Days Off with Lindsay - Megan Pt. 02

There are some alternating perspectives in this part! I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 3

Him

"She'll be here," Reuben said when I went into his office.

Becca had sent me the video as soon as she'd received it. She was so pretty. Fresh out of the shower, her hair damp and laying gently over her shoulders, perfect white creamy skin looking delicate in the soft glow of her simple bedroom. She wore a blue silk night dress, short and thin enough to see her nipples, just barely excited enough to poke out.

Her eyes had gotten all wide as she'd begun to watch, biting her lip in the sweetest way, and stopping her play as she'd gotten too close. Watching me fist Bella in the video had sent her over the edge by surprise and she'd blushed fiercely, her pale skin getting flushed and red, her pupils dilating. Amazingly enough, she'd ruined her orgasm. Then she'd sworn when she'd realized she'd fucked up. It made me laugh. She hadn't even gotten halfway through. She was going to be so much damn fun.

"She's probably out of practice, as she hasn't had a proper Dom in five years. But she's well trained and will fall back into submission quickly."

"She's beautiful," I said.

"She's the most obedient sub I've ever had." He said it with pride and gentleness. "I only wish she had moved on sooner."

"Is she ready?"

"I believe she is."

We discussed ideas, and how we would do it. Becca arrived an hour later with some more insight. She grinned when she saw me. "See, I told you that you were her type," she laughed.

At the bar on Saturday, things had gone exactly as planned. There were just enough people around, more men than women, none of them anyone she'd played with before, and nobody who she knew well; just enough to know their names, and wonder.

That was half the fun.

The other half was that tight little body I couldn't wait to get my hands on. Narrow shoulders and a perfect flat tummy, small delicate breasts, a pert little ass, and such an expressive face. I knew she had a tattoo that ran down her spine, starting at the nape of her neck and ended who knew where. I'd seen it once when she wore a black shirt that was cut low in the back, that elegant yet heavy chain disappearing into her shirt. Each little bump on her spine was framed by the tattoo of a chain link.

Becca said she hadn't done a scene in almost a year, that she wasn't allowed to watch any porn, and that all her play had been solo with select toys that Becca controlled. "I thought if I got her horny enough she'd be more open, but I think it backfired. She doesn't come to play parties and she won't respond to anyone unless I set it up for her. She's been depressed."

"What can you tell me about what she likes? Besides her kinks. I think I've got those down."

"She's the kind of sub that gets off on submission itself." Reuben thought carefully about his description. "She likes high intensity, swift punishment and reward, intense, rough play. But she's not a masochist; pain is a good punishment for her, not a fun scene to look forward to, but she loves taking it as long as you show her that you love giving it. Above all, she likes the adventure. She likes the ride. She likes the game."

Becca nodded at what he was saying. "She's all for intensity, that's for sure. I think the most fun she had was one week when I took her up to the cabins, the big one? On the top of the hill with all the rooms? She was a free-use slave for a group of fourteen for four days. God you should have seen her face. She was floating the whole damn time."

"We've got to plan something like that." I smiled at the idea.

"Win her over first." Reuben was absentmindedly running his fingers over the leather box on his desk. "Keep her guessing, thinking, and excited. Hold back as much as you can and give it to her a bit at a time. Let her figure it out slowly. Do everything in your power to keep it a secret as long as you can. The journey itself will be an edging session... that's how I won her over myself. It took a long time, and we were long distance for the first year, but it was worth it."

A more concrete plan took place in my mind. "I'll need her phone number."

"You can have it Saturday after your session, when she tells me it went well."

I nodded, thanked them both, and left the room, excited for the next chance I got to re-watch that little video clip. I was going to memorize the look of her eyes widening and her jaw dropping open, since she was going to have to be blindfolded for a while. Excitedly, and a little nervously, I thought about how much I would enjoy the look on her face when she finally figured it out.

Chapter 4

Megan

He took a step closer to me, and I held my breath, waiting for the first touch. It didn't come. "Breathe," he whispered in my ear. I could feel his warm breath on my neck and ear. "I hear it's been a while. Is that true?"

"Yes sir." I exhaled slowly, trying to calm myself. My heart was racing.

"Should we fix that?" He was just close enough that I could barely feel his lips against my skin, and it sent nervous hot waves through my body. I felt him smile.

"Yes please, sir." My voice was breathy. The anticipation was killing me. Questions flooded my mind; would he be rough or gentle? What did he like? What did he feel like? What did he taste like? Would he like me?

"May I touch you?"

The question surprised me. It had been so long since anyone had actually asked me that. Although technically I always gave consent, it had been ages since someone had straight-up asked.

"Yes sir." I took comfort in the ability to agree.

A finger at the nape of my neck, dragging a delicate finger down just to the edge of my blouse, carelessly tracing the chain tattoo. "This is lovely," he whispered.

"Thank you, sir."

"Do you have any others?"

"Several, sir."

"I'd like to see." his voice was more authoritative with that statement; it was a command, not a preference. Strip, it said. Show me.

I answered by unbuttoning my blouse, quickly, from the top down, but not hurrying. It came naturally, like muscle memory taking back over, the exact speed that I'd been taught that was fast enough to not drag, but slow enough to not look rushed or desperate. Obediently efficient. If I'd known I would be doing this today, I would have worn a nicer bra, I thought to myself. Today I was just wearing one of my ugly camisole sports bras. I tugged it up over my head gently, careful not to accidentally pull off the blindfold.

Having finished removing the items, I folded them gently and bent my knees to set them on the floor, careful not to push back against him as I did so. I straightened, and hesitantly began to unbutton my jeans, but I felt hands on mine and I gasped.

His fingers, though I could only feel them on the backs of my hands, were calloused and rough. I sighed a little and felt myself relax a little, a hint of a smile twisting my mouth. Of course they'd be rough. Why would Mr. Weston send me into a room with a man he knew wouldn't turn me on? A flash of desire went through me and I wanted those hands all over my body.

"Wait just a minute," he whispered against my ear. "Slow down. Why don't we take these one at a time?" He re-buttoned my jeans, and then his hands settled on my waist. "Tell me about this one first."

"I... I got it after I got my collar," I whispered, taking another breath to steady my voice. "He kept me on a chain at night, in a cage under his bed... I said I wished I could wear my chain all the time, and so he let me get it tattooed."

"Do you miss it?"

I was a little surprised at the question. "The chain?"

"Sleeping in a cage like a dog."

Unexpectedly, tears stung my eyes. I nodded, dropping my head a little, unable to speak. I missed all of it. In this moment, with the rush of excitement and fear, I could be honest. I hated my job, I hated my ugly little apartment, I hated going home every night to an empty house and an empty bed. I missed a collar around my neck. I missed the security of having a master, an owner. A leader. I missed the friendship and the connection. I missed the love and the relationship and the trust. I missed that I was always kept on my toes, never knowing what would come but knowing that no matter what, I would be taken care of and I would be safe.

I shuddered with the effort of not crying. Embarrassed, my cry turned into a laugh and then a cough. I focused on my breathing, trying to calm myself and put myself back here, in the present moment, not in the past.

"Would you like to stop?"

"No sir." I shook my head. Give me a chance, I wanted to say. Please, just one chance.

"Why don't you show me another one. I heard a rumor you have one on your hip." His hands stayed on my hips as I unbuttoned my jeans, and began trying to push them down. I couldn't really do it without rocking my hips a little, and I felt myself brush against him. As I struggled, his hands moved down a little, and he helped me push them down, just to the middle of my thighs.

I could see the anchor clearly in my mind's eye. Similar to an old-fashioned navy anchor tattoo, it had a whip wrapped around it instead of a rope. I felt his fingers trail the whip, rough enough that the brushes were almost scratches. I shivered and another gush of warmth went through me.

"Very pretty."

"Thank you, sir."

He took a step away from me, and instantly I missed the warmth. It was like a gust of cold air replaced the place he'd been, nearly pressed against me. That was quickly alleviated as his hands went back to my jeans and finished pulling down my pants to my ankles. He held one of my hands as he lifted one foot at a time, sliding off my shoes, then my socks, his fingers strong and confident as they removed my shoes, then pulled the pants off my ankles. I bit my lip, embarrassed. Why did I wear jeans today? Why didn't Becca warn me on what to wear? Then he slipped his fingers under the waistband of my panties and gently pulled them off as well. I heard him sigh. Was that a sigh of excitement or desire? Or disappointment? God I wish I could see his face, I thought.

"That's much better," he said, and stood in front of me. I was completely naked in front of a stranger, or maybe a friend. My body itched for him to touch me again, but he didn't, he just stood in front of me, studying me.

"Ah, there it is," he said. "That pretty rose. I do love that one."

My heart thudded in my ears. Only Becca knew about my rose tattoo high up on my inner thigh, right where my thigh met my pussy. I'd only gotten it a few weeks ago, and I hadn't shown it to anyone. How had he—

I gasped as I realized. "You... Sir did you..."

"Yes, Becca sent me that adorable video that you took on Wednesday. I couldn't stop staring at that rose. I wanted to see it in person."

I bit my lip and let out the tiniest whine. Humiliation made my whole body burn hot. The heat settled between my legs and spilled out just a little, wetness coating the tops of my inner thighs.

"What's wrong?" he asked, but it was mischievous.

"It wasn't a very good video," I murmured. Becca had told me to 'make it a good one.' I'd failed on that count royally.

"Oh, I quite enjoyed it... Did you enjoy mine?"

I knew it, I thought. I knew it was him. I nodded, not trusting my voice.

"Did you ever finish it?"

I shook my head. "I thought I might- " I choked, and swallowed, trying again. God, why did this man disarm me so powerfully? "I thought I might cum again. I hadn't in a month," I said, like I was defending myself. The image of his fist pressing into that girl sprang into my mind, and I remembered the evil chuckle as he began to roughly fuck her. A tiny tremor went through me.

"Let's talk about the game," he said, righting himself and standing right in front of me. "I have a few rules. The most important one is that you must communicate with me. Always be honest. Never lie. But you know that, I'm sure." A finger brushed my cheek.

"Yes sir."

"Two. You will wear that blindfold at our meetings and you will not take it off."

"Yes sir."

"Three. I am going to give you little rules and tasks to do throughout the week. You'll follow them exactly."

"Yes sir."

"Four. You don't cum unless I say."

"Yes sir."

"Safeword?"

"Blueberries."

Then I felt a hand on the back of my head, and a finger of his other hand brush gently over my lip. I gasped.

"Megan." God I loved the way he said my name. Like it was special. Like he knew it, and had been thinking about it for a while.

"Yes sir."

"Let me tell you what is going to happen." He took a step closer to me, and I could feel the fabric and the buttons of a shirt brush gently against me.

"I am going to kiss you. And then I'm going to tease you. And then I'm going to leave you." His words rolled over me like a wave, starting soft and teasing, but getting more and more commanding. "And when you go home, you're going to watch the rest of that video, all the way to the end. You're going to set up your phone, like you did before, and record yourself watching it... And you're going to be a good girl, and keep your hands to yourself. No touching. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?"

"Fuck," I breathed. His voice was mesmerizing, and his breath was warm as it wafted over my face. He smelled like whiskey. "Yes, yes sir," I said shakily.

And then slowly, painfully slowly, he held my head steady as he leaned forward towards me. He hesitated, so close I could feel him. He was right there, close enough to feel but not close enough to touch. God, what would he feel like? How would he kiss? I was horribly nervous, and soaking wet. I think I sighed or moaned or something. He chuckled. Fuck that sound was enough to make me gush. Then he gently brushed his lips against mine.

They were soft, and warm, and the kiss was tender, just enough to let me feel it, but not enough for... anything. It just wasn't enough. I wanted more. I tried to lean forward but his hand at the back of my head tightened in my hair, keeping me still. I sighed as his lips nibbled at mine, kissing me so, so tenderly and slowly. My whole body tingled and I felt alive. More, I thought. I need more. I opened my mouth just a little wider, and let my tongue slide out, just barely brushing against his lip.

He froze, for just a moment, and he let out a low growl against my mouth. "You poor girl," he whispered against my lips, sending shivers all through me. His voice had changed from the warm, confident, slightly arrogant tone it held before to gruff and a touch darker and sadistic. "You want more, don't you? You like it rough, and hard, and fast. I warned you I was going to tease you." He held me just far enough away from him that I couldn't reach him, and I let out a strained sound. I sounded like a whiny child. Should I beg? Drop to my knees and press my lips to his shoes? My body ached with the painful desire to release after my ruined orgasm on Wednesday and my denial over the past four days.

"Maybe next time. If you're good and do as you're told."

I sighed in resignation. I still ached, I still wanted more, but something settled over me. It was the confidence and understanding that I could do as I was told, and the anticipation that there would be a 'next time.' And there was a relief that came with an order. It was a silent order, but an order nonetheless. Stop trying.

His hand left my hair when he felt me stop struggling. A finger traced my jaw line and my neck, and stopped right before he reached my collar bone.

"Get dressed, and come out when you're ready. Keep the blindfold... you'll need it." And then he was walking away, his shoes clicking on the shellacked cement floor. The door opened and shut quickly, and I was alone.

I removed the blindfold, found my clothes, and dressed quickly, gently folding the blindfold and placing it in the pocket of my jeans. It wasn't until I got dressed that I realized he had taken my underwear.

Breathe, I thought. Fuck. This was going to be a ride.

I was so damn excited.

Chapter 5

Megan

When I'd come out a few minutes later, peering around the corner, the only people left in the room were Becca, and Mr. Weston. They both looked at me anxiously. I smiled, feeling myself blush again.

Becca held up a hand for him to high five. He did so, though somewhat awkwardly. As I neared them, Becca stood and handed me my purse.

"How did it go?" she asked, smiling.

"That was a punishment?" I asked, slightly confused.

"I never said it was," she smiled, her grin taking on a bit of that evil dominatrix grin she got when she teased me.

I glanced at Mr. Weston and he was looking at me, his expression guarded.

"I'm good," I said softly. He nodded once.

The three of us left the bar. I checked my phone and my eyes widened as I realized it was half-past two in the morning. I was going to get zero sleep tonight. Thankfully it was Saturday and I didn't have to work in the morning.

When I got home, I did as I was told. I set up my phone, and opened the link I'd received before, placing myself in the same position as I had the first time, only I decided this time I wouldn't wear anything. He'd said he had enjoyed the first video, and I wanted to make sure he enjoyed the second. I turned on the hallway light this time, so the room was just a tad brighter than before. I started the video, looked into the camera, and said, "Good evening, sir." Then I reached forward and hit play, clasping my hands behind my back so I wouldn't have the urge to disobey.

Just the act of sitting there, doing as I was told, and knowing he was going to watch, made me so happy, and gave me a boost of confidence. The familiar trickle of desire edged down my body, my submission to my invisible Dom settling on me like a weighted blanket that calmed me.

My Dom. I sighed happily at the thought. Don't get too ahead of yourself, I thought. But I knew I was hooked. We both did.

The rest of the video was just as good as the first. After the girl in the video had taken her fisting, he had fucked her asshole while he held a wand on her clit. He fucked her hard, forcing her to come over and over until she cried and screamed, and then she quieted, and I could see her descend into that beautiful dark, warm place where she felt everything, but nothing mattered. Her face was flushed and sweaty, and she looked so serene and peaceful.

I was breathing hard and had certainly let out a few accidently moans watching the thing, but had diligently kept my hands clasped behind my back. At the end of the video I could tell he was going to turn around, and my eyes flew open, excited and hopeful.

I should have known better. Perhaps the original video showed his face, but whatever version I'd been sent had been cut, ending with a blur, just as his face would have come into focus.

"Damnit," I said, and then remembered I was recording. "Sorry, Sir... Thank you for letting me watch." I leaned forward and turned off the recording, and shut my laptop.

Should I send it to Becca? I wondered. How would I get it to him? But when I checked my messages, there was a text from an unknown number.

"Good evening, Megan. Send me your video when it's finished."

I sent the clip to the mystery number, and then added him to my phone, just as "Sir." Then I decided to send a short message.

Megan: I enjoyed our evening, Sir.

Sir: I'm so glad. Come tomorrow evening. Around seven.

Megan: Yes sir. Is there anything you'd like me to wear?

Sir: It won't matter, it won't be on for very long... Be sure you bring the blindfold... Sleep well.