Her Father, My Master: Mentor (15 page)

Mr. Hendricks pumped on top of m
e
more and more erratically, and I knew that was a sign that he was going to come, and soon.  His hands were now gripping my shoulders tightly, and they squeezed uncomfortably as he now bellowed and unloaded his seed inside me, filling me up once more to the brim.
  It was so quick.

I just couldn’t get enough of him.

We both lay on the bed afterwards, his body on top of mine, comforting, and protective weight.  I could scarcely breathe because of it, but it didn’t matter.  The physical sensation of him seemed so much more important to me than oxygen, right now.

Our session was unfortunately short.  My master didn’t know what time Maddie was getting back, and he wanted me out of the house a mere two hours after we started.  It didn’t seem like nearly enough time anymore, but I couldn’t argue with him on this.  He was the ultimate authority.

He glanced out at my car on the driveway.  “Next time,
park down the street.  Just in case.”

I nodded.  “Yes, sir.”

“Remember what you’re supposed to do when I text you.”  It wasn’t a question, but an order.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

When I arrived home, I took the college letter, and buried underneath a pile of old schoolwork.  My mind was made up.

Throughout the week, I got a multitude of texts; more than I thought I would.  And it always followed a certain pattern.  My master would instruct me to feel some volatile, easy emotion, something
effortless
to turn on in my brain, and then 15 minutes later, he would instruct me to feel something far more subtle, and difficult.  He was trying to get me to control my emotions with an iron will, and it was
hard
.

There were some emotions that I felt were supremely easy to feel, and manage.  Happiness and excitement were chief among those emotions.  Some were easy to feel, but difficult to turn off.  Anger, jealousy, rage, frustration.  All I had to do was think about that bitch Maddie, or Joey, and those feelings would come pouring out of my brain.

But when he asked me to feel calmness after 15 minutes
of thinking about them
, I would have trouble.  My mind would keep wandering back to those two.  How I hated them.  They fucked my life up weeks ago, and they continued to haunt me, even though I wanted nothing more to do with them.

Maddie was officially and utterly excised from my lunch group.  I sometimes saw her across the cafeteria, or in my classes.  She’d found a new crowd to hang out with.  Actually, not a new crowd; she simply hung out with her volleyball friends far more than she used to.

In addition to all these pressures
that new
social dynamics and my master were putting on me, finals were also looming, and my parents were both harassing me in unison to do well on them.

“Just remember, if you do really poorly,
the
University
of
Virginia
can and will revoke its acceptance of you,” my dad sternly told me one night.  That was the college I’d told them I was going to. 
T
he letter
actually
was still sitting on my dresser, buried under
that stack
of schoolwork.
W
ith every day that passed, my resolve only grew stronger.  I needed my master.

“I know dad.”  It was getting harder and harder to suppress my frustration and sarcasm at my parents these days.  They were being so overbearing and obnoxious, and I had no idea why.  Just then, my phone vibrated.

“Who’s that?”

I rolled my eyes.  “Probably Maddie.”  In truth, it was probably my master, commanding me to feel a different emotion.  Or perhaps telling me to meditate.  He’d taken to ordering me to meditate for one hour at a time in the evenings.  At first I found in unbearable, but now… well, I still found it unbearable.  But I would do anything to please him.

I checked the message, careful to angle the phone screen away from my curious father.  I d
id
n’t think he would be able to decipher anything from the cryptic message, but still.

Anxiety.

I breathed a tiny sigh of relief.  With everything that was happening to me, anxiety was an easy emotion to call up.  All I had to do was think about college, my future, Mr. Hendricks, and what I was going to do with this neat little mess. 
I already knew I would
stay behind and do as he offered
.
 
But i
n what capacity
, exactly
?  Would I be his slave?

The idea appealed to me.

I
f my parents ever found out, they would be disappointed.  I didn’t think they could do anything beyond be disappointed, as I was legally an adult, but they could do to me what they were currently doing to Kandace.  My mom spent every moment
she could spare
on the phone arguing with her, begging her to reconsider her stupid plan to marry that man.  I didn’t think I could hold up to that kind of onslaught.

The very thought made me anxious, which was exactly what I was going for.  I left the kitchen, and made my way up to my room.  I always tried to be alone for these emotion sessions, as it helped me concentrate better, and proceeded to worry for the next 15 minutes.  I was at a good tempo, when my phone buzzed again.  Predictably, my master was now ordering me to feel calm.

This was the difficult part.  I cleared my mind, something that became easier the more I practiced, and lay back in my bed.  I’d taken to concentrating on building up a calming scene in my head.  I would focus on a beach scene, the blue sky, ocean waves crashing at my feet, the burning sensation of hot sand on my skin, the call of the gulls.  After I built that scene up, I would move quickly to the next, before my mind could latch onto anything worrisome.  I might think of a forest, a river, a jungle, anything.

These calming sessions passed more and more quickly, the more practiced I became at them.  Soon, I felt utterly calm, my mind clear as a summer day.

Summer.  Worries of what would happen in the future began to creep into my mind again.

Well, perhaps I needed more practice.

*****

Finals week was on me before I knew it.  My emotional exercises had helped me prepare for this stressful time, but still I felt those more volatile emotions creep around the edges.

My friends had noticed my calmer demeanor, however.  My master had developed a good plan for me.

“Is everything okay?” Jess asked me at lunch one Tuesday.

“Of course it is.”  Mr. Hendricks had me currently floating on a cloud of contentedness right now.  I felt strangely aloof to everyone in school, I’d been on this emotion so long.

“You just seem kind of weird.”

“Yeah,” Sophie agreed.  “Are you on drugs?”

“No!” I replied, feeling defensive.  Then I composed myself, and thought of lying in bed next to my master, again.  After sex with him was when I felt the most content.

“Are you high?” Ash asked, giggling.

“No,” I repeated more calmly.

“Aren’t you worried about exams?” she continued her prodding questions.  She was trying to get a rise out of me.

“No.”  It was strange, but I already found myself drifting away from these girls.  I knew it had to happen, sooner or later.  None of us were going to the same college.
  Even if I was going to a standard college, which I wasn’t.  I was
utterly
certain that my mind had been made up
on this
.  I was only waiting for graduation, which would happen in just a couple of weeks.

My heart gave a flutter at that, but I urged calmness back into my body.

My next exam was Intro to Calculus, which I was fairly certain I aced.  I was always fairly good with numbers, a point I took pride in.  Girls alw
ays talked about how difficult m
ath was, but I thought they were just playing tricks with their own mind.  That’s what society told them.  Math didn’t have to be hard.

Still, I was glad for exams to be over with, by the end of the week.  Over the past weeks, months even, I’d slowly felt more and more detached from this high school life.  I didn’t want any part of it, anymore.  I just wanted to be able to move on.  I knew I had bigger and better things in my future.  It was funny, but I bet my classmates felt the same way, for different reasons.

*****

Graduation was a strange affair.  I felt like a blimp in my billowing gown, and I could feel tendrils of sweat snaking down my back in the early June heat.
  It was so long, and utterly boring.  The valedictorian (not me, of course) gave a strange rambling speech that seemed to have nothing to do with the student body, and consisted almost completely of sitcom character lines, and then the diplomas were doled out, one by one.  It felt like I sat there for hours until I finally was called to make my way up the stage to the
p
rincipal.  At least I could be content with the knowledge that my
last
name, Waverly, was near the end of the alphabet.  The entire ceremony was over in short order, and I fought the throngs of teenagers to find my own parents.

Stranger still, I could see Mr. Hendricks.  But it was so awkward.  I kept catching glimpses of him in the crowd, and in the packed bleachers surrounding the football field, but I couldn’t talk to him.  It would be difficult to explain to my parents, for one, and I didn’t want to see Maddie.  I was still so angry with her, I never wanted to see her again.  But her father was my lover.
  Far more than my lover, in fact.
  It was such a strange situation.

I was more anxious for what would happen afterwards, anyways.  Mr. Hendricks had told me I could deliver my decision to him after graduation, and I knew what I was going to say.  After all this time, the envelope containing my reply to UVA went un-mailed, and the de
adline to do so had long passed
.  For better or for worse, my decision was made.

And I would get to tell him soon, so soon.  With any luck, I would be able to see him tomorrow night, though I wasn’t sure Maddie would go out.

I did go out with my friends that night, to a party, but my heart wasn’t into it.  I could barely remember anything that happened, but there was some drinking, and some drunken escapades.  I didn’t participate.  I only floated above the scene,
detached
from
all the absurdities my friends participated in.  I only wanted it to be Saturday.  I wanted to give my answer to my master.

I would get my chance, and soon.

*****

Saturday was quiet.  I slept in late, as I had spent the night out late, with my parents’ blessing.  I was nervous for most of the day.  I wanted my phone to vibrate, I willed Mr. Hendricks to send me a message.  I needed to see him.  I felt like this answer to his question was burning a hole in my tongue, and the only thing that would ease off the pain would be to spit it out at him.

At 6 in the evening, I got that fateful message.

Come to me.

It was the same message as always, but I felt a tingle of electricity run through my spine.  This was it.

I didn’t have much time, but I’d prepared for this.  I just needed to hastily apply my makeup and throw on a set of clothes I’d already picked out for the occasion – a short black skirt and silky, green, low-cut blouse – and I was ready to go.

I gave my usual excuse and not-quite-lie that I was going to Maddie’s to my parents, and I was off.

My heart was beating like a drum as I raced down the darkening streets.  Mr. Hendricks had to know that tonight was the night I could answer him, and accept his collar.  And he had to know what my answer would be.  It was blatantly obvious.  At least, I thought so.

His house dark, completely black, and at first I doubted myself.  Had he actually sent me a text?  I fumbled with my phone, and looked at th
e chat
history, its bright screen lighting up my face.  There it was.  I had to go to him.  It was an order.

I stepped out of my car, stumbling a bit in my high heels.  I didn't even know why I'd chosen to wear these things, they were so clumsy, and it wasn't like I had to impress him.  I only needed to impress him when he commanded it, which wasn't often.  He didn't seem very focused on physical appearances.

As I walked down the street, towards his house, it remained as silent and monolithic as it had when I passed by.  With tentative steps, I walked towards his front door.  Then I knocked.  There was no answer.

The front door was open, and I could see into the black maw of the house.  But the storm door was shut, and I knew better than to enter my master's house without his permission.  So I waited.

And I waited.

After so many minutes of this, I began to grow nervous.  What was he playing at?  Was this a new game?