by NJ Cole
I stared at the ceiling, not wanting to look at her face while she was looking at my pussy. Sure, I’d changed in front of women at the gym before, but I’d never had one stare directly at my pussy. Even my gynecologist was kind of ‘in and out’ quickly.
She was staring closely between my legs, and I realized that although I’d showered after I’d come this morning, my pussy was probably pink and puffy. It still felt like it was, so I was compelled to explain.
“Um…my Sir…”
“Say no more. Sirs can be very demanding. Does it hurt? I don’t want to injure you with waxing.”
“No, it doesn’t really hurt. I’ll be fine.”
I was still staring at the ceiling when I felt the warm wax go on. It might have actually felt good—if I didn’t know what was coming next. When I felt the cool cloth go over it, I knew there was no turning back. “One, two, three,” Trudy said as she pulled on the strip. The pain was instant, but then dissipated much more quickly than I thought it would. It still throbbed though, and I wanted to bring my hand to it. As if sensing my desire, she did just that, pressing her fingers to the sensitive spot. Her hands were cold, but it actually helped with the pain. She continued like that, some areas hurting more than others. After a very short time, she smiled and said, “Well, that part’s done, now on to your legs.”
The legs didn’t hurt nearly as much as my pussy did, and I was pleased when she announced that we were all finished in that room.
“Is that it?” I asked, unsure of what my Sir had requested of me.
Trudy laughed. “Oh no, butterfly. You will be our guest for several more hours. Hilda, will see you next for your massage.”
I’d never had a professional massage before. Sure, my friends and boyfriends had rubbed my back, but it was nothing like what Hilda did. She turned every muscle in my body into jelly. By the time she was done, I could barely stand, the pain of the waxing completely forgotten.
“Trudy will see you next for your manicure and pedicure,” Hilda said, speaking for the first time, over an hour after I’d entered the dimly lit room.
I’d had manicures and pedicures before, but no one had paid the attention to detail that Trudy did.
“I love the color that you’ve chosen,” I said to her as she applied the second coat to my now perfect fingernails.
“Oh, I didn’t choose it. It was chosen by your Sir,” she smiled. “He chose everything today, from your nail color, to the type and scent of the massage oil, to exactly how he wanted your waxing to go.”
I assumed that she knew him. I wanted to ask her about him, but how would I explain that I’d never met him, that I only knew him because I masturbated for him in front of my window? She would think that I was a little slut. His words echoed in my head. “My little come slut.” What if she already knew? What if he told her?
“Don’t worry, butterfly, your Sir only told me what was necessary,” she said, alleviating my unspoken concerns. “As do the other Sirs who send their, uh, special friends here for services. My job is not to judge, just to make you perfect for your Sir.”
Her acceptance of me made me feel comfortable, and I relaxed and enjoyed the small talk while she gave me a pedicure.
Nearly three hours after walking into the spa, I followed Trudy back to the front.
“Thank you so much for a wonderful day. How much do I owe you?” I asked, pulling out my wallet. I knew it would be expensive, but I had the money, and it was well worth it.
“Oh, it’s been taken care of,” she said with a smile.
“Wow,” I said, stunned. “At least let me give you a tip.”
“That has been taken care of too. Just enjoy your evening. See you soon.”
“Soon?”
“Yes, for your next appointment. Gretchen will schedule it for you. Three weeks should be perfect. Gretchen,” she said to the woman behind the counter.
“Thanks so much, Trudy,” I said, smiling.
“It was my pleasure. Now I have other ladies to attend to,” she said and walked back down the hall.
I sighed and turned toward the icy receptionist.
“Does this day and time work for you?” she asked in a clipped tone.
“Yeah, works great,” I answered.
“Fine, then noon on Saturday in three weeks.”
She handed me a reminder card, which I quickly took and walked out of the salon. When I got to my car, I glanced at the card and gasped in shock. Written in large, swirly letters above my appointment date and time, was my name. And I didn’t mean ‘butterfly,’ I meant ‘Rebecca Summers.’
Thoughts rushed through my head. How did she know my name? The answer was obvious. My Sir must have told her. But then, how did he know my name? Well, he did know where I lived and had my phone number. It made sense that he would know my name too. It all made sense, yet somehow I still felt uneasy about it. What was it about him knowing my name that made me nervous and excited at the same time? And then it occurred to me: it made it real.
On my way home, as I pondered the reality of the situation, another thought occurred to me. I had accepted a gift from a stranger. I hadn’t seen the prices at the salon, but I was sure my bill would have been well over two hundred dollars for all of the services. I had taken a gift in exchange for what? Sexual favors? He hadn’t asked anything of me other than to perform for him, but wasn’t that a sexual favor? What if he wanted more? He had said he was going to fuck me. What if he wanted to fuck me tonight?
I was tense again by the time I pulled into my parking space, despite the massage. When my phone rang, I picked it up cautiously.
“Relax, butterfly. I know what you are thinking, and you owe me nothing.”
I sat there stunned. He always seemed to know what I was thinking and feeling. I let out a sigh. Was that a good thing? Did that mean he wasn’t expecting sex? Was I disappointed?
“I do want you, my butterfly. But know this: when my cock fills that pussy, it will be because you have given yourself freely to your Sir—mind, body and soul.”
I nodded my head even though I knew he couldn’t see me.
“Your Sir is pleased with what you did with your body. Go inside and relax. I will call you before bedtime.”
Chapter 11
Sir
“Everything went perfectly,” I heard Trudy say from the other end of the phone. “She looks, smells, and feels just as you asked her to.”
I smiled at the thought. I had been worried butterfly would refuse some or all services. Now I pictured her, relaxed, nails done, and her soft pussy completely smooth for me.
“What did you think of her?”
“She’s lovely, inside and out.”
I was jealous that Trudy had touched her when I hadn’t yet. I was sure she had even touched her pussy during the waxing. I wanted to know all the details.
“So the waxing went well?”
“Yes. She has a high tolerance for pain.”
I groaned at the thought of spreading her legs wide and spanking that pink pussy. I had to have her in my playroom, and soon.
I hung up with Trudy and dialed another number. She answered on the first ring.
“Payton, it’s me. I need a favor. I need that playroom done ASAP.”
I had just hung up the phone with Payton when Bec pulled into the parking garage. Standing in the shadows only a few feet from where she parked her car after her trip to the spa, I’d hoped to catch a glimpse of her, to smell her scent. I’d never been this close to her before. Even the few times I’d seen her in public, I always watched from afar.
She sat there in the car for a minute and looked upset. I wondered if she’d been hurt at the spa, but Trudy had said she did well. Then my thoughts went to Gretchen. I worried that Gretchen had told her that she had been my submissive before. It wasn’t that I wouldn’t tell butterfly eventually, but this early in our relationship was not the time.
In the many years I’d been walking this planet, I’d become very good at rea
ding people’s facial expressions. She was worried and looked like she felt a bit of guilt. I didn’t want her looking so sad after accepting my gift, but then I realized suddenly that perhaps that was what she was upset about. It was a no strings attached, gift, but she didn’t know that.
Guessing what she must be thinking, I quickly called her number.
“Relax, butterfly. I know what you are thinking, and you owe me nothing. I do want you, my butterfly. But know this—when I take you, it will be because you have given yourself freely to your Sir, mind, body and soul.”
She nodded her head as if she knew I was watching.
“Your Sir is pleased with what you did with your body. Go inside and relax. I will call you before bedtime.”
She seemed relieved, and I was grateful that I hadn’t pushed her too far too fast. I was moving at a very quick speed with her, but it was because I needed to see her, touch her. Today I’d been closer to her, and I thought it would lessen the desire, but it only made me want her more.
I waited a few hours to call her. I could see through the window that her heart was racing before she even said hello.
“My butterfly is feeling better.” I could feel the smile play at my lips. Every time I spoke to her, it lightened my mood.
She nodded.
“And you allowed Trudy to follow my instructions?”
Again she nodded.
“Show me,” I commanded. I didn’t have to be specific. She knew that I didn’t want to see her fingernails or toenails. She gulped hard, her nervousness apparent. As she slowly undressed, her hands began to tremble.
She stood nude, facing the window. Although it was light out, and seeing in her windows was much easier at night, I could still see her well.
It was glorious. Anyone who says, ‘seen one pussy, seen them all,’ is an idiot and clearly hasn’t seen my butterfly’s. It was smooth, slightly pink, and very wet. I wondered how much wetness her small amount of hair had covered. I looked forward to finding out.
“It’s beautiful, butterfly. I see that it’s pink and puffy. Does it still hurt?”
She nodded, and my cock jumped. I liked that she had felt pain for me.
“You will keep it looking like this for me. You will endure the pain because it brings me pleasure. Do you understand?”
She nodded quickly.
“Say it—tell me how you will keep yourself.”
“Your butterfly will keep her pussy smooth for her Sir.” As the words left her lips, a shiver went over her body, and I could instantly see wetness. I loved her waxed pussy.
“Such a good girl. Now, get up on that bed and lay back. I want a better view of that pussy.”
She climbed onto the bed and let her legs fall open.
“Spread your lips.”
She did, and I was finally able to see her as I’d wanted to. I held in a groan as I released my cock from my pants. I had planned on masturbating earlier, so I could concentrate on just her this afternoon, but Gretchen had ruined my plans.
It had been during butterfly’s appointment. I pictured her with her legs spread and warm wax on her soft pussy. I imagined her sounds as she allowed her body to be waxed to please me—that thought alone made my balls tingle—and since I was also stroking myself, I was close within minutes. My eyes were closed, lost in thought, when I heard a sharp knock at the door.
“Fuck,” I muttered, zipping up my pants. Very few people knew I lived here, and I wondered who it could be until I focused my attention in that direction. One of the luxuries of living in a huge apartment building for someone like me is that there are twenty to thirty bodies I can hear moving around. The downside is that I often didn’t notice another human or Bocaj until they were very close.
“Hello, Gretchen,” I said, opening the door.
“Masturbating? Really, Oliver? You are reduced to masturbating?” I wondered how long she had been listening and what she was even doing here. It pissed me off that she was invading my privacy.
“What do you want?” I asked, trying to keep my voice level.
“It’s not what I want,” she said, moving into the room, stripping her clothes off instantly, and kneeling before me, “it’s what you want.” Her hands flew out and she unbuttoned my pants. “It’s what you need.”
I would have stopped her and thrown her out without hesitation, but her actions caught me by surprise. It turned out that I’d surprised her too.
“You’re…not…hard,” she stammered. “But you were just…”
I laughed at her assumption. “Honestly, Gretchen, when you came in, I lost my erection.”
Anger flashed in her eyes. “I saw her, you know. Your new toy. Honestly, Oliver,” she said, getting to her feet, “she really isn’t all that pretty. She’s kind of awkward, not very sexy. But if you wanna fuck some stupid human, go right ahead.”
The rage I felt was instant. I held her up by her throat and pressed her into the wall. “Rebecca Summers is not stupid or awkward, and she is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Despite her position, she smiled and spoke in a soft voice. “I shouldn’t have said that. Do you want to punish me?”
“Get the fuck out and don’t come back,” I said, lowering her to the ground. “You knew you would be on your own if things did not work out with Ian. You have no right to be back here.” Then, worried about what she might do to my butterfly, I added quickly, “If you do anything to her, not only will I come after you, but I’ll tell the community that you harmed a new submissive.”
“I know the oath,” she retorted. “I won’t hurt your toy. I’ll leave that up to you.”
She left me standing there, contemplating her words. No, I wouldn’t hurt my butterfly. True, she was to serve me, but her safety and wellbeing were my first concerns. Gretchen was just a bitch, plain and simple.
Hours after Gretchen left, I was finally doing what I’d wanted to. I was unabashedly staring at butterfly’s wet, pink lips as my cock wept at the sight. I brought my hand up to stroke myself and imagined rubbing the tip against her soft, warm body.
Her hands, which had been trembling earlier, were now at her sides. “Touch yourself, butterfly.”
I watched as her fingers found her pussy. She slid them over her now smooth flesh and moaned in pleasure, causing my cock to twitch in my hand.
“That’s it. Such a good little girl, making your body so beautiful for me. Spread your lips. Show me.”
Her back arched as she pulled her pink lips apart.
My hand flew back and forth over my dick. “Fuck your pussy with your fingers for me.”
She whimpered the moment her fingers slid inside of her; I lost it at the sound. I barely had time to mute the phone before I roared and created yet another mess in the room.
Chapter 12
butterfly
His words were so seductive, his tone so sexy. The idea that my body pleased him had me finding my release within minutes. I slept well that night, knowing that he wasn’t demanding anything more from me, but I would be lying if I didn’t admit that at least a small part of me was disappointed we hadn’t met yet.
I wasn’t ready to sleep with him, but putting a face to that sexy voice was something I desired. Touching him and feeling his touch too, was something I wanted very much.
He called twice the next day, each time with specific instructions. It was amazing how comfortable I was lying there with my legs wide open, showing him my pussy and clit. Each time I came hard, and by the time I fell asleep Sunday night, I was well rested and relaxed enough to face the upcoming work week.
I should have been excited to be working on the wrestling video game, and really I was; I just wasn’t looking forward to working with Candy or two unknown artists. My intern experiences in college had taught me that sometimes artists could be snobby or eccentric—or just plain weird.
These guys were none of those. They were smart and funny, and I had to agree with Candy’s assessment: they were hot.
The first time the four of us met was Monday morning. I didn’t know exactly what I was expecting, but what was waiting for me in the conference room wasn’t it.
These guys looked like they had stepped out of the pages of GQ magazine. Both were extremely attractive and very well dressed in designer clothes. One was very well built—his confident posture making him seem much taller than his six-foot frame. With wavy brown hair and soft brown eyes, he seemed much less intimidating when he smiled. He didn’t seem to fit the stereotype of a nerdy graphic artist. I wondered briefly what my Sir’s body size was. It seemed I couldn’t go more than five minutes anymore without thinking of him. But he wasn’t here.
“Hi, you must be Candice and Rebecca. I’m Shane,” he said, stepping toward us and extending his hand. I would have been afraid to shake it if it weren’t for the twinkle in his eyes. Instead of crushing mine, he held it gently and smiled.
“Bec,” I said, smiling.
Candy pushed her way in front of me and took his hand. “And you can call me Candy, you know, really sweet but sometimes sticky.”
Shane just looked at her like she was insane and then looked to the other guy who was doing his best not to laugh but had the cutest grin on his face.
“That’s my brother, Oliver,” Shane said, taking his hand from Candy.
I didn’t think that they looked like brothers at all, other than having the same pale skin tone. Oliver was slightly taller than Shane, and though still muscular, his body was lean. His hair was almost black and a bit longer, but it had the same wave as Shane’s. Oliver’s eyes were a lighter shade of brown, and as I looked at them, I noticed how brilliant the whites were. They were both very attractive men and not at all what I was expecting.
Oliver looked at me and smiled. “Hello,” he said, and my body instantly went rigid. His voice reminded me so much of my Sir.
“Well, hello,” Candy simpered as she shook his hand.
I still couldn’t move.
“Are you alright?” Shane asked me.