“Sometimes,” Nora said, pressing close to Michael’s body, “he doesn’t even look at me. He keeps reading. He orders me to do it just to humiliate me. Jealous?”
Once again Michael closed his eyes. He tried to imagine what it would be like to belong to someone, to be owned like Nora was. What would it be like to give his body to someone so completely that they could order him out of nowhere to strip naked. God, it would be so embarrassing, so humiliating, as Nora said. Degrading, almost.
“Very jealous,” he admitted and Nora laughed.
“Do you ever imagine what your priest and I do when we’re alone together?” she asked as she made a circuit around him. Her stiletto heels clicked against the stone floors.
A blush flared up on Michael’s cheeks.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, swallowing hard.
“Tell me what you fantasize,” Nora said and he heard the hard edge of the order in her voice.
His fantasies about Nora and Father S were beyond humiliating. Sometimes he saw them at church and Nora would be trying to annoy Father S. Nora would put her innocent face on and say something like, “Father Stearns, about St. Elmo…” And Father S would barely glance at her and say, “Patron saint of sailors. What about him, Eleanor?” And Nora would say, “Was he, by any chance, ticklish?” And Michael would hide in the shadows and imagine his handsome priest bending Nora over the back of a pew and brutally f**king her. That was just the PG stuff he thought of. When masturbating it got really intense—threesomes, foursomes, orgies, vicious beatings… The stuff that went on in his head freaked even him out sometimes.
“I…” he began and swallowed. His fingers clenched in nervousness.
“You can tell me,” she said, her voice coming from behind him. “Trust me, I’ve heard worse. And even if I haven’t, I’ve thought worse. Just say it.”
Michael took a deep breath. He hated disappointing Nora. He wanted to say it. Wanted to say everything to her. But the words turned to glue and stuck in his throat.
“I can’t,” he said, his voice flush with anguish.
Nora grazed his face with the back of her hand again.
“It’s okay, Angel. We’ll get there. If you’re going to be a sub you have to learn how to talk about what you want and need. This,” she said, indicating the room and then pointing at herself, “is a basic fantasy. Dominant woman, gorgeous dungeon full of S&M toys, big bed. Generic even. Start talking and tell me what you fantasize about in your most private moments, and we can change it. Do you want to see me in black instead of red? In lace instead of leather? Would you prefer scening outside at night? Do you have fantasies that take place in the kitchen? The shower?”
Michael shifted nervously from foot to foot.
“Maybe,” he admitted.
“You do know what you want matters, don’t you?”
Michael rubbed at his arms. “I guess, ma’am. Trying.”
“I’ll teach you that this summer. You’ve got a lot to learn. Let’s get your lessons started.”
Nora strolled off toward a table covered in a black cloth. Once she reached it she turned around and crooked her finger at him again, beckoning him to her side.
Naked but for his blush, Michael came to stand beside Nora. With a flourish she pulled the black cloth off the table.
“Wow,” Michael said at the sight before him.
“Thank you. I packed a few of my favorites. A few are Griffin’s he’s letting us borrow. Griffin’s very fond of you. You’ve made quite an impression on him.”
Michael’s blush deepened at the insinuating tone in Nora’s voice. Did she know he’d watched her and Griffin having sex in the dining room? Did she somehow intuit that ever since seeing Nora on her knees in front of Griffin, he’d been having trouble not imagining himself in that same position?
“He’s really cool” was all Michael could get out before clamping his lips shut. Nora only eyed him before turning her gaze back to the table.
“Do you know what these are, Angel?”
“Some of them…but not all, ma’am.”
“Let me introduce you then. This,” she said as she lifted the first object, “is a basic flogger. Six-inch handle, eighteen-inch suede thongs. Feel?”
Michael reached out and ran his fingers over the flogger. The suede felt so soft to the touch.
“Used lightly,” Nora explained, “it will feeling like a tickling sort of massage. Used with full force, however, the impact on your back will knock the breath out of you. Tricky thing. I could beat you with this until you cried and within the hour it would appear no one had laid a finger on you.”
She laid the flogger back on the table.
“And this…you know what this is, don’t you?” She lifted another object, this one similar to the flogger but more sinister looking.
“A cat-o’-nine-tails, ma’am,” Michael answered.
“Very good. This is a lighter variation of the kind used to discipline sailors in the British Navy. Even this lighter version could break your skin if I wanted it to. But if I use it on you correctly, you’ll have the loveliest freckle bruises on you tomorrow courtesy of these little knots on the ends of the cords. Here,” she said, handing it to him.
Michael accepted it with almost trembling hands. He touched the knots, hefted its deceptively light weight.
“You know, there was an even smaller version of this that was used on the cabin boys aboard ship,” Nora said with laughter in her voice. “Guess what it was called?”
Once again Michael closed his eyes. He tried to imagine what it would be like to belong to someone, to be owned like Nora was. What would it be like to give his body to someone so completely that they could order him out of nowhere to strip naked. God, it would be so embarrassing, so humiliating, as Nora said. Degrading, almost.
“Very jealous,” he admitted and Nora laughed.
“Do you ever imagine what your priest and I do when we’re alone together?” she asked as she made a circuit around him. Her stiletto heels clicked against the stone floors.
A blush flared up on Michael’s cheeks.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, swallowing hard.
“Tell me what you fantasize,” Nora said and he heard the hard edge of the order in her voice.
His fantasies about Nora and Father S were beyond humiliating. Sometimes he saw them at church and Nora would be trying to annoy Father S. Nora would put her innocent face on and say something like, “Father Stearns, about St. Elmo…” And Father S would barely glance at her and say, “Patron saint of sailors. What about him, Eleanor?” And Nora would say, “Was he, by any chance, ticklish?” And Michael would hide in the shadows and imagine his handsome priest bending Nora over the back of a pew and brutally f**king her. That was just the PG stuff he thought of. When masturbating it got really intense—threesomes, foursomes, orgies, vicious beatings… The stuff that went on in his head freaked even him out sometimes.
“I…” he began and swallowed. His fingers clenched in nervousness.
“You can tell me,” she said, her voice coming from behind him. “Trust me, I’ve heard worse. And even if I haven’t, I’ve thought worse. Just say it.”
Michael took a deep breath. He hated disappointing Nora. He wanted to say it. Wanted to say everything to her. But the words turned to glue and stuck in his throat.
“I can’t,” he said, his voice flush with anguish.
Nora grazed his face with the back of her hand again.
“It’s okay, Angel. We’ll get there. If you’re going to be a sub you have to learn how to talk about what you want and need. This,” she said, indicating the room and then pointing at herself, “is a basic fantasy. Dominant woman, gorgeous dungeon full of S&M toys, big bed. Generic even. Start talking and tell me what you fantasize about in your most private moments, and we can change it. Do you want to see me in black instead of red? In lace instead of leather? Would you prefer scening outside at night? Do you have fantasies that take place in the kitchen? The shower?”
Michael shifted nervously from foot to foot.
“Maybe,” he admitted.
“You do know what you want matters, don’t you?”
Michael rubbed at his arms. “I guess, ma’am. Trying.”
“I’ll teach you that this summer. You’ve got a lot to learn. Let’s get your lessons started.”
Nora strolled off toward a table covered in a black cloth. Once she reached it she turned around and crooked her finger at him again, beckoning him to her side.
Naked but for his blush, Michael came to stand beside Nora. With a flourish she pulled the black cloth off the table.
“Wow,” Michael said at the sight before him.
“Thank you. I packed a few of my favorites. A few are Griffin’s he’s letting us borrow. Griffin’s very fond of you. You’ve made quite an impression on him.”
Michael’s blush deepened at the insinuating tone in Nora’s voice. Did she know he’d watched her and Griffin having sex in the dining room? Did she somehow intuit that ever since seeing Nora on her knees in front of Griffin, he’d been having trouble not imagining himself in that same position?
“He’s really cool” was all Michael could get out before clamping his lips shut. Nora only eyed him before turning her gaze back to the table.
“Do you know what these are, Angel?”
“Some of them…but not all, ma’am.”
“Let me introduce you then. This,” she said as she lifted the first object, “is a basic flogger. Six-inch handle, eighteen-inch suede thongs. Feel?”
Michael reached out and ran his fingers over the flogger. The suede felt so soft to the touch.
“Used lightly,” Nora explained, “it will feeling like a tickling sort of massage. Used with full force, however, the impact on your back will knock the breath out of you. Tricky thing. I could beat you with this until you cried and within the hour it would appear no one had laid a finger on you.”
She laid the flogger back on the table.
“And this…you know what this is, don’t you?” She lifted another object, this one similar to the flogger but more sinister looking.
“A cat-o’-nine-tails, ma’am,” Michael answered.
“Very good. This is a lighter variation of the kind used to discipline sailors in the British Navy. Even this lighter version could break your skin if I wanted it to. But if I use it on you correctly, you’ll have the loveliest freckle bruises on you tomorrow courtesy of these little knots on the ends of the cords. Here,” she said, handing it to him.
Michael accepted it with almost trembling hands. He touched the knots, hefted its deceptively light weight.
“You know, there was an even smaller version of this that was used on the cabin boys aboard ship,” Nora said with laughter in her voice. “Guess what it was called?”
