The Scorned Young Woman Pt. 09

While I was having my way with Kathleen, Chelsea was meeting Cassandra. Chelsea was nervous as she approached Cassandra's house, and once she had parked and was walking up the sidewalk she nearly turned and left. Then Cassandra opened the door and there was no turning back.

"Hello," she said as Chelsea climbed the steps. She reached a hand to Chelsea and the women shook. "I'm Cassandra Fitzpatrick. We've never been properly introduced. You are Chelsea."

"Hi, Cassandra," Chelsea said demurely, looking down.

"Look at me when you speak, dear. What's your last name?" she asked, still gripping Chelsea's hand.

Chelsea gazed into Cassandra's green eyes and noticed her pouty lips again. "Beauchamp, Chelsea Beauchamp."

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Chelsea Beauchamp, please come in. Don't worry, I won't bite."

Chelsea stepped through the door and looked around. Cassandra's home was beautifully appointed, with hardwood floors and white walls, and decorated in light colors. It looked like a page from a home decorating magazine. Chelsea stifled a laugh. For some reason, she'd half expected Cassandra to live in a dark dungeon, with restraints on the walls and burning torches.

"You have a beautiful home."

"Thank you, I try to keep it up. It can be a challenge with a teenage boy flopping around the place. Please have a seat." Cassandra motioned to the sofa, and Chelsea took a seat on one end. Cassandra sat in a chair next to her. Chelsea noticed that Cassandra was wearing the same chain choker as that night in Jason's bedroom but in the full light of day, she could see that the back of the choker was leather and the chain was attached by D-rings that fell under each ear. Chelsea wondered if she'd worn it intentionally, to remind Chelsea of that day, or to embarrass her.

"That's an attractive necklace," Chelsea said.

"Thank you, it means the world to me. It's Jason's."

"Do you mean Jason gave it to you?"

"No, I mean it belongs to Jason, just like I do," Cassandra explained. "It's one of several he's provided me with, to be worn for different occasions. This is my favorite because it was the first one he placed around my neck."

Chelsea regretted asking what she thought was an innocuous question. Now a portion of Jason's and Cassandra's relationship was laid bare, and it was a rather disturbing portion.

"I'm not one for small talk so let me clarify some things," Cassandra began. "Jason said that you were upset when you found me strapped to his bed."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Ma'am is your grandmother. Call me Cass. Only my closest girlfriends call me that, and, well, since you've seen me naked I guess we're pretty close. He said you're afraid of him now."

"Yes. I don't understand how the Jason I've come to know could be so cruel to another human. I'm trying to understand. And it's not like I hide from him, or wince when he touches me. Heck, I still snuggle with him at night and I enjoy spending time with him. It's just that I have this nagging feeling that I might say something, or do something, that will set him off. My ex-husband yelled at me and shoved me. I can't live with a man that would be violent to women. What I saw sure looked like violence toward a woman." She felt her eyes start to well up.

"Let me start with the bottom line, and then we'll go to the kitchen and have lunch. We can talk some more while we have some food and wine. Do you like wine?"

"Yes," Chelsea responded.

"Good. So, you said you fear him, but believe me, you should never fear Jason. The man you thought you knew is the real man. He will not strike you in anger, not ever. I've never even known him to raise his voice in anger."

"That's what he said, Antwon too. But I need to understand why he was doing that to you before I can truly believe it."

"Fair enough, I have lunch set up on the kitchen island. We can sit there and talk more."

They moved to the kitchen where Cassandra had set up a charcuterie board. She poured them each a glass of wine.

"So, first, let's start with terminology. Jason and I have a different kind of relationship. It's called Dominant and submissive, and it's part of what's called BDSM, which stands for Bondage, Discipline, Sadism, and Masochism. There are as many variations within BDSM, and even within Dom/sub, as there are colors. In our relationship, Jason is the dominant, or Dom, and I am the submissive, or sub. But it's not always gender aligned, where the man is the Dom and the female is the sub, I know of several wealthy and powerful men that enjoy being dominated by a woman. Do you understand so far?"

Chelsea nodded.

"So, what you saw was Bondage and Discipline. I was bound to the bed and he was disciplining me for an alleged transgression that I'd made up. As a form of punishment, Jason and I use a measure of pain. We find that it heightens our sensations and excitement during sex. We both enjoy the pain, him giving it and me receiving it. That's where the S and M come in. Jason is a Sadist, someone who enjoys administering pain, and I am a Masochist, someone who enjoys receiving pain."

"So, you want him to beat you?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"No, don't use that word. It implies something harsh and uncontrolled. The level of pain he inflicts on me, and how he does it is very controlled. Controlled by our agreement, and while he's doing it, by me."

"He said you had some form of contract."

"Yes, and I have it right here. Would you like to see it?"

Chelsea nodded and Cassandra slid the document across the island to her. As she read it, her eyes got big.

"That's very specific."

"Yes, as it should be. This document, and our trust in each other, are what allow us to exchange power. His dominance is an expression of his power. I let him lead, and I surrender my power to him. His connection to my heart allows him to express his strength, power, and authority without being controlling, domineering, or abusive. His devotion to me prevents him from mistreating me. He respects and cares for me more deeply than a lot of husbands do their wives. He creates a safe space for my deep, complete surrender to him."

"He said the same thing. He said you have an almost spiritual connection."

"I am more his than his wife ever was."

"I want that kind of connection with someone someday."

"I don't think what Jason and I do is the only way to get that connection, but I do think you have to ask yourself some questions about any man that you want to be in a relationship with. You need to play Twenty Questions with yourself."

"What questions should I ask?"

"Well, does he listen to you and remember what you say? If he answers "uh huh" or doesn't remember things you have told him, that is a warning sign. Does he spend time with you without expecting anything in return? Trading time together for time out with the boys is not right. Does he make sacrifices for you, even if they're small? Does he miss you when he's not with you? Texting you, or calling you to see how your day is progressing is a healthy sign. Is he always there when you need him? Is he comfortable around you? Does he support your dreams and goals? From what I've heard Jason is pushing you in this area. Does he stand up for you when you can't defend yourself? Does he do thoughtful things for you? It doesn't have to be monetary. Does he keep his promises to you? Does he admire and respect you? Run from a man that disrespects you. Does he give honest and constructive criticism? Does he only want the best for you? Does he listen when you're upset? Do you feel safe around him? Does he pay attention to your likes and dislikes?"

"I could answer yes to all of those when I think of Jason, other than maybe feeling safe, but I do in general, it's just this nagging feeling. He's very strong in those last few questions, supporting me and such."

"Yes, those questions define Jason, whether it's his friends, his lovers, his employees, or me. But I will tell you, he will also push you, push you to be better, and in the case of our relationship, he pushes me to explore my limits. He's never made me do something I didn't want to do, but he has helped me discover things I never imagined I'd beg him for again and again."

They spent the next hour talking more about Cassandra's and Jason's lifestyle and what it means to be dominant or submissive. They also discussed the various forms of punishment that a Dom might use, behaviors that a sub might exhibit, and many more BDSM topics. Cassandra did her best to answer Chelsea's questions. As they wrapped up their conversation, Cassandra reached across the island, took Chelsea's hand, and they looked deep into each other's eyes.

"Chelsea, if you want this type of connection to any man, if you want to devote yourself to him completely, then you must have a level of communication, trust, and respect that are nearly flawless. If you want that with Jason, you must trust him. This is, because from what you've told me you are building positive communication and it's obvious to me that you have each other's respect. I know it's easy to say and difficult to do, but if you can do it, give him your unwavering trust, and surrender your power to him, then he can take you to places you've never imagined, both physically and mentally. After you left us that night, I experienced a state of speechless rapture that I'd never experienced before. At that moment my heart nearly exploded with adoration for him. I've been with other Doms, but none like him. And it's not just about the companionship or the amazing sex, the way he treats me, and cares for me; he owns me, my heart and soul in a way no other man ever has. If that's not what you want, or if you struggle with it, then at least do not live in fear of him."

"Thank you for lunch, Cass, for all the information, and the advice. You've removed my trepidation and I promise you that I will not fear him any longer. Based on what you've told me I don't know for certain that I want to pursue being a sub for any man, but at least you've armed me with information. I hope we can be friends."

"I'd like to be friends, Chelsea since we both have feelings for Jason, and if you have any more questions, or just need to talk, I'm here for you."

"Call me Chels, that's what Jason's daughter calls me. I should probably be going."

Cassandra walked Chelsea to the door and before leaving, Chelsea hugged her. With her head pressed against Cassandra's chest, she could hear the redhead's heart beating rapidly. It nearly matched the beating of her own heart. Still holding each other, their eyes met. Chelsea raised onto her tiptoes and offered her plump lips to Cassandra. Cassandra took the offer. Their lips met and their tongues touched, tentatively at first. What started as a gentle kiss quickly developed a sense of hunger.

Chelsea swooned as Cassandra held her in her arms and kissed her passionately, their tongues probing and exploring. After a moment, Chelsea pressed her hands against Cassandra, breaking the kiss. They stood there looking at each other, breathing rapidly. Chelsea was the one to break the silence.

"I've never kissed another woman, and I can't say I'm ashamed of kissing you. I've wanted it since we met in Jason's bedroom. I think you're gorgeous Cass, and that night, your nakedness stirred feelings in me."

"You're also gorgeous," Cassandra said, smiling down at the blonde. "If you want to explore those feelings further, just let me know. I'd be thrilled to be your guide."

"I've lived such a sheltered life, I didn't know how sheltered until I moved in with Jason. I've experienced feelings and emotions I never had before. Give me some time to take all this in but I enjoyed that very much."

With that, Chelsea turned and left.

When she arrived home I was watching TV and having a beer.

"Good afternoon, Handsome. Did you stay out of trouble while I was gone?"

I just looked at her. She seemed to be in a good mood but I wondered how she would take it if I told her I'd gone out and stuck my cock in another woman because she'd left me frustrated.

"No secrets?" I asked.

"No secrets, what did you do? Did you get some fresh pussy?"

I smiled and chuckled. "Pussy yes, and tasty but not so fresh. She's about sixty."

"So did you just need something different or do I no longer satisfy you?"

"I thought about you all day yesterday and I was ready to pounce on you after work, but then you were upset about the employee, and still upset this morning. I didn't want to seem like a pig, just thinking about myself, so I sought satisfaction elsewhere. You know it's been a week since we've enjoyed each other."

As we were talking she walked to the kitchen and got herself a beer then sat next to me on the sofa.

"Well, that's too bad, because now I'm horny as fuck and I need a cock. I hope you can get it up again later this afternoon, otherwise, I might no longer choose to be exclusive to you. And next time you need me to satisfy you, say so. We could have planned to do it this afternoon, and I'd be the one with a week's worth of your cum sloshing around inside me instead of the old hag you visited."

"That old hag is a beautiful, wealthy, needy woman. Don't worry my gorgeous Morsel, I'll take care of your needs."

"She's beautiful? Not gorgeous like me?"

"I stand by what I said. I'm not in the habit of being sloppy with my words."

We both took a sip of our beers, looking at each other.

"I take it that you and Cassandra had a fruitful talk?"

"We did. I can't say that I fully understand why you two play that way, but now I understand what you do. I believe it when you say I don't need to be afraid."

"Good! I'll have to give Cassandra some punishment credits for her efforts today."

"I'm not so sure she'll like that. From the way she talked today, she enjoys your hand and the cat."

"So is that what's got you worked up this afternoon, talking about the things Cassandra and I do?"

Smiling, she sipped her beer.

"Would you like to try some of those things?"

"No," she replied quickly, her voice crackling. She fixed me with a stare but then quickly looked away.

Chelsea had wanted to respond with a hearty yes to that question. After learning of all the flavors of possible relationships she could have with a dominant man, she could not stop thinking about what that could mean. She could not stop thinking about how she could develop a deep connection with a man. And not just any man, she wanted Jason to be her guide into this new world. But she wasn't yet ready to take that first step. Her mind was still spinning with information from Cassandra. Jason was a strong Dom unlike any Cassandra had experienced before. Chelsea was afraid that if she gave herself to him unconditionally, she might lose herself to him. This would have to be done slowly and on her terms.

I knew her response was not the whole truth. Her stare gave her away. Her pupils were dilated and her nostrils were flared. The crackle in her voice and the sudden diverting of her eyes were all signs that she wasn't telling the whole truth. Or maybe she was horny as fuck and needed to be railed. I decided to push a bit further.

"You know, watching you strip and touch yourself would probably get little Mr. B's attention," I said with a grin.

She looked back at me, her pupils still dilated, her nostrils flaring as her breathing became more rapid.

"Is that what you want?" she asked.

"We said we'd cool it for a month, but I don't think I can wait that long to fuck you again. Kathleen gave me relief but fucking her is not the same as fucking you, and it's you that I crave. You said you needed a cock, and here I am. I just need the proper stimulation, and you know that sex starts in the brain."

I knew exactly why I needed Chelsea. It was that submissive personality of hers. She had this innate desire to give herself to me, let me take what I wanted from her, and satisfy us both in the process. I sometimes wondered if she'd always been that way with men, or did she feed off my dominant personality? It didn't matter to me, she was here now, available to me. The mixture of submissiveness and her plush body stirred a lustful desire in me. Sitting together there on the sofa, she just looked at me, so I picked up my phone and scrolled through my playlists until I found one titled "Fuck Music". The list started slow and sensual but by the end was energetic and throbbing, much like the progression of a couple engaged in carnal delight. I tapped it and the sounds of Peggy Lee's "Fever" oozed from my stereo across the room, those oh-so-recognizable finger snaps leading the way.

"You think you give me a fever?" a slight smile graced those plump lips.

"I'm surprised that you know this song, and yes, I think I do give you a fever, but make no mistake, you light a fire in me," I growled as I gave her a lustful stare.

She took a sip of her beer

"Time's wasting, strip!" I commanded. She scowled but stood and stepped between me and the TV. She began to sway to the music. Soon she was dancing and running her hands over her body.

"You're good at this," I smiled.

"I used to dance when I was younger, not in public though, just in my parents' basement."

"Their basement?"

"My parents' home was built in the '70s. They remodeled the main floor but left the basement with its original decor. One wall was mirrored, so I'd set up my laptop and watch music videos, trying to imitate the dances while watching myself. I think I've gotten pretty proficient."

Her outfit today consisted of a white, midriff-baring top and a pair of faded denim shorts. Her ample tits were spilling out as usual, and the shorts were straining at the effort of containing her plump ass. Her hair was braided into a ponytail. She pulled her top over her head, her tits shook as they settled back into place. Her nipples pressed against the bra she wore.

Muse's version of "Feelin' Good" was next and when the bass dropped she became a different woman, erotic and seductive. By the time the song finished, she was naked from the waist up, caressing her tits as her head rolled about on her shoulders. My cock was getting hard now.

"Buttons" by The Pussycat Dolls was next, shifting the feel of the music from slow and seductive to more energetic and pulsing. She slowly peeled off her shorts, releasing her ass in the process. Then she danced around in front of me, her plush body released from the confines of clothing, shaking with every step. At the end of the song, she kicked off her shoes.

Now covered only by her panties, she smiled broadly when the next song started, "More Than A Woman" by Aaliyah.

"One of my favorites!" she giggled and began recreating some of the dance moves from the video, particularly the hip swaying. Fuck this woman was driving me crazy, gyrating around in nothing but her panties. My cock was tenting my slacks so I stood up and removed them. She danced over to me and gently trailed her fingernails up my staff, causing it to jump. She got into this song and ended it as she had begun, clad only in her panties.

Next up was "Way Down We Go" by KALEO, the perfect song for making her panties slide down to her ankles, and that's what happened, but she took the entire. fucking. song. to. do it. For the longest time, she toyed with the waistband, pulling it down and back up, dropping a bit lower each time, turning as she did so. I sat on the sofa and stroked my cock, keeping it hard, though with her dancing I think I would have been that way anyway.

As the song ended I paused the music and patted the seat next to me and told her to lie down and touch herself. She blushed and smiled slightly.

"You want to watch me touch myself?"

"I do, but you have to do as I say, and no cumming until I tell you."