The Writer's Assistant

By Jim Lyon

The ad on Craigslist was fairly nondescript - Live-in Writer's Assistant Needed - but it piqued my interest because an opportunity to put my newly minted journalism degree to good use and not have to pay rent sounded very attractive. Of course, even getting an interview was a long shot in Los Angeles, where it seemed that practically everyone who wasn't an out-of-work actor was a wannabe writer. So I was pleasantly surprised when the day after responding to the ad I received an email requesting me to fill out and return an assessment, which was clearly designed to winnow the number of candidates to a manageable number. Miraculously, I made the first cut.

I remember thinking that as job interviews go this one was somewhat unusual. For upwards of a half hour I had been chatting amicably with Linda in her home office as if we were old friends getting together for a drink. Mostly at her direction, the conversation flitted from such things as current events and favorite Elmore Leonard novels to pet peeves and anecdotes about our parents' idiosyncrasies, but not once was anything about the job mentioned.

When the laughter died down from a story I shared about the attempts by my mother to hook me up with her friend's recently divorced daughter, Linda switched gears slightly. She looked at me thoughtfully and asked, "You know don't you, Paul, that you wouldn't still be here talking to me if I didn't think you can do this job or that we will be compatible working together?"

"I suppose I do at that," I replied. Indeed, earlier I had begun to see our fluid interactions with an objective distance and became convinced that this was a pivotal moment in my life, and that Linda and I would be linked in some way for a very long time. I couldn't really explain why, but our apparent natural affinity for one another made that conclusion seem inevitable, like it was fated, meant to be.

"Well then," she continued, "now we need to determine whether you really want to be my live-in assistant since there are certain features of the position that are, shall we say, out of the ordinary and could possibly put you off."

Intrigued, I listened to her carefully worded preamble then asked playfully, "There's nothing illegal or immoral involved, is there?"

Linda shook her head, waving her hand in protest.

"No, nothing like that. To begin with, I am the queen of erotica. I have written roughly fifty naughty books across every imaginable erotica genre under a variety of pen names. So part of your job will be researching and proofreading for three or four erotic novels a year."

I laughed at the last revelation.

"So...let me get this straight, you're actually going to pay me to help you write smut?" I asked.

"High quality smut," she replied with a wink.

Affecting a jocular tone I responded, "Of course, I would expect no less. In answer to your implied question, yes, despite it being shameful and onerous, I think I can steel myself to the task. I am prepared to help you churn out the best possible erotica you're capable of writing."

Smiling yet serious she continued, "I hoped you would have that reaction. But there's one final issue that needs to be addressed. As you might imagine would be the case with an erotica queen, my personal sexual appetites are not exactly mainstream. I am a femdom aficionado and a practicing domme."

A slight smile crept onto my face as I processed this information. When I inquired, "Why should I care what sort of kinks you indulge in?" she stated matter-of-factly, "Because the ideal assistant I'm looking for will also be my full-time bottom."

This latest disclosure hung there for several beats while I struggled with a response.

"Oh," I managed to squeak in a near whisper.

As I sat there pondering the implications of her statement, Linda reminded me of the assessment that I had taken prior to being invited for the interview. She told me that it was similar to the type used by dating services but with an extra component added to measure the degrees of yin-yang in a person's sexuality. Apparently, in addition to having a high degree of compatibility to Linda's overall sensibilities, it indicated that I have an elevated predisposition to sexual submission and masochism. Her final reveal was that gradually I would become immersed in a very intense submissive BDSM lifestyle that likely would alter my sexuality forever - a specter that was equally enticing and frightening to me.

I was caught off guard rather than shocked by the prospect of entering into a 24/7 D/s relationship. I had dabbled in femdom some but so far had not had an opportunity to indulge in it fulltime. Linda studied me while I contemplated her proposal. Like many introverts my face is hard to read, yet she might have detected a little sparkle in my eyes, which definitely would have been an encouraging sign. Although I had been acutely aware of Linda's considerable feminine charms and strong personality since arriving, given the purpose of my visit I hadn't entertained any ideas of becoming romantically or sexually involved with her. I closed my eyes and tried to picture us in a female-led BDSM relationship - the images that swam around in my head were breathtaking.

"When do you want me to start?" I said finally, a goofy faraway expression on my face, at once exhilarated and terrified.

With a radiant smile Linda replied, "Unless you have other plans for the rest of the day, how about right now?"

****

Explaining that as her bottom I was to remain naked while at home unless otherwise instructed, from behind Linda eased my sport coat off then placed it on the back of a nearby chair. Next she came around to my front and deftly unbuttoned my shirt, revealing my torso, which she stroked gently before instructing me to finish disrobing myself. It was clear that this simple command subtly signaled the transition to our new relationship.

Silently I leaned over to untie my shoelaces and remove my shoes. I experienced a heady mix of excitement and arousal along with a slight tinge of sexual humiliation as I peeled off my remaining garments finally standing nude while Linda, fully dressed, eyed me appraisingly and grinned broadly. She appeared to be extremely pleased at the outcome of the interview and eagerly looking forward to the fun that lay ahead.

When I left home that morning, the last thing I imagined would happen was for me to become a willing collared submissive to someone I had yet to even meet. So it was a pretty strange experience watching Linda lock a narrow stainless steel collar around my neck and attach a leash to it only a few hours later. But the curious thing was I felt a pleasurable wave of surrender wash over me as it happened and my entire body was atwitter with anticipation.

Initially I was practically in a daze as Linda began leading me on a tour of the house and grounds. En route to the backyard we passed through her living room whose floor-to-ceiling plate glass windows offered a panoramic view of the San Fernando Valley. Stepping outside to the pool area I felt completely exposed and vulnerable, as if I was on stage naked in a crowded auditorium.

"Here are your living quarters," Linda announced cheerily as we entered her well-appointed guest studio alongside the pool. The cottage was light and airy, with wraparound windows that allowed generous amounts of sunlight to splash onto the off-white wall-to-wall carpeting and stylish rattan furniture. The main room's elegant ambience was enhanced by carved wood decorations and colorful watercolor paintings artfully placed on grass cloth-covered walls.

I wandered around my new abode pausing to sit at the computer desk to familiarize myself with the cluster of electronic equipment on it before continuing on to inspect the king size bed, walk-in closet and roomy full bathroom, which featured all the standard appliances plus a Jacuzzi and a double shower.

"Well, this is certainly trading up from my current digs," I remarked. "I can hardly wait to see the rest of The House That Erotica Built."

"My home does have some very nice amenities," Linda agreed, "Not the least of which is total privacy."

We continued the grand tour, meandering through Linda's den, dining room, kitchen and several spare bedrooms before arriving at the master suite. Linda's boudoir was quite spacious and included a small alcove with a loveseat and several chairs positioned facing a jumbo plasma TV mounted on the opposing wall. At the far end of the bedroom proper was an oversized four-poster bed with discreetly placed rings attached to the base of each post that facilitated bondage play. To one side of the bed were a vast walk-in closet and an opulent en suite bathroom, complete with every conceivable amenity.

I had assumed that the tour was finished, but that proved to be incorrect when Linda opened a door on the other side of the bed and gestured for me to follow her.

"Welcome to my lair," she said provocatively as she turned on the lights to reveal a sizable playroom outfitted with an impressive selection of bondage and discipline accoutrement. Mirrored walls on all sides made the room seem much bigger than it actually was, adding an almost surreal quality to the space. Images of a forty-something athletic black woman leading a considerably younger naked white guy by a leash stared at me from every direction. My imagination began conjuring scenarios featuring me in some form of bondage while Linda indulged a penchant for administering corporal punishment, all being reflected to infinity by the mirrored walls. I found the inevitability of those flights of fancy becoming a reality to be both thrilling and terrifying.

"Considering that you are a relative newbie, we'll save this room for another time, I don't want to overwhelm you," Linda told me. She then tugged my leash and led me back to the bedroom where I was directed to lay on the bed face up spread-eagle fashion while she secured me to the bedposts with soft leather cuffs. Subsequently she stepped out of her sandals, climbed onto the bed and stood over her new writer's assistant-cum-bottom, obviously enjoying the view of my naked and vulnerable body. Slowly and seductively Linda began removing her clothes until at last she too was completely bare, her long black hair cascading over her mahogany shoulders and breasts while her neatly trimmed delta glistened with dew.

Linda's eyes were locked on mine as she dropped to her knees and lowered her pussy within inches of my face to tantalize me with the scent of her arousal. The pungent aroma from her sex caused me to lick my lips reflexively in anticipation of pleasuring my new mistress for the first time. Finally she eased her moist pussy onto my mouth to initiate the rite-de-passage.

Immediately I began lapping from Linda's font and nuzzling my nose against her engorged clitoris. She sighed contentedly as pleasurable sensations radiated through her southern hemisphere in response to my attentions. As our lust ignited the hunger grew more urgent and Linda began grinding herself on my face while I thrust my tongue deep inside her pink canal. Before long I shifted my attentions to Linda's clitoris, first nibbling it delicately then sucking it energetically and passionately. The longer I concentrated on pleasuring her thusly her vocalizations escalated from sensual moans to guttural growls. Our progressively frantic coupling ultimately triggered a climax that caused Linda to quiver violently and drench my face with her nectar.

While Linda luxuriated in the afterglow of her orgasm, I soothed her enflamed pussy with delicate kisses and licks, unintentionally nearly bringing about a second climax. Her sensitivity slowly subsided and eventually she extricated herself from my oral attentions in order to retrieve a face dildo and strap it in place on my head. I felt a sublime submissiveness envelope me as I watched Linda mount the dildo and slide down its shaft, her rear orifice resting at the base of my nose. Enthralled, I enthusiastically inhaled the intoxicating bouquet of fragrances emanating from her loins.

Gradually Linda began riding up and down on the dildo, thoroughly enjoying the pleasure that it provided. As she picked up speed she began slapping my testicles and penis with her open hand on the down strokes, the blows becoming increasingly intense in proportion to the vigor of her activity on the dildo. Linda barely paused after the first glorious orgasm arrived before resuming her lustful ride to several more.

"Welcome to my world, Paul," Linda said while unbuckling the face dildo's harness. "Even though you've probably never had a domme ride you like that before, I'm pretty sure you'll develop a taste for it. I've been told by many subs that it's an extremely intimate way to serve a mistress."

After the face dildo was removed, I savored the residual flavor of Linda's arousal and the throbbing in my bruised genitals, reflecting on what she had just said. It was indeed a wonderfully intimate experience, but it had been so much more than that, an exquisite descent into sexual submission that was transformational. I knew without any question that there was no going back; I was on a one-way trip to life as a full-time bottom.

****

On the following day Linda handed me the first few pages of her latest manuscript, still warm from the laser printer. As I glanced at them she said, "The format for this book will be a departure from my normal style, sort of artsy if you will. I want it to parallel more or less what we're doing right now, a story that chronicles the entrée of a fairly inexperienced sub - you - into mainstream BDSM life. What I have in mind is to write the action as I usually do then have you read it and give me additional observations from your vantage point, which I can use to edit what I've written. Please read those pages over and give me your feedback."

After cogitating on her words I opined, "So it's autobiographical fiction, but the reader doesn't know it? A story within a story yet not really...an interesting concept."

Linda responded a little defensively, "I hope it doesn't end up being too much high concept and not enough erotica. After fifty books it's hard not to be formulaic ... you know what I mean, where a character is a dominant or submissive blah blah blah and in situation A, he/she does B. I'm trying to keep it fresh, for me as well as for my readers."

Trying to be helpful I suggested, "Well, you won't know unless you try. If it doesn't work out like you want it to, you can always tweak it."

"My thinking exactly," was her final comment on the matter.

****

We were lounging sans clothing waist deep on the steps in the shallow end of the pool, the sun beginning to dip toward the horizon. I was becoming acclimated to my new job and lifestyle and ruminating on the text Linda had asked me to look over. Since I had been unaware that she was a prolific erotica writer until the previous afternoon, this was the first writing of hers that I had read.

In actuality, I was favorably impressed. There was a nice flow to her prose and I liked that it was primarily written in the now, without a lot of tiresome back-story, almost like a movie. I appreciated that information about the characters was slowly introduced into the narrative rather than force-fed in large doses.

My thoughts rose to the surface and prompted me to follow up on Linda's earlier request. Breaking the companionable silence I said, "I've been thinking about the stuff you wrote this morning. I think you covered it very well. If anything, you could add a hint of some of my physical characteristics, or my attraction to you. Like when you were standing over me on the bed - damn you looked hot! Even during the interview, I was trying to be professional, but there was an undercurrent of attraction that wouldn't quit."

Linda smiled appreciatively before replying, "Those are good points. I'll see what I can do on the rewrite. At the very least, I can touch on them in future scenes."

****

It was like a déjà vu moment, except the original event had never actually happened, it had just been a fleeting fantasy. In Linda's playroom, I looked at the reflection of myself in a pillory and behind that a reflection of me from the rear that included Linda holding a flogger. Had I been able to turn my head to either side, I would have had a similar fun house-like side view.

The velvety touch of Linda's hand on my buttocks was soothing. She stroked each cheek gently then briefly let her hand snake between my legs to tease my anus. I knew that this was the calm before the storm. Soon I would receive my first taste of recreational corporal punishment.

Linda began telling me that preparing a sub for his introduction to the whip was a special experience for her, similar to undressing an eager virgin. Whatever their misgivings, she said, they always did it willingly because it was something they had been longing for, fantasizing about. She even admitted to having a sense that she was somehow chosen for the privilege of facilitating their destiny.

And because it was such a threshold moment, she never rushed. Linda wanted the event to live up to their dreams and to be the source of exceptional memories. And if she were to be completely honest, Linda added, she wanted those same things for herself as well.

Toward the end of her discourse Linda began trailing the tendrils of the flogger along my ass and upper thighs, precipitating a serious outbreak of goose bumps as the reality of being whipped became imminent and impossible to ignore. After tormenting me in this fashion for a while she started to gently swat my ass with the flogger, gradually increasing the intensity of the strokes until there was escalating pain with each impact of leather on skin. The harder and longer Linda flogged me the more I succumbed to a sense of total abandon and eventually began to acclimate to the pain and relish it.

So many things were going through my mind during the session. Foremost, I was immensely pleased that I had finally realized my fantasy and that it measured up to my expectations. It was tremendously exciting to allow my body to be punished for the pleasure of my mistress, to endure pain for her. What's more, I felt very fortunate that Linda had chosen me to be her bottom.

The flesh from my thighs to my upper back was crisscrossed with burning red welts by the time Linda put down the flogger. Inexplicably, my cock was painfully hard and oozing evidence of my arousal. Despite these warring sensations I was experiencing an overpowering sense of release and calm, my mind was clear and peaceful.

I was stirred from my reverie by the touch of Linda's fingertips lightly brushing over the enflamed flesh on my ass. Before long her fingers drifted to my anus and began teasing it, eventually insinuating themselves inside. After she had stretched the opening a little Linda spread my cheeks apart and began easing a well-lubricated strapon into me ever so slowly until my cavity was full and our bodies were flush to one another.

Spanking my still-hard cock sharply, Linda leaned over and whispered in my ear, "You won't be using this anymore now that you're a bottom." With that she began rhythmically deflowering my virgin hole. She took me gently at first then gradually built up speed until finally she was pounding me energetically, splitting me apart with each thrust. It was exquisitely humiliating knowing that I was no longer in charge of my sexuality, yet somehow it felt right. By the time Linda had finished skewering me my rectum and prostate were glowing and my penis hung limply, semen dripping profusely from its eye.

As I was processing having been flogged and pegged for the first time, I found myself thinking about reading Linda's interpretation of the scene for her work-in-progress the following day. Then I began to laugh when it suddenly struck me how surreal my life currently was, living out a kinky avante guard story for Linda's fans. Sometimes truth really is stranger than fiction.