She jabbed me with a pen – that’s how we met. She jabbed me with a pen because I was blocking the aisle and she couldn’t get to an empty seat. Just to the left of my lower spine; hurt like all hell.

I think I must have fallen in love right then.

“Most girls would say excuse me after hurtin’ uh guy like that,” I said looking around to see what just sent my motor from zero to sixty thousand in one shot.

“Most women wouldn’t have had to move a little boy like that.” She stressed the word ‘boy’. Physically and verbally abusive. And pretty. Not conventional – a little short, a touch thin except in the seat. Dark hair, dark eyes, deep voice for a girl; especially for an Asian one.

I turned away from my conversation – in truth, I didn’t even remember to whom I was talking or what about. She had my full, undivided attention. “You’re new, aren’t you?”

She pursed her lips and narrowed her brows. “You’re observant. Observe this.” She poked my chest with the pen and pushed her weight against it. Even through my shirt, the sharp point stung and I hissed even as I smiled. “Sit down, little boy, and leave me alone.”

“Oh, yes, Ma’am.” I sat down, pulled my cell and text-ed Peter. ‘Breaking a rule. Fell in love. Sorry.’

In the middle of class, the response came back. I saw ‘WTF’ just before I turned it off.

College was turning out to be easy. I got a scholorship dispite my best efforts to avoid one so the money was even less of a problem than it might have been - which was none given my family's finances. I was living with my cousin Peter in a house off-campus that my Great Uncle Julius let us use. Living with Peter was amazing. He was my Dominant in addition to being my cousin and my best friend. I'm not saying living with him was perfect but it's hard to beat living with a guy who beats you hard. Living with a chick who beat me - that could be better but I hadn't meet a willing girl. Yet.

At the end of class, I made a point of blocking her path again. The second time she used her nails on my arm directly. “Oh, yeah,” I hissed and turned on her quickly catching her wrist tightly in my hand. “You wanna go out tonight?”

She stared at me blankly. I knew I was holding her too tightly; I knew if it didn’t actually hurt, it was damned uncomfortable, but she didn’t even blink. From behind me I heard, “Hey, Alex, what’s the hold up?” but I didn’t want to let her go ‘til she answered.

Then I heard Peter distinctly, “Alex. Let go.” Programmed response; my hand actually released before my brain registered the words. I couldn’t directly disobey him – not that I actually wanted to. I stepped aside and let her pass then watched her ass as she left the room. Then I caught sight of Peter’s expression. I didn’t know if he was gonna beat my ass or put me on suspension. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.

He stood next to me while I tried to pull myself together. “Well, I haven’t seen that in a while.”

“Seen what?”

“You, in ‘asshole’ mode.”

I looked at him, “Did you see her?” I get my books stuffed into my bag and show him the four crescent shaped marks in my arm, “Christ! I am so breakin’ uh rule tonight.”

“I’ll let that go, I think. But you don’t touch her again. Hear?”

I looked at him; he was totally serious but he didn’t make that an order. I took it as one anyway. “Yes, Sir.”

He glanced over his shoulder then bit my lip, quick and hard. He headed out of the room leaving me a little shaky again. I followed him out. I so needed to get fucked that night.

Tuesday and Thursday quickly became my favorite days of the week. All day spent knowing I was gonna see her at 3:25pm. I made a point of getting there early so I could do something for her – move someone else out her way, sharpen her pencil, get her a bottle of water. She barely registered my presence. I didn’t actually talk to her until we got assigned our group project together. Three weeks into a sixteen-week class, I learned her name.

Ame. Ame Wilson. Pronounced ‘A-me’, short for Amelia.

I didn’t know who the fuck the other two were. She took charge of the project immediately – what our topic was, who did what, when we met outside of class, all of it. She wasn’t just strong and smart. She was aggressive. Masterful.

I was beginning to think that real female masters were a myth. Outside the clubs, at least.

Saturday afternoons got added to my favorite day list – since it was off-season and I was free, we scheduled our group meetings for 3 to 5 at the library. After the second meeting, she stopped me with tilt of her head. The others left and she asked, “I don’t suppose you have a suit, little boy? One that fits.”

People hear my accent and think ‘poor’. “I have two tailored Armani’s – one navy, one black. If those won’t do, I can rent a tux.” It might tap my petty cash for the rest of the month, but I could do it.

She looked surprised but recovered her indifference quickly. “The navy, I think. Pick me up at Stratton Hall at 6:30. Do not be late.” She started to leave.

“Ame.” She paused and looked at me. The look would be withering if I didn’t want her to whip me. “I don’t like ‘little boy’. My name is ‘Alex’.” I didn’t have many limits but that’s one of them.

“I don’t like ‘Alex’.” She said flatly, “I am not calling you that.”

I tried to think that through; Peter usually solved problems like that – that’s why he was the Dom.

“Don’t hurt yourself, little boy.” She sighed. “I suppose ‘little man’ is just as bad?” I nodded and she sighed again. “Fine. I’ll think of something. Don’t be late.” She walked away, ass swaying hypnotically.

I dialed Peter as soon as I got a clear signal.

“We talked about this, Alex. You don’t have to ask permission for every date.”

“Yeah, but this ain’t just any date.”

“Alex, I’m busy here. If I’ve given you a specific rule about the girl – person, whatever – then follow it. Otherwise, go have fun. In fact, fuck ‘em – you have permission to cum tonight. My treat. All other rules apply. G’bye, Alex.” He hung up.

I contemplated this new freedom until I realized that I had less than an hour to get to the house, shower, dress and get back ta campus. Uncle Julius’ house was nice, but sometimes it was too damn far away. Still, I made it back with almost a minute to spare.

I paused in her lobby to admire my own reflection. McElroy men clean up well an’ I was better than most.

“You’re late.”

Her voice seemed to promise pain to come but I knew that’s just my fantasies talking. Besides, Peter only gave me one rule for the night – I couldn’t touch her. Of course, if she tied me down, I couldn’t touch her if I wanted to. I stopped that line of thought – especially because I caught her reflection. “Wow.”

She was stunning in a simple dark blue shimmering thing. No ruffles, no frilly crap, just her wrapped in something that accentuated how round her ass was which most girls didn’t consider a compliment but kept my attention for hours on end.

“You look fabulous,” I said turning and smiling my best you-know-you-want-me smile.

“You look late,” she said, not smiling.

“So punish me.” I should not have said it. All I could think of after was her doing terrible things to my body.

Instead of answering my prayers, she walked to the door and waited. Belatedly, I opened the door for her. I got the car door before she had to ask. As I got in, she handed me an invitation to gallery opening reception in Old Town. I didn’t know the area but that’s what GPS was for.

We drove in silence; I tried to start a conversation and she ignored me. By the time we arrived, I was beginning to wonder why she asked me to bring her. Apart from opening doors, hanging her coat and getting her drink, that is. She vanished into the crowd and I stood and waited near the bar, drinks in hand, trying to decide if I should cut my losses and go home.

She finally re-appeared on the arm of a tall republican-looking guy. “There you are, Mac.” Like she was happy to see me. “Thank you.” She took the glass I gave her, sipped and turned back to the republican. “So, are you going to the gym twice a week like you’re supposed to?”

“Most weeks.” His laugh sounded a bit staged like someone who’s used to being in front of cameras. “Now Amelia, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

“Oh of course, how foolish of me; sometimes I forget he’s around.” I knew my face registered that one but she ignored the look, “Daddy, this is Mac. Mac, this is my father, City Councilman David Wilson.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mac.” He put out his hand and I debated doing something to embarrass her thoroughly.

Instead, I meet his hand with a firm – but not aggressive – grip. “And you, Sir. Thank you fo’ invitin’ me to this event.” ‘ Mac’. I figured I could deal with it for one night.

“A pleasure, son. Anything to keep Amelia happy.”

I smiled at that. “Couldn’t agree more.”

“Ah, I see you’re a local boy,” he said and I laughed. Try as I might, I will never have Peter’s polish. “From where do you hail?”

“Northern Neck, Sir. Accent give me away every time.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad. I used to fish out that way when I was young.”

I couldn’t help laughing again, “Ain’t nothin’ else ta do but fish an’ drink!” He laughed with me but I could see Ame’s smile wearing more than a little thin.

“Well, hello.” A delicate female voice joined us and I looked over to see one of the loveliest women I have ever seen. “And what is all the laughter about?” She looked at me and bright blue eyes did a blatant appraisal. I must have made the grade fast. “Who is your friend, Daddy?”

She was blond and pink and wearing a neckline that must have been glued in place. And she was Ame’s sister. Amanda. Of course. I glanced between the two and suddenly my presence there made a lot more sense. I politely kissed Amanda’s hand as we were introduced. Then I looked at her and smiled. I fucked half the girls in my high school; I knew how to smile.

“I didn’t know Ame had a sister,” I said in my most charming voice.

“She hasn’t mentioned me?” She coyly flipped her blond curls over an enticingly bare shoulder.

“Not one word.” I let the smile fade then turned it on Ame, “Of course, we’ve had more interestin’ things to discuss the last few weeks, haven’t we?”

Ame didn’t even flinch. “Yes, I guess we have.”

“And just how do you know my daughter, Mac?” I recognized the tone – it was ‘Angry Dad’ but that was ok since I knew what game I was playing.

“We’re,” I hesitated and looked at Ame before I said, “classmates. Teammates. We have a group project together.” I looked back at Wilson, who did not believe a word of it, “That’s all.”

“And just how long have you and my daughter been ‘classmates’?”

“The beginnin’ of the semester, Sir.” I looked at Ame in that longing way lovers do, “Seems longer, somehow.” I stepped over to Ame and slipped the half-full glass out of her hand, “I’m sorry, dar-ehem, Ame. I was talkin’ so much I didn’t notice your glass was empty. I’ll get you a fresh one. Won’t be a moment. Sir?” I nodded formally at her father then looked with mild puzzlement at her sister. I gestured weakly, “I’m sorry…”

“Amanda. ‘Mandy’ to my friends.”

“Amanda,” I repeated and smiled back at Ame, “How could I forget that? I’ll be back soon.” I started to kiss her nose but stopped myself. That might have been going too far. And anyway, that’d break uh rule.

I was in line at the bar when Ame’s nails dug into the back of my neck. The unexpected pain sent an electric current down my spine and into my groin. “Oh Fuck,” I groaned before I asserted some self-control.

“What was that?” She snapped.

“What was what?” I didn’t look at her because I knew I couldn’t keep a straight face.

“My father and Amanda both think we’re sleeping together, now.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Her grip tightened. I wanted to find a hotel room – hell, a secluded corner would do – and let her dig those nails into every inch of me. “Yes, little boy. It’s a very bad thing. I’m the good girl. Mandy’s the little tramp. Now fix this.” She let go of me and stomped off.

I got myself another drink and went to find her father. He was talking to another republican who looked very familiar.

“Ah, Mac.” Wilson managed to keep his fatherly hatred of me well wrapped. “Son, this is State Senator…”

“Wallace. Good evening, Sir, I thought you looked familiar.”

“Why then, you have me at something of an advantage, young man.”

“I’m Alex McElroy, Sir. My Great Uncle is Julius McElroy.”

“You one uh JD’s kin?” he shook my hand excitedly, nearly pulling it off in the process, “Well, pleased ta make yo’ acquaintance, son. An’ how is that Uncle uh yors? An’ that pretty little wife uh his? Never in all my days have a clue how he caught her, not one clue,” he continued on, not letting Wilson or I get a word in edgewise. Finally, one of his aides pulled him aside and the Senator excused himself.

I couldn’t help but exhale loudly and was surprised to hear the same sound from Wilson. I half smiled, “That’s why I remember him.”

“That’s why everybody remembers him.”

“Yeah.” I cleared my throat and jumped in. “Look Sir, I – uh – just want to say that I think very highly uh Ame – Amelia – an’ – uh, well, Sir. I don’t want you getting’ the wrong idea. Frankly,” I shrugged, left with nothing but the truth, “this is our first date. We really are just classmates.”

“Really?” I wasn’t sure if he believed me or not.

“Yeah. She told me after we finished at the library to pick her up an’ had me bring her here. I was hoping ta get a second date out of it but I kinda think she’s pissed off.”

“You’re interested in Amelia.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And Amanda?”

I shrugged again; why would he care if I wanted to do Amanda? “She’s pretty, I guess.” I threw out when it becomes apparent that he’s waiting for something.

“My daughters think I’m blind but I see more than I tell them. You’re a handsome young man. Too handsome for Amelia, frankly, and Amanda is not going to let her have you without a fight. My daughters have been fighting since they were both old enough to have things. Any ‘things’. First, it was toys, and then it was friends. Now it’s boys. You have sisters?”

“One, Sir.”

“Now there’s a sane number of girls to have in the house – one.” He finished his drink in one last swallow, “Actually, I wish you were sleeping with Amelia. That might keep Amanda in check.”

“Sir?” He looked at me. I looked back levelly, “I have no interest in any woman other than Ame. I hope to be seeing more of you in the future. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go find my not-girlfriend now.”

I scanned the crowd and found Ame. She was the only one actually looking at the gallery art. I joined her.

“Got me uh baby aint kin do that in crayon ona kitchen flo’.”

She gave me a look that was more than confused. “English is your second language, isn’t it?” After a moment of studying the abstract painting on the wall, she added “Baby aunt?”

“Yep. Aint Willow an’ Uncl’ Caesar. They ‘bout six-an-uh-haff.”

She looked at me again. There was no humor about it at all. “I understand that you are a provincial. But if you can’t speak in proper English, don’t speak.” She moved on to the next painting.

“Yes, Ma’am,” I murmured. Peter would not have meant for me to have conflicting orders; he wouldn’t have said ‘fuck her’ and ‘don’t touch her’ on the same night deliberately. Of course, this had happened on rare occasion before. If I handled it well, Peter beat my ass until I shot dust – or he let me spend a weekend at The Crack which a sex club in DC we go to on special occasions. Either was worth a lot of extra effort. If I could fuck her without touching her…. I clasped both hands behind my back, Morpheus style – and vowed to keep a foot between us for the rest of the night.

We looked at the art. I didn’t give a shit about art.

“You can leave with Amanda any time you want,” she dropped casually during our third circuit of the display. “I can take a cab from here.” We did another circuit. “Ok. Thank you. You may go; I’m sure she’s waiting for you.” After another circuit, she actually looked at me. “Enough. You are dismissed.” She was confused either because I was not chasing Amanda or because I was not following instructions. I could see just a hint of that confusion behind an otherwise nearly flawless emotionless mask. How long had she been hiding like that, I wondered, and what else did she hide. She studied me like one of the paintings then she moved on to the next.

About half way around the display again, I leaned close over her shoulder – I could smell her perfume but I didn’t touch her neck and I didn’t nibble her tempting little earlobe. I whispered, “I have no interest whatsoever in Amanda. I want to take Amelia home.”

She pulled away from me with a visible shiver. I pushed my libido back into its cage. No touching, I reminded myself.

We re-joined the reception as it was winding down. Only minutes after we entered the main room, Amanda slipped her arm in mine and rubbed a surprisingly tantalizing body against mine. She must have been waiting besides one of the oversized plants blocking the doorway. I hoped the plants were blocking their Father’s view. Both daughters may be more of a fight than he wants tonight.

“My god,” she exclaimed, “What muscle! Amelia you’ve snagged yourself quite the he-man this time.”

I pat her hand gently as Ame muttered something vague. “Yes, well, enough years of football will do that.” I pointedly pulled my arm away from her and moved a bit closer to Ame. I aborted my reach to put my arm around her and looked at my watch, “Oh, wow, boy. Look at the time. Let me know when you’re ready to head out, Ame.”

“Actually,” Amanda’s voice poured like honey, “I could use a lift. If, of course, you’re going my way.” She was short, like Ame, and stacked. I’d lie if I said I didn’t want to do her – then again, I’ve never met a woman I wouldn’t do. Even fat girls got tight pussies. She probably never said no – she sure in hell wouldn’t say it to me. But that was her problem – there’s nothing worth taking, nothing to fight for ‘cause she’d given it all away. An’ anyway, I disliked honey almost as much as I hated peanut butter. I glanced at Ame; she was watching me with very mild interest and I decided that it was time to end this issue.

“Alright, Manson…”

“Man-dee.” She corrected me sweetly.

“Like I fuckin’ care.” She looked shocked. “Look, if-n I wanted you, Ida had ya five minutes after ya dripped down my leg. I ain’t interested in easy. So, Ima say it nice once. Blow.” To illustrate my point, I grabbed Ame by the chin, which afforded me one brief stunned look from her before my eyes closed.

Ame’s lips were cool and tasted faintly of the merlot she’d been sipping all night. Her lips parted beneath mine and I let go of her face and used both arms around her tiny waist to lift her up slightly, pulling her closer to me. I’d have inhaled her if I could. One of her hands slipped into my hair sending sparks down my nerves. Then I felt her fingers curl, grab and pull.

Just like Peter did. My knees almost gave way. I can’t tell if she’s trying to pull me closer or pull me away but either way it got me rock hard damn fast.

I moaned into her lips until I had to pull back or lose a patch of hair. “Oh God, Ame, I’m sorry,” I whispered, “I’ve just wanted to do that fo’ so long. I just couldn’t wait any more. I just….” I couldn’t help hissing but I managed not to cry out when she tightened her grip and pulled harder. My dick actually jumped. She had to be able to feel it throbbing against her thigh.

“If you ever do that again without my permission, I will cut your balls off with a razor blade.”

“Oh, shit, woman. Is that supposed ta be uh threat or an enticement?” Her eyes narrowed at me and I smiled thinly back, “In case you haven’t noticed, I enjoy pain.” She adjusted her grip on my hair again and pulled a bit harder. I had to twist my neck to compensate. “Ame, I swear, you keep that up, I’m gonna take you where you stand.”

Her eyes darted away from me to Amanda and back again and she let go. I suddenly realized I’d been holding her in my arms the whole time. I could have just throw her down and taken her. Hard. Fast. Hot. She was too little to put up much of a fight. She woulda tried. Bit, scratched, tore at me with everything she could. She’da drawn blood. She’da left permanent marks. I’d win in the end but she’d make me fight for it.

She was a prize worth fighting for.

I leaned in to kiss her again. Peter an’ his rules could go fuck themselves.

“Let me go, little boy.” Her voice didn’t waiver.

She wasn’t bullshitting; she didn’t want me. She wasn’t interested. Not whining, not coy, just flat ‘no’. I wanted her so badly I couldn’t see straight but she could not care less. Reluctantly, I let her go. Stepping away from her was the hardest thing I think I’d ever done. I clasped my hands behind my back again.

“Take Amanda home,” she said and walked away from me. It was a direct order. I watched her leave.

I’d never taken direct orders on dry land from anyone but Peter. I lost Lisa because I too young to know what I was doing. I lost Leigh because I was too stupid to know what I wanted. I wasn’t about to lose Ame for either damn reason. If Ame wanted to give orders, I was taking them.

I looked at Amanda and reminded myself that I could not take my frustrations out on her. “This way.” I said in the most controlled voice I could manage. While we were driving to her place, she slid her hand between my thighs and up to my groin. It felt unnecessarily good. I grabbed her wrist hard. “Don’t.”

“Oww. Let go, that hurts.”

Ame wouldn’t have reacted. Ame would have stared at me until I let go, crushed by the sheer force of her will.

When we got to her building, though, Amanda was still trying. “Are you sure you don’t want to come up?”

I un-latched my seat belt and leaned toward her. She smiled seductively. I put my hand gently on her collarbone and shoved her against the car door. I had to lunge over the center console and caught her completely off-guard. With her seatbelt still latched, she was pretty effectively tied down. “You pushin’ me, honey. You keep pushin’ me you might get what you askin’ fo’.” I bit her lip; not hard enough to bleed but harder than I’d wager she was used to. She gasped and whimpered. She was shaking, so I pushed her a little harder against the door. I doubted very much that she had a fantasy about being dragged to her apartment and raped. I knew I was dangerously close to doing it anyway. I released her seatbelt and let her loose.

“Still wan’ me ta come on up?”

She got out of the car damn fast.

Since I was relatively close to it, I drove to the Georgetown waterfront, got a table by the water and nursed a beer. Peter wouldn’t answer his cell. A pair of very cute girls asked if they could join me. I told them I was waiting for someone.

It was unlikely that Ame was gonna join me there but I could dream.

I called her number and got a voice mail. I talked until the machine cut me off. Finally, I had moped as much as I could for one night without violating the ‘no running, jumping, swimming’ rule and I took myself home.

At home, at the base of the staircase, was a scarf followed a few steps up by a woman’s shirt. Peter’s shirt and tie were hanging neatly on the end of the banister at the landing. Her skirt was only a foot or so away from Peter’s pants – she must have been hot ‘cause his pants weren’t folded, just dropped on the floor, forgotten. His boxers were in front of my door – no doubt tossed there. Her bra and panties were on his doorknob.

I was – I am – a pervert. I checked the bra size – 32A – and sniffed the panties. Both I was guessing belong to Peter’s latest girl, Gwen – he could get a date, he just couldn’t keep one. The longest on record was almost two years, but most didn’t last two months. I didn’t usually keep track of the names but this one was around a lot. The room was quiet so I peeked in. I could see Gwen’s head asleep on Peter’s chest. His cell is on the floor, flashing. Several missed calls from me. I put the phone on the nightstand; that’s where he’d look for it in the morning.

“Hey,” his voice was so soft, I wasn’t sure I heard it, “time’s’it?”

“Late,” I whispered back. I stole a light kiss, “Go on back ta sleep. I’m jus’ bein’ nosy.”

“Cool.” He tightened his grip around Gwen and I felt a pang of jealousy. I really needed Peter that night. His eyes opened. “Did’n you ha’vuh date t’nigh’?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s’it?”

I sighed. If I told him it was a fiasco, he’d get up. I’d get his attention, true, but he looked real damn comfortable ‘bout then. I kissed him again. “Tomorrow, Peter. I’ll give you the blow-by-blow after church tomorrow. ‘K?”

“’K.”

“How was your night?”

“Fan-fuckin’-tastic.” He smiled sleepily.

High fuckin’ praise, from Peter. Gwen shifted in her sleep and nuzzled her head against his chest. He kissed her forehead. I knew when it was time to leave.

“G’night, Sir,” I whispered, stole one last kiss and went to my room.

Neither Peter nor I wanted to join another church when we left for school and after checking with a couple of others in the youth ministry we took up a collection and bought a webcam for the church. About twenty of us attend Sunday service on-line. With the live chat hooked up, it was a pretty cool way to go to church and keep in touch with everybody. Peter and I usually “arrived” before service started – in whatever we slept in – and had breakfast watching the service on the giant plasma screen Uncle Julius bought for Aunt Rachael.

Gwen joined us – which was worth like about a million gold stars for Peter. Afterwards, the three of us went mall crawling until even she was tired of shopping. She came back to the house with us an’ Peter told me to cook. It was not that I minded cooking, or even that I minded her hangin’ around; I just really needed Peter that day.

“I should make fuckin’ peanut butter sandwiches,” I muttered loud enough for him to hear.

He got the message. “Be right back, babe.” He kissed her forehead and followed me into the kitchen. “Do we have a problem?”

“Yeah!” I snapped back. “Is she ever going home?”

“Maybe not. So what?”

My stress level was really pushed. I took a deep breath and flexed every muscle. It didn’t actually relax me but it did usually keep me from saying the first thing I thought of. He waited while I pulled myself together. “I just really need to talk about last night.”

“Why?” Then, after a pause. “Wait, my last night or your last night?”

“Mine. I broke, I don’t know, like twenty rules.”

“You didn’t have any.”

“Yeah, well. It was that kinda night.”

He looked away from me, at the door back to the living room. When he looked back, he was trying to be cool, “Ok. I’ll send her home an’ we’ll talk.” Peter had the worst poker face I had ever seen. Blind men could read it.

“Don’t. I just need a couple minutes alone then you two can fuck all night.”

He didn’t want to look relieved but he was. “So what happened? Wait; start with why you called me. I should have paid more attention. Sorry.”

“Peter, not even.” Like he ever needs to apoligise to me. “I called ‘cause the date was with Ame.”

“... who is?” Peter asked, clearly not remembering her.

“The one with the nails.” He still didn’t remember her. “The one you put a very specific ‘no touch’ rule on.”

“Oh. Rules conflict. Fuck her, but don’t touch her. Tricky. Did you?”

“Fucked up any chance I had with her. Does that count?”

He winced. “Sorry. I take it you are not cool about that.”

“She’s perfect. She’s like…she’s like…” only Peter would understand the truth. “She’s like Lisa. That first month. Before I fucked things up with her.” I turned and started pulling food from the fridge. Something quick. “Lisa’s strength an’ looks but Leigh’s claws.” I hoped Gwen liked sausage ‘cause I wasn’t in the mood to really cook. When I turned back to Peter, his mouth was still hanging open. “What?”

“That’s the first time you’ve mentioned her in almost five years.”

I shrugged. “I think of her damn near daily.” Lisa death was traumatic to say the least.

“Yeah, I kinda figured.”

I went back to cooking and let him work out my dilemma. That’s why he was the Dom.

“Do you really think every chance is gone?” He asked finally.

“Shot ta hell.” I looked at him over my shoulder. “Did I mention that I pissed off her father and tried ta rape her sister as well?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, ok, her father’s likely not that mad. Actually, he like as not the only one who don’t hate me – least ‘til he hears about Amanda. The sister – Amanda – total bitch. I just threatened ta rape her just ta get her out the car.” I smirked. “She looks like a walking victim. I cannot believe she’s even related to Ame.”

“How much of the sister was empty threat?”

I thought for a moment and could feel the smile growing. Big tits, long hair, bitch needed to be hurt….

“Never mind.” Peter shook his head. “Jesus.”

I shrugged. “Sorry, Sir. But I told her to back off. I was even nice the first time.”

“Ok. Let me think.”

He thought; I cooked. After a while, he shook his head again. "You apologize – in writing – to the sister. And then you leave the whole family alone. Sorry."

I nodded. That's about what I thought he'd say. "I have ta see Ame; we got uh presentation in two weeks an' another ten weeks uh class after that."

"You are a walking hazard, you know that?" He was only half joking.

"Did I tell you her Dad's on uh city counsel?"

"Yeah? Which one?"

"Oh, 'cause I asked,” I quipped with a shrug. “I totally impressed him, though."

"What, the money or football?”

"Actually, I didn't get to either. Sen. Wallace was there."

"Chesapeake Bay's finest." He groaned laughing.

"Yeah, Jesus! What uh mouth! I mentioned Uncle Julius an' couldn't say another word for like an hour. Wilson – her dad's – standin' next to me just waiting for him ta stop."

"How'd you get away from him?"

"He wann'ed ta talk someone else's ear off." I mimicked the man, "Let me jus' say uh few words ta..."

"Few!" Peter laughed, "Ok, so you won the Father. Mother?"

I shrugged, "I wasn't introduced ta one an' she wasn't mentioned."

"Passed away or ugly divorce."

I thought for a second. That would fit. "Yeah, likely. Plates?" he set the table while I looked for some vegetables to steam. Seeing a bottle of wine on the counter reminded me. "I did have one spectacular moment, though."

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah. I kissed her."

"On a 'don't touch' night too. I should suspend you..."

"...yeah..."

"Maybe I'll let it slide."

I leered at him, "Sicko! You just wanna spank my ass."

He took a step closer, "You need ta be spanked."

"I need more than that." Pent up frustration threatened to overwhelm me and I grabbed him.

He twisted my arm back and pulled me close. He was still stronger than me although not by much. Enough.

"Careful." He whispered. I shivered involuntarily. He still got to me like no one else, "If you can't be cool, I'll make you wear your leash in public."

My breath caught. I would hate that which was exactly why the idea made my knees weak. I swallowed hard and tried to breathe normally.

"You cool?" His lips brushed mine.

"Yes, Sir," I breathed.

"Good." He kissed me softly. Slowly. "I'd hate to think you can't hold it together." He lowered his lips to mine again.

"Peter?"

He sprang away from me like he’d been shot or something as Gwen's voice called from the next room. "In the kitchen, Honey."

She came in and I turned back to the stove. It took a minute to steady my breathing so I could ignore them cooing. I got dinner and myself together and the three of us ate in the kitchen.

After, I made my excuses and headed to my room. I hit the books for a while, and lifted weights and turned off my cell phone when I found myself waiting for it to ring.

Monday/Wednesday were late days for me. Peter still swam every morning at 5am but I didn’t do that kind of crap. My first class Monday was at 11:45. Still, that Monday seemed unusually long with everything dragging on. I was just glad when I got home and had the house – and the TV – to myself. Even that got old after a while and I called Peter just to bug him. He didn’t answer. Tuesday was more of the same until 3:45.

I got to class late – mostly 'cause I didn’t want to meet her at the door – and sat on the opposite side of the room. I got started talking with the girl next to me, Maya, who was cute – very athletic looking – and asked her out after class. By the end of class, I figured it was safe to look in Ame's direction.

It was not.

She was looking at me. Cold. Closed. My throat went dry and my heart raced. Her head tilted slightly.

She could not want to speak to me. Luck like that I did not deserve.

When everyone else had left the room, she was still waiting. I thought fast. She liked strength, it seemed. I turned back to my desk and packed my stuff as if I didn’t want to crawl over on my knees and beg for her forgiveness. I tried to settle my nerves as well as my books. When I walked over to her, I hoped I looked calmer than I felt.

"Uh..." I couldn't think of the first word to say.

"I didn't get my water today." She looked away from me and slowly, methodically, put away her books. "You were late."

"Uh, yeah, I, uh..."

"I dislike late."

"...uh..."

"Don't be late again."

A second chance! She gave me a second chance. She liked me – enough to give me a second chance. "Yes, Ma'am." I tried not to grin; tried to be as cool as she was but I knew I was failing miserably. I didn’t care.

"Alex!" Peter burst in which was a surprise as much for the ‘who’ as the ‘how’. "Alex, dude, you are not gonna believe--" He stopped short when he saw Ame. My cousin's a bright boy and it only took a few seconds for him to regain his usual composure. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. Alex, may I see you in the hall for just a moment?"

He was all but bouncing. He wasn't this jazzed about the damn Olympics. "What? Peter, you 'bout ta burst!"

"Yeah, yeah, hey is that Ame?" He was grinning.

"Yeah, so what up?"

"Cute. Very cute." He was actually fidgety.

"Peter! What the fuck is up?"

"Ok. So I haven't discussed this with you yet - totally unexpected - so if you don't agree, it's not a problem..."

"Peter, you don't have ta ask me anything." I stepped forward to be sure we were out of Ame's view. "I'm the sub. You want it, do it."

He turned serious for a moment, "I know you say that but what you want counts. And this is big. Gwen's dorm's closing at the end of the semester."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, so how would you feel if she moved in with us?"

Like someone had just hit me with a lead pipe - and not in a good way. Things ended badly when we tried that with Yvette. I tried to smile anyway. "You master uh the house an' all. You want uh mistress uh the house, ain't my place ta say."

He pushed me against the wall, reminding me of just how long it had been since he'd had me. "This is not about you an' me. She didn’t get any 'rights' to you just 'cause she's living there. She an' I are together and I wanna live with her. If you object to living with her, that's fine, ok. But you are not some toy that I just pass around 'cause someone else in the house. We clear?"

Clearer that he knew. He couldn't do this. He couldn't with Yvette; and I knew he wouldn't pull it off with Gwen. He couldn't hide how he feels and that kills it every time. I didn’t think he knew that. "Clear, Sir." I kept my voice low and his eyes darted to the classroom.

He let me go and cleared his throat. "Come on. We're meeting Gwen at Legal’s."

I got my books. Ame was waiting and although her face was composed, I knew she wasn’t waiting patiently. "Uh," I glanced back at Peter who had already crashed from his emotional high – thanks to me – and looked back at Ame. "Uh, look, I gotta go..."

"Yes." She lifted her eyebrows. "You have a date."

"Well, dinner anyway. Peter's – oh yeah, you haven't met Peter -"

She cut me off, "You're meeting Maya at the student union in –" she looked at her watch "45 minutes."

I had forgotten her that fast. "Oh shit."

Peter groaned and shook his head, "You uh walking hazard."

I found my cell and canceled the date. She wasn’t too upset so I suspected going out with me wasn't a high priority thing - which was good. I hung up in time to hear Peter invite Ame to dinner with us.

"It sounds lovely, thank you. What time should I meet you?"

She and Peter worked out the details and I watched them with this weird sense of seeing double. She said goodbye to Peter, picked up her bag and left without so much as a glance at me. Like the old song said, 'hate to see her go but love to watch her leave.' That was an ass.

Peter's fingers pulling my hair got my attention back quick. "Now, tell me the truth. Do you mind about Gwen?"

"Peter, agh, look, I don't wanna fuck her an' I don't care if-n she gives orders. I'm cool."

"Are you sure?"

"Peter, if-n the girl I was bangin' wanted ta move in, you'd find out when she got there."

"That's because you..." he leaned in and kissed me "...are a shithead."

"Asshole." I whispered; I was flirting with a suspension.

"Careful..." His lips teased mine again. He must want me almost as much as I want him. I started to wonder how far we could go in a classroom.

"Eh-hem." An unfamiliar voice caught our attention and we looked up to find people coming in - a few giggling - "Get a room. Another room."

I grabbed my books and we left in a rush.

"You know any of them?" Peter asked as we feign nonchalance down the hall.

"Uh-un. You?"

"Nope. Just glad we never got carried away like that back home."

"No shit."

We looked at each other.

And laughed all the way home.

We picked up Gwen and Ame at their respective dorms. The conversation in the car and as we settled in at the restaurant was mostly the two chicks deciding if they could got along. I could never read those things but Peter seemed happy, so whatever. After we ordered, there was a lull so I figure it was as bad a time as any to jump into the conversation.

"Hey, Gwen, you moving in fo' summer or you gonna wait ‘til fall?"

Three things happen.

Peter hit me - sharply - in the back of the head. That was the official non-verbal 'suspension' sign.

Gwen's jaw hit the floor. Belatedly, I wondered if Peter had actually asked her yet.

Ame sipped her water and said quietly, "I detest that red-neck jargon. Speak English or I'm going home."

"Ok." I looked around the table; that was not what I expected. I cleared my throat and thought for a second or two. "Ok. Gwen. I'm sorry, I, uh, thought Peter had discussed moving in with you already. Since we have extra space, you're welcome to use it." I glanced at Ame; she nodded slightly. First down.

Gwen stared at Peter and me while Peter, who at first was hyperventilating, was simply holding his breath.

"Is that what you were trying to ask me at lunch?" she asked.

"Basically." He cleared his throat. "I had more intended to ask if you would move in with me."

The difference in phrasing and intent was not lost on any of us. Dinner was pretty silent for a while after that.

"You're right, Peter," Ame pronounced.

"I'm sorry? About what?"

She tilted her head at me. "He is a walking hazard."

The three of them got a good chuckle at my expense.

"Funny." I shrugged, "Well at least it’s been asked now. So, if she'll just answer, Peter can breathe again." And I could go back to worrying about impressing Ame.

"The downside about the house," Peter said casually, "is that I can't actually throw Alex out, so you'd be stuck putting up with both of us."

Gwen looked at me then at Ame, "A girl could do worse than live with the two of them."

"True. At least they look good." She took a bite of her salad, "Have them both is like having two little black dresses – you always have something cute to parade around." They both found the comment terribly funny.

I found myself smiling over the fact that Ame thought I was cute. Then I tried to get a grip – what was I, still in high school?

Over dessert, Peter pointed out the fact that we wouldn’t actually be in the house over the summer but in Reedville working the family fishery.

“Oh, yeah,” I agreed. “We don’t actually have much of a choice ‘bout that. About that.”

“Really?” Ame looked me in the eye and I almost forget to respond to her question, “Why is that?”

Her eyes were gorgeous. Dark brown and just slightly almond shaped. Her face was gorgeous – her skin a pale almost peach color, her lips small and delicate – I wondered how I missed how delicate she is. Peter kicked me under the table and I coughed to cover the half-yelp. “Excuse me. Sorry. Uh, why’s that? That’s because the rules on Davidson shares haven’t changed in two hundred years.”

“Literally, two hundred,” Peter threw in.

“You get 10 shares at birth, everything else, you earn.”

“Boat, dock or office,” Peter nodded, “although, Uncle Marcus signed off on my education outreach plan so if your Dad can budget it, I’ll be teaching this summer.”

“Very cool.” We talked about home for a while. Filling the girls in on what it takes to run the fishery and what kind of work we usually wind up doing. “Last couple years, I’ve been in the dock house more than on the boats. Letting my Grandmamma take some time off for once.”

“I usually work the commercial boats,” Peter grinned, “like to insure I always out-rank Alex.”

As if there’s any chance of that changing, I thought but I didn’t say.

“So is that the split; guys on the boats, girls in the office?” Gwen asked.

“No.” Peter chuckled as I said “Hell, no.”

“It’s like anything else.” Peter said, “Some stay in the office – Alex’s sister for one – some stay out on the boats, some do both.”

“Beth.” I nodded.

“Yeah, my sister would rather do the office than the charter boats but she works the commercial boats every chance she gets.”

“She also sleepin’ with the first mate on one of ‘em.”

He laughed, embarrassed for her, “Ok, true, but that’s not why she’s out there. And she’s better at the helm than you are.”

“I’d be better at the helm if I were sleepin’ with the first mate.” I countered.

“Would you sleep with the first mate?” Ame asked.

I paused. “I’ll sleep with anybody you tell me to.” I didn’t mean to say that over dinner but there it was.

“Really?” Peter’s voice fairly dripped with innuendo and I thought fast to try to recover.

“Of course,” I chuckled, “I slept with half my high school so really, I’ll sleep with pretty much anybody.”

“Female, male,” Peter began listing as Gwen giggled, “dog, cat, panda, gold fish, lamp post…”

“That would be novel,” Ame jibed.

“…soft serve ice cream…”

“Too cold,” offered Gwen with a shiver.

“…dry wall, bricks, other construction materials…”

“Dry.”

“Scratchy.”

“Enough!” I could feel my face flush not entirely from the embarrassment – some of his suggestions might make it to my next wish list. “Ok, I have a healthy sexual appetite. We don’t need to make a public spectacle of it.”

“No, we certainly would want to do that, would we?” Peter’s voice was reasonably flat but I’d have wagered he was thinking of any number of times he had specifically made me perform in public. I tried to hide the shiver that passed up my spine.

“Anyway,” I changed the subject, “you guys should both totally come out this summer. Spend some time on the boats.”

“Maybe,” Gwen chirped as Ame deadpanned, “That will not be happening.”

Peter covered dinner. We took the girls back to campus and I walked Ame to her dorm door. I really wanted to kiss her but I’d all ready been luckier than I deserved.

“Tomorrow,” she said, “I have a manicure at 9am. Pick me up at 8:30.”

“And if I have plans?” I asked. I leaned in but resisted stealing the kiss. “What if I have a class?”

“You don’t,” she stated matter-of-factly. “And if you made plans, change them. Tomorrow is my Father’s birthday. We’re taking him out to dinner.”

“We?” ‘We'?

“He likes you.” She paused then added, “Don’t be flattered; he likes anyone who can fund his campaign. Oh, and regarding Maya – I don’t want you seeing her. As a point of fact, I don’t want you going out with anyone – male or female.”

I risked pulling even closer. “So does that mean I’m going out with you?”

She pushed me back. “It means you will not be going out with me if you do see anyone else. Gwen is fine. She has no interest in you.”

“Oh, thanks.” I was only partly factious. “Do I get to kiss you good night yet?”

“No.” Her hand stayed firmly on my chest, “And in the future, don’t ask. I will tell you if and when you have permission to touch me and how. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Is that how you would address me on board?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“So that’s why you call Peter ‘Sir’ – because he outranks you?”

I couldn’t help grinning. “Yeah, yeah. That’s roughly how that got started.” I was not going into that whole story right then.

“Very well. You may address me that way from now on.”

“Yes Ma’am, Ms. Am, Ma’am.”

“Ame.”

“One syllable. ‘Aim’. Shipboard, I’m ‘Al’, he’s ‘Pete’, you’re ‘Am’.”

“A-me. I will tolerate Amelia. You should stick to ‘Ma’am’ then. I will not be shipboard.”

I grinned. She was so damn pushy – so demanding – so gorgeous. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Very good.” She looked at me for a moment. “You were reasonably well behaved tonight. You may kiss me goodnight now.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” She didn’t mention ‘touch’ and I didn’t want to press my luck so I brace my hand on the door behind her and leaned down. She was so short; it seemed to take forever for my lips to reach hers. After only a second of contact her lips parted and the tip of her tongue brushed mine. I braced my other hand and pushed her against the door. I wanted nothing more than to carry her upstairs and take her hard. Instead, I let my tongue explore the cool after-dinner-mint taste of her mouth.

Her hands tightened at my waist then her nails dug in, pulling me even closer to her body. I groaned into our kiss. She was pressed hard against the door but I could no longer tell if I was pushing or she was pulling. Slowly her nails loosened their grip and her hands travel up my body. After resting on my chest a moment, they pushed me away with one hard shove.

“Good night,” She said simply as she slipped under my arm and calmly entered the building. I was on fire. She wasn’t even warm. I slumped against the door and tried to breathe again.

Peter was on the phone with Gwen when I got to the car. They exchange one of those silly ‘you hang up first’ goodbyes. Then he looked at me and grinned. “She said yes.”

“Excellent.” I could still feel the sting of her nails.

“We were thinking of maybe not waiting ‘til summer, though.”

“Cool.” I was so hard right then I was surprised I wasn’t ripping through my pants.

“I was kinda thinking ‘bout next weekend.”

“Good, good.” I could feel my head nodding but I knew I wasn’t paying attention.

“Are you ok?”

“She let me kiss her,” I said. I shook my head. “Totally hung up on this one, Peter.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

When we got home, I took the stairs two at a time.

“What’s the rush?” He asked.

“Early ta bed, early ta rise. Got me uh breakfast date.” I started up again, “Oh, yeah and uh dinner date.”

“And no time to play?” I stopped cold. “Downstairs?” I turned and faced him. “I think you deserve it.”

Downstairs, in the basement, was Uncle Julius’ playroom. A little sound proofed room with an adjustable padded table, a freestanding frame and a dresser full of toys. He let us use it. Peter was very good. He followed me down the staircase as I grabbed the keys and unlocked the doors. I got my collar and cuffs, and then laid out my ‘wish list’ of toys: the whip, the paddle, the alligator clips, the candles and matches. Peter didn’t have to do anything but fix himself a drink out of Uncle Julius’ premium booze and relax in the recliner.

When I finished preparing the room, I stripped and put on the collar and cuffs. Then I stood at parade rest and waited. I was shaking more from anticipation than the slight chill in the air. He let me stand there which he knew made me crazy. Patience was never my strong suit and waiting for sex was an easy way to put me on a short chain.

He finished his drink before he got up and inspected the table. He picked up the whip and walked over to me. My dick was standing at full attention as he walked slowly around me.

“You,” he hissed from behind me, “are having an affair.”

“What?” I started to turn around but remembered that I was supposed to stand still and turned back. I swallowed hard.

He whispered in my ear, “Are you taking orders from Ame?” he stroked the whip handle down my spine.

“Uh. Yes, Sir.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“Oh, uh, shi-oot.” No swearing rule. Full disclosure rule. “No, Sir, I didn’t.”

“And why not?”

I shrugged helplessly, “Uh, forgot to, Sir.” If he had put me on suspension at that moment, Ida dropped dead.

“Do you think she’ll be a good Dominant for you? Think she can handle you?”

I paused. I hadn’t actually considered it. “She has so far.”

“But she hasn’t seen all of you yet, has she? He draped the whip around my neck and let it slowly drag across my shoulders. It didn’t hurt but it reminded me of how much it would hurt if he used it. “She doesn’t know what a dick you can be does she?”

“No, Sir.”

“You can only have one of us, you know.”

“I know,” I whispered. Then what he actually meant registered on my brain. “No! Wait!” I did turn and face him. “I’m not choosing her over you. No way. No Sir, that’s not…”

“Alex!” He snapped and I shut up. “It’s ok. I want you to find someone who enjoys this as much as you do.” He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. “I don’t mind being yo’ lover but I hate being yo’ master.”

He’d always hated that.

“I know.” I thought about what I knew about Ame so far. I shrugged. “I haven’t fucked her yet. I don’t know how she’ll handle that. I’ve been sticking to most of her rules so far.”

“Rules?”

“Uh, yeah, well kinda. She says stuff like ‘I hate it when you’re late’ and I kinda take it as a rule.”

“Really?” He continued to stroke my body with the coiled whip. “And why’s that?”

“I donno. Something in her voice has the same kinda tone you get. ‘Cept that you tell me it’s uh rule. She makes these statements and I just have to figure out if it’s a rule or not.”

He bit my earlobe. I bit my lip. “So are we breaking one of her rules now?”

I had to smile. “Oh, yeah. Big time. She told me specifically she didn’t want me seeing anybody else – male or female.”

“And you haven’t told her about us?”

“Fuck no!” I blurted out then groaned. “Sorry Sir. Slipped out.”

“I’ll let it go. It would be sort of cruel to send you upstairs now.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

“So this might be our last time for a while. Once Gwen moves in, we’re going to have to be a bit more circumspect.” He kissed me softly. “She doesn’t know about us either.”

“Oh. Right.”

“So. Down.”

“Down?”

“Down.” He put his hand on the top of my head and pushed until I was on my knees in front of him. I knew what to do from there and got his belt and zipper open. His dick was only at half-mast but a couple of laps from my tongue and he was ready to go. I sucked him like it was the last time I was ever gonna do it – which I realized it might be. I let him fuck my mouth hard, savoring his taste. I switched between sucking his dick and his nuts until he held my head still and unloaded. Then I waited instead of sucking him dry and he dropped down beside me and sucked my tongue into his mouth. He liked the taste of his jizz as much as I did. We rolled around on the floor kissing and groping until he was hard again – I never lost it.

He pulled back panting. "What's your record with the paddle?"

"32."

"That's all?"

"It reminds me too much of that first day on the boat."

"Yeah? How long would you last with a wooden spoon?"

I shivered. "Oh God. Two."

"We should find out," he purred, standing me up. He clipped my cuffs to the freestanding frame and went upstairs. I had to control the urge to blow when I heard him searching through the kitchen drawers.

He came back down with his hands behind his back and walked slowly behind me. He stroked my back, my ass, my legs with a wooden spoon and I nearly blew again. The first time, the spoon broke and left splinters, I was bruised and sore for days. I didn't know I could cum so hard. Now, I knew – he knew; I wasn’t gonna be able to bend over when he was done with me.

He tapped me, gently, two or three times then whipped it against me four times fast. It stung.

"Oh sweet Christ," I moaned.

I got to forty-five but I had to stop him twice before I got there – asking permission to come and being denied. "Oh god, Sir, please say yes. Please, please," I beg. Sometimes he let me if I begged.

Instead of replying, he unclipped my cuffs and pushed me on all fours. He was gonna fuck me. I whimpered.

I could hear him behind me opening the condom but I found my voice again, "Peter, please. This time, just you."

"Come again?"

"Bareback." I took a deep breath, "If-n this is our last time, I wanna really feel you."

He didn’t say anything for a long time. Then, his fingers jabbed into me, dry, with no warning. I howled and dry came. With Peter, that happened a lot.

When I was a shaking, whimpering mass, Peter pulled out his fingers and slid in his dick. He was slow for the first three, maybe four strokes. Then he picked up speed. I think he ripped something but it felt so good – so bad, so good, I couldn't tell the difference anymore – I didn’t care. He started moaning and reached around me to grab my dick. We both stroked my shaft in rhythm to him tearing my rectum in half.

When he came inside me for the first time ever, my whole body seems flooded with the warmth of him. I blew hard maybe a second later. We fell asleep on the basement floor.

Thank god for Peter's wrist alarm otherwise, neither of us would have made it out on time the next morning. He actually kissed me goodbye on the way out the door.

"Fag," I said with a slight smile.

"Pussy," he teased back.

Half an hour later, I was frantically dialing his cell.

"I got two minutes. What?"

"What do you wear to a manicure?"

"Excuse me?"

"Ame gets pissy about how I dress. She's got a manicure this morning. What should I wear?"

"Hmm, tricky," he mused. "Yeah, that is a tough one. Oh wait, I know. Clothes." He hung up.

"Asshole," I muttered at the dial tone.

I picked something and got to Ame's dorm early. I was waiting in her lobby when she got off the elevator. She didn’t actually greet me, but she almost cracked a smile.

At the spa, she greeted the receptionist in what I guess was either Korean or Vietnamese. I didn’t speak either – well, not more than a few words, at least. Ame paid up front then we were ushered in. There were more Asian women; I was the only guy of any group.

"Ok, so I'm gonna find a coffee shop or something..." I started but she cut me off.

"Sit down over there."

I sighed silently and sat in the indicated fancy massage chair. One of the women got it started for me. Then she started taking off my shoes.

"Whoa, whoa! Not me, uh, her!"

Ame gave a frustrated gasp, "Take your shoes off and put your feet in the soak." She was doing the same. My feet actually felt pretty good in the bubbling jets. Ame had tiny feet – a proportional match for her delicate features and small frame. It was unexpectedly intimate; the first bit of her I'd seen naked. I sat back and watched as another woman began rubbing and buffing Ame's feet. Very erotic. So much so, I didn’t complain when I felt them start with mine. I hoped this qualified as foreplay 'cause if they had uh place, I could make time.

I watched as the woman applied bright pink polish to Ame's toenails and glanced down to see what they were doing to me. She'd already applied the same color to half my foot.

I almost kicked her in the face trying to pull my foot away, "Hey! Hey! What the fuck..."

Ame hit me with the magazine she was reading. "Sit back or you'll smear it and she'll have to start over."

I looked at her, mouth open to argue. She looked back with her usual nearly blank expression.

Then I felt it. The same warm tingly feeling I got when Peter made me do something embarrassing but secret. Like wear my collar and leash under my shirt all day. Or the extensive lingerie collection he had just to fuck with me. My dick lurched as I sat back and watched the woman apply bright pink polish to the rest of my toes.

I had been marked. It was not permanent, but it was very visible.

"How long is this gonna last?" I asked her.

"A month or so. Unless I re-apply it." She almost smiled again.

I concentrated on keeping my breathing level, on not letting on how much it turned me on. Peter didn't mark me for two years and even then, I had to beg him for it. Of course, that one was permanent. This was...different. A bit emasculating, which from her was...?

Hot. Very, very, very hot.

When they finished with our feet, they gave us a pair of flip-flops and sat us at separate manicure stations. This time I paid close attention as the woman massaged, cleaned, moisturized, trimmed and filed my fingernails. When she reached for the polish, I pulled my hand firmly away. "No." After a brief hesitation, she put the polish down and picked up another tool. Warily, I gave her my hand back and she buffed my nails ‘til they shined. It didn’t look like polish, but my hands did looked Polished. Now I knew what to give Peter on his next birthday; he'd love that kinda shit.

I sat at the nail drying station and only waited a couple of minutes – flipping through an old issue of Cosmo – before Ame joined me. Her nails were a delicate, pale peach. "Pretty."

"I thought so. Ngoc is very talented. Hands?"

I showed her my hands and she got her approval.

"Are you actually reading that?"

"No," I laughed, "I'm a pain slut not a sissy."

"You won't be spending much time with me if you cannot be less vulgar."

"Ah. Right. Sorry." She was stuck sitting with her finger spread under a heat lamp. "Can I get you anything?"

"No. About tonight. Amanda will be attending with Foster who is her fiancé – despite the behavior you witnessed from her. He is black. I trust you have no racial issues?"

"What, you mean with the Asian girl I'm chasing or my black grandmother?"

"I hadn't realized."

"Yep." I pulled out a photo of my redneck grandfather and dark black grandmother. "Got married as soon as it was legal."

She nodded as if this news met with her approval. "My mother was Vietnamese so Father is very concerned about race relations. It’s still a very large issue in Alexandria.”

"That where his council seat is?"

"Yes."

I nodded. "Your mom gonna be there?"

Her body went stiff and a fleeting look of pain crossed her face. "No. We don't discuss her," she hesitated before adding. "She died in childbirth when my sister and I were born.

"Oh. Uh..." Of all the thoughtless...she even said ‘was’.

"You needn't panic. You couldn't have known. It was a perfectly reasonable question."

"Yeah, but still, I'm-"

"Please. Drop it." I closed my mouth and nodded once.

"Thank you. Now, Foster has political aspirations so he and father will get mired in the topic. Please don't feel obligated to join in – I'd rather you remain silent than be drawn into a debate you are ill equipped for. Father is a football fan so if the opportunity comes up feel free to discuss sports."

I listened to her go on. Uncle Julius made sure that we were all versed in politics and I did actually read a newspaper on occasion. I didn’t know how stupid she thought I was but I hoped I’d surprise her.

"Do you dance?" she asked suddenly.

"Oh we square dance up at the holler..." I started but her look stopped that.

"Not cute. I will ask again, do you dance?"

"Yeah. I mean formal stuff. I was – ok, don't laugh – I was on my high school Ballroom Dance Team." My Gold Cup high school team to be exact.

Her look changed to one of disbelief. "Really? Waltz? Tango?"

I shrugged. "It was on a bet with Peter." I remembered Leigh and smiled "Then my girlfriend joined and it kinda stuck."

"Good. The restaurant has a live combo. I was hoping to dance with you rather than Foster. Foster, I should warn you, is what Father expects in a son-in-law so expect comments to that effect from Amanda. Is there anything else you need to know?"

I shrugged. I didn't need to know any of what she'd said so far. "What to wear, where to be, what time."

She made me write those details down. Then she surprised me and asked about the fishery. I glossed over the physical labor and when into detail about the front office stuff - just 'cause it bored me didn’t mean I didn’t know how the company works or how much we pulled in. But I figured Ame would care more about how many dollars than how many fish.

After twenty minutes or so, she checked her nails. "I'm dry," she said over me. "We may go."

"Ok." I had to admit, being ignored was beginning ta bug me. It was threatening to outweigh my attraction to her. I drove her, silently, back to campus. She opened her own car door.

"You will pick me up, here, at 6." she walked off and I debated standing her up just to teach the rude bitch a lesson.

Instead, I was in her lobby, properly dressed, at 5:45 - feeling like a complete pussy. With pink fuckin' toenails under my designer wingtips. At six on the dot, she stepped off the elevator and nodded to me. I opened all the doors, drove where she told me to and hung her coat when we got there.

"By the way," I said as I got the coat check tag, "you look lovely." She'd look great in a sack but the suit’s cut was perfect and flattered her figure. I'd been checkin' her ass every chance I got.

She tilted her head at me, "You mean that, don't you?" I shrugged; I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. "Thank you."

At the bar, I saw Wilson, Amanda and a guy the size of the Viking defensive line – not one player, the whole freakin' line. Ame greeted them cordially. I shook hands with Wilson.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Sir."

"Mac." He looked surprised to see me. "Good to see you as well." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Amanda whisper something to Foster but I had one thing to take care of first.

"Actually, Sir, 'Mac' is an Ame thing. My name is Alex."

"And no one calls you Mac?"

I glanced at Ame and nodded. "No one."

"Alright." He seemed to realize that he was taking sides on this one. "Alex it is. Alex, you remember Amanda, my other daughter. This is her fiancé, Foster Lawson. Foster, Alex McElroy."

The mountain stood up and offered his hand. He didn’t look happy so I figured Amanda'd come up with a couple lies about our encounter. I smiled anyway.

"Pleasure to meet you."

He rumbled some response and the waitress escorting us to a table spared me any further awkwardness.

For the most part, over dinner, I let Wilson lead the conversation. He was pretty liberal compared to the generally conservative bend in my family but on a few points he and Granddad saw eye-to-eye. I followed Ame's instructions and kept my mouth shut until they started talking about the watershed bill and lifting some of the restrictions.

"Whoa, now, hold up."

"You have an opinion?" Foster intoned.

"Damn straight. The Potomac feed straight inta the Chesapeake. You screw with those watersheds, you affect everything as far south as Norfolk, and the Maryland side too." Ame tried to stop me but I gestured her silent. "Quiet, Woman. Neither uh you ever made your livin' off the river. We take a more holistic view." We spent the next hour batting back and forth the commercial needs on both sides of the issue before Amanda stood in a huff.

"This is boring, Foster. If you won't dance, I'll find someone who will." She marched off. After a moment, Foster excused himself and followed her.

"I'm sorry, Ame. We were kinda rude. Would you like to dance?" I asked her.

"I wouldn’t want to interrupt." She looked at her Father, "You seemed to be enjoying the conversation."

"I was. But your sister, I think, needs a break."

Ame stood up and I gestured to Wilson, "Sir?"

Again, I think I surprised him. "Thank you." He said thoughtfully and guided Ame on to the dance floor.

I watched them move - both pairs. Foster and Amanda looked like they are trying not to have a public argument. Ame and Wilson were having a Daddy-Daughter moment. I could see it in the way she looked at him. They adored each other. I was glad she loved someone and showed it. It gave me hope.

As the first song ended, Wilson looked in my direction and I gestured him to stay put. He smiled and continued dancing with his daughter. It was actually pretty touching.

But I wanted ta dance with her eventually. During the third song, I wandered over to the bandleader and, when he had a second to acknowledge me, requested a Samba next. I loved a good Samba; it was like public sex.

I came up behind Ame - Wilson could see me but she couldn't - and signaled that I'd like to cut in. He twirled her almost perfectly into my arms.

"I don't recall saying we could dance." She was actually haughty.

"Dance," I said as the Samba started, "is non-negotiable. I lead." I started with the basic step just to see how well she followed me. Each time she tried to lead, I pulled her firmly back into step. I was not All-State Top-5 two years running to have her lead me out now. Once I was sure she was in-sync, I added a few small changes. Then a few twists. She kept up. As the next song flowed into the next and the next, we didn’t talk. We didn’t need to; the conversation was between our eyes and our hips.

I am so doin' her tonight, I thought.

A tango started and she stopped moving, "Not tonight."

It was so symbolic, I had to laugh, "Yes, Ma’am." I presumed that meant vertical as well as horizontal. I walked her back to the table.

"You two are pretty good," Wilson said.

"I danced some in high school." No need to brag right then. "Hey, Foster, tell me you play ball."

He rolled his eyes but conceded, "Center line, actually. But I'm trying to be a politician not an ex-athlete."

“Oh yes,” Wilson’s eyes lit up. “Amelia mentioned that you're playing for George Mason this year, Alex."

"Yes Sir. Defensive end." The conversation moved to football. Foster played two seasons as a benchwarmer for the 'Skins; just enough experience to say he played pro but not enough to be anybody anybody's heard of. For a guy who wanted to be a politician, he still talked a good game. I wound up inviting them both to come fishing. "We'll take a boat, spend the mornin' lookin' at tributaries, spend the afternoon drinkin' beer. Give you some real insight on these watersheds."

We were discussing possible dates when Ame cleared her throat loudly for like the third time, "What?" I snapped at her.

She lifted her eyebrows and stared at me blandly. This is one of these damn tests, I thought. Then I caught sight of the band packing up for the night. I took a guess, "You have an early class tomorrow, don't you?" Her expression told me I hit it, "Sir, it's been a pleasure..."

"...But duty calls. Please, the pleasure’s been mine." He picked up the check but Ame took it from him.

"Please, Daddy, it's your birthday. Let me." She handed the bill to me.

I looked at the offered billfold for a moment before looking at Ame. Once again, her face was nearly unreadable. I wasn’t sure what kind of test this was but I didn’t like it. Still, when Wilson reached for it again, and Foster offered to pay half, I didn’t give either of them a chance to touch it.

"I wouldn't hear of it, Sir. Please." I slipped my card into the billfold and waived the waiter over while both men made a polite protest. "Honestly, consider it my gift." Then after a pause I added, "Ame an’ my gift. Happy Birthday and many, many more."

Ame and I got in the car, and got almost a mile before I pulled over and turned on the dome light. "What the hell was that about?"

"Don't worry; I'll reimburse you the cost of the meal," She said nonchalantly, "It's late. I need my rest."

"Hey, I'm cool buyin' yo' Dad dinner so keep yo' damn money. I am not so cool with you tryin' ta spend mine. What the fuck?" She gave me that arched look. I guessed the 'no swearing' rule applied. "Sorry. Look if you was testin’ my bank account, yes, I got one."

"I honestly have enough of my own."

"Then what the hell was that about?"

She looked at me then sighed impatiently. "You may have noticed that my sister and I do not get along well?"

"Yeah? So what, you tryin' ta one-up her?"

"She'll have to go some to get Foster to willingly top that. He knows we compete this way." I absorbed that one and she sighed impatiently, “Yes, I used your ignorance for my own purposes. If that bothers you…”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“Look, I don’t know what you want from me, but I’m not stupid, right? I mean, I can take a fair amount of abuse, but I’m not about ta let you take advantage of me, ’k?”

“What exactly is the difference between those?”

“Ok, yeah, let’s go ‘head an’ have this conversation.” I took a deep breath. This was usually the last conversation I had with a girl. “I’m submissive, usually, by preference. I like pain. I got a serious fetish. Hard core. No permanent marks –” I couldn’t help smiling, “– I’m saving that for marriage. But if it hurts, I’ll try it. I’d rather receive than give but I’ll do you if you want. Really, I’m…aggressive if I lead. I mean, I like a bit of a fight.”

“Bondage?”

“If you can tie me up, be my guest. I don’t wanna tie you, though; I don’t like uh girl who can’t say no which is why I ain’t into your sister but you….” I looked her over again, “…I’ll bet you say no all the time.”

“I see. And you felt the need to share this with me because…?”

”Cause I got uh feeling you an’ me on the same page, roughly. You just don’t know me well enough to know my limits.”

“Which are?”

I shrugged. “I ain’t buyin’ you the damn world, for one. I ain’t goin’ ta jail. If I actually use uh safe word, I ain’t doin’ it – whatever ‘it’ is.”

“You have a safe word?”

“Peanut Butter.”

“I see.” She nodded to herself. “Alright.”

“Alright? Alright what?”

“Alright, I heard what you have to say. Please take me home now; I’d like to get some sleep.”

I looked at her for a moment and when I realized that was all she had to say, I flipped off the light and re-started the car. My own damn fault; I should have let her bring the subject up. I drove back to her dorm and opened the car door for her.

She stood and paused. “I think you may kiss me tonight.” I pecked her lightly figuring there was no point in pushing the issue. She grabbed my hair and kissed me fiercely. Then she yanked me away so unexpectedly that I nearly fell back. “Good night,” she said as she walked up the stairs.

I sagged against the car. This girl’s gonna give me whiplash, I thought to myself.

For the next week, she acted no differently. I fetched and carried for her in class and she issued occasional orders for me to run her on errands or take her out. Gwen moved into the house, cutting Peter and my time together to nil.

Much to my surprise, it got to both of us way faster than I expected. Little things that Peter would have spanked me for seem to crop up constantly and it was as if not being able to do it was driving us both crazy. Gwen was not nearly as observant as Peter’s last live-in, however, so she didn’t catch a bit of it. In a matter a days, it became a game for Peter and I – how long could we keep makin’ eyes at each other without Gwen noticing ‘fore we slipped downstairs an’ screwed around? I actually was getting up to get the basement door key when my phone rang.

“We are going away this weekend. Pack very lightly.” Ame hesitated then added, “bring whatever you need to feel comfortable afterwards.” She hung up before I could respond. I called her back but it went straight to her voice mail.

I thought about it for a day. Ame never mentioned the call in class or anywhere else and cut me off if I started to ask about it.

Thursday, I got a couple minutes alone with Peter while I cooked dinner. "Ame wants me to go away with her this weekend. She wants me to bring what I need to feel comfortable after. Any idea what the hell that means?"

He frowned, "No. You sure you want ta go?"

"A weekend with Ame? Shit yeah."

"Language."

I grinned, "Fuck off. You ain't the boss uh me."

"Wanna bet?" He leaned against the counter. "Think I can't still kick yo' ass?"

"Can you two be left alone for even a second without fighting?" Gwen wandered into the kitchen and Peter and I stopped flirting. "Honestly, how did you not break anything before I got here?"

"I have no idea, sweetheart." Peter slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek loudly. She giggled and tried – unsuccessfully – to push him away. "But you have definitely made us more civilized."

I went back to cooking and she left the kitchen. After a minute, Peter asked. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit. What?"

"Nothin' Sir. Peter." I stopped and faced him. "I like seein' you in love, ok?" I turned back to the stove. "Faggot," I muttered under my breath.

I felt him come up behind me. He pressed against me and moved my hair to kiss the back of my neck. "Yeah, I love you too. I hope she works out." He left. I finished cooking.

Just before bed, Peter knocked on my door. "I think I know what she was talking about." He had that 'this is serious' look on his face. "You an' me, we've always been about control. But some D/s relationships are about humiliation and pain. The sub needs recovery time not just physical. A day to actually be able to walk without crying. Not just band aids, iodine and burn cream. Psychological shit. Not Jessie, Barb." He paused then cleared his throat. "I don't want her doing anything like that to you. You trust her?"

I opened my mouth and stopped. It occurred to that nobody but Peter had ever really hurt me. A couple of girls had teased and poked; but the serious shit – whips, fishing hooks – that shit had all come from Peter. With him, I had no fear. I trusted him with more than just my life.

Ame, however, was not bound to Peter's rules and didn't have Peter's reasons for hurting me – helping me.

"You think, maybe I shouldn't go?"

"I think, maybe, you oughta be damn sure about her if you do."

He sat beside me on the bed and put his arm around my shoulder. "What you wanna do?"

"I-" Gwen tapped on the door.

"Hey, everything ok in here?" I knew she was trying to be nice but I didn't need her right then.

Peter cleared his throat then switched to command mode. Gwen may not have recognized it yet, but she learned it later and fast. "Gwen. Go on to bed. I'll be in shortly."

"Is everything ok? I wouldn't-"

"Fine. Personal. You don't need to worry. This is an Alex thing. Good night."

She looked a bit put out when she closed door.

"Sorry," he said and moved a hair out of my face. "Do you want to do this?"

I take a breath. I hadn't been scared about this stuff since that first night at Uncle Julius'. I tried to think of all the things she could do to me and twin rushes of fear and lust whipped through me. "Oh God. Yeah. Sir, Peter, I know you want me ta be safe an' dude, I love you for it, but I don't care if she kills me, I wanna feel every excruciating minute of it."

"I doubt she gonna kill her ride home. I’m worried 'bout you comin' home scared for life by some emotional mind fuck."

I smiled at him. "Ain't nothin’ she kin do, you can't undo. She just unother cunt – you own me."

He held me tightly then kissed my forehead. "Get some sleep."

"Yeah, you too."

Friday, after class, Ame gave me an address in Shenandoah. It took about three silent hours to get there. We stopped at a secluded cabin in the woods. It had a phone, and electricity and not much else. There was an eat-in kitchen, which was nice because judging by the nearest neighbor, delivery would have been damn slow. There were only three rooms: the kitchen, the bedroom and the living room. The living room had a couch and loveseat, a fireplace and a hot tub. The bedroom had a king-size bed and not much else.

"Get the bags from the car," she told me, "and put them in the bedroom." I obeyed. I had only brought a shoulder bag with two clean shirts and two pair of briefs. Ame brought three full-sized suitcases. She stood in the door as I put down the last one. "Put the blue one on the bed. Then strip."

I froze, not quite sure I heard her. "Come again?"

"Was your last mistress in the habit of repeating herself?"

"No Ma’am." Not often, at least. Strip. "Yes, Ma’am." I put the case on the bed and took off my clothes.

"Face the window and kneel." I did that too. Behind me, I could hear the case opening. "Have you ever been bound?"

Oh my sweet lord Jesus. "No Ma’am." I tried to keep my voice steady; to not show how excited and in honesty how scared I was. Mr. Happy did not want to cooperate and I had a raging hard-on but I couldn't do anything about that.

She pulled a leather mask over my head. There were small holes so I could breath and hear but there was no way for me to see or speak.

"Say 'peanut butter'." she ordered. I said it. "Again. Fine. I can hear you. Stand up." She walked me a few steps to...somewhere else. "When you are with me, this is how you will be – naked and masked. Even when you are dressed, in public, you will behave with me as if you are naked and masked. I will abide, temporarily with your request for no permanent marks because, frankly, I don't think you will last the entire weekend. I will also honor your safe word – again, for the time being. You may say 'peanut butter' at anytime and I will stop what I am doing. That, however, is the only thing you may say until I give you permission to speak. If you understand and agree, put your hands behind your back, and we'll begin."

I hesitated for a second. Not because I was unsure, I wasn’t. Mentally, I said goodbye to Peter. I knew this would change me - change us. I put my hands behind my back.

Ame bound me - I found out later, that the method she used was Japanese - but she used one piece of rope and managed to link my wrists, ankles, neck and abdomen. Shifting any of them more than half an inch, constricted the others. She left me tied for days it seemed. I could hear distant movement but nothing I could identify. The mask became hot and sweaty very quickly. After a while, I started to cramp. Every time I tried to stretch, I choked myself. "Shit!" I swore.

Almost instantly, something searing hot pressed against my foot. I swore again and it was pressed against both feet. I bit my lip and forced myself not to swear a third time. Unbelievably, my dick twitched. My legs cramped badly and I simply groaned rather than choke myself again or disobey the no talking rule. I mistakenly let two other words slip out and was rewarded with two more searing touches. If this were Peter, after the second, I would have begged him to let me cum. Since I couldn't ask, I just held back and whimpered.

At some point, she tugged the bonds and I hissed. "You may say one word. What hurts most?"

"Legs." It was an easy answer; they were cramping so much, I was considering saying peanut butter over it.

She released my legs and massaged them gently. I moaned but I wasn't sure if it was relief or bliss. Not until her hand grabbed my nuts and yanked. I dry came, convulsing helplessly.

"Well, that was unique." She observed blandly, when I stopped shaking. "Explain. What was that?"

"When I hold back, sometimes, I cum but without the j-" language I reminded myself "-ejaculate."

"Can you orgasm on command?"

Oh shit, now that's uh skill. "No Ma’am. I can't cum - orgasm - without permission. My old Dom wann'd me ta learn control. We didn't know 'bout dry cummin' ‘til it started happening."

"So she told you before hand if you had permission or not?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes I had ta beg for it."

"She made you beg for it." she sounded intrigued. "Now there's an idea. The next time you think you're going to orgasm, say ‘jelly’. I may let you beg for it. Now, what's this?" Something sharp pointed against my sac.

"It look like uh scar where uh nail was pushed through?" I asked.

"Yes."

I nodded. "It's the scar where a fish hook was pushed through."

"I thought no permanent marks."

"It was kinda an accident. We were fooling around below deck an' hit uh storm. I was trying to talk him into sticking me with the thing an' we both got knocked over. I'm just lucky it went in the skin 'steada my nut."

"Alright. Stand."

Conversation has ended, I guess, I thought and stood up. My legs were a little tingly but not bad. She pulled my arms and I hurried to keep up with her or choke. I could hear the crackling of the fireplace and felt the warmth on my lower half. Something behind me clicked. Then I heard the snap of a whip. I shivered. Peter only whipped me once – too much risk of scaring. Several tendrils of a leather cat-o-nine popped against my legs. Not hard enough – not nearly hard enough – but it made me quiver anyway.

Ame whipped my back and sides, hard enough to sting. I figured I would probably have some welts by the time it was all said and done.

Then I felt the whip on my dick.

"Jelly." I said.

"You want to climax when I do this?" She whipped my dick again.

"Jelly." I swallowed hard. If she did that again, I wasn't sure I could hold back.

"Ok, beg me." she pulled at the mask and a mouthpiece opened.

"Oh, God please let me cum. I'm so close. You do that again Ima cum anyway. I'll be good. I promise. Please. I'll do anything you want."

"You'll do that anyway." Her voice was deep and breathy. "Enough. From now on, you may orgasm at will. I will let you know before we begin if you have to beg for it." She re-sealed my mouth and hit my dick twice hard with the whip.

I whimpered knowing that the next hit would send me over the edge. It didn't land and I took the respite to try to pull back. The longer I last, the more games we could play, I thought.

Then two whips hit me – one across my ass, one across my dick. She seemed to be crisscrossing them as fast as she could. I tried to move but discovered that my bonds had been anchored and the movement nearly choked me again.

I came hard. I came so hard I cried. Or maybe it was the pain - just 'cause I got off didn't mean it still didn't fuckin' hurt.

I stood there trying not to fall over, feeling wasted and exhilarated when she opened the mouth of my mask again and I could smell the pussy before her fingers touched my lips.

She tasted sweet and hot and must have been dripping wet. I lapped at her fingertips because it was all she would give me. I decided to take a chance. "Let me lick yo' pussy, Ma’am."

She pulled her fingers away and closed the mask. "No talking." The searing hot thing was pressed against my spine and I swore silently. "I knew your mouth would be your downfall. Now stay silent or I will glue your lips shut."

I debated whether she would actually do that for all of maybe a second and a half before I resolved to bite through my own lip before saying another word.

Ame had more toys in her suitcase. Toys that stung. Toys that pinched. She asked me very few questions. I had to say peanut butter once – when she re-bound my legs and I lost sensation in them. After that, she unbound me completely except for the mask. I could hear the hot tub jets running soon after. She put me in it and let me soak for an hour or so. I could smell something piney-medicinal in the water. I fell asleep and woke to her prodding me.

She un-strapped the mask. We were in the bathroom with the lights out. "This is your first opportunity to stop this entirely. Take your time; bathe, relieve yourself. When you come out, we will have dinner. You may speak normally at all meals. You do not have to wear your mask." She left the room.

I turned on the light and immediately turned it off again. Way too bright for my eyes. I tried it again and squinted for a few minutes in the glare. I looked beat up. I did shower and the rest and felt almost human after. I also studied the mask for a moment. It must be inhuman - no eyes at all, just a nose and a patch over the mask.

She said I didn’t have to wear it at meals. I figured that was probably a good idea. She hadn't left me any clothes. I was smug enough to figure that was to see her handiwork on my body. Even bruised, I look good.

I joined her in the kitchen. I could smell the fish sauce. "Pho Tai? I didn't know you cooked."

"Pho Chin. I didn't presume you knew anything about Vietnamese cuisine."

“We spent a summer in Asia.” I shrugged. "I'm better with Thai but I got some passable cooking skills."

"Thai? Doesn't that use a lot of peanuts?" She cocks her head. "I thought you had an allergy to those."

"I leave 'em out when I cook, usually. I've managed ta make a full meal with 'em without killing myself."

"Excellent. Next time, you can cook."

"Excellent. Next time I will." I glanced out the window as she served us and realized that the sun was just beginning to set. We arrived at dusk. "Did I lose uh day?"

"Possibly." she sat down and began eating. "It's Saturday evening. I had planned to test your tolerance for heat then go to bed early. If you're up to it."

"I'm up ta whatever you wanna do. I just don't like not seeing you. Be uh whole lot more fun if I got ta watch you c-uh-orgasm."

She looked thoughtful. "Perhaps next time. But you have got to learn not to speak out of turn."

"Yes, Ma’am." I nodded, just talking about it made the scalds on my feet and back itch. "I have a question." She looked at me blankly and I hoped that was permission to ask. "What do you get out of this?"

"You derive pleasure out of receiving pain," She shrugged which was the most casual movement I had ever seen her make, "I derive it from causing pain."

"Ok, see, I get that part – I like giving a good spanking on occasion instead of gettin' one. But you ain't let me touch you at all. I..." I hesitated, "I just wanna be sure you gettin' off in all of this. That it ain't just me."

"Sweet." Her voice was flat. "When I desire your assistance, I will notify you of what and how. Until that time, you will have to enjoy what I allow you."

I looked at my bowl. "Yes, Ma’am."

"What about you?" she asked. "Are you getting what you want out of this?"

"So far." I smiled. I was getting more than I dreamed of.

"I was thinking – if this weekend works out for both of us – that we could do this once a month."

"I'd rather do it once uh week."

She paused; clearly, I caught her off guard. "How often did your last mistress abuse you?"

I shrugged. "We lived together for a while. It was whenever he thought I deserved it."

"You must have needed quite a bit of punishing."

"Actually, it was a reward."

"Really. You keep saying ‘he’. You had a Master not a Mistress?” I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Of all the stupid slips. “If you’ve actually gay…”

“No!” I exclaimed. “I mean, I like guys, too. I’m…” I was sort of embarrassed. “I’m bi. Really.” She gave me that arched look. “Yeah, my last Dom was uh guy. I’ve never had a Mistress. I’ve just always really wanted one.”

“Are you still seeing him?”

“No.” I shrugged. “You said you ain’t want me seein’ anybody else. I figured that included him.”

“Tell me about him."

I thought for a minute. "There's not much I can tell. See I can't tell you who it was 'cause, even now, it would cause all kinda hell for him back home."

"Your little Reedville has a BDSM community?"

"Not that we ever found but we ain't go looking for it. Anybody ever find out about us, it'd be the biggest stir in uh hundred years."

"Because of your family or his?"

"Both," I chuckled. "We had to keep the whole thing real damn quiet."

"I suspect my father is aware of my preferences but has been circumspect about it."

"Hell of uh dude, your Dad."

"Thank you." She put her napkin on the table. "Clean the kitchen then join me in the living room. Bring your mask."

Break time over, I guess, I thought. "Yes, Ma’am." I cleared the table and washed everything. Not a chore I was used to – if the dishwasher broke, Mom took us out to dinner. But I managed to scrub everything eventually. I retrieved my mask from the bathroom and used the facility one more time. I had a hunch I wouldn't get another break ‘til morning.

Ame was lounging in the hot tub when I came in. I knelt in front of her, presuming that was my standard starting position.

"Well, you may have too much mouth, but you take physical training quite quickly." I thought that was meant as a compliment. "You even seemed to adjust to being naked fairly easily."

"I had NiS in high school."

"I did not say you could respond to that." I winced and she sighed deeply. "I suppose I'll forgive that outburst; in the future, if you have your mask in hand or physically on, you are only allowed to speak when specifically addressed. Do you understand, yes or no?"

"Yes, Ma’am."

"Good." She stood up, dripping wet and naked. Glorious. I know my jaw dropped and dick jumped.

"Jelly." I said, hoping that was still ok.

She smiled thinly, "Not the response I was expecting but flattering none-the-less. Anything else you'd like to say before I seal you in?"

I run through all the things I'd like to say looking at her tiny, delicate body, "Nothing you wouldn't consider vulgar, Ma’am. Permission to speak freely?"

"Denied. You will have to learn not to be vulgar." She stepped out of the tub and dripped over to me, taking the mask from my limp hand. The last thing I saw was her nearly hairless pussy as it circled behind me and her round, fat ass following it. She led me into the bedroom, I thought, and lay me down on the floor. She tied me eagle spread.

Something cold touched me. Ice or maybe ice-cold metal. Whatever it was, it made the spot where it touched numb after a few minutes. That made me a bit nervous. I had done a lot of nearly permanent damage to myself after numbing stuff. The worst was when I used a numbing cream on my nipples and attached a pair of serrated clips. I didn't feel them sawing into my skin until I took them off and saw the blood. Peter suspended me for two months after that shit.

She said she'd honor no scars. I trusted her. I took a deep breath and tried to stop twitching. She stopped touching me after a while and I heard the shower run a few minutes later.

I lay on the floor and waited for whatever came next. It came slowly. The cold spots began to warm, then, become hot. There were two on my chest – likely those damn nipples – one on my side, a couple on my legs and one on my balls. I groaned which didn't help. I twitched but the spots neither relieved nor moved. I knew my groaning got louder. Fuck, I thought, this hurts. Seriously. She's really, really hurting me. I pictured that body again. That delicate creature was causing me severe pain. I whimpered and tried not to actually say anything. The pain seemed to get worse. I couldn't tell if it was because of how long it was continuing or because something was actively increasing it.

I felt like I was going crazy. Like if something didn't release the pressure soon I was gonna scream. Or explode. Or both.

It just kept hurting. Oh God, I thought, I can't hold it. Oh god. Oh god, I kept thinking over and over. Don't. Don't. Don't. I was being burned alive outside in and inside out. I grit my teeth but groaned loudly anyway. It hurt so much and yet, I felt alive.

When I came, I came hard again. It felt like dying. Like all the darkness inside me had been purged and the light of heaven filled my soul. Retribution and redemption all in the same instant. Like I wasn't a sick twisted little evil shit. Like I was right. Good. Fixed.

Peter 'fixed' me once. Peter once beat me so hard I was bruised for weeks. He made me feel like God might still love me. Only Peter. My Saint Peter.

I realized distantly that the pain had stopped and Ame was disconnecting something. "Oh, fuck," I whispered. "Wha'd you dotame?" I was babbling and realized that I was probably about to get scalded again but I didn't care. I wanted to hold her in my arms and tell her that I loved her. I wanted to kiss her and never let her go.

I woke in darkness, on the floor with a blanket over me. The mask was gone. Ame's arm hung over the edge of the bed, just within reach. I found the leash around my neck let me move next to the bed so that her fingers touched my cheek. I stole a kiss from those fingers. I briefly thought of all the things we hadn't discussed. Was she into water sports? Probably not. Would I ever get to fuck her? Shit, at this rate I'd probably never get to even eat her out right. Was I hooked for life? Was I the kind of sick shit that liked being chained to the floor like a dog?

I found myself smiling at that image and pulling the blanket over my shoulder. Alex the Dog. Woof.