The Devil and the Sea Ch. 02

[Recap: Anya wants to learn how to top Jen so with Henry's help they've concocted Mistress X, an online domme profile, but there's always the danger of something beneath the surface with Jen. It's all just harmless fun, isn't it?

This is book 2 in the series. You're welcome, though not required, to read book 1 'The Monogamists' for the backstory]

THE NEW STUDENT

We were drunk, the three of us, heading out on Friday night, or early Saturday morning as it was now. Jen's team had kicked on massively from work drinks, celebrating closing the accounts on another financial year.

"Every year it's the fucking same," Jen was saying. "As if no-one gives a flying fuck about an invoice until we're two days out from the end of year." She weaved her way towards the door, uncertainly, in ankle-snapping stilettos.

Anya had switched to water about two hours back, her petite frame less able to handle alcohol than either of us. We'd worked our way through a few bars before finding ourselves in a club with the usual crowd from work, and now at the end it was just the three of us, after Jen had seen Lillith off.

"That bitch," she'd muttered, "She can just fuck off. You belong to me!"

She wiggled a finger in my direction. I loved drunk Jen. Alcohol seemed to amplify her, until she got to a stage where she could just dance all night. She was kissing me when a guy sidled up next to us to make conversation with Anya.

I couldn't blame him. Anya had changed from her work appropriate blouse and skirt into kitten heels and a little black dress with a plunging u-shaped neckline that just begged attention to her ample cleavage. Jen had matched her with a similar style in deep burgundy, but being taller and slimmer-chested, it didn't have quite the same impact. I kept an eye on the newcomer and I saw that so did Jen.

I heard him ask Anya her name, and what she did. I almost expected him to ask, "Do you come here often?"

Anya answered in low tones, with the shy look she gives when she's being guarded. It was her usual line of defence, given that she was beautiful and obviously standing around with folded arms waiting to go home.

"Tell me," the guy asked, "What do you look for in a partner?"

Anya sized him up for a moment, then replied, "A really sizeable pair of...," she paused for effect, "Tits."

She turned and kissed Jen full on the mouth, and then me.

"Let's bail. I'm really done," she said, sliding her arms around each of our waists.

As we got to the door, I sneaked a look behind me. The guy was still standing in the same spot, mouth open.

So, we bailed, three of us in a cab, Anya in the middle because she was the smallest.

Jen snorted. "What a prick! Did you see the look on his face when you kissed me?"

"Such a prick," Anya agreed. "He must have seen the ring too." She held up her hand to the light.

Jen and Anya wore matching wedding rings, simple unadorned bands of gold.

Jen snorted again, slurring her words slightly. "Fuck, I am sooo glad to be done with that chatting up shit. Clubbing is the worst."

"Which is what we both told you at midnight," I said, "And you ignored us."

Jen waved a hand, "We needed to dance. Sometimes you just gotta boogie. I love clubbing."

Anya rolled her eyes. One or the other of us was going to have to deal with this tonight.

I looked at Anya. "Rock, paper, scissors?"

Without a word she made a fist and put it next to mine. We shook fists twice, and she shot two fingers out. I had flattened my hand out instead.

"Paper covers scissors, babe," I said hopefully.

"The shit is this?" Jen interjected.

Anya shook her head and sucked in her breath as if in pain. "Ouch," she said to me, "How's it feel? You really screwed that up."

"Hey!" Jen called from the other side of the cab.

"One of us gotta take one for the team, Jen," I said, grinning.

"Looks like you won!" Jen grinned back at me somewhat unevenly. Her hemline had worked its way high up her thighs, and in the intermittent illumination of passing streetlights I was treated to a view of the silky-smooth skin of her long, toned runner's legs.

Jen grinned mischievously and shifted her hips slightly. She looked me straight in the eye as she began to spread her legs slowly, forcing the dress to ride up higher and higher. Her fingers snaked into the darkness between her legs and she wriggled. Jen pulled her hands down and I could see a flash of colour caught in her fingers. She wriggled some more until I could see that, very slowly and silently, she was pulling her panties down her legs and over her knees. She grinned again, soundlessly, and let them fall to her ankles. I was aware that all the banter had stopped and the cab was now completely silent except for the sound of the engine and the tyres on the road. She bent over to collect her panties from the floor of the cab and deposited them into her handbag. Then she leant back and spread her legs wider, forcing the dress up to expose her crotch.

"Oh, not fair," I said.

"That bit's pretty fair," Jen replied. "This isn't fair though."

I watched as her left hand snaked down to her knee and then delicately traced its way up her inner thigh. I shook my head slowly. In reply, Jen nodded. Her fingers wound their way up her inner thigh to brush against her pussy lips. Silently she extended her index finger and brushed it over her clit, pausing there for a moment before slowly burying her index finger inside herself up to her second knuckle. I felt Anya's thigh shift in her seat, and I realised she was watching Jen too.

Jen slid her finger out and held her hand up in the air. The streetlights flashed on her wedding ring and the slick moisture on her index finger. She cocked an eyebrow and looked from me to Anya and back to me, her cheeks flushed and a small smile playing on her lips. Slowly she moved her hand through the air, pointing her index finger at each of us in turn. I watched it snake back and forth between us before moving towards Anya's face.

Jen's expression softened and became almost kindly as she touched her moist finger against Anya's lips, parting them and sliding her finger inside.

"Now that I have your attention," she breathed, "Tell me, who's gonna be taking one for the team?"

---

In the apartment, we sat on the couch, in a row, drinks in hand, with music in the background. Apparently, the night wasn't over and I could tell that Jen was working her way towards a roaring finale. I was drunk as well, and especially now that Jen had poured what appeared to be a quadruple gin and tonic into my glass. Anya once again sat between us, playing along but much more reserved. Despite the alcohol, something in the back of my mind was bothered by Anya's manner: nodding, smiling but something else. Waiting.

Jen had dropped her long legs across both our laps, pinning us to the couch while she sang along to the tune. Her dress had now ridden all the way up, exposing her crotch for the world to see. She was having the time of her life, sipping gin and belting out the choruses. Anya was absently stroking the inside of her thigh. I tapped her hand and she turned to me. I frowned at her, to ask if she was okay. She surveyed me steadily for a moment and then drew herself up straighter.

Oh fuck. Now? Fire in the hole.

"Hey, babe," Anya said, tapping Jen's thigh to get her attention.

Jen's head swivelled round to find the source of the disturbance.

"Hey," Anya said again, squeezing Jen's thigh this time.

"Yeah?" said Jen.

"Henry and I have been thinking," Anya continued.

Jen struggled to pull herself more upright and took another sip of her drink. "Thinking?" she said, "Good or bad?"

Ana ploughed on, "You remember two weeks ago, we had that...."

"Fight," Jen finished, "Or, I dunno, whatever." She sat up a bit more.

"Well, I...," Anya began, and stalled. She looked at me, and I realised she was appealing for backup.

This was not the time for the conversation, I thought, groaning inwardly. But Anya had already pulled the pin.

"We had a good talk," I said, "About what happened. I wanted to help so I did some thinking, and some research."

Jen groaned. "Oh fuck, am I going to get analysed?" she said and rolled her eyes up to the ceiling.

For some reason that goaded me. I knew how much Anya had agonised over this, and how much effort she was prepared to put in for the woman she loved. I decided to dispense with the niceties and get straight to the point.

"I went and found you someone to talk to," I said, "Maybe."

Jen snorted dismissively, waved her drink in the air, said, "Really? Who?"

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Anya, who was much more sober than either of us, beginning to get upset. The conversation was quickly veering off the rails; I suddenly realised that Jen's history of questioning her sexuality would probably have involved negative experiences with psychiatrists. Jen was building up to a signature 'fuck you' moment.

I put my drink down heavily on the coffee table and leaned forward intently.

"Don't you fucking go and call me Jennifer," said Jen, her mood darkening.

"I'll call you want I like," I replied, forcefully "And you will listen. I'm not asking."

I slid my hand lightly along the inside of her calf, daring her to make eye contact. My fingers passed her knee and ventured up the inside of her thigh. I saw her demeanour change as I fell into character: I had her attention.

"Put the drink down," I said.

She complied.

"Now listen. And don't interrupt until we're done," I warned her. My fingers continued to trace a pattern on the silky skin of her thigh.

I drew in a breath and began, "From what Anya told me, it sounds like you want to experience how it would feel if it wasn't me in charge of you, but you found it difficult letting Anya take control." I paused to let my words sink in. "So, I began to wonder how we could give you a chance to explore this part of you. Trouble is, that a woman taking control is hard to accomplish if you're not willing to accept it from your own wife. That meant we had to look further afield."

Jen's attitude had changed completely now. "We?" she said.

Anya spoke. "Yes, we did some research and we think we've found someone that might be open to helping you explore, if you want to."

Jen sat fully upright now, drawing her legs off our laps and tucking them underneath her. I could tell that she was wary.

"What have you done?" Jen asked at last.

"Nothing yet," I replied. "Phone."

Jen fished her phone out of her handbag and gave it to me. I tapped the screen a few times and brought up a page. I gave it to her.

"It's up to you," I said. I got up from the couch, collected my glass and Jen's from the table, took Anya's untouched drink from her hand and disposed of them in the kitchen. When I came back into to the living room, Anya was observing Jen intently while Jen scrolled through the profile.

"I'm going to call it a night," I said.

Anya took the hint and swung off the couch. "Me too."

Jen looked up at us both.

"And you're sure you're okay with this?" she asked, incredulously.

"We found you the profile, she seems to check out," I replied.

"It's up to you," Anya added.

"We're going to bed. Don't stay up too late," I said, "And whoever's bed you end up in, don't bloody snore."

We left Jen on the couch; Anya stopped by her bedroom door. I waggled my phone at her, she understood and nodded. I went to the toilet, brushed my teeth and got changed for bed. Jen was still in the living room, so I left her to it and went to bed. Just as I began to drift off to sleep, my phone vibrated. I fumbled for it and looked at my messages.

Anya: I got a message!

Me: That was fast. What does it say?

Anya: "I saw your profile and I was wondering if we would be able to talk."

Anya: What should I do?

Me: Leave it. Mistress X would not be hanging by her phone at 2 o'clock on a Saturday morning messaging randoms.

Anya: Okay

Anya: Excited

Me: Same. Night night

Anya: Goodnight x

A short while later I heard Jen slide into bed next to me. She snuggled up close and I could feel from the warmth of her body that she was naked. I pretended to be asleep, leaving her with her thoughts. I was sure it was going to be a long night for her.

---

We sat under the shade of a tree on an outside table at the café a block down from our apartment. Of the three of us, Jen was most affected by last night and seemed particularly uncommunicative. She hadn't once mentioned the proposition and, purposefully, we hadn't asked.

However, we had discussed it in detail earlier while Jen was in the shower. Anya had a message ready to go on her phone.

"I'm gonna get a juice," Jen announced, hauling herself upright. I watched her walk up to the counter and give her order to the waitress.

"Send it," I said to Anya.

Anya tapped her phone as she switched seats to have a better view of Jen waiting by the counter. At first nothing happened, and then Jen suddenly twitched. Her hand slid into her jeans and she brought out her phone. She seemed to be frozen in place.

"This is so good," Anya whispered to me.

"Yeah, but the question is will she answer back?" I replied.

Jen brought her finger to the screen and hesitated. Then she began punching out a lengthy reply and stopped. Anya looked at her own phone, expectantly. I could see the conversation from last night, and the message Anya had just sent:

X: Who am I talking to? Describe yourself, thoroughly.

Jen seemed to be frozen again. Then I saw her tap her screen one more time. Anya's phone pinged and she nearly dropped it.

"You'd better disable notifications," I said, "That's going to give the game away. What did she say?"

Anya was reading the message, her eyes wide. Finally, she showed the screen to me.

J: I am a 25-year-old bisexual woman in a loving relationship. I have been given permission to explore my interests in being controlled by a female. I saw your profile and I am wondering if you would be interested.

"Now what?" Anya said, then she slid the phone across the table to me.

"You want me to type?" I asked.

"This is your department!" Anya replied.

I looked at her for a moment, and said, "But this is about you learning what to do with Jen. You should be answering."

"Just help me out," she said, "Please. I'll take notes."

I relented. Keeping the screen where we could both read it, I typed a reply.

X: I said thoroughly

We both watched Jen. We saw her jump as the message reached her a few seconds later. This time she seemed to be typing for a long time, pausing frequently. The waitress called her name and passed Jen her juice, which Jen took and then placed back on the counter as she continued typing.

When the response came back it was much more detailed. Jen had listed her attributes, from eye colour to height, to bra size, that she was an accountant and was married.

I replied back.

X: Never send me personally identifiable information. That's for your own protection, and mine.

X: Also, I do not expect to have to repeat myself. By thoroughly I mean down to the details of what you are wearing and salient anatomical characteristics. If you can't get this right I have better ways to spend my weekend.

"Salient?" said Anya, "Thanks. How the hell am I supposed to keep that up?"

Jen looked up from her phone. I waved and she waved back. Then she began to type again.

"Okay, this time, whatever she says, we don't reply," I said. "We're just going to let it simmer. Oh, and we don't ask her anything about Mistress X. I'll be really fascinated to see what she volunteers."

Anya switched notifications off and left the phone on the table for us both to read. Jen began to walk back to us, and I saw the screen fill with words. I moved the napkin dispenser in front of the phone so Jen wouldn't be able to see it when she sat down.

"How's your juice?" Anya asked.

"Oh great," Jen replied, "I really needed it. I'm starting to feel like shit. You know it's gonna be a bad one when it doesn't even start to show until ten the next day."

Anya laughed. Jen smiled, and the phone screen showed that Jen had just disclosed encyclopaedic details of her clothing, underwear, the appearance of her breasts and genitals, the depth of her vagina, and size of her clit to a complete stranger.

---

Anya and I regrouped later that day, out on the balcony of the apartment. Jen was in a bedroom, reading, but I suspected from her steadily lowering mood, probably brooding over the lack of response to her messages.

"She really took the bait," I said.

"Big time," Anya agreed. "I really, like, wow. She told me everything. I mean told her."

"What do you want to do next?"

Anya wrinkled her nose. "I really don't know. What do you think?"

"Lesson number one. Are you ready?" I asked.

"Hit me."

"You're in charge. She gets rewarded if you allow it, otherwise she misses out."

"Okay. So I need to assert my authority?"

I could see Anya contemplating this.

"But it's got to be exciting for her. Ordering her to do the dishes is not gonna work," I said. "You have to make it something that's hard for her. Something that involves sacrifice but that she'll be really into. Remember, Mistress X already has detailed knowledge of what makes Jen tick. Plus, we get to see how it affects her in real time. Jen's going to think Mistress X can read her mind."

Anya's face betrayed her thoughts. I could see she had an idea. "I'll type and you proof-read, how's that? I think she'll really love this."

I grinned and said, "Let's go!"

Anya angled her screen so I could watch as she typed.

X: Thorough enough. Is your husband very pleased with your body? Do you please him regularly?

"Husband?" I asked.

"Yeah," Anya replied. "I was thinking about it. We have to only reply to what Jen told us in the message. That she's married and she's looking to explore the female side. I'd assume she was married to a man."

"Fair point," I conceded.

I watched Anya's face as she waited for a response. The H word still stung a little, though I had denied it to both women. I'd told them both that wedding rings and being the husband weren't important and they had seemed to accept it at face value: we hadn't talked about it since. The truth was that since the wedding I had begun to imagine myself on the outer, as the unofficial partner in the relationship. I realised just how perceptive Jen had been that day sitting on the rock: Anya wouldn't have been able to deal with being on the outer like that; it would have driven her away.

J: He is very happy with me. He makes love to me regularly.

"She's going with the husband thing," I remarked. Then I had an inspiration. "Can I send the next one?"

Anya passed me the phone.

X: Are you seeking a relationship outside of your marriage or a lesson in control? You must always be completely honest with me.

"Hey!" Anya said, "That's..." she trailed off. "What if she says yes about the relationship?"

I felt a twinge. I hadn't expected that. Why had I asked that question? I realised that I had asked because that was what Mistress X would ask. She would want to establish parameters and boundaries. I hadn't contemplated that this might be an exercise in uncovering uncomfortable truths.

"Maybe we should stop," Anya said. "I could just dress up in the latex now and walk in on her. It would blow her mind, and...."

The phone interrupted her: Jen's reply was waiting. We looked at each other, but neither of us moved to tap the screen.

"We're already in," I said at last. "We opened her eyes to this. I don't think she would have gone near in a million years without us bringing it up last night. And now she's sucked in. If we go and blow it up as some kind of stunt, how's she going to react?"