Clicking out of his program, Jeff leaned back in his computer chair with a contented sigh. The numbers were good, everything was going slightly better than planned. If this trend continued, he'd actually wind up in better shape than he'd thought possible.
Slightly less than six months earlier, Jeff had found himself holding a winning lottery ticket. Not the biggest prize, no record by any means, but big enough. Even after taxes, and spread out over twenty years, it amounted to more money than he could hope to spend. He just had to make it through this first year.
The first year, he'd known from the start, would be the cruch point. From his initial check, he'd known would come the largest expenses. Buying property, putting in a house with all its attendant requirements for furniture, cookware, dishes, and all the other things that made a home livable. There was also a car, as well as replacing his fairly worn out wardrobe. Put together, it all added up to a significant outlay of cash, cutting deeply into his funds. Still, by budgeting the rest, watching what he spent, he'd figured he could avoid the seeming curse of lottery winners who seemed too often to go broke before the first year was out.
Not Jeff. Based on the numbers he'd just been looking at, he'd actually been spending less than he'd budgeted. At this rate, he could easily coast through the next six months. Then, with his second check in the bank and no plans for large spending sprees, he could pretty much just sit back and watch his bank account grow.
Glancing around, Jeff smiled. He now had pretty much everything he could want or need. From now on, spending would be pretty much routine, for things like bills, groceries, with enough left for an occasional DVD or video game. His world had never looked brighter.
And then the doorbell rang.
Puzzled, Jeff rose from his chair. Now who could that be? His best friend, who was also co-winner on his ticket, never rang. Instead, he usually called ahead and then simply walked in. With no family nearby, and nobody in this small town he really knew, the doorbell was probably the one part of this new house he'd thought would get used the least, if at all.
Still, he thought, leaving his office, no sense wondering. Open the door and find out. Moving across the living room, he threw open the front door, only to pause as he saw who stood outside.
For a moment, he simply stared at the two women on his doorstep. Finally, shaking his head, he said, "Well, that answers my question."
At this, his two visitors simply looked confused. "I was just asking myself," Jeff explained, "what could possibly happen. Things are so bright, what could possibly cast a cloud over things. And here you are. The question is, why? Why are you here, Rose?"
Rosalind, Rose to friends, was an ex-girlfriend. Well, maybe girlfriend wasn't the right term. Sure, they'd been intimate in ways that might shock his new neighbors, but they'd never had what he could have called an "official" relationship. Instead, he'd been the perpetual other man in her life, at least until he'd called it off, tired of waiting for something he'd always known would never happen. Since then, he'd heard nothing from her. Until now.
"How," he asked, "did you find me?"
"I called your old house," Rose replied. "They told me where you were living now."
"And why exactly did you want to know?"
"Because of her." Rose nodded toward her companion. "Jeff, this is Cecilia. I thought you might be able to help her with something personal."
For a moment, Jeff simply looked at the second woman. Finally, he stepped back, gesturing the two in. "Coming from you," he said, "this should be good." Turning, he led the two into the living room, gesturing toward the couch as he sank into his recliner.
"Ok," he said, gazing at his visitors, "what's this personal thing you think I can help with?"
"Well," Rose replied, sounding almost hesitant, "Cecilia wants to find out about something. Something not just anyone can help her with."
"And you think I can." Considering the nature of their relationship, Jeff had a feeling he already knew what was coming. Still, it wouldn't hurt to make one of them actually say it. "And what might that be?"
"Cecilia...." Now Rose sounded even more hesitant. "Well, she wants to find out what if's like to be....you know." Under Jeff's steady gaze, she flushed slightly. "You're going to make me say it, aren't you? Ok, she wants to know what it feels like to be submissive to someone."
Jeff nodded. Score one for predictability. "And you just naturally thought of me."
Under his gaze, Rose's flush deepened slightly. "Well, she replied, her tone almost defensive, "you were a good teacher. If things had been different...."
"Right." Jeff turned his attention toward the other woman on the couch. "Ok," he said, "you want to learn submission?" Seeing her head nod, he frowned. "I can't hear your head move," he said, watching her eyes widen at his words. "So let's try it again. Do you want to learn submission?"
"Yes," she replied, the word barely audible.
"She thinks she might be submissive," Rose put in. "She...." Her words fell off as Jeff turned his gaze on her.
"Was I talking to you?"
"Well, no, but...."
"Then let her speak for herself." Jeff turned his attention back to Cecilia. "Why," he asked again, "do you want to learn this?"
For a moment, Cecilia was silent, as if gathering her thoughts. "I've always," she finally said, "felt a need to please people. And since we became friends, Rose has been telling me some of the things submission makes you feel."
Jeff nodded. "I can pretty much guess what kinds of feelings she means. And it doesn't incline me to agree to this."
Cecilia's eyes widened. "But," she protested softly, "she said you're a great teacher. She said you could teach me what you taught her." Her eyes fell. "And she said you'd probably jump at the chance once you saw me."
Jeff shook his head. "I may have been a good teacher," he replied. "Unfortunately, I didn't have a good student."
"I learned," Rose protested. "I learned everything you taught me."
"You learned," Jeff retorted, "exactly what you wanted to learn, nothing more. And all you wanted to know about was the physical part."
Jeff turned his eyes toward Cecilia. "Rose," he told her, "was only interested in one thing. Kinky sex. If it didn't include an orgasm for her, she wasn't interested. Which means she learned nothing of the mental or emotional aspects."
"That's not fair!"
"It's true," Jeff said, "and that's all that matters. And if she brought you to me, it's for the same reason she was interested. And I have no desire to get into that kind of arrangement again."
"There's...." Cecilia paused. "There's more? More than what she told me about?"
Jeff nodded. "Much more. And it's not something you can learn in a day, or a week, or even a month. It's an ongoing process."
"She can handle it. I've seen how she is, and she...." Once more, Rose's words fell off under Jeff's gaze.
"You've done your part in this," he told her. "Now it's her turn."
"But she doesn't know what to say," Rose protested. "She doesn't know what to ask."
"And she won't," was the reply, "if you keep talking for her. Now, you can sit there quietly, or you can leave." Without waiting for an answer, he turned back to Cecilia.
"Now," he said, "you think you might be submissive." Slowly, Cecilia nodded. "Ok, have you thought this for a while, or did it start after you met her?"
"Before, I think," Cecilia said slowly. "I've always wanted to make people happy. And sometimes, when I know I've done something good, it makes me feel good. Warm and....and....happy, I guess."
"She has a need to please," Rose said. At this, Jeff's eyes narrowed.
Rose's eyes widened. "But," she protested, "you can't make me leave!"
"My home," Jeff said simply, "my rules. And you knew your options. Stay silent or leave. You've obviously chosen the second."
"I'll stay quiet," Rose said quickly. "I promise."
"Somehow," Jeff observed, "I find that hard to believe. Still," he added thoughtfully, "she might feel better if you're in here. So you want to stay?" At Rose's fervent nod, he stood. "Then let's make sure you follow the rules from now on." With that, he strode from the room. When he returned, he was pushing his computer chair in front of him. In his other hand, he carried a small cloth bag.
"Sit." Hesitantly, Rose sank into the chair. Once she was seated, Jeff placed her arms atop the arms of the chair, then reached into the bag. Rose's eyes widened as she watched him withdraw a roll of bondage tape. Silently, she watched as he wrapped the tape around her left arm, securing it in place atop the arm of the chair. Her right arm was soon similarly secured.
Squatting behind the chair, Jeff reached forward and drew Rose's ankles toward him. Once her feet were behind the central post of the chair, he drew them together, crossing them and securing them with a length of rope cinched around her ankles. The ends of the rope were then secured to the curved post holding the chair back, drawing her feet further back and up until her heels nearly touched the bottom of the seat.
"You don't have to do this," Rose said as Jeff rose to his feet, the final item from the bag in one hand. With his other hand, he reached around her head, covering her mouth with his palm while pinching her nose with thumb and forefinger. Quickly, Rose began struggling, but he kept his hand in place for several seconds. When he removed it, Rose gasped for air, allowing him to insert the gag into her mouth.
"She always," he said as he buckled the strap behind Rose's head, "loved to be gagged, but she had a bad habit of fighting me about it. This way was easier than trying to convice her to open up."
Eyes wide, Cecilia watched as Jeff wheeled Rose across the room, backing her against the wall. Nodding, he returned to his chair.
"Now," he said, "we can continue our conversation without interuption."
"O....okay." Cecilia's wide eyes were glued to Rose. Seeing this, Jeff smiled.
"Never seen someone bound before, have you?"
Cecilia shook her head. "Not for real," she replied slowly. "I mean, not an actual person. I mean..."
"I know," Jeff said, nodding. "A live person, not an image or a video of them. So what does seeing it this way make you feel?"
Cecilia's eyes never left Rose's helpless body. "Strange," she said softly "But in a good way, I think." Her eyes finally turned toward Jeff. "Is that what you can teach me?"
Jeff frowned. "That," he said, "is only one small part of it, and not the most important part. Problem is, that's the only part she ever wanted to learn."
"But," Cecilia protested, "she's submissive. She told me so."
Jeff shook his head. "She," he replied, "is a bondage slut. All she ever cared about was having sex while bound." He watched Rose's eyes narrow in anger at his words. "The rest of it, the real meaning of submission, that was something she just gave lip service to so she could have her bondage sex."
Cecilia stiffened slightly. "You can't talk about her that way," she said.
Jeff smiled slightly. "Did you just tell me what I can and can't do in my own home?" he asked, his tone casual." As her eyes widened. he nodded. "Submissives," he said, "do not give orders. They obey orders. And they especially do not give orders to the very person they're supposed to be submissive to." Slowly, he shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I don't think this is going to work. The one who brought you here isn't submissive, and that outburst tells me you're probably not. I think we should just leave it at that."
Cecilia stared at him, eyes wide. "Please," she begged, "don't send me away. I want to learn. I need to learn. I'll do anything, but please don't make me leave now."
Jeff eyed her thoughtfully. "If a real submissive spoke to me that way," he said, "she would be punished."
Cecilia continued to stare for several seconds, finally dropping her eyes. "Then, please," she said softly, "punish me."
"Are you sure?" At her slow nod, he rose from his chair. Moving across the room, he took hold of the computer chair, wheeling Rose's helpless form through a door and out of sight. Returning alone seconds later, he found Cecilia perched on the edge of the couch.
"Stand." Quickly, Cecilia rose to her feet. "Now, on your knees on the couch, facing the back." Silently, she took the required position. "Pants at your knees."
"My pants? But...." With an obvious effort, she silenced herself, hands going to her waist. Slowly, she unfastened her jeans, pushing down until they pooled at her knees.
"Panties too." Once her panties were down, Jeff moved to stand behind her. "Since this is your first punishment," he said, "we'll make it a mild one. A spanking. And I want you to count each swat. Understood?" Slowly, she nodded. "I still can't hear your head move. Understood?"
"Yes," she whispered."
"Ok, elbows on the back of the couch, ass out." Once she'd positioned herself as commanded, Jeff took a moment to simply gaze at the soft, firm swell of her ass. Then, seeing her shift slightly, he smiled.
"Right, then." Slowly his hand rose, only to fall stingingly on the near cheek of Cecilia's ass. "One," she said, her voice quavering slightly. Again the hand fell, this time landing on the far cheek. "Two." With each swat, the quaver in her voice became more pronounced, until, with the sixth swat, she was nearly sobbing. Deciding she'd had enough, Jeff stepped back.
"Feet." Awkwardly, Cecilia slid from the couch, her jeans and panties pooling at her feet as she stood. "Turn." Slowly, she pivoted until she faced away from the couch. Slowly, Jeff's hand rose. Watching, Cecilia stiffened slightly, but made no movement as his hand reached the level of her face. Carefully, gently, Jeff wiped a slight trace of moisture from the corners of her eyes.
"Did that hurt?"
Slowly, Cecilia began to nod, only to pause suddenly. "Yes," she said softly. Seeing this, Jeff smiled.
"See? You're learning already. Did it hurt bad?"
"Not really," she replied. "It mostly just stung."
"Then why were you trying to cry?"
Cecilia gazed at him, her eyes still moist. "Because," she said, "it felt terrible. Bent over the couch, my pants down, being spanked for something I did wrong."
Nodding, Jeff reached down and lightly stroked her ass, watching her tense at the touch. "So it wasn't how it felt here you hated," he said, raising his other hand to touch her forehead. "It was how it felt here."
"I think so. The swats stung, but knowing why I was being swatted was worse."
"That," Jeff told her, "is a very good sign."
"It is?" This time, there was a hopeful tone to her voice. "Does that mean I can pull my pants up now?"
Smiling, Jeff knelt at her feet. "Hands," he said, tapping his own shoulders. Obediently, Cecilia placed her palms on his shoulders. Gently, he lifted one foot, slipping her shoe off, followed by the leg of her jeans. Her other foot quickly followed suit. Then, rising slowly from the floor, Jeff gently drew her panties up her legs, carefully settling them into place.
"There," he said, glancing at her, "how's that? Those legs are really too nice to hide. And the most important part is still covered." Eyes never leaving hers, he pressed one hand softly against the juncture of her thighs.
At his touch, her eyes widened. something like a gasp slipping from between her lips, yet she didn't move, even when he began slowly rubbing his fingers up and down. For several seconds, she simply stared at him, but then her eyes drifted closed, and he felt her press slightly against him. He waited another second, then withdrew his hand, watching as her eyes sprang open.
"Did that feel good?"
"Yes," she said softly, "very."
"And why is that?"
Her expression changed to one of confusion. "Because of where you were touching me?" By her tone, this was clearely a question, not an answer.
"Was it the location, or the way you were touched?" Seeing her expression become even more confused, Jeff turned away, moving quickly from the room. When he returned, he was pushing Rose ahead of him, still securely bound in her chair. He parked her once more against the wall, then returned to where Cecilia still stood.
"She," he said, nodding toward Rose, "was an almost complete failure as a submissive, but there was one way she excelled. When she submitted her body to me, she did so completely. Among other things, it meant she was much more sensitive to my touch than anyone else's, no matter where I touched her. Of course," he added, once more brushing his fingers between her thighs, drawing another gasp, "some parts were even more sensitive than others. She used to say I could play her body like a piano."
"Is that why it feels so good?" As she spoke, Cecilia gazed at Jeff's hand with a wistfull expression.
"That," he told her, "is a possibility that might be worth exploring. That is, if you still want to learn more, now that you've experienced the bad side of it."
For a moment, Cecilia simply gazed at the bound woman across the room. Almost from the second she'd been pushed through the door, Rose had been staring with wide eyes at Cecilia's bare legs. Finally, Cecilia turned her gaze back toward Jeff.
"I didn't like being punished," she said softly. "And I hope I never have to be punished again. But I do want to learn more. I want to feel more." Slowly, as if afraid of resistance, she took his hand, placing it against the juncture of her thighs. "And not just what it feels like here," she said, then raised his hand to her forehead. "I want to find out more of what it feels like here. And here," she added, lowering his hand to rest between her breasts."
Jeff nodded. "I think we can handle that." Glancing toward Rose, he smiled. "But next time," he said, "no escort."
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