The Nightingale Agency Pt. 09

Eve sits in her SUV, down the block from Jonathan's house. Being a dull, suburban Wednesday evening, the fever of spring brings most out of their houses, making the neighborhood substantially busier than usual. She grumbles under her breath, softly cursing the innocents that wander about, preventing her from alleviating her sexual frustrations in the car. When the clock flashes 5:45, she can bare it no longer, knowing that if she forces herself to sit for another ten minutes, she wouldn't care who walks past and catches her pleasing herself.

Dressed a bit more low key than last time, she ditches her coat and grabs her bags. She takes her time, keeping her pace casual, as if she were out for a pleasant stroll in four inch heels. Strange eyes still wander her body, but she finds herself lingering at the fence of the old man who greeted her last time. With an easy smile, he seems unbothered by her presence, "Back again?"

She returns the smile, "Yes, we're scheduled twice a week. May I ask, have you noticed him at all?"

He eyes her, wanting to ask something, but chooses to answer her question first, "Funny you should say that, but yes. Every morning for almost a week now, I've seen him jog past my house around six. Seems you've had a positive influence on him..."

"Ah, yes, well that is what he pays me for," she says with a smirk.

"Oh," the old man replies, giving her a cheeky grin, "and here I thought you were only a hooker."

"Well...not only," Eve says wickedly.

The old man laughs, waving at her as she continues on, "I'll keep an eye on him for you."

When she arrives at his door this time, he opens it before she reaches the top step. Eve steps directly inside, without stopping or acknowledging him but instead heads straight for the living room. She notes that he already moved the coffee table out of the way; by the time she has set her bags down, he appears before her, kneeling. She finds his eagerness endearing, "Stand up and slowly turn for me."

Jonathan does as he is told, shyly covering his dick with his hands. As Eve inspects his body, she realizes that she wasn't mistaken; his weight loss is subtly visible, most notably around his face and belly. Eve hands him the measuring tape before making a quick turn about the house, affirming that he has been keeping up with his tidiness.

After she jots down his numbers, she has him weigh himself.

"Two forty-five, Mistress," he says softly, standing before her.

Sitting in the chair as she jots down the number, her brows furrow. She looks up at him, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," he says, almost questioningly.

She nods slowly, "That is too much, too quickly. It hasn't even been a week, I'd barely expect five pounds gone...which means, you aren't being honest with me. Are you taking a supplement? Skipping meals? Forcing yourself to vomit?" Her voice is harsh, but she is genuinely concerned.

"No," he says quickly, "I just...well, I wanted to make up for last week. There is a gym in the lower level of my office building. Some of the guys hit it during lunch and after work, and they invited me to join, so I've been doing that too. We lift weights during lunch and run the treadmill after work. I'm...sorry? I guess I should have asked for permission."

Eve eyes him; when he meets her gaze, she can see the sincerity of his intentions, his true desire to please her. Combined with her amplified arousal, she feels her body yearn for attention—for his attention. She nods and looks away, staring blankly at her notebook though her mind is a swirling jumble of emotions, "That is fine. I would have appreciated you asking and for future reference you will defer to me about things like this, but I can see your..." she trails off, losing her train of thought when her heart starts to steadily increase. Shaking her head, she adds, "You need to go about this correctly. I don't want you to be pushed so hard that you resent making the effort and ultimately return to how you were. Do not cut any meals or snacks; if you are hungry, eat. You just need to make sure that you are choosing the correct choices. Eventually, I'll ease you back into consuming pleasure foods."

"Yes, of course," he says, pausing briefly before adding, "...Mistress."

The breathy, soft, yearning tone of his voice instantly sends a tingle down her back. Being overly aroused, sexually amped higher than usual, she can feel her legs trembling, the wetness seeping from her velvety folds. Eve immediately stands up, so quickly in fact, that Jonathan takes a step back in surprise.

"On your knees," she says rather sharply. Watching the man drop down, she feels a streak of anger sear through her; she begins to wonder if she is losing her edge. Between allowing Lucas to faux dominate her and giving him liberties, and Jonathan causing her an immediate physical reaction, Eve feels like she is losing control of her body.

From her tool kit, she retrieves the riding crop. Using it, she corrects his posture by spreading his knees slightly apart before directing him, "Lean back onto your heels and rest your hands on your thighs. This is your resting position; unless you are moving or doing as I tell you, I expect you to assume this position." Eve trails the end of the crop over his chest, before landing a swift smack to his belly, "Now, let us see if last time was a freak occurrence, or if you actually do enjoy this..."

She sees Jonathan clench his jaw, his face burning red from humiliation; she is pleased to discover that she doesn't have to remind him to count.

"One," he says, voice low, quiet, threatening.

Eve repeats her movements. She lands the next slap quickly, but makes him suffer the anticipation of the following one. Slowly she circles him, continuing her assault, all the while watching his cock throb, slowly engorging from nothing to a firm, hard, pulsing creature. And seeing that the pain has the ability to excite him, excites her.

"Forty," he exhales with a wince, waiting the next smack.

Eve stands before him, still fully clothed, whip in hand. She feels it, deep within her, the desire to succumb to this man, her own yearning to be turned back into an object, a play thing, reflected in the beginnings of his self discovery. With his eyes focused on her, she drops the whip. Eve tries desperately to control her shaking, excited hands, as she slowly unbuttons her shirt, letting it fall from her shoulders to the ground. The air feels cool against her hot breasts, her nipples perking in excitement at both the temperature and the look in Jonathan's eyes as he fixates on them.

She slides the skirt down her legs, stepping out of it and kicking it to the side. The slickness of her arousal shines on her inner thighs, her chest rising and falling as she restrains her panting. Allowing her eyes a brief moment of pleasure, she glances at his hard cock, unconsciously licking her lips. She wants to taste it...she wants to suck it. But she can't, not just yet.

Eve leans over to Jonathan, staring him directly into his glazed over, desperate eyes. He knows what she is now, and despite that, he wants her even more. Slowly, she closes the gap between them, letting her lips brush his before dragging her tongue along his cheek and sucking up his ear lobe.

"Bend over, my pet," she whispers softly.

Jonathan willingly obeys his own breathing heavy as he drops to his hands and knees, keeping his legs slightly apart. Out of his view, Eve slips black latex gloves on her hands, oiling them up with lube from her bag. Walking behind him, she can see his tight, puckered ass hole, ripe for the picking. Greedily rubbing her hands together to lube them both, she kneels behind him, between his legs. Her hand trembles like an inexperienced school girl as she reaches for his dangling cock, wrapping her fingers around it, their first real physical contact. She knows it won't take him long by the way his heartbeat pulses in his dick and by the reddish purple color of the tip. Giddy with excitement, Eve slowly strokes down ward before pulling all the way back to his shaft.

When he moans out, she reaches with her right hand and teasingly circles the opening of his ass. He flinches, caught by surprise; when Eve freezes, ceasing the movements of her left hand, Jonathan almost whimpers. Continuing the slow stroking, she applies the slightest bit of pressure against his asshole; when he doesn't pull away from her, she increases her speed and eases the tip of her finger inside. Steadily pumping his dick with her left hand, she fucks him with a single finger until she finally gets enough of it in that she can curve it and stroke his prostate. Almost instantly, he involuntarily wails as his cock spews his syrup all over the floor. Though she lets up the fervor of her speed, she continues to slowly draw her fist up and down on his dick, her finger gently rubbing his prostate until the very last bits of cum dribble from the tip of his cock. Feeling it soften in her hand, she withdraws her finger and lets him go.

Removing her gloves, her body still overly heightened, she kneels before Jonathan. With his limbs shaking from the tremendous pleasure of the orgasm, he has a hard time looking up at her.

"Lick it up," is all she says.

Without hesitation, Jonathan scoots backwards on all fours. He lowers his face to the carpet area covered in his cum and licks up his mess. After he gathers the last bit of it with his tongue, Eve slips her hand under his chin and around his throat, forcing him up onto his knees. The hazy, glazed over look in his eyes remain. Eve closes the gap between them, mashing her lips to his, swirling her tongue in his mouth to taste the slightly tangy, salty cum. Jonathan kisses her back with surprising eagerness, though he is tender and gentle. Once Eve realizes her heart is pounding, her body is aching, her skin is burning, and she has already swallowed most of his cum, she discovers that she is enjoying the kiss way too much. Eve pulls back, letting him go suddenly.

Jonathan's body sways and he struggles to keep his hands on his thighs, "I'm sorry, Mistress."

Eve stands, turning her back to him as she walks to the arm chair; she uses her moment of privacy to close her eyes and collect herself, "For what?"

"For...cumming without your permission, Mistress," Jonathan says embarrassedly.

She sits down, crossing her legs so that the obvious wetness is hidden from view, "Yes, well...you will ask from here on out."

"Yes, Mistress," he replies, without missing a beat. Eve looks him over; she is taken aback by the quickness of his adaptability. Never before has she had a man so eager to fall into the role, so desperate within their own life that they needed someone else to take control. When their eyes meet, she hears Jonathon draw in a sharp breath. He hesitates, wanting to ask something, but afraid of the answer.

"What is it?" she snaps. She doesn't mean to, but she is wound so tight that she can't help but come off as agitated.

"I...uh...how can I please you, Mistress?" he asks hesitantly.

Eve eyes him, jaw clenched. She wants this, she needs it, especially after being wound up so tight all day by Lucas. But she feels something different about allowing him to attend to her desires. Something, that if not kept within check, could utterly destroy her. Eve wars against herself, her mind battling her body, each struggling to assert their dominance. Looking into his eyes, she sees his yearning; going against her better judgment, she leans back in the chair and drapes each leg over the arm before scooting her ass down to provide him access, "Get over here," she growls.

Trying not to seem too eager, Jonathan crawls across the carpet on all fours to her. He sits back on his heels, his naked body close to hers, his hands trembling on his thighs as he looks up to her for approval.

Placing her hands on her knees, she keeps her eyes locked on his, "I want you to continue looking at me. I expect you to bury that face into my pussy and not stop until I have had my fill."

His breathing is shallow, perspiration beading on his forehead, "May I touch you with my hands, Mistress?" He asks quietly.

"As long as they do not penetrate me...yes," she says, waiting for him to begin.

Jonathan's large hands slowly rise up; carefully, as if approaching a wild animal, he places each open palm on either of her inner thighs, very lightly squeezing her flesh. The feel of his foreign skin against hers, the way he kneads her flesh while looking into her eyes sends Eve's heart into overdrive. She watches him slowly lean down towards her waiting cunt, his tongue parting his lips before he finally makes contact with hers. Warm, moist, firm, he drawls out a long solitary lick against her pussy, only to follow with another and another, minding her instructions and keeping his eyes on hers.

Eve lets her head drift to the side, resting it on the cushion of the chair, "Mmm, very good; it seems that you may be able to arouse a woman after all. Now, use that marvelous tongue of yours and part my folds, then flick it across my clit."

Immediately obliging, she feels his wide tongue wiggling between her pussy lips until the tip teases her clit, darting across it quickly. His hands continue to massage her thighs, yet they hold them open and in place when her legs start to tense. Eve appreciates the tact with which he accomplishes this, as he makes it seem to be his desire to touch her instead of an act to prevent her thighs from clamping around his head.

"Now, suck on it. Gently," she says, her voice deep and airy.

Jonathan's face rocks back and forth into her pussy as he forces his way between her cunt lips and gently clamps his mouth around her clit. Ever so slightly, he starts to suckle on it, while his tongue flickers across the length. Eve draws in a long slow breath, holding her orgasm at bay. She is pleased to note that he has great technique and probably had no difficulties in orally pleasuring a woman; she begins to suspect that his shortcomings in bed were due to a general lack of experience, however it will not be something she will be able to determine first hand.

Feeling the rate at which his tongue strokes her clit increase, Eve is unable to contain herself much longer. She reaches a hand forward, stroking the side of his face with the backs of her fingers. The intimacy of the touch causes him to close his eyes and lean against her approving hand; but her nimble fingers quickly slide up his face and through his hair, clenching it into her fist. Ever so slightly, she pulls him closer to her needy cunt; Jonathan takes the subtle hint and presses his face forward, sucking harder as his tongue roughly flicks her clit. The slight pain and pressure is enough to push Eve over the edge; letting out a loud moan, her pelvis raises against his mouth. Her legs try to clamp shut, but his strong hands keep them firmly in place. Only when the pitch of her moan changes and is broken up by a whimper, does he cease his relentless attack on her pussy. Drawing back slightly, he uses his wide tongue to slowly lick her lower slit, hesitant to cease the intimate contact between them.

As the bliss floods her body, she releases her hold on his hair, sinking back into the cushions of the chair. Her heart continues to pound. Finding it difficult to keep her eyes open, she lets them drift shut as she floats upon the sea of pleasure. Ripples vibrate through her body as Jonathan tenderly explores her folds with this tongue, eagerly searching for more to taste while he rests his cheek on her inner thigh. Eve's breathing slows as her body returns to normal; she opens her eyes to discover that Jonathan is still watching her, his tongue still idly tracing her skin.

Slipping her hand under his chin, she lightly pushes him away so that she can sit up. Eagerly, he waits on his knees, hands placed on his thighs. She knows by the look on his face, he wants her praise. Despite working in the industry and constantly being around sex, getting and giving multiple orgasms a day, it isn't as often that Eve receives as powerful as the one he just elicited. Knowing the weakness that it caused in her body, Eve opts to slide out of the chair and sit on the floor in front of him, her skin tickled by the lush rug beneath her. She pats the spot next to her, waiting until Jonathan takes it before she extends her legs and crosses her ankles.

Nervously, he leans his back against the chair, choosing to keep his knees up so that he can hide his dick as it begins to grow hard again.

"Jonathan, I should apologize to you," she starts, "It wasn't a very professional thing for me to do, to push you so far so quickly. I am sorry."

He shakes his head slightly, unsure, "I don't know what you mean, Mistress? Did I not do a good job?"

She snorts, "You did a wonderful job, Jonathan. Any woman would be lucky to have you. I am the one who did a poor job; last Sunday when I arrived, I wasn't in the right mindset. I wanted to get you to terminate the contract and I abused the power that I have over you. Normally, with one such as yourself, I would have never whipped you as hard, as much, or as soon into our relationship as I did. It varies from person to person, but I should have waited a lot longer, until I was sure just exactly how you would react. I shouldn't have repeated the process today either, and I most definitely shouldn't have rushed into sexual contact. For that, I am sorry."

Jonathan is silent. After several minutes, he asks, "Can I be candid, Mistress?"

"Yes," Eve says, staring off into the distance.

"Thank you for the apology. I...I was not in a good place, before you came along. Yes, it was shocking to discover just exactly what it is that you do for men, but you were my last ditch effort to get me to a better place in life. I've tried therapy, I've tried alcohol, I've tried drugs—none of them had ever affected me so quickly as you have. It did come on suddenly, and I was furious at the thought of being whipped by a woman, but with each lash I discovered that I craved another, that I wanted more, that I needed more," he rubs his face with his hands, "That sounds sick, I think, that I like the pain. I'm not even sure how to explain it. All I know is that obviously I wasn't doing a very good job with my life, so I am more than happy to put it in your capable hands. Mistress."

She draws in a deep breath, relieved that he doesn't fault her for her mistakes. Letting her eyes blur, she speaks softly, "We enjoy the pain because it offers an almost tangible release from the emotional stresses of everyday life. It provides us with something to focus on, true, physical pain that can be felt and healed. It doesn't always arouse, though, I'd say perhaps one in fifty craves it that much. The juxtaposition of the two feelings, pain and pleasure, can elevate one well past the average orgasm to a state of pure bliss," Eve knows she is getting in too deep on the subject, one that she shouldn't be molding with her view but rather let him discover on his own. She rises, glancing at the clock, "We still have some time left; normally, I would choose how it is spent, but this time I will let you. Is there anything you want to do to finish out our session?"

Nervously, Jonathan slowly brings his eyes up from her feet, over her legs, past her pussy, to her breasts and eventually, he meets her gaze. He doesn't want to ask, as he is afraid she'll see him as greedy, but from the somewhat gentle look in her eyes, he feels comfortable around her, "I'd like to please you again, Mistress."

Eve instantly raises an eyebrow. She'd expect the answer from a fully trained sub, but never from a new one, "All right...no penetration, obviously." She begins to sit back down in the chair, when a movement from Jonathan stops her.