Wicked Intentions

[Veroe]

((Closed for Myself and MsMuse))​

IC: Jacob McKellen

Tonight she'd let him fuck her first then tell him why after. Hmm...good line. She'd have to remember it later...

…."Pick a number between one and one hundred. Take your time deciding." She gave him a sly wink, "I'll need it to decide which whip I want to use on you."

"A whip?"

"I might be having you pick out how many minutes we play in my bed tonight or I might be forcing you to choose how many kisses you get from this nasty bitch," She lifted one of her heavier single tail whips for him to see...​

~​

Jacob sat in his seat in Professor Collins' lit class sighing. The words from the review copy of the book his mother had tossed into her trash can he'd read again last night was still seared into his mind. He'd rescued it when he'd taken out the trash the last time he'd stayed home. Since then he'd read page after page every night. This had been his third time through it.

The words in that book haunted him. Sunk in deep into his soul. Not to mention how it had fueled the fantasies he'd jerked off to

~​

...He had chosen to split the difference of course. Fifty. It was perfect. He had chosen neither how long they'd play in her bed or how many strikes he'd get from her nasty bitch of a whip. No, it was fifty minutes. how long he'd have to wait until she let him inside of her. Time enough for her to introduce him properly to the nasty bitch in her hand. She set her stopwatch to fifty and hung it on the wall directly in front of his face. That way he'd watch as those fifty minutes shrink second by second, strike by strike...

..."Green," She asked at the seventy-fifth kiss from her nasty bitch. "I won't think any less of you if you say yellow or red, you know."

"Still green..." His breathing had turned ragged and he sagged in his restraints leaning his weight against the firm stability of the st. Andrew's cross. His back was a red masterpiece of art from shoulder down to buttocks and thighs. She took the time to admire the craftsmanship of her work. Her nasty bitch was a master painter. "I just need a minute, if it pleases you, mistress?"

"You do, very much," She said softly leaning in and placing the smallest of kisses to the tip of his ear, "I'm getting wet for you, lover. Tell me how much longer you have to wait for it."

His eyes lifted to the stopwatch hoping beyond hope to see nothing but zeroes...​

~​

Class was beginning and Professor Collins came into the classroom. "Today we're going to do something different, class."

"Something special," He continued, "A good friend of mine has recently written a novel and is getting it published. I've asked her to come to answer your questions about it."

A beautiful woman stepped inside the classroom as Professor Collins went on. "It's an erotic romance novel about BDSM, soon to be on bookshelves or on amazon shopping lists. I introduce you to Amanda Burke."

Jacob's head shot up eyes wide. 'Amanda Burke'? That was the name of the author of the book that kept him up at night turning page after page.

He stared at her a deer in the headlights, and it was probably his imagination but it seemed to him that she was staring straight back at him.

~​

…"If you fuck as well as you kiss," She smiled as she lifted one of his wrists to the iron railing of her headboard. The bondage cuffs hooked to the eyebolts there. She took his other wrist saying, "Then I'm in for a very fun night, tonight."

"I always aim to please, mistress." He gripped the iron railing in his strong hands.

"I think I'll be the judge of that." She lifted up and lowered down onto him, sinking onto his cock with a deep heartfelt sound of pure undiluted pleasure. She smiled leaning forward so her breasts hung teasingly close to his lips and tongue, but not quite close enough to reach. She gripped the headboard , her hands bookending his.

"Let the fun begin," She grinned giving him a teasing wink, "Pick a number between one and one hundred."

He gasped as muscles began squeeze around him, "Uh....umm...one hundred..."

"One hundred, really...brave choice," She said reaching down to set the stopwatch. It hung between her breasts against the leather of the corset. "That's how many minutes you'll have before you have permission to cum."

With that her hips began to roll dragging her clitoris over his pelvic bone to ratchet up the pleasure he gave her with every motion. Then after a few minutes of that she really got going...​

~​

Jacob swallowed as words from the book, this woman's words, flitted through his mind.

 

[MsMuse]

Campus Lecture

IC:


Scene: College Campus, Literature - Professor Collins

Professor Collins was one of many in the lifestyle, professional and brilliant and when asked, had readily agreed to assign her book into the curriculum for this semester. Even allowing her to come to his class as a guest speaker. This was one of many devised ways into the inner circles of one young man's life. First, the bait and temptation.

She kept her chestnut hair down, in rings to her bottom, caught at the nape of her neck in a little simple knot. Her smile came easily, bright and she spoke with a soft but authorative voice. Amanda Burke, affectionately called Mandy by family, and Mistress by her most intimate of friends, standing just under five foot seven with the softest doe brown eyes. She wore a jacket over a nice loose blouse and a long button skirt that split to the knee-high boots she wore beneath. She looked professional, almost marmish in her get up as she stood before the class of forty-seven students.

"You don't look like a dominatrix?" A girl in front raised her pen clutching hand to make an obvious point.

"No, I don't." The smile tipped up a bit with that, "Never judge a book.."

"By it's cover.." The class finished.

"Exactly." She leans into the podium a bit, "Stereo types are for movies and narrow minds. A big man does not make him a dominant man, any more than a bitchy woman is somehow magically a domme. A submissive, either man or woman, does not make them a door mat. It takes time to figure these things out, and even more time to do it properly. Yes?" Eyes turn to the next raised hand, another young woman.

"Your book says that you started at a young age, how young and was this forced on you?"

"Good questions." Her eyes scan the room and settle on the golden boy once more. He is watching and actually paying attention, seemingly interested where the majority of the room is either horrified, thinking dirty thoughts or utterly bored with this discussion. "I was just out of high school when I found the society. A little bit of a lost rebel without a clue, I was accepted into the lifestyle training academy, at eighteen. Now, however the laws and times have changed, and we no longer take any one under twenty-one. No exceptions. And to answer your last, I was never forced into anything. BDSM is not a acronym for rape, it is an understanding, a lifestyle between like-minded individuals who make their partnership what each other needs." A haunty lift of chin came up, not in dare or defiance but with confidence and determined eyes, meeting every pair staring back at her. A few sighs could be heard and muttering about the age requirement, but somehow, she has doubts that most of this room wouldn't ever be that strong to let go.

"How does one go about getting into this lifestyle academy?" A voice in the back asked.

"You don't. It was closed ten years ago. Now we train one on one. The Masters and Mistresses who have an opening, get to choose every three months from a select group of candidates presented." These questions were veering quickly away from all book content that the students had been assigned to read. Their curiosity was far more personal. The bravery of the college student. A time for wild times, experiments and boldly doing stupid not quite ever forgotten for the rest of their lives. Almost missed this, but not quite.

"Do you have a, partner?" Hesitant over the right term as there are many used in her book. This came from a male voice and their eyes met and held. She said nothing, merely looking the young man over as he sat up taller in his seat, kept eye contact as if to prove a point.

"No, I do not." Turning back over the class, eyes met all those staring back, she could see it in their eyes, the millions of questions they all had and most too awkward or embarrassed to ask? Again, it isn't wise to judge a book by its cover, but their eyes were screaming quite loudly their thoughts.

“Next question? Anyone?” Amanda’s eyes scan the room, waiting for the next brave soul to ask those churning curiosities burning brightly behind intelligent eyes.

 

[Veroe]

IC: Jacob McKellen

Jacob swallowed as words from the book, this woman's words, flitted through his mind.

She was beautiful. With rich brunette curls precariously constrained in a knot at the back of her neck. She wasn't tall but neither was she petite, she looked so normal in a jacket and loose blouse, and a skirt that buttoned up over knee high leather boots, but something clashed here. She didn't look stern or icy or ball-busting. She looked like someone's next door neighbor getting back home from grocery shopping. She looked....normal.

This was a famous professional dominatrix?

One of his classmates raised her hand and asked just that question. And Ms. Burke's eyes lit up with humor and a grin formed on her face like the raising of the sun at dawn. "No, I don't. Never judge a book..."

"...By it's cover.." He looked around as his classmates finished the cliched catechism.

"Exactly," She said leaning forward over the podium and Jacob decided he liked her eyes sparkling with humor and mischief as she continued, "Stereo types are for movies and narrow minds. A big man does not make him a dominant man, any more than a bitchy woman is somehow magically a domme. A submissive, either man or woman, does not make them a door mat. It takes time to figure these things out, and even more time to do it properly. Yes?"

She turned her head away from him to look at another of the girls in class that had raised her hand for another question. "Your book says that you started at a young age, how young and was this forced on you?"

"Good questions," She smiled eyes settling somehow back to him, for some reason. They were staring into eachother's eyes as she gave her answer, but Jacob didn't hear any of it all. He was completely lost in her eyes.

Someone asked the next question, "Do you have a, partner?"

He looked back at the guy who asked that question. It had sounded entirely too hopeful. It surprised him how much that bothered him.

He turned back to find she was looking at him again. Why? Unless...she knew, somehow. Somehow she knew he'd read her book, loved her book, was entranced by her book.

In reply to the guy's question she shook her head, "No I do not."

She didn't? He looked up at her in surprise at that. Jake would have expected guys beating down her door for the chance to be her....partner.

"Next question," She asked scanning the assembled classroom, "Anyone?"

His hand raised sheepishly in the air. "Uh...the stuff in your book...did you make it up, or did you...did you actually do them?"

He was blushing when his hand lowered back to his desk and everyone was looking at him now. How lame did that just sound?

 

[MsMuse]

Amanda

"Uh...the stuff in your book...did you make it up, or did you...did you actually do them?"

Now she seemingly has his interest, those eyes firmly on her even despite what appeared to be an uncomfortable blush. Jacob had read her book, or had he? He did not seem the type who would appreciate humiliation, gorgeous as could be though. His momma made him well, too bad his mother was a judgmental bitch. He looks far better in person than he had in those pictures on his social media pages, and not so baby faced. Close, but not nearly so young. Could be the lighting in the room as well, still she holds his gaze as she turns her body towards him, her target. If all goes her way, her next plaything.


She wants more from him than a blanket question, testing his knowledge of her book seemed far more entertaining than simply answering him with an article filler. “Can you be more specific, mister?” Waiting until he gave his name, “Thank you, Jacob. Which encounter are you curious about?” She put him on the spot, with a playful smile and friendly body language, those eyes of hers kept him pinned across the room.

 

[Veroe]

IC: Jacob McKellen

~

...Being a professional Dominatrix she knew the old adage that said it takes all kinds was nothing but the gospel truth. In her profession she topped rock stars, movie stars, politicians, millionaires and billionaires and gajillionaires as well as lawyers, doctors, and an odd professor or two. There was nothing more egalitarian, if one had the money to pay her she'd beat the ever living shit out of you and leave you making an appointment for next time.

But once in a blue moon she gave out freebies. Little Ms. was one. What? She was going to beat her best friend in all the world to the point of tears and then charge money for it? She should be the one paying for that unique privilege...

~​

"Next question," She asked scanning the assembled classroom, "Anyone?"

His hand raised sheepishly in the air. "Uh...the stuff in your book...did you make it up, or did you...did you actually do them?"

He was blushing when his hand lowered back to his desk and everyone was looking at him now. How lame did that just sound?

“Can you be more specific," She asked at that, "Mister..."

~

...Little Ms. had two fetishes that she enjoyed playing up. First, when she was fourteen Little Ms. had lost her virginity to one of her father's business partners. It was the start of a four year illicit affair that greatly imprinted Little Ms. impressions of sex and sexuality. One such example was she was turned on not when her best friend turned domme dressed in the usual dominatrix attire. When she dressed as her father's business partner whenever they had one of their secret illicit trysts. Which meant rather than the stereotypical leather corset and skirt a men's suit with fedora smelling of a man's cologne and lit cigarette between her lips.

The second fetish was only ever playing with friends, such as herself. Poor thing hated playing with strangers. She was the top of the friends playlist for Little Ms.

….With one hand she held Little Ms. down on the bed by the throat while sampling the sensitive tips of her small but perfect breasts. Her other hand trailed leisurely down her flat stomach to her already swollen clitoris.

"You started without me, Little Ms." She met her eyes as two fingers pushed their way inside.

"I guess I'm in trouble, Mistress," She smiled impishly.

She took a drag from the cigarette and blew smoke into her face, "And do you want to be in trouble, Little Ms.?"

She nodded her head the impish smile widening with anticipation, need even. "Yes, Mistress."

She smiled the same impish smile back at her, "Good girl."....

~​

“Can you be more specific," She asked at that, "Mister..."

"Uh...McKellen...Uh Jake...Jacob McKellen...," God he was stumbling over himself here. This was a total disaster. Somebody just shoot him now. "...Uh...my name's, Jacob...Uh...Ma'am."

“Thank you, Jacob." The dominatrix, the writer of his wet dreams, Amanda Burke, said with a playful witty air, "Which encounter are you curious about?”

"Uhh…" He stammered. Oh god, he was on the spot now. He was conscious of all the eyes of other students in the classroom on him, but he couldn't look away. She was looking into his eyes and he couldn't turn his eyes away from hers.

"Well...uh...that first scene in the book," He swallowed bashfully but continued on, "...your main character beats her best friend pretty damned hard, and then after they laugh about it all like it was nothing....people don't actually act that way...do they? I mean, that had to be fiction, right?"

~

…"Hands here, Little Ms." She ordered as the submissive girl came up on her knees placing her hands on the black metal headboard. "And no matter what happens don't let go."

Then she found her clitoris again and kneaded it. After a few moments Little Ms. was panting and pushing her hips back into her hand.

Good. now the fun can begin. She reached over lifting her favorite riding crop. She pulled away from her and gave her several heartbeats before she brought the end of the crop crashing down hard and swift in between her shoulder blades. Another fell on her lower back above the tramp stamp there. She hit even harder on her bottom and hardest still on the back of her thighs leaving her panting and buzzing from the fissures of pain. She pulled back landing softer blows making her strain and beg for the hard blows. She obliged of course landing five more strikes harder and harder and harder. Little Ms. cried out with each blow. It hurt of course. She didn't love it unless it hurt like a bitch.

She laid the crop down finding her clitoris again. She kissed the welts her crop left on her back. Her fingers were plying a magic that made Little Ms. whimper and press and grind her hips into her hand again. "I can use my flogger on you or one of the vibrators...like the big one you loved so much last time. But that's only if you think you deserve an orgasm, Little Ms. Do you deserve an orgasm? Or are you still in so much trouble?"

She bit her lip whimpering from the two clashing desires within her at that moment, "I'm still in trouble, mistress."

She smiled blowing smoke from the cigarette, "Thatta girl." She picked up the flogger and began to choose where on Little Ms.'s backside it would land first...

...Several hours later she laid the rattan cane beside the crop and flogger and paddle she had used. Little Miss was laid out on the bed a weeping mess. They weren't tears of pain or any sort of anguish. These were tears of cleansing. Her hands never left the metal railing as she had been ordered to. Not even when the rattan cane made her collapse on the bed beneath her.

She used the vibrator she loved last time to bring Little Ms. to the edge three or four times already. It was time to give her that orgasm she's more than earned.

She smiled pressing the vibrator's lubed head to her slit, "You're out of trouble now little Ms. Now its time for what you deserve." She began to slowly push in the huge vibrator inside of her wet sex...

~​

"Well...uh...that first scene in the book," He swallowed bashfully but continued on, "...your main character beats her best friend pretty damned hard, and then after they laugh about it all like it was nothing....people don't actually act that way...do they? I mean, that had to be fiction, right?"

 

[MsMuse]

Amanda

“Such a good girl.” Croons in soft tones, hands unwinding the relaxing grip from the bars, helping her lower her arms to the bedding. The softest of touch traces her contours as leather gloves are removed and bare hands meet Little Ms.’s quivering body. Working quickly to get a warm soft towel from nearby and wipe down forehead, cheeks, and chin. Lingering a moment to press a soft kiss to those trembling lips as the girl floats, trying to reconnect to the here and now, back down to earth. A tender smile split’s across Amanda’s face, watching those lovely eyes slowly come back to reality. Fedora set aside, cigarette out and toys all set aside, the Mistress can now shower her girl with praise.


Here again with Jacob, that question seems to have lingered a few minutes, when in reality it had been only seconds. Those memories still fresh today as that night she spent with Little Ms., and her softening smile reflects her thoughts and memories of the encounter he asks of. “No, Jacob. It was not fictional at all.” She can see skepticism in those curious eyes, doubt and .. something else? “Everyone is different, different tastes, pains, pleasures. Triggers that create a utopia of sorts. Little Ms. enjoys quite a bit of pain with her pleasure.”


“You have pleased your Mistress, sweet girl.” Her soft tone unrelenting in praise and affection, mindful of the red welts and light shades of bruising that will be full bloom by tomorrow. She moves Little Ms. just a bit, stretching her out across the clean sheets, settling to her side, brushing the long locks back from blissful features. Contentment lifting a smile as fingers work into the cream jar, lightly massaging it into the tender marks so beautifully decorating Little Ms. from shoulder to just above the bend of knees. Lips brushing a particularly angry welt across one buttock. she cleans the girl, drying her and then generously applying the medicines to ease the tenderness, to speed her healing, reassuring herself too that she did not hurt Little Ms. nor mar such perfection with a careless strike. Bringing her back to a happy, healthy state of mind, a zen of sorts by speaking her pleasure with the girl as she comes free of her sub-space. Meeting eye to eye, waiting for signs of needs not yet met and finding only the brightest of smiles. Spent as she is, she reaches for Amanda’s hand and pulls her closer.


Back with Jacob and the class, their eyes meet and hold again, coming from her reverie. “Believe it or not, masochism is quite common. Some men and women have higher tolerances for pain and so it takes a bit more for them to release.” Unsure if that answered Jacob’s question, she held his gaze and waited for him to speak further, if he had anything more to say or ask.


“I will miss you, Mistress.” There is a soft forlorn tone in the girl’s voice, sitting to the bedside as a soft robe is wrapped around her. Large teary eyes lift to her Mistress, her best friend. She is emotional, worn and sated but feeling vulnerable and a little scared of losing this. “Nick isn’t exactly a prude, but he firmly stands his ground about never striking a woman, even if I want it.” A finger comes to brush away the tear running down soft cheek, a reassuring smile meeting those sad eyes.

“Didn’t he say that you could continue to come see me when you needed to?” Though soft, her tone firm with Little Ms., not letting her lose herself to imagined troubles that have yet to even present themselves. Even as the girl nodded in affirmation, “Don’t worry so much. When you find that love, the one you can not possibly live without, you and he will make it work. If I was ever that lucky to find Mr. Right, you think I would miss out on a lifetime of him because I couldn’t paddle him?” That got her a smile, a much brighter smile than before. “Drink.” Instructed simply, handing Little Ms. a bottle of water, “Now tell me if anything feels wrong, hurting beyond normal, is your pain past your threshold of normal..”



The memory fades out of mind, making herself cease the thoughts taking her attentions away from the class. It had been so much more than a session with Little Ms., that girl was and still is her best friend, someone she loves dearly and always will. Writing that for her book was put in there for a purpose, people need to understand, should feel that there is genuine care and love in much of this lifestyle, that it is not a simple gang rape, or porno movie or even brutality excuse. It is always safe and consensual, or it is not done. Simple as that.



She could picture Jacob in little to nothing, could see the spark in his gaze as he stared at her, almost unblinking. This seemed to be going well for her, at least it appeared so. He seemed genuinely interested in her lifestyle, every bit of his body language suggested he was. How much, or how far was he willing to go with it? Unknown. There were many unknowns here but she was a patient woman and she would wait and coax until she had Mr. McKellen in her world, at her feet, doing anything she asked of him. A bit cocky of her, but she was more than willing to play unfairly as possible.



“Do you find it hard to believe, Jacob?” She came strolling over, closer to him as their eyes held and kept so. Closing that gap between them, wanting him to feel her presence just a little better than from podium to desk. He couldn’t truly appreciate her, or her attention from such a distance. She found that it was always better to get within touching distance of another to get a better feel of each other. Close enough he could pick up her scent, close enough she could really see the color of his eyes and a very clear view of his facial expressions. Her fingertips brushed the wood curved edge of the small table attached to his seat.



“It is a matter, for some, of merely working up to it until it becomes something larger. Your entire body is covered in skin, receptors for hundreds of thousands of nerve endings. About a thousand every square inch of your body.” She paused there and let it sink in, “Now Imagine them all awake at the same time. Receptors that send and receive and share sensations and information, all of those bursting now with a little sting. Would waken them up, perk up that skin into goose bumps, heighten the sensation even more, then a light touch. Something soft, sensual. Imagine how that would feel, to wake up with a sharp little zap, nothing too painful, and then feel the softest satin caress. What do you imagine that would feel like?” She lingers there, watching him, until relenting to give the young man some breathing space. Time was coming close to the end of class anyway, best to let him think on what she has said.

 

[Veroe]

IC: Jacob McKellen

"Well...uh...that first scene in the book," He swallowed bashfully but continued on, "...your main character beats her best friend pretty damned hard, and then after they laugh about it all like it was nothing....people don't actually act that way...do they? I mean, that had to be fiction, right?"

“No, Jacob. It was not fictional at all.” She answered matter-of-factly.

The other students gave a wave of skeptical looks around him, but Jacob believed her. Something in that casual matter-of-fact delivery of those words convinced her. The confident self-assured way she held his gaze. There was truth behind those eyes, and so much more. Behind e felt he was standing at the entrance of deep and dark labyrinth filled with minotaurs.

"Everyone is different, different tastes, pains, pleasures. Triggers that create a utopia of sorts." She explained, "Little Ms. enjoys quite a bit of pain with her pleasure.”

Jacob eyes widened stammering, "But...uh...how can anyone...I mean...Uhhh..."

“Do you find it hard to believe, Jacob?" She continued stepping away from the podium a strutting between the rows of desks towards him.

He sat up straighter as she came up to his desk, "Uhh…"

“It is a matter, for some, of merely working up to it until it becomes something larger." Her fingers traced the woodgrain of his desk making his imagination wonder how it would feel caressing the contours of his skin. She smelled good. What was that floral fragrance? Lavender? Orchids? Jasmine? "Your entire body is covered in skin, receptors for hundreds of thousands of nerve endings. About a thousand every square inch of your body.”

She paused a moment as her words added fuel to the fire of imagination. The words, her words in all the scenes of the books flitted through his mind, but now he was the man in them and she was the dominatrix swinging the whip.

“Now Imagine them all awake at the same time. Receptors that send and receive and share sensations and information, all of those bursting now with a little sting. Would waken them up, perk up that skin into goose bumps, heighten the sensation even more, then a light touch." She added hypnotically, "Something soft, sensual. Imagine how that would feel, to wake up with a sharp little zap, nothing too painful, and then feel the softest satin caress."

He swallowed as the words, her words, wrapped him further and further up in the fantasy. He couldn't tear his eyes away from hers. He was lost in the labyrinth and the minotaurs were upon him.

"What do you imagine that would feel like?” She asked softly, slowly, sensually.

He could imagine it. That and he could imagine so much more. His cock had stiffened into an uncomfortable iron rod in the pants. Her words, her, she had done this to him, and part of him did not ever want her to stop.

She turned and he exhaled suddenly rescued from the labyrinth. He panted deep breaths like he'd been holding his breath all this time. His cock throbbed begging for attention. He shifted hoping no one would notice it.

 

[MsMuse]

She lingered near enough to hear him gasp for breath, turning the steel of her gaze back to him once more as she spoke, “It takes discipline, training and honest communication to be safe, consensual and understand the protocols in this lifestyle. It requires a license in this state as well, if you work with the public, much like a masseuse.” She was losing the class, though they were polite enough to not make any complaints or appear openly bored, they were getting antsy to move on for the day. It did not seem this class was as receptive to her world as she would have hoped, and perhaps it was merely that Jacob had her distracted. Only one thing out of this lecture needed to happen, capture Mr. McKellen’s curiosity. As her bold gaze raked him over, sitting there and trying so hard to appear relaxed, he looked to be interested in something.

Another young woman raised her hand to ask, “Will there be a sequel, more tales of your .. practices?” Hunting for the right term often left most of us guessing, it’s such a taboo thing to discuss. Things outside of the normal missionary married sex, granted it was far more open today than it was ten years ago. Progress is lovely in some instances. There were so many questions in their eyes staring back at her, that she almost felt a bit of pity for them. It is hard to fathom something like her world as a need, emotional or physical. Not quite sure she did well on this whole discussion, not nearly enough was covered to begin to help these kids understand her lifestyle. A smile lift for Collins as she turned to take her place back into the center of the room, feeling all eyes on her as she went.

“Perhaps there will be another book, there is much I have experienced, have witnessed and I have many friends who enjoy sharing their stories as well. So, who knows, and perhaps something else will come along to occupy my time.” Amanda’s eyes once more went to Jacob, her haunty stare pinning him to his seat, enjoying that display of hard fit form not so hidden under his clothes. He appeared to be trying to coil into himself, was it embarrassment? Did she make him uncomfortable with singling him out? Not that she cared so much as she did not frighten him away from her goal. It was hard not to stare at him, he was quite good looking and his mouth, well it was sinful the things rolling through her mind every time she caught a glance of it.

“Well class, that will be all for this evening. Do join me in showing our appreciation to Miss Burke for her indulgences.” Professor Collins moved in to shake her hand, muttering a soft “Thank you.” The students gave a small clap, moving to gather their books as the professor announced their next book they would be reading. She moved to stand nearer to the door, shaking hands and signing a few books handed over to her, all young women of course. The men did not seem interested or did not want to seem interested in what was said or read. To each their own of course.

“Hey, McKellen? Isn’t your birthday party set up at The Shack this weekend?” The young man standing just behind Jacob made sure his voice carried enough to draw a few quick glances from fellow students. It also caught Amanda’s attention, her eyes swiveling too to see Jacob’s response to that. If it’s true? She could feel that heat begin to build inside, that tickle of pleasure. Her playground was hers, and all she had to do was ask to hostess. Her breath still in her chest, eyes burning holes into Jacob, every cell of her brain and body was giddy with hope and excitement! Come on, say yes!

 

[Veroe]

IC: Jacob McKellen

She turned and he exhaled suddenly rescued from the labyrinth. He panted deep breaths like he'd been holding his breath all this time. His cock throbbed begging for attention. He shifted hoping no one would notice it.

“It takes discipline, training and honest communication to be safe, consensual and understand the protocols in this lifestyle." She said with a penetrating gaze that he felt all the way down to his balls, "It requires a license in this state as well, if you work with the public, much like a masseuse.”

Did she know about the boner throbbing away in his pants? Did she know about her book in his backpack or the many many bookmarks he'd put in it for his favorite scenes in it? Did she know?

Thankfully someone else asked a question and diverted those deep enchanting eyes away from him as Ms. Burke answered it. He sat breathing deep lungful's of air trying to get that rebellious boner he was sporting back under control.

Finally the class ended and many of the girls swarmed Ms. Burke for autographs of their own copies. Thiers were retail copies with the cover art on it. His was a advance review copy where the cover was unadorned white with the book's title. Even though he'd dearly cherish getting her autograph he couldn't ask for it though. One look at the review copy of her book would raise too many rather awkward questions, not even counting all the bookmarked and highlighted sections inside of it.

So he did not join them for her autograph instead he sat in his desk hoping his hard-on would deflate so he didn't embarrass himself when he got up to walk out of the classroom. Unfortunately this allowed the university's resident asshole, Doug Stevenson to come up behind his desk and snidely declare. “Hey, McKellen? Isn’t your birthday party set up at The Shack this weekend?”

Shit! Doug, was just trying to cause some trouble for him. He was like a shark smelling blood in the water with Jacob, and his earlier awkwardness and embarrassment with speaking with Ms. Burke was that blood in the water.

Jake shook his head rising up from his desk. Happily his hard-on was not quite so apparent in his jeans-he hoped-and rounded on Doug. "Stop being full of shit, man. My mom would murder me if I did."

"What," Doug sneered, "You some kinda momma's boy."

He hung his head down and pinched the bridge of his nose. Why was he pushing him so much on this? "Nah, but every year for my birthday we go see a movie and eat at Giuseppe's on Thirteenth street and Grant. It's like a tradition for us. If I don't show up my mom would really be hurt by it."

Of course ever since going to college here Jacob had been trying to become an independent person outside his mother's control. So he'd spent the last two years trying to cut at least some of the apron strings loose from his mom. He'd had only limited success. Judith McKellen was a rather domineering and often smothering woman when it came to her son-a helicopter mom he believed the term was. The more he tried though the more his mom tried to entangle him again within her control via guilt trips and arranging things for him even without telling him ahead of time. She just did not want to let him go.

Maybe he should try cancelling his usual birthday celebrations with her? That would show her, right? He was going to be twenty-one years old next week and would be legal to drink and do anything he wanted, right? That made him a grown-up adult capable of making his own decisions in life, right?

On the other hand...cancelling his birthday with her for going someplace like the shack would hurt her feelings...

No, despite his growing frustration over her "Clinginess" he couldn't do that. She was still his mom, and he did love her.

"Come on man," Doug pressed, "You know you wanna...you wanna get your ass beaten like a dog and all that shit by a skank like her." He nodded his head to Ms. Burke.

"Take that back!" Without thinking he shoved Doug at that. Doug of course shoved back. Jacob backed into his desk. His backpack that had been sitting on it fell off. He hadn't closed his zipper yet so all his books and notebooks including her book slid out across the floor and directly in front of her.

 

[MsMuse]

Amanda

The commotion caught the attention of the last few people in the classroom, Professor Collins rushing over there, cursing under his breath as he put himself between Doug and Jacob, “ Gentlemen!” His face red, splotchy, but those brown eyes were riled, “That is enough! I suggest you get going Mr. Stevenson. Mr. McKellen, clean up your things and you too. Assault on either of your records will not lend aid in continuing your education here.” The warning was enough to get the men to back apart, both glaring at one another. What had been said between them was unheard across the way as the young women were busy still with their questioning. A few comments were made by the women present, one actually giggled as if the exchange was some how cute.

Amanda’s hand came up to silence the girls, her eyes on the mess scattered across the floor and near to her booted foot. “Excuse me Ladies, it was a pleasure to meet you.” She said her goodbye with those few words and moved around one, stooped down and lift a manuscript of her book from the floor. It took her completely by surprise, and before she could even think on her actions, she had it opened and was reading through the first few blank pages. “Mr. McKellen..” Of course, he had his mother’s copy of the book, where else would he have obtained it? Surprised it wasn’t burnt or shredded, it was very well-worn. Doug marched past, muttering some inane childish comment under his breath, completely ignored as her fingers flipped through the soft edged pages. There were bits and pieces of her dialogue with a client highlight in a faint yellow, so well worn that the once bright yellow was now faded.

How many times has he read this?

Her head lift to find him all but gawking at her, red faced, cramming things into his backpack and Professor Collins was nearby, held up by this altercation. “Mr. Collins, it is quite alright to head out for the evening, I will walk with Mr. McKellen.” Again they shook hands, the Professor lingering a little, slowly gathering his things and watching the door, suspecting that perhaps Mr. Stevenson would return to make a point? Highly Unlikely, Stevenson looked like a scholarship jock more than an entitled rich kid. Doubtful he could afford expulsion or worse.

“Are you sure, Ms. Burke, It isn’t any trouble to see you to your car.” Collins hung in the doorway as Jacob finished putting everything but her book into his backpack.

“Yes, quite alright. Mr. McKellen here is going to enlighten me to how he has this book in his possession as we walk to my car. Aren’t you, Jacob?”

Those large brown eyes turned onto the young man and fixed him with a stare he would have difficultly saying no to. She knew how he had it, not sure why he had it on him though and dying to know that answer, as much as wanting to know who high lighted the passages within it? Doubtful it was his prude of a ball-buster mother, Judith. Things were beginning to look a little less difficult, but again, he could be deceiving her too. How many read that Fifty Shades series, thought they knew the lifestyle and got into a huge clusterfuck of a situation? Far too many! Still, she watched him, waiting for him to answer and only after he agreed did she hand him back the book.

 

[Veroe]

IC: Jacob McKellen

"Take that back!" Without thinking he shoved Doug at that. Doug of course shoved back. Jacob backed into his desk. His backpack that had been sitting on it fell off. He hadn't closed his zipper yet so all his books and notebooks including her book slid out across the floor and directly in front of her.

“ Gentlemen!” Came Professor Collins' sonorous voice from behind him. He was red-faced and clearly outraged at their admittedly rather juvenile behavior. “That is enough! I suggest you get going Mr. Stevenson. Mr. McKellen, clean up your things and you too. Assault on either of your records will not lend aid in continuing your education here.”

"Sorry, Professor." Jacob replied bending down to reach for his backpack. Maybe if he acted cool he could snatch the book before Ms. Burke noticed it for what it was. Then she strolled over to it bent down to pick it up off the floor.

Oh, this was a nightmare. He saw her open the book to one of the bookmarked scenes and flip through the pages. Jacob knelt down staring at her as if he was watching a tornado bearing down upon his house.

“Mr. Collins, it is quite alright to head out for the evening," She said scanning what lines he'd highlighted-usually particularly witty lines of dialogue of her main character-though many were descriptions whose wording reached out from the page and grabbed his imagination. "I will walk with Mr. McKellen.”

Professor Collins asked if she was certain about that and she said, "Yes, quite alright. Mr. McKellen here is going to enlighten me to how he has this book in his possession as we walk to my car." She gave him a look and the playful woman was suddenly gone. Standing in her place was a different woman. A woman that would not, could not, ever be defied. "Aren't you, Jacob?"

"Uh...yes...I mean-yes..Ma'am." He swallowed past the intimidation suddenly coursing through him under that gaze.

She led him out of the classroom and down the hall. Jacob's eyes followed her every step. She was magnetic to him. He couldn't turn away from her. He felt she was pulling him in further and further to the point of no return like a planet that was being drawn too close to a black hole.

She had light brown hair that flowed down her back from the top of her head like a waterfall of hazelnut cream Jacob just wanted to dive into and bathe himself in. She was slender but held herself in a strong fashion. Her skirt hid an ass that swayed hypnotically with every step of her booted feet. Her breasts weren't large, but he could tell they were a decent handful, which was all any man could truly desire.

As they started down the stairwell Jacob noticed they were pretty much alone now. So taking a deep breath to steady his courage. "Ms. Burke...can I have that back now?"

"You see," He nodded at her response, "My mother is the literary critic for the Journal. That was the review copy your publisher sent to her for her to critique. A while back I went back home for a weekend...you know...to do laundry and stuff...well when I am home one of my chores is taking out the trash, and that's when I found your book in one of the waste baskets...It struck me as weird...you see my mom never throws out a book she reviews...I thought it was a mistake so I pulled it out of the trash, and I don't know I kinda opened it up and started to read it."

He looked down trying to quell a fresh surge of mortification before continuing, "To make a long explanation short. I didn't give it back to her. I kept it. As for why..." He blushed beet red. "...the reason for that shouldn't be too hard to imagine...right?"

 

[MsMuse]

Ms. Burke

So obedient, those few words and the way he spoke them, was stirring to say the least. Ten years difference, age naught but a number, that was one of many differences between them. He was nearly twice her size, thick muscles from playing hard. She could easily imagine how quickly he could lift her, how easily it would be and yet those few words he said, the tone in which spoken said a whole different story. He is a good boy, no doubt brow beaten by mommy dearest to be a good dutiful son. Does Judith know how well she has prepped her little boy to do exactly as Amanda wants him to do? Aware of his presence behind her, the heavy footsteps shortening to match her stride and even without looking she was sure that Jacob’s head was mostly down, looking at the ground. Her heels? Or even perhaps, her butt? Each quiet step following her faithfully without word, well mostly. He spoke up as they neared her car, trying to explain himself. Quite endearing and most beneficial, for her.

"You see," He nodded at her response, "My mother is the literary critic for the Journal. That was the review copy your publisher sent to her for her to critique. A while back I went back home for a weekend...you know...to do laundry and stuff...well when I am home one of my chores is taking out the trash, and that's when I found your book in one of the waste baskets...It struck me as weird...you see my mom never throws out a book she reviews...I thought it was a mistake so I pulled it out of the trash, and I don't know I kinda opened it up and started to read it."

A pair of brown eyes turn as she rounds the last step and rail, their eyes meeting briefly as he explains himself in a rush of words and a bright red blush. Hard to imagine the reason he kept her book? No, not really. For a young man his age, who has probably only experienced the basics of pawing at each other in tight stolen places for a quick rendezvous of hormonal release, her book had to be quite the pick-me-up in comparison. Had he only read it just once. The ear marks and highlights, the softening of the paper to almost fabric like texture, that told her so much more than his hastily spewed excuse. Her pulse thumped harder; it was a bit difficult to keep the excitement pouring from her veins from bleeding over onto their encounter. Maintaining self-control was a matter of pride for her and he was sorely testing her limits on containing herself.

"To make a long explanation short. I didn't give it back to her. I kept it. As for why..." He blushed beet red. "...the reason for that shouldn't be too hard to imagine...right?"

“Can’t imagine the purpose of giving the book back to her, not when you fished it from the receptacle, clear on her thoughts of my work, wasn’t she?” Holding his gaze a moment longer, she knew lingering in the stairwell was not a wise idea. Leave him guessing, wanting more. Yes? A smile lift, a flash of defiance in brown eyes leave him and turn towards the parking lot. “My car is not too far from here.” More to keep him from responding and making excuses for his mother’s actions. The article was quite clear on what Mrs. McKellen thought of her written word, and lifestyle. “Do you share her opinion?” A dumb question but she wanted him to say it out loud, even knowing the answer does not take from the experience of admission. Not a secret whisper in your head, or some hiding under the blankets late at night to read porn, but voicing it out loud, breathing life into those desires.. That is everything. She kept walking, letting him speak on the two things she had asked him, listening not to just his words, but the tone in which he spoke. His reasons for keeping it, not hard to imagine at all.

At her car she opened the door and tossed her things into the back seat. Like her car, it was a sleek black on black leather, tinted, five-speed and the first thing she had bought with the money she earned. It was sexy, in her opinion and suited her profession and the appearance she wished to portray to the world around her. Sexy and powerful. With book in hand, fingers fish into her dark hair, just behind her ear and pull forth a pen. His mother would get what is coming to her, spouting off ignorant assumptions and judgements, calling them all godless and disgusting perverts, to name just a few remarks that woman has thrown out there. Revenge will be the sweetest reward and her son… Eyes lift to find Jacob standing not far but not nearly close enough, her smile spreads with the taste of victory teasing her tongue, “Come here Jacob, I don’t bite.. hard.” A husky chuckle lifts, her eyes down on the book as she begins to write. She felt a little wicked, luring him to her web as it were, and yet justified in her course of action. She’s doing no harm, to Jacob at least. He is a consenting adult and he can make his own choices, delve into his own vices and she would gladly help him along that road.

Someone was shining a star down upon her head today, she had not counted on any part of her plan coming to fruition. Had only herself as a lure and a hope that Jacob would be drawn to her, at least. He seemed drawn but he was more into the idea of her lifestyle than she had dared hope for. When he stood nearer and their eyes did finally meet, her smile brightened, “Any time you want a new copy, let me know.” She handed him the book, now shut so that he could not see what it was she had scrawled onto the blank paper. “And Jacob, don’t let idiots bring you down to their level, you are only doing yourself a disservice there.” She kept his eyes, though he seemed to want to look anywhere but directly at her. “Look at me when I am speaking to you, unless told otherwise you should always meet a person eye to eye when speaking.” Her fingers caught his larger hand, slipping in palm to palm and gave a feminine handshake, which is more of a squeeze than anything. A shaped brow did arch high in question as their eyes met again, her smile warming her entire face. “That’s better, I approve.” Warmth of tone and pleasure, she peeled from his grasp and into her car, her mind already on the details of his birthday and where he was going. Perhaps he would take up her invitation?

Jacob, if you’re ready to stop looking through other’s eyes and leap into the rabbit hole, call me.
Ms. Burke
803-5553

 

[Veroe]

IC: Jacob McKellen

She was without a doubt simply the sexiest, most beautiful woman Jacob had ever seen. She was maybe ten years older than him. That age difference was not a downside to him. If anything it was a benefit. He could tell by the way she held herself that she was confident from tons of experience. In other words unlike most girls his age Amanda Burke knew what she wanted and exactly how to get it. Whatever it was. That was the sexiest thing about her to Jacob.

"You see," He nodded at her response, "My mother is the literary critic for the Journal. That was the review copy your publisher sent to her for her to critique. A while back I went back home for a weekend...you know...to do laundry and stuff...well when I am home one of my chores is taking out the trash, and that's when I found your book in one of the waste baskets...It struck me as weird...you see my mom never throws out a book she reviews...I thought it was a mistake so I pulled it out of the trash, and I don't know I kinda opened it up and started to read it."

They had reached the bottom of the steps and she stopped at the door out to the parking lot outside. She turned those deep dark sexy eyes on him again. She listened intently as he went on.

He looked down trying to quell a fresh surge of mortification before continuing, "To make a long explanation short. I didn't give it back to her. I kept it. As for why..." He blushed beet red. "...the reason for that shouldn't be too hard to imagine...right?"

“Can’t imagine the purpose of giving the book back to her, not when you fished it from the receptacle," She said as if to herself.

"Ma'am," He asked unsure how to respond to that.

There was a small lift of the corner of her lip-a beginning of a smile perhaps as she looked at him adding, "Clear on her thoughts of my work, wasn’t she?”

He blinked at that. He had always thought his mom had simply lost the book by accident. Throwing it into the garbage seemed so...so...so wrong...to him. Or so it would appear. But he knew his mom loved her job, loved books, honestly he couldn't even imagine her purposely throwing a book away. He was about to tell her that when-

"My car is not too far from here." She said turning to stride out the door and out into the parking lot. They threaded through the rows of parked automobiles heading for a sleek black sportscar. Then she asked him, "Do you share her opinion?"

"Why wouldn't I," He shook his head as they stopped at her car, "I mean you're a fantastic writer. You always put me right there in the scene in the shoes of your characters, and they're great characters. People I could share a beer with...you know when I'm legal in a week. You keep it rocket hot without going into stupid porno bullshit territory too."

He raised his hand plaintively to her as she opened her car door and threw her things inside the passenger seat. "I know me finding it in the garbage looks bad, but my mom loves good books. I'm sure she saw how brilliant your book is, Ma'am. Just you read her review. I'm sure it will be glowing with praise for you and your work."

She then reached up to her hair and pulled out an inkpen and opened his copy of her book. She scribbled something on the first page before lifting those sinful chocolate eyes back up to him. "Come here Jacob. I don't bite...hard." That with a chuckle that suggested so many naughty things.

He came up to her as she held the book for him, "Thank you, Ms. Burke." When he took it his eyes met hers and he was lost within them.

The smile that had been teased a moment before reemerged on her face and he wanted to bask in its warmth. God, she was beautiful.

"Anytime you need a new copy. let me know." She told him and he looked down to the book in his hands. What had she written inside it? Was it just her autograph? It seemed to be more than just her name from how long it took her to finish scribbling whatever message to him was in there. He ached to find out what that message was.

“Look at me when I am speaking to you," Came her voice sharp and cutting and his eyes instantly shot back up to meet hers again, "Unless told otherwise you should always meet a person eye to eye when speaking.”

"Uh..yes Ma'am," He said truly chastised. She had lifted her other hand taking his by the fingers and gave him something of a soft and gentle handshake. "That’s better, I approve."

She got into her car and the engine came to life. She left with him standing there waving goodbye to her like a dumbass.

When she was gone he hurriedly opened the book to read the message to him she wrote on the first page.

Jacob, if you’re ready to stop looking through other’s eyes and leap into the rabbit hole, call me.
Ms. Burke
803-5553

He froze. If he was ready...call her. Did that mean...did Amanda Burke...did she want him...and her...to be...like her main characters in her book? He looked up after her not knowing how to respond to that.

---------------------------------X

The Next Day

Jacob had a scholarship at the university for the school's swim team, and it paid for tuition and books without having to turn to his mother for help, but it didn't pay for living expenses though. So he had a part time job at a nearby supermarket for food and other things-again so he didn't have to rely on his mom's aid with money, or the friends she's made within academia that she could pull strings with.

She didn't understand why he refused her help in this, but if he ever wanted to make his own way in the world independent from his mother's help he had to draw a hard line he could not cross no matter how much he hated the job or the fact that his boss was a total asshole.

It was in the middle of his shift in the market and he was bagging the groceries for their customers, but his mind wasn't really on what he was doing. Instead he was churning over the words she'd written.

Jacob, if you’re ready to stop looking through other’s eyes and leap into the rabbit hole, call me.
Ms. Burke
803-5553

Another customer had come up to the checkout aisle and he robotically began putting her groceries into the shopping bags. Then she spoke up and his eyes shot up to look at the customer. Amanda Burke, the Amanda Burke, was shopping at his work.

"Uh...hi..." He said smiling sheepishly to her. Her words streaking naked through his mind. "...small world isn't it?"

 

[MsMuse]

Grocer

One last glance out the wide mirror as she turned at the end towards city street, he watched her car drive off. He watched her drive away, and now those seeds were planted. Would he cultivate or would he need further incentive? Not one to let high risk rolls win without some sort of counterweight to bring it more favorable into her world, she would help him help himself with cultivating those very seeds he has yet to even read. Smile curving her full lips, she pulls into traffic and hit the call button on the dash screen. “Call Martin.” A sultry voice answers the command and dials her publicist. She had arrangements to make and information needing gathered, and Martin did all those things for her and so much more. He was high on the hog, as her daddy would’ve put it, in the money she made him. Martin was always her go-to guy, even before he began to work with her on her book.

It is obvious that Jacob doesn’t know what his mother wrote about the book in that scathing review. Most likely his mother had no idea just how often Jacob had read that same book, making notations… possibly jerking off to it? The thought of it? Her? Sitting at a red light, thankfully, when those waves of heat flushed her body, tightened her nipples and made her body ache just thinking about that young hard bodied man jerking off with thoughts of her in mind. Erotic site to behold, no doubt about it. Something she would have to instruct him to do, if.. No, no. Correction! When he finally gives in to those urges lingering behind those eyes of his. If mother has no notion of what Jacob is doing, that is also better for her. Means Jacob might be striding to take on life on his own terms, not letting mommy dearest rule him. Also means he has no idea what that uptight bitch wrote. Revealing such information though? No, that doesn’t seem smart either, he might sense the malice behind Amanda’s motives. And she firmly believes in revenge is a dish best served cold.

--------------------- Next Day ---------------------

She strolled slow through the isles, enjoying the stares she garnered, both negative and absolutely adoring in their positive smiling faces. Her hair was loose and rippling down over shoulders, back and hanging in ringlets just to the curve of her ass, an ass encased in tight leather pants that left little of her shape to the imagination. A corset hugged her tiny waist, pushed up her hand-full breasts and made the contrast of her white poet’s shirt stick out almost as much as her cleavage was. Her stilettos make an audible click -tap on the floor each small strolling step she took. Her lips were smiling a ruby shade as brown eyes danced, meeting each and every pair that look her way with a bold come-hither gaze. Confident, controlled and a bit much for grocery shopping, but it was a clear statement none the less. The smell of leather, aroused her, as did the snug fit of it against her skin and the sound it made as she walked, bent, and stretched made her feel a little decadent. Much like sexy lingerie, leather had it’s thrills too.

He didn’t notice her as he packaged her food into small paper bags, per her request. Plastic is bad for the environment, weak as well and it made him fetch the bags from below the register’s counter top too. Bonus to watch him bend over, hunt through and straighten back up. Broad back, strong judging by the sculpt under his work polo. Now she was wondering what he looked like in a little diving speedo, and while imagining such, his eyes lift to find her staring at him. Her chuckle matched her mood, a little husky and wanton, warm, “Yes, it seems to be shrinking by the day, doesn’t it?” Her stare fixed to him, even when the cashier rattled off the amount owed. Her card slid in, eyes leaving Jacob to input her pin code and gather her receipt. “I trust you’ll be a dear and help me with my groceries, won’t you Jacob?” Pushing cart forward, she strolled closer still as she spoke to him in that tone of hers she uses when she wants her way.. Which, is really all the damned time.

 

[Veroe]

IC: Jacob McKellen

"Uh...hi..." He said smiling sheepishly to her. Her words streaking naked through his mind. "...small world isn't it?"

She met his eyes with an amused chuckle, a chuckle of someone with sin and mischief in mind. “Yes, it seems to be shrinking by the day, doesn’t it?"

"Yes, Ma'am," He agreed with a sheepish smile and then he noticed what she was wearing. "Oh god-"

She was wearing a frilly pristine white shirt under what could only be called a solid black leather corset. It lifted and showcased the pleasant handful of bosom in a completely eye-capturing way. He didn't think anyone wore something like that out and about in the world. Corsets were things for dungeons and wet dreams.

He was staring at it-well her breasts being barely contained by the corset to be accurate. He couldn't help it, and he couldn't pull his eyes away from them either.

“I trust you’ll be a dear and help me with my groceries, won’t you Jacob?” She said pushing the cart up to him in a tone of voice that somehow wasn't overbearing or bitchy. It was too playful, like she was the cat and he was the mouse in her sights, yet it still left no room for resistance to her will from him. Not that resistance was anywhere on his mind at the moment.

"Uh...Of course Ma'am. That's...uh...that's the job..." He said chuckling like a fool as if what he said was remotely funny.

She then pushed the cart out of the aisle and he followed, and he gawked at the pants she was wearing. Shiny black leather pants so tight they looked as if they'd been painted over her butt, and what an amazing butt it was. In between dominatrixing and writing did she do squats every minute of every day?

He was getting a boner and his work khakis were doing nothing to hide it from anyone bothering to look. Oh god! Jacob was staring again. He couldn't help it. He was literally looking at the most erotic woman in the world.

He needed something to distract himself from ogling her.

As they walked out to her car and she opened the trunk for the groceries he glimpsed inside at what she had bought. It was a bunch of cheesy party supplies. Themed paper plates, cup, napkins, balloons...etc. He looked up at her. "Planning a birthday party, Ma'am?" He started putting the paper grocery bags into the trunk for her, "You know my birthday is next week..."

What was that? Why would she even care when his own birthday was? Real smooth, dumbass. At this point he'd need an emergency ward to remove the foot he was shoving in his mouth.

"Ma'am," He asked after a moment to collect himself while he was putting more of her groceries into the trunk. "What you wrote in my copy of your book...did you mean that?"

 

[MsMuse]

“That’s right.” She turned the full force of her pleasant smile on him, beaming as she spoke, “And you’re going to be, twenty-one, if I heard correctly, yes?” She didn’t really give him time to answer, shifting her stance closer to the rear fender, leaning back into it as he placed her bags within. Silent followed, watching him lift, grab, arrange and pick up the next. Bending, lifting, his form was quite delicious to watch such fluid motion this damn close. He would be divine naked. Her inner musings were turning her dark brown eyes even darker, her smile twisting in a manner that tattled a bit on her thoughts.. if he chose to look and see that wicked gleam in her features, devouring him where he stood. Eyes that landed on the god awful trousers he wore to work today. Was that … A devilish smile lift, eyes finding his once more as he finished speaking.

“Of course, I did. Why wouldn’t I? I wrote it in there, did I not?” A rhetorical, her chuckle cutting off her words. “Once that birthday comes and goes, you’re prime age for acceptance into the Shack’s inner circles. You’ll get to experience things you’ve only read of.” She paused then, frowning a moment and of course all for show for his benefit, “Did I misread what I saw, what you said and how you spoke of the lifestyle, my book? Are you not interested in my life, in the lifestyle?” She let it hang there, shifting to press her hip to the car, leaning in to meet his eye and not letting him escape the grasp her gaze had on him the moment he finally relented, looking back at her. “With the markings in the book, high lighted quotes, questions, and the tone of your voice when speaking of these things, I presumed you were interested.”

 

[Veroe]

IC: Jacob McKellen

As they walked out to her car and she opened the trunk for the groceries he glimpsed inside at what she had bought. It was a bunch of cheesy party supplies. Themed paper plates, cup, napkins, balloons...etc. He looked up at her. "Planning a birthday party, Ma'am?" He started putting the paper grocery bags into the trunk for her, "You know my birthday is next week..."

What was that? Why would she even care when his own birthday was? Real smooth, dumbass. At this point he'd need an emergency ward to remove the foot he was shoving into his mouth.

“That’s right.” She turned the full force of her pleasant smile on him, beaming as she spoke, “And you’re going to be, twenty-one, if I heard correctly, yes?”

He lifted another bag filled with a gallon of milk and a two liter of cherry soda and placed it into the trunk of her black sportscar. When he raised up for the next bag he stepped back in shock. Amanda had stepped up to the fender of the car. She was so close he could smell the perfume she used. It was sweet vanilla with wicked spicy accents.

What was that smile on her face indicative of? He wanted to ask her, but something stilled it on his tongue.

"Ma'am," He asked after a moment to collect himself while he was putting more of her groceries into the trunk. "What you wrote in my copy of your book...did you mean that?"

“Of course, I did. Why wouldn’t I? I wrote it in there, did I not?” She asserted with a soft enticing chuckle at the end.

He stared at her wonderingly. She was serious? Him and her? Together? As what? Man and Mistress? Like the main characters in her book were? That prospect was appealing, and greatly arousing, and utterly terrifying to Jacob. Why was that? He loved her book, but that was a comfortable fantasy...actually making it a reality...?

He didn't know how to respond to that at all.

“Once that birthday comes and goes, you’re prime age for acceptance into the Shack’s inner circles. You’ll get to experience things you’ve only read of." Amanda paused then before mentioning with what looked like a contemplative frown on her face, “Did I misread what I saw, what you said and how you spoke of the lifestyle, my book?"

He shook his head immediately in answer to that question, "No Ma'am, you didn't."

Wait. What did he just admit to her to?

She did not relent. "Are you not interested in my life, in the lifestyle?"

He shook his head trying to get his balance mentally again. Somehow she'd metaphorically swept his feet out from under him with just a few probing questions.

How did she do that?

Shifting to press her hip to the car, leaning in to meet his eye and not letting him escape the grasp her gaze had on him the moment he finally relented, looking back at her. “With the markings in the book, high lighted quotes, questions, and the tone of your voice when speaking of these things, I presumed you were interested.”

He swallowed. Yes. He was interested, but it was complicated. He was resigned to ever only reading it and daydreaming about what could have been as jacked off.

He couldn't tell her that of course. He didn't want to sound like a total loser to her. So rather than the complicated one he gave her the easy answer.

"I can't," He told her shaking his head, "My mom would have a total cow. Hell, she'd have a whole herd of cows if I did do it...with you...I mean ever since my dad died over in Iraq she's gotten some weird...almost...puritanical beliefs about sex and stuff."

 

[MsMuse]

She kept close, leaning into his space as he spoke, blushed and stumbled through his excuses. Had he any notion of her intentions, she could have felt he was merely making excuses, but this? This really did stun her, she was so certain that she had him, that he was willing to come into her life without a backward thought. And.. she was wrong! Who in the world discussed their sex life with their parents? That was just a bit on the kinkier than normal kink side of things. Her emotions and thoughts play across her facial expression as she stood still, brown eyes locked on his face, stunned by what he had just said. She let him see the confusion and the doubt and then her resolve to let it be.

“I see.” NO! No she didn’t! That was the largest load of bullshit she has ever heard. What a weak ass excuse. She had to think and think quickly, time was running out and Jacob was looking to slip through her fingers. “I am sorry to hear that, Jacob. I did not realize you discussed your sexual experiences with your mother.” She reach out to pat his hand and censure in her tone, holding his just a moment longer as she spoke, “I can see why you wouldn’t want to do anything other than that married missionary sex.. now.” Pulling the cart from her car, she waited until he was clear before shutting the trunk. She gave him a bland smile, clearly seeming to dismiss him from that part of her life. Still her mind was working double time, trying to figure out just what it was she could say or do that would bring him into her circle. In a parking lot, there isn’t a damned thing she could do here! He had the upper hand, though he didn’t know that.

“A shame, really. I had my heart set on getting to know you.” She steps aside as he took hold of the cart, “Thank you for helping me with my groceries, Jacob.” Slipping him a twenty into his hand and holding for a long moment, until his eyes met hers fully. “Don’t worry about all that, I respect a man who knows his own mind and sticks to his decisions.” She stepped further back to let him make his way, giving him room to move when he should choose to get back to work. “Should come by the Shack on Saturday at least, and celebrate your birthday Shack Style.” A flirty little grin lift as she slipped into her car, starting the engine. “Coming by?” She wouldn’t let him get away without at least telling her whether he would come or not.

 

[Veroe]

IC: Jacob McKellen

"I can't," He told her shaking his head, "My mom would have a total cow. Hell, she'd have a whole herd of cows if I did do it...with you...I mean ever since my dad died over in Iraq she's gotten some weird...almost...puritanical beliefs about sex and stuff."

She looked so surprised at that. Why? If he was going to start a relationship with anyone. It was rather a simple thing that seemed to baffle him she'd have trouble not understanding. Of course he'd tell his mom about his new girlfriend.

"I see," She said rather stonily, “I am sorry to hear that, Jacob. I did not realize you discussed your sexual experiences with your mother.”

"What?" He stammered.

'Sexual experiences'? Whoa! She wanted him just for...'sexual experiences' with him? Whoa! Him? With her? Just having sex...together? It was startling, and exhilarating, and disappointing to him all at the same time.

His brain stuttered over the implications of what she just said as she continued, "I can see why you wouldn’t want to do anything other than that married missionary sex.. now.”

"What?" He stammered again.

She put the empty cart into his hands. He stood there brain sputtering stupidly as she climbed into her car. He reflexively stepped out of the way from behind the car. From the drivers seat she told him, “A shame, really. I had my heart set on getting to know you.”

"G-getting to know me," He repeated confused. Wasn't that what they were doing?

“Thank you for helping me with my groceries, Jacob.” She continued reaching out and putting a folded twenty dollar bill into his hand, “Don’t worry about all that, I respect a man who knows his own mind and sticks to his decisions.”

He looked down at the money in his hand and then back up to her. "What's going on, Ma'am?"

"“Should come by the Shack on Saturday at least, and celebrate your birthday Shack Style.” A flirty little grin lift as she slipped into her car, starting the engine. “Coming by?”

Then the hurricane known as Amanda Burke blew out of the parking lot and out of Jacob's life for good. He was left with a folded up twenty dollar bill and a phone number in his copy of her book, and an invitation to go to her club. Well...that and wondering what the hell just happened?

-------------------X

TWO DAYS LATER

IC: Jean-Paul Benoit

The door to Amanda Burke's home opened and his wife walked in shoving little newborn Lucy into her godmother's arms. His wife Clara wrapped her arms around Amanda's shoulders hugging her tight as the big bad dominatrix held her goddaughter in her arms like Little Lucy was made of the finest crystal and would shatter at the slightest misstep she'd make. Clara kissed her best friend and Mistress on the cheek as Jean-Paul followed them inside and crossed over to her kitchen. The grocery bags in his arms set down on her kitchen counter.

His wife, Clara and Mandy were catching up and cooing over their daughter reaching a hand up to grab that fascinating lock of chestnut hair dangling down from Lucy's godmother's head.

He cleared his throat reminding Maitresse Mandy of their arrangement. If Clara was to step into her domain, the dungeon of her club, Amanda Burke must step into his domain and be his sous chef for one meal before every session as the maitresse to his wife.

She washed up as he began pulling out their groceries. "Tonight we shall make salmon papillote with rice and aromatics." He laid out her cutting board setting a red onion, a variety of herbs and a lemon. "Start julienning the aromatics, se vous plait."

He set the oven to preheating. He saw in his peripheral vision her picking up the titanium set of knives he'd gotten her last Christmas as a gift signifying the graduation of her skills in the kitchen. When they'd first started their arrangement three years ago Maitresse Mandy could barely boil water, required a box of band-aids at hand when cutting vegetables, and would feint if asked to handle any form of raw meat. However she never gave up, and absorbed every lesson he gave her. Now Jean-Paul would not be embarrassed to have her work a shift in the kitchen of his bistro someday. And he recently been noting the glimmer of pride in her eye as his wife ate their food accompanied with the most coveted accolade a chef could desire. The pronouncement of "Mmmmm...so good..." from a beloved diner.

Oh yes, Matresse Mandy, had the cooking bug now, and Jean-Paul had to school himself not to show how proud of his erstwhile apprentice he was.

He got back up to begin dealing with salmon fillets. To her he asked, "So your wicked plan for justice on this McKellen woman...Have you met this boy you aim to seduce, yet?"