instinct to be curious about everything and everyone around him. It was what kept him alive for so long.
“Yeah, boss. It’s a very old bounty, but still uncollected. That’s why it’s so huge. Apparently, this blind guy is good at hiding and evading people. He has been evading them for five years. For every year he remains uncaught, the bounty goes up.”
“Interesting. Who wants him and what is he wanted for?”
Sergei told him.
“Is he really blind?” Zach asked.
“They think so.”
“Think? That’s a figurative word.”
“They are the ones who blinded him, sir.”
“Very interesting,” Zach remarked, leaning back in his chair. “Do you have a photo of the man?”
Sergei showed him. Zach filed the man’s face away in his memory.
“What’s the bounty?”
When Zach heard the sum, he whistled.
THE GUESSING GAME
Noah was already waiting for Karen when she walked up to his front door. He opened the door before she could knock on it.
“Hello, neighbor.” He beamed.
“You knew it was me?” she marveled.
“Who else could it be at this hour? I don’t get many visitors.”
“Not even women?”
“Especially not women.” He laughed.
She thought that he looked very handsome in a casual black shirt and pants.
“Ready to go?” she asked.
“Ready to go.”
He grabbed his jacket and cane. Together, they walked to her car. She was amazed at how unerringly he seemed to pinpoint the location of the front passenger door.
“How did you know where to find your way?” she said.