For my Master('s) (6 page)

Five

Despite my hopes for more, a bath actually is all that is left to happen that night. A good one though. Despite my many attempts to seduce him, he remains strong in his decision not to play any more before I make up my mind.

But he joins me in the bathtub, smiling triumphantly at the faint marks that start to show on my behind and soothing me as the hot, soapy water causes my skin to burn all over again. The intimacy and feeling of closeness between us is uncanny. As I lie in his arms, soaking in hot water, surrounded by bubbles and a floral scent, it is hard for me to believe that I didn't even know this man less than 24 hours ago.

"This is crazy," I randomly whisper.

He wraps his arms around me from behind and gently kisses my neck. "Yes, it is."

I turn around to look at him. He looks back at me with the utmost affection. I am pretty sure he feels it, too. This eerie closeness. The unexplainable feeling of having known each other for years, when it has just been a few hours. It is wonderfully confusing.

And I take that feeling home. He is sitting next to me on the back seat as Frank is driving us. And he does something, I never would have dared to do by myself. He takes my hand and doesn't let go of it the entire drive.

I cast him a confused but happy smile as he does it, but he looks away, obviously trying to avoid eye contact with me.

"Thank you for tonight," I say as we arrive in front of my house. It is not even midnight when we arrive, a lot earlier than I would have thought.

"Thank you," he says, now looking at me with expectant face. He reaches inside his jacket and produces a little card that he hands over to me. It is the size of a business card, but there is nothing written on it except for a cell phone number. No name, no company or any affiliation.

"My private number," he explains. "You can reach me there. Any time."

I look at him, somewhat intimidated. "Okay."

His private number. I am pretty sure he does not give this one out to anybody. His trust is humbling.

"I am looking forward to hearing from you." He adds.

I nod. "Yes, sure. Thank you. Really."

He nods, accompanied by the most handsome smile known to human kind. This man...

I say good bye to Frank and leave the car rather hastily. Not because I feel the urge to get away from him - on the contrary - but rather, because I am scared of saying yes. It has been on the tip of my tongue for the entire evening, especially while we were soaking in the giant bath tub. And I just cannot say yes, yet. I need to think. To gather my thoughts, be smart, be rational.

Liz is still up when I enter the apartment. She comes out of her room as soon as she hears me close the door.

"Uuh!" She exclaims as she sees me. "My, my. Where have you been, looking so fancy? I haven't seen you wear that dress in ages!"

I smile sheepishly. "Out."

I am annoyed at myself for not thinking about what I would tell her. If I would tell her anything. Liz has been one of my closest friends for years and I know her to be quite liberal - maybe even more than me - and pragmatic. If there was anybody, I could tell about what had happened today, it would be her. I assume.

"Out?" She presses. "Where? With whom?"

I get rid of my scarf and stroll to the kitchen. "Do we have some wine left?"

Liz follows me and cocks her head. "Yes. Why?"

"I need some."

"You're making me curious," Liz says, grinning from one ear to the other while she places herself at the table. "Give me a glass, too."

I pour us two small glasses of what is left of our white wine and join her at the table.

"Okay," I begin. "This needs to stay between us."

Her eyes widen in anticipation. "Yes, sure!"

"I was out with Mr. Jones. Nathan Jones," I finally dare to say. "He invited me for... a drink. And a little more."

Her jaw drops. "What? No way!"

I take a sip of my wine and nod. "Yes."

"So, wait," she follows up, visibly excited. "Don't tell me you slept with him?"

I feel my cheeks blush as I opt for another sheepish smile. "Yes, I did. And it was fucking amazing."

"Girl!" Liz yells, raising her hand for a high five.

I raise my left eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Oh come on, if guys can do it, why not us?" She asks. "You slept with a freaking billionaire! A hot one, I might add."

She has a point there. I give her a high five and immediately return to my slightly embarrassed demeanor afterwards.

"So, will you see him again?" She presses. "Does he want to date you - or what?"

I shrug. "It's not that simple, actually."

"How's that?"

I look at her. And as I look into Liz's curious and somewhat naive eyes, I suddenly make up my mind. I will say yes. I have known all evening. Everything inside me is screaming for this man. I need to see him again, to play with him, be trained by him. I want to be close to him. Closer even than he might want me right now. The thought of saying no feels wrong on so many levels. I feel like I would cheat myself - and him.

And I would say yes to his offer. I have to, anyways. But I will try to negotiate an agreement that I could feel comfortable with. There must be a way to make this work, even for my own morals and the bad conscience that would accompany the deal in its most current format.

"Cyn?"

But what would I tell Liz? And my parents? And anybody else?

Good friend or not - I couldn't tell her. Not right now at least.

"Well," I reply eventually. "It all happened really fast. We just met today. I don't know. I just said yes, because he asked and well, as you have mentioned - he is incredibly hot. And very convincing."

"He asked right after your job interview?" She asks with a naughty grin.

"Yeah," I say.

"Wow," she giggles. "Told you! He has a reputation."

"Maybe. It was fun though."

Liz raises her eyebrows. "Be careful. Don't lose your head over someone who might just be playing with you. Who knows how many other young, female applicants he has nailed this week."

I nod. "Don't worry. It was a fun night. I don't regret it no matter what will happen next."

She smirks. "Yeah, you look like you did."

We say good night shortly after. Of course Liz didn't let me off the hook without an interrogation about the events of that night. I minimize the details and don't mention anything about what actually happened inside the hotel room. She seems satisfied nonetheless, high fiving me at least two more times during my story.

I shut myself to my room and lie down on the bed, retrieving the card and my phone from my purse to add him as a contact.

And then I stare on my screen. Contemplating. Is this a smart move? I am tired, drowsy and even a bit tipsy. And still dazed by our play. I can still feel the burns of his flogger on my skin. Should I wait till morning?

"Oh, fuck this," I whisper and start typing.

Just one word.

"Yes."

One

No reply. Not after five minutes, not after ten, not after an hour. He might be sleeping already. Tomorrow is a working day after all and unlike me he probably has to be at the office early.

I eventually force myself to sleep. Staring at my phone won't make him reply any sooner. The night is as restless as I expected it to be. Saying yes would change the course of my near future. Even though I had applied for both, the graduate degree and the scholarship, I had not really anticipated to continue university this upcoming fall. Hence the job hunting. And I have told no one about the applications to begin with - except for Liz.

And him.

He messages me back early in the morning, almost two hours before my own alarm goes off to wake me for my part time job.

" Frank will pick you up this Friday. 8pm."

That is all it says. Again, he is not asking whether I am free, but just assumes that I will be. I frown at my phone while waiting for my morning coffee to be done.

"Has it occurred to you that I might have other plans?" I reply.

I mean, I am free, but this is a matter of principle.

"Do you?" He asks back.

I sigh. "No. You're lucky."

"Friday then," he writes back. "I can't wait to spank that attitude out of you."

Attitude, huh. Fair enough. I am beginning to get a better idea of what I got myself into.

And I like it.

He sends one more message before I leave the house. "Wear a dress for me. Hair down. No tights. No bra. And a black thong."

I freeze, rereading the message, once, twice. My brain calls for a bratty reply - an "Excuse me? Who do you think you are?," while my heart is doing somersaults in excitement. This could be fun, a lot more than I thought.

I spend the following three days until Friday to work on my plan. The lies I would have to tell - and the conditions under which I would be willing to agree to his offer.

No one except Liz knows about my applications, and it would be easy to simply tell her that I got the scholarship, even if I don't. A small part of me is still hoping, even though chances are getting slimmer by the day. I know they would inform those who got it first - and they have started sending out notifications weeks ago. There is not much time left for the redemptive letter to arrive. It is not impossible, but extremely unlikely.

My parents on the other hand don't even know about the applications to begin with. All they know is that I am job hunting and have given up any hopes for a higher degree a long time ago. Neither one of them has a college degree and they think it is best for me to gain some work experience instead of continuing to pore over books that no one outside academia deems useful. After all, I could still get a graduate degree after I have had a taste of the real world - if I still want to by then. And I am pretty sure they expect me to lose interest in schooling once I start earning money. They would be mad to hear that I have applied without telling them anything. But they might take it a little better if they know I would no longer be a financial burden on them, despite continuing the book poring.

And then there is Nathan. The handsome billionaire who wants to make all of this possible under the condition that I would become his sub. My understanding of what that could entail is still faint to say the least. And I have no reason to trust him either.

My head is full of questions as I head out on Friday night. Some of them are written down in a little notepad that I carry in my purse. I am wearing a different dress. Number two in regards to elegance - out of the three dresses I have in total. I would have to go shopping if he wants me to wear a dress - a different one no less - every time we meet. No tights, a request that I follow gladly, because it is another hot summer day. Yet, I feel quite naked as I step outside. I have not been outside without a bra since my early teenage years. My boobs have started to grow early and stopped late. I like their size and am kind of proud of them, but feeling them bounce as I walk outside is eerie, an unfamiliar feeling. I feel exposed, even though I am quite sure that an outsider could not tell by simply looking at me, because my dress is doing a good job in covering my remarkable cleavage.

Frank is already waiting outside and greets me with the discrete and polite demeanor of a servant. I awkwardly smile at him as he opens the door for me to get in the car. Just one of many things I will have to get used to, I guess.

"How are you doing?" I ask him in a helpless attempt at small talk when he starts the engine.

"Very good, thank you," Frank replies, casting me a smile through the driving mirror. "And the young Miss?"

"Same, same," I say, absently looking out the window. "Very good."

That is all we say for the entire drive. I don't even know where we are going. Another bar? A hotel? Nathan's home? Somehow, I feel embarrassed about asking Frank. I don't want to appear like a dumb sheep.

I can't help but wonder about how much he knows about his employer's preferences. How many young women he had chauffeured around for Nathan. And how much he knows about the things Nathan does to these women. At their wish.

The drive is longer this time and we are heading to a different part of town. I never owned a car since I moved here four years ago, so I am not too familiar with the road network, especially of this part of the city. The far west, as far as I can tell. An area I have always had little reason to visit. A wealthy area. We are still close to the city center, but the further we go, the fewer skyscrapers are blocking our view. They are steadily replaced by smaller high class residential houses.

We eventually stop in front of one of them. Frank pulls the car up on a curved driveway in front of an approximately ten story building. It is rather new, with a sparkling white exterior wall and huge windows surrounded by black frames.

Nathan is waiting for us at the front door and hurries to the car as soon as we come to a halt. Wearing a black suit just like last time. An expensive one, I am sure. It fits perfectly. My heart flutters just looking at him. I am still baffled by the fact that a man like him could show any interest in me.

He opens the door for me and once again offers his hand to help me get out of the car. Only this time, I take it.

He smiles at me, looking very pleased. "Good evening, Cynthia."

"Good evening, Nathan."

I notice him scanning my body from head to toe, even though he is trying to do it discretely. He appears to approve of my getup - and I wonder if he can tell how well I have followed his orders.

"You look beautiful," he simply concludes, still holding my hand.

"Thank you," I reply and sheepishly lower my head.

He leads me inside the building, where we are greeted by a friendly doorman in the lobby. We head straight for the elevator at the end other of the entrance area.

"Is this where you live?" I ask while we are waiting for the doors to open.

"When I am in town, yes." He says, casting me an intense side look. "Have you been a good girl?"

Those words are enough for my heart to jump, unwillingly causing my pulse to race. It is not only what he says, but how he does it. This calm, confident intensity that characterizes his voice. In combination with his incredibly good looks, I cannot imagine how anyone could ever say no to him. I sure as hell would try, though. I don't want to make this too easy, or miss out on the fun of teasing him - and earning the punishments. The rewards. I can take more than what he gave me last time.

Yet, for now I turn into a shivering mess beneath his gaze. "Yes, Sir."

The elevator invites us in and he beckons me to enter before him. He enters a short code into the panel inside and pushes the button for the top floor. As soon as the doors close and the elevator starts moving, he turns around to me.

"You don't mind if I check, do you."

It's not a question, but I still nod quickly, before he pushes me back until I am standing with my back to the wall. He grabs my wrists and pulls my arms up, keeping them pinned above my hand with his right hand, while the other wanders down, towards my breasts. He starts kneading my right boob, squeezing it aggressively. I moan as he starts pinching my nipple through the thin fabric of my dress.

"Good girl," he whispers and presses his lips on mine. I welcome his tongue with mine, exploring him just as eager as he explores me. He tastes so good, fresh and clean with just a hint of sweetness.

He lets go of my boob and reaches beneath my dress without further ado, gently stroking my center above the fabric of my thong. I blush, fearing he might notice just how wet even this little intermezzo has gotten me.

He doesn't leave much room for speculations and skillfully moves my thong to the side so that he can get a feel of my clit without any fabric disturbing his intrusion. I am slick with lust and he smile at the realization, gently rubbing my clit with his finger. I flinch in arousal as he lets that same finger slip inside me with ease.

"Fuck," I hiss, amazed and ashamed at my insane excitement.

He smiles triumphantly. "You're such a little slut. I love it."

The elevator stops and almost simultaneously, he withdraws his finger and licks it with relish as the doors open behind him. I stare up at him and literally feel my cheeks glow with heat as he whispers: "Delicious."