Cynthia's Education

I still loved her. I couldn't walk out of her life. Heaven help me, I said yes. She held me for a brief period longer, and then told me I should get dressed and go home. She gave me permission to masturbate when I got there and said I could use any fantasy that worked for me. Not surprisingly, my fantasy was her in an unending rut with my idea of the guy she'd slept with, and eventually I exploded with bitter tears in my eyes.

Two days later, I received a standard email from her, and we resumed our normal routine. And even though what she was doing hurt my feelings, and I went through the occasional weeping spell. Now that she was sexually active, she seemed more divine than ever.

She always did tell me when she was going to be on a date, but I never learned who she was seeing, never met them, and had no specific idea of what was happening, except to the extent that she would let me know sometimes that she had slept with someone the night before.

As we went into the fall, I fell in with a group of new friends, some of them from work. Unlike previously in my life we all got to know each other rather well. They all knew I had a thing for Cynthia, and some of them had figured out she mostly called the shots and I wasn't necessarily getting a lot of action. But if any of them had figured out the extent of my servility, they were kind enough not to mention it.

For obvious reasons my evenings were a lot more free now. We all decided to go together to a U2 concert that was coming up at a nearby outdoor arena. Cynthia was nuts for U2 and so I figured she would be going with a date. I figured also the arena was big enough she wouldn't ever see me as long as I was careful. My friends and I all arranged that I would just meet everybody inside. For my part this was so if Cynthia had any last minute chores for me, I could get them done without inconveniencing anybody else.

About four the day of, I was just starting to get ready and think about what I could have for dinner when the phone rang. It was Cynthia. "Gregg, I need your help. Stephen's car broke down." Stephen was the guy she had been seeing for the last couple of weeks. "I need you to drive us to the concert, and take us home when it's over."

I think I agreed as much because I was curious as anything else. I wanted to get a look at this guy she was, well . . . fucking. And for whatever reason, at this point I just didn't care about the possible embarrassment. So I said yes.

So some three hours later I pulled up at her apartment. She and her date weren't waiting at the curb, so I went up. I knocked on the door but no answer. I called her name, but still no answer. Finally, the door opened and she was wearing a short robe, her hair in a mess, and a guilty grin on her face. "Just wait here for a few minutes. I'll let you in when we're ready," she said. Her wink felt like a knife in my heart.

After about five minutes she opened the door. I stepped in. She gave me a quick glance toward her feet. Immediately I knelt down and kissed. As my head came up I saw she was wearing a glorious club dress I hadn't even known she owned. She looked radiant. "We just couldn't help ourselves," she giggled. "Stay on your knees a second." She looked over at her date, and said, "Stephen, this is my slave Gregg. Gregg, this is Stephen."

We shook hands awkwardly, and nodded. He looked like he was a little confused, but he didn't look unhappy. "Well, go to it Gregg," Cynthia said. "Bring the car right up to the step and make sure to hold the door for us." I did what she told me.

They sat in the back. On the way over for the first part of the drive Cynthia just talked casually to Stephen and to me. He was a senior at the university. "I like them young," she said with a grin. The second part of the drive over, I guess they just got intoxicated with each other, and they started making out, and ignored me for the rest of the time.

When we got to the arena, I drove them straight to the gate. As I opened the door to let them out, Cynthia said, "It's too bad you're going to miss this concert. I want you to wait over by the taxis and limos, and pick us up right as we come out. Can you do that for me? I nodded slowly. "Don't just nod. Speak respectfully to me," she said.

"Yes," I said.

"I said respectfully," she repeated.

I understood. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good boy," she said. Then she grabbed Stephen's hand and they went on into the concert. This actually fit my plans. I figured she would insist on staying until the last note was played, so if I excused myself a little early before the encores, I should have no trouble getting back to the entrance in time to meet the two of them.

I parked my car, went into the concert and met my friends. At the first intermission, one of the women pulled me aside and said, "I saw you at the entrance acting like a little slave boy for that Cynthia. I think that's lousy. You really do need to get straight with yourself, and be a man." I'm not sure what I replied, but U2 came back on stage and we all got lost in the music. I didn't forget what she said, though.

Just as the band was getting to the end of its second set, I told everyone I was not feeling entirely well, and thought I'd go home and get an early start on bedtime. People wanted me to stick around, but in the end everyone was pretty understanding. As I left, though, the woman who had talked to me, whose name was Susan, gave me a long look and a discreet wink.

I got my car and went around to the taxi stand. As I looked over to the entrance, I realized my well-laid plans had just gone to the dogs. There was Cynthia, standing with her date, and looking very impatient. Immediately I drove over to them, got out of the car and held the door. From the look she gave me, I understood the old Greek myth that said Medusa could turn a man to man to stone with just a glance. She was truly, truly angry.

Immediately she sunk into Stephen's arms, and murmured something about how I had been a bad slave, but she would punish me later. Right now she had better things to think about. They made out the rest of the way to her place.

When I got there, I pulled to the foot of the steps, went around the car and opened the door so they could get out. As she got out of the car, she looked me straight in the eye, and said, "You'll get what's coming to you. Be sure of that." Then she grabbed her date's arm and they went up to her door. They looked very eager to get inside.

For two days, I didn't hear from her. Then the following morning there was email. "Come over at noon," it said. After she let me in and I'd kissed her feet, she put her hand on my shoulder to keep me on my knees. "You really screwed up not being at the entrance when I told you to be," she said. I kept my silence. "Normally, you know, I'd spank you within an inch of your life and just send you home to meditate on what you did wrong."

"Yes, ma'am," I said.

"That's very good," she said. "I like your contrite manner. I'm going to give you a chance to make it up to me; to do something very special for me. Are you willing?" I wasn't sure what to expect. The eager look in her eyes made me worry, but certainly it couldn't be worse than the kind of spanking she described. So I said yes.

"OK," she said. "This is what I want. Stephen is coming over in a few minutes. I want you to be a perfect servant to us both, and to do whatever I ask while he is here." This frightened me, but I only nodded weakly. "You will address me as ma'am and him as sir today. We intend to enjoy ourselves fully, and you will do everything you can, and anything we ask, to make it good for us. Do you understand?" I told her yes.

"In particular, I want you to greet him at the door the way you would me." I knew what this meant, and I really didn't want to. She noticed and said, "You agreed to this, and you know what the consequences are if you back out. I think you need to decide for real right now, because it will only be worse if we go further and you back out then. I promise you that.

I thought for a moment. "Yes, ma'am," I said.

"Excellent!" she replied. "Go ahead and go into the kitchen and start with our lunch." I counted myself lucky I'd had the presence of mind to eat before showing up at her place. A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. I answered. It was Stephen. I invited him in, closed the door, knelt down, and kissed his feet."

"That's a good boy," he said in a contemptuous tone as I got back up. "She's trained you well. More her credit than yours, I'm sure."

"Thank you, sir," I replied, my face hot and red. "Look at that, honey. He's blushing," said Stephen as Cynthia came into the room. "Don't just kneel there like a rock," she said. "Get back into the kitchen," As I turned to do so they caught each other in a passionate embrace. "You're totally awesome," she told him. "There's no one like you."

This hurt, but I just went to the kitchen and finished preparing lunch. I served it in a semi-formal spread with some white wine she had picked out. I stayed nearby placing and removing dishes, and keeping their wine glasses filled as they chatted happily away, catching up on the news of the last two days.

"Get us some coffee, will you," Stephen said. "And bring it to us in the living room," Cynthia added, grabbing him by the hand. They went in, and by the time I brought the coffee, they were cuddled up on the couch. She was glowing like something divine.

I moved to the edge of the room while they continued their conversation and began kissing. After about a half hour of this, Cynthia looked up at me and said, "Clear off the coffee things and come kneel before us." I did as I was told and presented myself a moment later.

"How important is it to please me?" she asked.

"It's the most important thing in the world, ma'am," I replied.

"Are you willing to do what it takes today?"

"I'll do my very best, ma'am."

"Not very brave, is he," snickered Stephen. This really bothered me.

"Oh, honey, just give him a chance," Said Cynthia. "He'll show you just the way he's shown me."

"OK, babe. I trust you," he said back with a grin.

"Gregg," Cynthia said to me. "I want you to go into the kitchen, take off all your clothes and present yourself naked to us."

This wasn't like her at all. I began to get very nervous, but she didn't seem to notice. Stephen did, though. He caught my eye as I got up to go comply, and he chuckled. A couple of minutes later, I was nude and kneeling before them.

She produced a blindfold, and bound my eyes. "I want you to get down, take off both our shoes, and worship our feet," she commanded. "And I don't want you to show any favoritism either. He's your master today, just as I'm your mistress." This was getting more and more strange.

Regardless, I got down, felt around, removed their shoes, and began kissing and worshiping their feet. Above me, I began to hear the soft sound of caresses, whispers and moans as they began to make out. In a few moments I felt a piece of clothing land on my back, and heard the whisper of another as it landed behind me.

They continued this for a moment or two until, I guess, all their clothes were off. It looked like they were going to do the deed right on the couch. This was very unusual. Prior to this day, Cynthia had never been completely nude without a closed door between the two of us. Even when I'd gone down on her regularly, she had never removed all her clothes, but only lifted her skirt or pulled down her pants. When she had invited the girlfriend over, she sent me home before any clothes came off. And I had never been inside the apartment when one of her boyfriends was there.

Even though, as always, she had me blindfolded, and I couldn't see anything, this was very much a new departure for her. I wasn't really sure I liked it. Very quickly now, their feet came off the floor. He kind of kicked me as that happened. "Stay down," Cynthia whispered to me. I did as I was told.

The sounds of frenzied lovemaking continued and got louder as the minutes went by. Images of her pleasure in rhythm with the sound raced through my mind, and I felt myself getting excited. They went on for quite some time, their moans punctuated by shouts as one or the other of them reached climax. There were several rounds of shouts, and once Cynthia reached down and patted my head, but that was all the contact I had.

Finally, Cynthia said, laughing, "Enough. Enough, you maniac. You've exhausted even me."

"There's more where that came from," he replied.

"I know, I know. Maybe later," Cynthia said, and they both chuckled. The obvious affection between them hurt me a lot, even more than the fact that she was making love to him with total abandon after so many years of refusing me.

After a few moments of snuggling and chatting together on the couch, they both sat up. "Gregg," Cynthia said. "Kneel up." I did so. "This is where you really are going to prove your obedience," she said. "I want you to go down on me right now." She placed her hand on the back of my head, and began to caress.

"You mean in front of him?" I asked frantically.

"Yes," she said.

"Did he even use a rubber?" I continued. At this she let go and slapped my face. "That's none of your business right now. Besides, you're going to find out soon enough."

She had told me she had gone back on the pill when she had started dating again, so I knew it was likely she had not had him use a rubber. "I think there's too much risk of disease, I said, frantically looking for a way out. She slapped my face again. "That's a huge insult," she yelled. "Are you questioning my judgment?" I shook my head weakly. "If he's safe enough for me, he's safe enough for you," she said. "Now are you going to do what I say or not?"

I shook my head again. At this, Stephen said, "I don't think you're showing the proper respect to this lady," he said, as he grabbed me roughly by the hair. "I want you to apologize."

"I'm really, truly sorry," I said in a low voice to Cynthia. "You need to apologize to Stephen, too," she said. "I'm sorry, sir," I told him, although I hated like poison to say it.

He said, "Maybe if Gregg thinks he's too good to go down on you, he needs to go down on me."

"I like that," said Cynthia. "I think he needs to do that. He's got to do something to make up for how he's behaved." Stephen, who had maintained his grip on my hair, gave a hard pull, and tried to drag me over to his crotch.

At this point I just lost it. All the frustration, and jealousy, and humiliation, and yes the anger from how she had been treating me, and how she was allowing Stephen to treat me just boiled over completely, and instead of sucking his dick, I just started beating the stuffing out of him.

He was a good looking well-built guy, and I think fancied himself a bit of a jock. But I had boxed a little in high school and played baseball my first two years of college, so even blindfolded I was able to handle him.

I heard Cynthia screaming in the background, "Get off him! You're hurting him! Stop, Gregg! Just stop!" I felt her pulling on my shoulders. I told her, "I'll step back, but if he makes so much as a move toward me, I'm right back on him."

"OK," she said. I backed off, and she moved quickly around me and into his arms. "Oh honey, I'm so sorry," she moaned. She said over her shoulder to me, "Leave the blindfold on, find your way to the kitchen, get your clothes, and get out of here. Just go."

After close to four years I knew my way around her apartment pretty well, so I turned and slowly made my way into the kitchen where my clothes were, pulled off my blindfold and dressed. By the time I peered around the corner into the living room, there were only scattered clothes lying there. The bedroom door was shut, and I knew that's where they were. I just went to the door and left.

For days afterward I waited in vain for email from Cynthia. I was afraid to call her. It began to dawn on me that the last little episode might be the end of my connection with her. When I wasn't working, I kept on hanging around with my new friends. I also found myself spending more and more time with Susan.

She was dark haired, thin, intense and kind of cranky. But she had a lot of interesting things to say, and I liked her anyway. One day, we were walking in a park, and sat down together on a log. "You know," she said to me. "I'm getting tired of your standoffish ways. You're going to have to step up to the plate and be a man, or I'm just going to have to dump you," she said laughing.

At this, she reached over, grabbed hold of me and kissed me hard. I kissed back and kissed back with enthusiasm, so help me. After a moment, I pulled my head back and said, "I can't. You know I'm loyal to Cynthia."

"She's sure not loyal to you," Susan said. "I've seen her around town canoodling with that obnoxious guy she sees. I even saw them together at the U2 concert. I think everyone knows except you, you idiot. I think she's taking you for a ride" I didn't know what to say, but I knew I was angry, angry at Cynthia for all the years of taking advantage of me, and especially for allowing Stephen to try to take advantage of me. The thought nearly made me vomit.

I knew what to do. I looked at Susan and told her, "OK. So you want to see what kind of man I am? Let's go over to my place, and we'll see." We went there, and I've got to say, it was pretty good.

We didn't go the whole girlfriend-boyfriend route. She said she wasn't ready for that, but our bond did grow, and we saw each other one or twice a week. She turned out to be pretty bossy, and seemed to get her way almost all the time. However, she had no interest in obedience rituals, or any kind of kink. She was lusty and enthusiastic, but strictly vanilla in her sexual tastes.

For over a year I didn't hear from Cynthia. Then, several months after she'd graduated and moved out of town, I got a letter. It had a west coast postmark, but no return address.

"You were right about Stephen," she wrote. This was strange, because she and I had never discussed him. "I don't know why I didn't see it. About a month before I graduated, I caught him cheating on me. That was it. I haven't seen him since, and don't intend to."

After a little more about her life since she moved, she closed like this, "I was so sad after your last outburst. I felt like I couldn't trust you any more. It seemed like you'd lost your focus and didn't care about me. Your violence shocked me. I do miss you, but I couldn't continue to see you. I seriously doubt you'll ever find the discipline you need, but even so, I wish you all the luck in the world. Affectionately, Cynthia."

That was the last time I heard from her. I married Susan a few months later, and we were good together; we even considered having a child. The crowd of friends I met with her began to drift away over time as some of them moved away and most of the rest turned their attention to their own kids.

Susan kept a pretty tight handle on me, but we did have fun together, and the loving stayed good for quite a while. I became very successful at work and was promoted to be the head of my old department.

Nevertheless, sometimes, late at night, when I was alone because Susan was having one of her frequent girls' nights out, or I was on the road for my job, my thoughts would turn to Cynthia, and my heart would ache for the bliss there was so often when I was with her.