Lynn's final instructions before dropping me off had been very specific, and I followed them to the letter. I was to arrive at her house with my equipment in a briefcase, dressed in khakis and a sports shirt to approximate the appearance of a Ph. D. candidate coming by for help with a dissertation. My car was to be washed and waxed. Thus, I would look acceptable and unremarkable at the gate of her exclusive development, and to her neighbors, who had seen that sort of thing before. If anyone asked, it was my cover story and a plausible one, with the second-largest university in Florida conveniently located in the next county.
I would arrive by nine PM but no earlier than eight because she worked to a strict schedule even on weekends. I was not to stay past eleven this evening, nor could I expect to stay overnight in the future because of the guards at the gate. I was never to touch her outdoors, such as on the patio by the pool, or even in the house if the curtains weren't drawn. Should anyone ever be in earshot, I was to address her as “Dr. Jeffries.” There were other rules, she informed me, which I would learn after I arrived. Her clipped, matter-of-fact manner while detailing all these requirements made me wet myself yet again.
I wondered how long any of her husbands had gone along with this, or if the rules had been different for them. Or if they had wandered longingly around in an advanced state of arousal 23 hours a day.
In any event, I was there by 8:15. I would have been earlier but I made myself drive around and around the unenclosed neighborhoods adjoining “The Barony” until I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled my spotless car up to the gate and gave my name to a beefy old fart of a guard who had the look of a retired NCO about him. He grunted, gave me a map and retracted the swinging gates.
I wound through shady streets for about a half mile until I found Lynn's house. It wasn't enormous or set amid rambling acres. It was really an average-sized house on an unremarkable lot. The residents here paid mostly for security and the cache of the name of the place. Later I found out the truly grand houses were much further back, separated from these “lesser estates” by a picturesque little canal with alligators in it. But no drawbridge.
Even so, Lynn's house was grand enough. She couldn't have afforded it on her salary alone, but her endless royalties, guest appearances and investments made it feasible. That, and no alimony and no kids-only herself to spend her money on. It was a sumptuous but isolated existence.
I took my briefcase and rang the bell. I stood there like a supplicant or a vacuum cleaner saleswoman for a good five minutes before she deigned to open the door.
“Come in.” She glowered at me as if to remind me not to steal a kiss, but I had no such plans.
The curtains were already drawn and she wore some sort of flowery silk robe shot through with gold strands that made her look like Middle Eastern royalty, except for her fair complexion.
“Good evening, Dr. Jeffries,” I said solemnly. I stepped inside and stood still, unwilling to make the slightest move that would displease her.
“Hm,” she said, closing the door and throwing the deadbolts. She also set the alarm. She walked around me slowly, inspecting, and I felt like an officer trainee on parade again.
“Very good. I like people who follow orders. This way,” she said, and she led me through the high-ceilinged great room and down a long hall past several closed doors.
We entered a book-lined room with the latest computer and communications equipment arranged on antique furniture. It was tastefully decorated in shades of green, and I was impressed. The wood was polished and glowing. I heard strains of Chopin coming from somewhere.
There was an enormous desk chair and she took it. “Sit,” she said, pointing to an upholstered side chair next to the desk. I sat. This tiny woman had the carriage and manner of a person in complete command. She would have looked well in uniform or at the head of a boardroom table, which was precisely where she sat when she convened various meetings. She was very sexy and she knew it. The only problem was, I knew she didn't love me like I loved her, if at all.
“You don't look well. What's the matter?” she demanded, peering intently into my eyes. “Didn't you sleep?"
“Yes, ma'am, I did, but I have the impression you're angry with me,” I said honestly.
“Ah. No, Jane, not at all. This is just the way I am almost all the time. I'm not warm and cuddly; in fact, I'm a prickly little bitch. It has nothing to do with you, so try to get used to it.” She picked up a folder. “This is your resume,” she remarked, settling reading glasses on her nose. She looked up at me over the glasses and smiled, and suddenly I felt a lot better. “I was very glad to see you didn't lie to me last night. I would have been quite angry."
I nodded. “Yes, ma'am."
“Did you bring a sample of your writing?"
“Right here,” I said, opening my briefcase and withdrawing a book.
She glanced at it and put it aside. “I'll look at it later.” She sat back in her chair and looked at me. “This is my study. Never come in here unless I invite you. In fact, don't open any closed doors. I may relax the rules later, but I prefer to be strict at first and see how we get along."
“Have you ever been in the military?” I inquired.
“I have not. Why do you ask?"
“It's what they teach you about taking command of a new unit. The very same thing,” I explained.
“I think it pays. You can't toughen up after things get out of control,” she said. Her voice was light and melodious, yet everything she said sounded like a royal decree.
“I understand,” I told her.
“Very good. Now I'll show you your room,” she said, getting up.
I rose with her. “My room?"
“Your room. Come.” She stood aside to allow me to precede her out, then shut the door firmly behind us.
Stepping across the hall, she opened another door. “This is the guest suite. In here, you will reign supreme, Jane.” We went in and as I looked around, she continued. “You will be the dominant and I will be your slave. If we want to play scenes in the other rooms, we'll adjust the rules. In here, you make all the rules, and I will disobey them at my peril."
The room, while very nice, classic wicker, very Floridian, was a bit sterile and obviously not a place in which much living went on. “Um, may I ask a question?"
Lynn smiled at me. “Of course."
“Do I have to call you Lolita in here? May I call you Lynn?"
She bit her lips, but then gave up and burst out laughing, and it was a marvelous sound, one I'd never heard before. She sat down on the bed and pulled me down beside her. Her eyes crinkled shut with merriment. “Oh, please don't call me Lolita any more! I want you to call me Lynn in private, except when you're controlling me and then you can call me all the vile, degrading names you can think of. If you like, you can use my middle name as well, you know, to show me you're serious."
“What is it?” I asked.
“Alexandra,” she smiled. “Do you like it?"
“Yes, it's really you,” I told her. “It's as special as you are."
Her mouth dropped open and she blushed. “Well, thank you, Jane. Now, I'll let you get ready. When shall I come back?"
“Give me 15 minutes. I expect you to knock and wait, and when I open the door, I want you on your knees."
Lynn lowered her eyes. “Yes, Major. Whatever you say.” With a nod, she got up and left the room.
I stood in the middle of the room and took a few deep breaths. The window treatments were all closed but I cracked the blinds for a peek outside. All I could see was some lush, dark vegetation and a corner of the pool, which was lit now that darkness was falling. I walked around the room and turned the bed down. In the bathroom I found towels, tissues, whatever we might need as things heated up. I opened my briefcase and dressed. It felt odd wearing the costume away from the club, but I checked myself in the mirror as usual, laid out some toys and waited.
When she knocked, I opened the door and found her not on her knees but flat on her belly. Acceptable.
“Crawl on in, sub, and let me see your ass MOVE!” I helped her along with a shove of my boot in the crack of her butt.
She grunted with pleasure at the touch. “Mmmm,” she moaned, and stopped in the center of the room.
“You think you're hot shit, with your fancy house and your expensive clothes, but underneath you're nothing but a slut with a sloppy twat. Show me how glad you are to see me, cunt."
She grabbed my ankles and licked my boots in a frenzy. She was no longer in her house, but moving into sub-space, where she belonged. And where, no doubt, she was happiest.
“That's good, Lynn. Good girl. But I still think you need a spanking for being such an elitist little snob.” I looked over at my equipment. The paddle.
“Bend over the bed with your ass in the air. I want you to count and thank me. Then I'm gonna fuck you up the ass with a nice fat dildo. I love to get off while you're screaming."
“Oh, please don't hurt me,” she whimpered as she got into position. But we both knew how much she loved it.
“Shut up, bitch,” I warned her, and I let fly with the paddle, alternating cheeks.
“Jesus! Major! One!” Lynn shrieked.
“Not good enough!” I snarled and gave her another.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. That's two, and thank you. Thank you!"
“Better. Keep going,” I ordered, and I took her up to twelve while I reddened her gorgeous, perfect backside with my oak paddle, the one with the holes in it for less wind resistance. She grunted and groaned and cried, clutching at the bedclothes, but she made no move to escape. She never did.
I tossed the paddle aside and stepped close so I could caress the soft skin where I had stung her. “Ready to be taken?"
“Major, Major, please,” she hissed. “Use me."
“Be still."
I opened my pants just enough to put a dildo into my harness. She couldn't really take a fat one up her ass, but it sounded good to her when I talked like I was gonna hurt her. I lubricated her bunghole and the dildo quite liberally, and slid in. The base would massage me to climax as fast or slowly as I pleased while she writhed and screamed on the other end.
Once in place, I began to drive and grind into her sore, hot fanny. She groaned and pushed back, willing to take more.
“I'm gonna split you in half, you mean little fuck,” I told her. “I'm gonna come so hard you're gonna think a bomb went off up your ass."
“God, yes, do me hard. Come all over me,” she moaned.
“You're lucky it's what I want, or I'd just leave you here with a butt plug in you and your clit on fire,” I informed her, and so saying, I reached around and grabbed her for emphasis.
“Please! Please!” she groaned.
“Should I gag you so the neighbors won't hear?” I wondered aloud.
“Not yet, please, not yet, Major. I mean, they can't hear, but do what you want,” she clarified, bouncing around as much as I would let her. “Oh, God, plow me! Do me! Jesus fucking Christ!” She carried on like absolute street trash.
“I love fucking your tight little ass. You won't be able to sit down for a week when I'm through,” I threatened. “Oh, baby, I'm coming. Wanna feel me come?"
“Drill me! Do it to me! I want it so bad!” Lynn pleaded.
“Unnggghhh! Ahhhh! Uhhhhhh!” I grunted harshly as I came to make it better for her, to make her feel more used, and to make myself sound meaner. As a matter of fact, I hate dildoes. I don't feel male, don't want to be male, don't want to be perceived as male and don't think they come any better equipped than I do. But so many women who play at D/s seem to want this, so it was my job to learn to accommodate them, and I did it pretty well. So many women who had been hurt by men, or were afraid they would be, or both, still wanting to be fucked with a phallus. It drove them wild, and they didn't get hurt. Who am I to argue with success?
I pulled out and flipped her over on her back where she wiggled like a bug with all its legs in the air. “I need to come! I need to come!” she was screaming.
“If and when I get good and ready,” I panted.
“Fuck me! Fuck me!” she screeched.
I slapped her. “Shut up, Lynn. Don't you dare tell me what to do."
She moaned. I doubt she even felt it, but she subsided and watched me. “What are you gonna do to me?” she asked thickly.
I was changing to a large, gel-filled dildo that I knew she could take from the front, and that she would like. It would get warm and feel almost real to her. “I'm gonna have you the way I want. I don't do this for you. I don't care if you come. If it were up to me, you'd eat me till I explode and I'd leave you writhing on the floor. Now spread for me. Nice and wide."
Her legs flopped apart like a rag doll's and she reached for me. As the false organ slid in, she arched and made a sound deep in her throat. Her hands clutched at my ass and drew me in, and even though I was a little sensitive from my previous orgasm, it felt good. I kicked her legs further apart with my boots and settled in hard and deep.
“Slow, baby. Nice and slow. I want you to wait,” I told her, and I kissed her, for the first time that day.
Even though I had fucked her hard and rough, our kiss was gentle. I explored her with my tongue and I could feel her sucking me in, so deeply. I moaned with happiness. This was what I had really wanted all along. I wanted to be nice to her, but at the same time, I knew that didn't work for her. It wasn't what she wanted.
“Lynn, you sleazy little fuck. You're such an easy lay. You're so weak,” I breathed in her ear as I moved in her pussy, ever so slowly.
“I. Need. To. Come,” she grunted, trying to press up against me.
But she didn't move me. And it wasn't that I was so much bigger and stronger than she. Lynn was a lot stronger than most of the women I ever did. She chose to be passive, but it was definitely her choice. Yet, I hoped another strong woman was exactly what she wanted, because she was exactly what I needed.
“Ohhh, Major,” she breathed. “You're so demanding and selfish. You're so totally brutal."
Great, I thought. If this wasn't the most ironic screw of my life, I didn't know what was.
“Move, bitch,” I ordered. “Make me come."
She began to thrust and writhe under me, using all her strength. I didn't expect her to do all that work for us; it was just the idea that she had to please me or I would punish her, or worse, ignore her.
At the same time, I began to move with her, keeping it slow and steady. “Oh, God, yes, Lynn, that's what I want, just like that. Don't you dare stop. I mean it, Lynn; if you stop, I'll tie you up and not let you come for hours."
That did it. She heaved under me as the climax took hold of her and shook her entire body. A garbled scream tore from her and nearly deafened me, and her nails dug into my shirt and my back even through the fabric.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” she bellowed as she gushed all over the place. Lynn's almost involuntary flailings pushed me right into orgasm after her, and I pounded down into her as hard as I could to feel all of our pleasure combined.
Finally she subsided. I shuddered one last time and lay still on top of her. “Oh, that was great,” I said fervently. “Damn it, woman, you are the best!” We kissed deeply then, like lovers do, not like people who would rather be with someone else, not like people who pay for it. Like lovers. Her tongue was velvet, and I was gentle with her, as I had ached to be for so long.
I pulled back a little to look into her eyes. She looked up at me and a sly grin flitted across her features. Lynn had my heart firmly in her steely little grip, and she knew it, and what was more, she knew I knew it, too.