“I didn’t enjoy it. I loved it.” The girl said loved with vehemence and passion, and for the first time since meeting Sheridan, The Mistress felt like she had could see the real Sheridan lurking under all that fear and shame. “I loved it. And I loved him.”
“You know our Kingsley lost his virginity at thirteen—tops. Older girl. That wicked Frenchman was a lady-killer from birth. He tells the story of his first time and he gets congratulated like he won the fucking lottery. A woman says she lost her virginity at a young age to an older guy and she gets thrown into therapy. Double standards can suck my cock. Don’t be ashamed that you liked it. You didn’t do anything wrong by saying yes, and you didn’t do anything wrong by liking it. Excuse me, by loving it. The fault, if there is any, is on Rex. Not you. He’ll answer to God for it. You can answer to me.”
At that Sheridan burst into laughter—real laughter, not the nervous kind.
“Thank you. I needed that.”
“You’re welcome. I don’t have a cock, by the way. Not a real one. I have a pretty impressive assortment of the artificial variety back at the club. I thought for our first session we’d stick to the basics.”
“The basics?”
The Mistress held up both hands and wiggled her fingers. Sheridan blushed.
“The basics. I get it.”
“Good girl. Now you say the guys you’ve been with since Rex tried everything. I assume you mean oral sex, digital stimulation, vaginal intercourse...”
Sheridan nodded, her face still a becoming shade of pale red.
“Did they try vibrators?”
“One did. But I couldn’t relax enough.”
“Can you have them on your own?”
“Sometimes, but only if I’m fantasizing about Rex and stuff we did. It’s just...depressing. I don’t even miss him. I just miss...it. Whatever it was.”
The Mistress sat back, threw her legs onto the settee and crossed her feet, clad in black and white Oxfords, at the ankles.
“I’m depressed just hearing about it. We’ve got to get you back in business. Take your clothes off.”
Sheridan froze.
The Mistress grinned.
“I love that reaction. The ‘now the shit gets real’ reaction. I think it’s my favorite part of the job. That and the money. And the clothes. And all the rich and famous people who are afraid of me because I know their kinks. Okay, I have a lot of favorite parts of this job. Anyway, I just noticed that you still have your clothes on, and I’m fairly certain I gave you an order.”
The Mistress paused and tapped her temple.
“Yes, I’ve reviewed the tapes. It was an order.”
Still Sheridan didn’t move to obey. The Mistress narrowed her eyes at the girl.
“What did you like so much about what Rex did to you?” The Mistress asked. “Tell me in one sentence.”
“He...” Sheridan began. “He was older and in charge and made me feel like I was the center of the universe.”
“Look up.” The Mistress pointed at the roof and Sheridan turned her face to the glass roof. “The night is watching us. Sheridan. You are the center of the universe. And if the center of the universe doesn’t take her clothes off in the next ten seconds, the center of the universe is going to get turned over my knee and spanked like the stubborn, recalcitrant child she is.”
That did it. Sheridan stood up and unzipped the back of her dress and shimmied out of it. It landed like a pool of quicksilver at her feet. She had come prepared, The Mistress noted with pleasure—no panties on and no bra. Only her strappy shoes remained on her feet. She bent to remove them.
“No. Leave the shoes on. Stand there for one hot minute. I’m taking a mental picture.”
Sheridan froze in a perfect pose of modest beauty. With her head turned slightly to the side and her hands lightly clasped in front of her and her face a mask of elegant composure, the thin girl with small breasts transformed into an ancient Greek statue of Aphrodite turned to flesh. The Mistress smiled at her statue. All she’d had to do was order the girl to pose for a photograph and Sheridan turned into the professional actress who commanded six figures per episode.
“You’re stunning. You know that, don’t you?” The Mistress asked.
Sheridan merely shrugged her shoulders.
“I suppose you hear it all the time from fans and casting agents. But I’m not a fan. I’m not a director. I don’t have to suck up to you to get you to spread for me. You’re paying me for the privilege of spreading for me. You paid up front. I have no reason to lie. Say ‘thank you for telling me I’m stunning, Mistress.’”
“Thank you for telling me I’m stunning, Mistress.”
“Good. There’s hope for you yet. Now sit.” The Mistress moved her legs from the settee to the floor and pointed to the crimson cushions. Sheridan sat back down as she kept her legs tightly pressed together. “Stay there.”
The Mistress pulled out her tie and unknotted it.
“I’m going to blindfold you. It’ll help you relax and focus on what you’re feeling. Do you have a safe word?”
“Kingsley told me I should pick one. It’s ‘McCarthy’s.’”
“Like the single malt whiskey?”
Sheridan smiled. “You know your alcohol.”
“Of course I do. I’m Catholic. You like whiskey?”
“Hate it. But Rex liked it. Straight.”
“He sounds Catholic.”
The smile on Sheridan’s face broadened and The Mistress nearly blinked at the brightness. The Mistress could only imagine how this girl could light up a stage.
“I can still remember what his mouth tasted like. I never wanted to drink the stuff. I was happy tasting it on him.”
“McCarthy’s it is then. I want you to be able to tell me yes, no, stop, go while we’re playing. You’ll say ‘McCarthy’s’ if and—only if—you want to stop completely, take off the blindfold and end the scene. I’ll be touching your body and every woman is different. You can give me directions if I’m doing something that doesn’t work for me. You can give me encouragement if I’m doing something that does. Understand?”
“I understand.”
The Mistress glared at the girl so hard she winced.
“I mean, yes, Mistress.”
“Better. Hold still.” The Mistress yanked her silk tie off and pulled it taut. Careful of Sheridan’s perfectly coiffed hair, The Mistress brought the tie over her head, placed it on Sheridan’s blinking eyes and knotted it at the nape of her neck. “Too tight?”
“No...it’s fine. Thank you, Mistress.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I didn’t expect...” Sheridan began and paused.
“What didn’t you expect?”
“I didn’t think you’d be nice. I don’t think nice when I hear the word Dominatrix.”
“I’m nice to all my clients even when I’m beating the shit out of them. Nice means treating someone how they want to be treated. Tonight you want to be treated with gentleness. Next time maybe you want to be treated with pain. Sounds nice, right?”
Sheridan smiled. “I might not say no.”
“Good. Now lie down on your back and breathe. Breathe slowly and deeply. I’m going to put my hands on your legs, but that’s it. I won’t touch any other part of you without warning you first.”
Sheridan obeyed but not without tentativeness. Every line of her body vibrated with fear as she rolled onto her back and slowly stretched out her legs. The Mistress decided to let the fear work in her favor. Adrenaline rushes made for beautiful orgasms. Adrenaline... The Mistress had a thought.
“Sheridan...” The Mistress placed her hands on Sheridan’s thighs right above her knees. “Were you scared when you were with Rex?”
“No. Yes.” She laughed as The Mistress began to rub her thighs. “Scared isn’t the right word. But he was older than me. I was...intimidated maybe. Rex was definitely intimidating. Strong, silent type. Sexy. Smart. I could never quite believe it was happening even when he was inside me.”
“With your most recent boyfriend, did you ever feel scared or intimidated?”
Sheridan shook her head as The Mistress made slow, easy strokes with her hand up and down the girl’s thin legs.
“Not a bit. Brett was so nice, goofy, a very sweet guy. Like a big kid.”
“And you let him fuck you?” The Mistress asked with mock horror.
“I feel like I should apologize to you, Mistress.”
“No. No need,” she sighed. “The damage is already done. No wonder you couldn’t orgasm. Must have been like letting your brother try to fuck you. No sexual tension equals no orgasm especially for a woman like you.”
“A woman like me? What am I?”
“You’re a sub. No doubt in my mind.”
The Mistress continued to caress Sheridan’s bare legs. The girl wasn’t more than five feet tall, but half of that was leg.
“Like a submissive?”
“Exactly like that. You need to be dominated to feel sexual, yes? Intimidated? Overpowered? Maybe even a little scared?”
“Yes...yes, definitely. That’s exactly it. Nothing Brett did made me feel anything. I thought I loved him because I liked him so much.”
“Liking can get in the way of lusting a lot of the times. Some of my best orgasms have come from men I wanted to beat into unconsciousness. You know, after they were done fucking me.”
“It would be nice to be with someone who makes me feel like it’s, I don’t know...”
“Like it’s an honor to be with him? Like you’re his personal sexual property? Like you exist just to spread your legs for him whenever he orders you to?”
“That, Mistress.”
“I know the feeling. Trust me.”
“I kind of...I sort of feel that with you. Kingsley said you weren’t taking any new clients. Too busy. Too in demand. But you made an exception for me.”
“Of course I did. I saw you.”
Sheridan blushed. The Mistress slid her hands between Sheridan’s thighs and gently pressed them apart. They opened easily for her. Good. Tension helped with an orgasm. Terror didn’t.
“I’ve topped royalty,” The Mistress said, wanting to remind her new client just how lucky she was to be in her capable hands. “Real royalty with bodyguards standing right outside the door the entire time. Rock stars. Politicians. Millionaires. Billionaires. I could name them and you’d faint from shock that they were in the scene. That’s how important I am. That’s how busy I am. But Kingsley told me about you. I watched an interview you did. The reporter asked you if you had a boyfriend. I’ve never seen a sadder, faker smile in my life, Little Miss.”
“I like that,” Sheridan confessed as The Mistress caressed the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.
“Like that I’ve topped rich and famous people? Richer and more famous than you? Or liked that I watched your interview?”
Sheridan shook her head.
“I liked that you called me Little Miss.”
Once again, The Mistress was seized with a nearly unconquerable urge to kiss the girl. But she restrained herself. Just barely.
“Glad you like it. That’s what I’ll call you from now on—my Little Miss. Now my Little Miss needs to take a deep breath. I’m going to start touching more of you—arms, stomach, hips and breasts, in that order.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Sheridan nodded her nervous little head and The Mistress moved in closer between Sheridan’s open thighs.
First, as promised, she started with Sheridan’s arms at the wrists and stroked upward to her shoulders with dancing fingertips. Delicate shivers passed through Sheridan’s body at the lightness of the touch.