MASTERED: (The Novel) (20 page)

Missy sat down in front of a dark
screen in the middle of a dark room. What am I doing here? In answer, she
searched high and low for the 'on' button. Already exasperated, she hit it
inadvertently. Something somewhere whirred to life. Lights flashed. Music
played. Eventually, the screen lit up and silence prevailed once again.

 
Now
what?

Hesitating only momentarily, Missy
placed her faltering fingers on the keyboard. Seemingly of their own volition,
they tapped out a single word.

Submissive...

Chapter 66

Ethan Montgomery was even more
handsome than Missy remembered.

A textbook six foot two with eyes of
blue, he came dressed in, what was for him 'casual' attire. Nubby beige linen
pants, fitted cream colored silk tee, and a perfectly cut black sports jacket.
Armani
, if Missy knew her designers,
which she did. He wore his Armani open, casual-like.

Almost before the door swung open,
it was obvious that his penchant for cologne was not diminished. Likewise, his
propensity towards opulent jewels was on full and blinding display. Wedged
within the narrow doorway of her modest home, he appeared as displaced as a
slick politician in an urban ghetto.

He seemed well aware of the
incongruity.

Clearly uncomfortable, he shifted
his weight from one sleek Italian loafer to the other. One bejeweled hand held
a breathtaking bouquet of midnight blue roses. In the other was a crumpled silk
handkerchief. Missy suspected he used the hankie to protect his perfectly
manicured knuckles from coming into contact with the shabby door.

Admonishing herself for being a
nasty bitch, she smiled and invited him in. Accepting the proffered bouquet
with all the enthusiasm she could muster, she leaned in to kiss his cheek. When
he turned his head and caught her lips, Missy did not pull away.

It was four days since she sat
half-baked at her son's computer and discovered the terrible truth. Four days
since she came face to face with her unpardonable offense. The offense James
could never forgive.

Surprisingly, the google search of
‘submissive’ didn’t reveal anything earth-shattering. It served only to verify what
she already knew and what she’d spent a lifetime denying.

Submissive…

Moving on to the broader topic of
'BDSM'
, Missy unearthed a virtual
mountain of information. When at last she turned off the computer, she was
sorry she ever turned it on. The ‘mountain’ had quickly turned into a bona fide
avalanche. Buried beneath the carnage were Missy, and any remaining hope.

It began well enough, she recalled.
Wikipedia defined BDSM as “a variety of erotic practices involving Dominance
and submission, role-playing, restraint, power exchange, and other
interpersonal dynamics.” Missy was enthralled to learn that BDSM was an
acronym. Ultimately, it denoted the three separate and unique components of the
'lifestyle'.

She had no idea that the letters 'B'
and 'D' represented
Bondage &
Discipline while t
he 'S' and 'M' referred to
Sadism & Masochism,
the most extreme derivative of ‘The
Lifestyle’. The 'D' and 'S' stood for
Dominance
& Submission. It was this
component that best defined James's
perspective on life.

D/s is based on the gift of
submission, not the abuse of power. It consists of two
equal
parts, the ‘Dom’ and the ‘sub’, often referred to as
Top
and bottom. For the most part, the Top leads and the
bottom follows. The Top protects, the bottom serves.

In the end, each is fulfilled.

Still, genteel society clucks its
tongue and shakes its head in self-righteous disapproval. BDSM is widely
considered deviant.
 
No matter that
countless needs are satisfied, countless hearts are entwined, and countless
souls are nourished. In fact, the idiom used within the lifestyle is
'Safe, Sane, and
Consensual
'.

Missy laughed out loud reading that
many upstanding representatives of society dabble unknowingly on the fringes of
BDSM. Anyone who has ever been blindfolded, restrained, or had their butt
slapped during lovemaking - has crossed over into that 'dark' realm.

She scanned through the pages of
data, stopping at the section titled ‘The Collar’. It was there she found what
she dreaded most. If her heart weren't already broken, it would have shattered
again. She read the paragraph a second time, hoping she’d missed some small
shred of hope the first. She hadn't.

“The collar signifies the union
between a Dominant and his submissive. It is the single most recognizable
symbol of a BDSM relationship. Likened to a wedding band, devotees insist its
meaning is much more complex. Often, there are private ceremonies to
commemorate the event.”

“It is never taken lightly and not
performed under the influence of alcohol or drugs. It is meant as a commitment
to last not only a lifetime, but an eternity. Removal by either party usually
signifies the dissolution of the union. Almost invariably, it is irrevocable.”

And with that, utter hopelessness engulfed
her…

Chapter 67

Missy meant to seduce this man. Fuck
his brains out, in fact. Moreover, she was going to enjoy it if it killed her!

And so it came to be that Missy not
only allowed Ethan to kiss her; Missy kissed Ethan back. She kissed him fervently,
with real optimism in her heart. She was determined to overcome her slip from
the straight and narrow.
 
She frowned at
her choice of words.
Slip? Hardly!
It was more like a free fall.

Earlier, she and Ethan discussed
going for a bite or maybe taking a stroll through City Park. Exotic flowers
from around the globe would be in bloom at this time of year.

Missy, however, had other plans.

She despised the idea of returning
to the half-life she’d half-lived before
James. Seemingly without effort, he managed to tear through its layers
of protective hypocrisy, leaving her vulnerable and exposed
.

Submissive…

A person
can change if they want to badly enough!
Missy determined that
this day would be her day for change. She reasoned that people used to switch
from left-handed to right all the time. How much more difficult could it be to
just
not
be submissive? It would
simply take a little inner fortitude and a plan.

Luckily, Missy had both. When Ethan
drew back in shock and disbelief, she became the aggressor. Leaning her body
into him, she whispered invitingly against his lips, “How about we stay in
tonight, Ethan?” He opened his mouth to respond, but she made it difficult when
she slipped her soft tongue between his lips and nestled it gently against his.

Actions replaced words. He kissed
her eagerly, tongue thick and wet. They kissed until he broke it off again;
this time panting and gasping for air. If he wasn't sweating when he arrived,
he was now.

Unfortunately, Missy felt nothing.
Nada.
Zilch.
It appeared that while
her head was on board with her brilliant scheme, her body chose to disregard
the memo. It was simply refusing to cooperate. Infuriated with the betrayal,
she intensified her efforts.

Taking Ethan's hand, she drew him
into her tiny living room and helped him to remove his jacket. She hung it
very
carefully. She proceeded to make him
as comfortable as possible on the threadbare sofa
.
The polite thing would be to offer him a drink. Quite frankly,
Missy was afraid her nerve would evaporate in the time it took to pour.

‘Polite’ was not on the agenda this
afternoon. A piercing scream reverberated in Missy's head. Ignoring it, she
smiled prettily. Shamelessly, she climbed onto Ethan's lap.

From that vantage point, it was a
simple matter to straddle his inflamed groin and push her breasts into his
panting, perspiring face...

Chapter 68

A piercing scream reverberated in
his head. Grimacing against it, James paced the hallways of his house like a
caged animal. Something was terribly out of kilter in his universe. He couldn't
begin to fathom what it might be.

He didn’t recall ever experiencing
such an urgent sense of foreboding. Adrenaline flooded his nervous system in
jolts of manic intensity. James was prepared for any fight or flight situation
that might arise.

And, therein lay the conundrum.
There was no fight
or
flight situation
to be had. His only alternative was to continue to anxiously roam the shadowy
corridors. Getting nowhere fast, he focused on curbing the escalating
apprehension.

Try as he might, he could think of
nothing but Missy. He felt her in his heart, tasted her on his lips. He would
have sworn that he heard her in his head, as well. It was as though her very
essence was reaching out to him, reminiscent of the first day they met.

In his mind, he went to her. Making
‘contact’, James felt a modicum of relief.

She was his!
To the core and through and through,
no matter how much she wished it otherwise
.
Blood rushed to his cock at the delectable image of his whore
on her knees at his feet. They both knew it was where she belonged, even if
neither cared to admit it.

A Dominant worthy of the title
recognizes when he's made a mistake. Few were more worthy than James. Arrogance
and pettiness were usually beneath him, and yet - he realized he had succumbed
to both. The wrath so stubbornly maintained had become painfully unsustainable.
He fully acknowledged his culpability.

James would have her in her true and
proper place once again. His mind was made up.

With Missy inundating his senses and
adrenaline surging useless through his veins, he ceased his pacing and sat down
behind his desk. He was determined not to cause her any more stress than she’d
suffered already.

 
James removed his checkbook from the desk,
making good on the second installment he’d promised to Christopher. Enlisting a
courier company to deliver it immediately, he knew the twenty five thousand
dollars would be deposited into a joint account with his mother. It was
earmarked for Christopher’s tuition and Missy’s peace of mind.

With that piece of business
concluded, James realized that the desolate scream in his head had not
diminished. Nor had the adrenaline ceased to assail his blood stream. He could
think of only one practical release.

Making himself comfortable, he began
to masturbate…

Chapter
69

Ethan's cock was similar in dimension
to James's. At the moment, it was wrapped securely in latex and zealously
pumping her Death-Valley-dry pussy.

Missy was desolate. Just the thought
of James caused her heart to hammer and her genitals to swell and moisten in
response. With Ethan she was ice.
Glacial.
Numb from
the neck down. The same anesthetized sensation she'd experienced with
any
man
other than
James. Fully grasping this sad state of affairs, she
could only pray for the numbness to spread upwards as well.

She promised herself beforehand to
not be seduced by thoughts of James. Diligently, she focused on Ethan. He was
in great shape, well-muscled and lean. With her eyes squeezed shut, she
couldn't tell that his skin was the pigment of flour.

He was so shockingly pale that he
literally glowed in the dark. At least the almost solid wall of cologne had
dissipated. Either that or she'd merely grown accustomed. She wondered if it
might have triggered the blood-curdling scream that still echoed in her head.

Ethan thrust into her again and
again, oblivious to her distress. The friction was becoming unbearable.
At least, it was for Missy
. Desperately,
she worked her own clit, licked dry fingers and tried again.
Nothing.
She was on the verge of faking an orgasm and 'finishing' him off by hand.

 
It was then that her determination crumbled,
followed closely by her defenses. She surrendered wholly to that which she
could not control nor modify; her nature. Instantly, James flooded her
thoughts, and immediately thereafter - her pussy.

He
was her Master!
To the
core and through and through, no matter how fervently he wished it otherwise.
She felt him in her heart, tasted him on her lips. It was almost as though she
could hear him in her mind.

Missy imagined herself naked at his
feet. Ardently, she was begging clemency for the blatant disregard exhibited
when she’d cast off his collar and fled without a word.

It didn’t occur to her that James
missed her as much as she did him. All she knew for sure was that she was
willing to do anything to have him back.