Sorry about the delay: I had some issues with my ISP, with the end result that my outgoing email all bounced back for a couple of months. Just got it back.
Of course, the smart thing would be to keep writing all that time.
I did do some writing... (Almost entirely other stories.)
Anyway, I hope this is worth the wait. As always, my email is: Darkmind@darkmindweb.com. (And even when I was having ISP problems, I could receive emails.
My Hagiography, Ch. 2—Part 14
“So, how did your discussion go with Sara?” David said, putting His briefcase down in it’s place.
“Ok. She asked a few questions, but no real problems I think. She did seem concerned that we hadn’t set more guidelines when we started. And when we went over what you had told me to do about her, she got...”
“Yes?”
I was still hunting for the words. “She didn’t want to talk anymore. She cut the workout short.”
“Probably wanted to think about what you’d said. Chances are that’s a good thing.” He moved into giving me a massage. “What did you think of it?”
“I...” I wanted to think about His fingers. “I don’t know what to think. It is nice to be able to talk about it with someone, and I am glad I’m allowed to, but...”
The excuse for clothing I had been wearing was rapidly leaving my body. “Hmm. She probably has a point about the guidelines. Are there any more you would like to set?”
I managed to look up at Him. “Anything You want I want.”
He laughed. “Good girl.” And then He rewarded me.
Sara avoided me on Thursday. I just let myself work out, and go through my routine.
I did want to talk to her. It surprised me how much it meant to be able to talk to someone who understood.
Friday she approached me, just after one of her clients left. “Hi. I see you’re keeping up the workout.”
“I have an incentive.” I grinned back.
She chuckled. “Everyone should be so lucky. My job would be easier, at least.”
“Bad morning?”
“You could say that. Rich execs, who have no time to follow a plan, and then blame me when it fails, and rich society wives who are more interested in who’s doing who in some soap opera of a life than in actually living their own...” A sigh. “It’s days like this that make me wish I didn’t have to think for myself.”
“I’m sure David could arrange that.”
She looked at me, oddly. “And you? What would you think of that?”
The question hadn’t come up for me. I thought about it a moment.
David hadn’t ever said He wanted to control her, after all. The one time He’d mentioned a threesome He’d blown it off as something unlikely.
“I...” The words wouldn’t come. Something inside me didn’t seem to like the idea, but why, or if it was even really there I wasn’t sure.
Sara watched me struggle for the words, then took pity on me. “Well, thanks for the offer, but I’ll do fine on my own for now.” She pretended to wag a finger at me. “And no changing my mind! If your master wants me, He has to deal with me himself!”
“Ok. I’ll tell Him.” He’d be able to figure out how serious she was anyway. And what she was talking about.
“You’re something else, you know that? How long have you two been together?”
I counted it up in my head. “About three months now.”
She just shook her head. “And you had no clue you were submissive before that?”
I’d thought about that a few times. Not recently, but early on, as I’d tried to decide if this was really what I wanted. “I was always good at taking orders, and my best friends were those who liked to take charge of whatever we were doing, but I can’t say there was anything I noticed. Of course, I’d never really given it much thought: The idea of... Well, being what I am, just wasn’t something I’d ever run across. I was supposed to grow up, get good grades, go to college, get a husband, have a couple of kids, and go to church on Sundays. Probably run a youth group or something.”
“And instead...”
“David had a better idea.” I grinned. She laughed, then caught someone entering out of the corner of her eye.
“Got to run. Later!” She headed to her next client, and I finished my workout.
David just chuckled when I told Him about my conversation. And told me to take her instruction to mean ‘no seducing’. Friends only.
He said He wouldn’t go after her either. The relaxation I felt at that news might just have been the fact that He chose to follow that with a kiss.
Saturday afternoon...
Well, let’s start at the beginning, shall we? Which is really Friday night, on the phone, when David is giving me instructions.
“So, you know the general plan for tomorrow?”
“I go to the mall in the afternoon, we meet up. You’ll take me to a movie or something, probably dinner afterwards. It’s not a complex plan.”
I was teasing Him, and He knew it. “True. Even a hypnoslut should be able to manage that much. Probably.” He teased back.
“We’ll have to see on that.”
That got the laugh. “Anyway, I do have two instructions on what you are to wear: Wear a skirt, or dress, but no pants. And wear panties.”
I’d been wearing panties all week: I’d been looking forward to going without again. Oh well. I could probably get away with going without on Sunday.
“Anything else?”
“Nope. I want you to pick your outfit yourself. Like you would for any other first date.”
There was something in the way He said that... “What do you mean?”
“How do you usually pick your clothes for a first date?”
“I...” Memories came to my head: trying on outfit after outfit, trying to figure out which one was just right, which one would be perfect. “I have to work at it.”
“Exactly.”
“I thought You wanted my parents to think this was spur-of-the-moment.”
“No. I want them to think you want them to think it is spur-of-the-moment. So you’re going to agonize over your dress just like you would for any other first date.”
That was a command. I could feel it: it sunk into my mind, as an absolute. I was going to spend at least an hour tomorrow picking out my outfit, trying on alternatives, changing my mind, before finally deciding on what I wanted to wear. What would present just the right impression of sexy yet demure to the newest boy I wanted to impress.
I already knew what I’d decide on: He’d bought it for me Himself. I’d just been waiting for the right chance to wear it. I’d known this was the chance as soon as He said I needed a skirt.
But it was still going to take me at least an hour tomorrow.
“Ok. Anything else?”
“Not for the moment. For now... ‘Trance-time Rachel.’”
I drifted away immediately.
My mom looked in on me a couple of times while I was trying on outfits. I worried about whether the ‘schoolgirl’ outfit was sexy enough for David. (After all, the skirt reached almost to my knees!) I worried about whether it was demure enough for my parents. (Well, it did scream ‘I’m dressing up as a horny schoolgirl.’ At least it was the Hot-Topic version.)
Finally (an hour and twenty-six minutes) I decided it was ok. Sandals (with heels, of course) instead of pumps and socks meant I wasn’t wearing exactly the cliché outfit, and I’d made a few other modifications so it wouldn’t attract too much attention with my parents. Make-up took me longer than I’d expected: I realized I needed it exactly perfect too, and took extra care to make sure it looked like I wasn’t wearing any, but still looked as stunning as possible.
My mom smiled, when she thought I wasn’t looking. I think I’d gotten it right.
David’s initial reaction was worth it. He’d seen me in all kinds of sexy undress, but to see Him just stopped dead a moment, just looking at me as I walked up...
I wondered if He could think of a way to get us some privacy, while still playing up our roles.
It was mean of Him to make me wear panties, after all. He should help me take them off.
“That outfit’s not exactly politic, you know.”
Ok, that stumped me. “Huh?”
“We don’t really want your parents to think about the age difference if we can help it. Playing it up is a bit... well, incautious.”
He was laughing, slightly. “Did I do wrong?” Oh, god, if I’d spent all that time and picked the wrong outfit...
“Don’t worry. I like it. Just make sure you try to look ‘adult’ tomorrow.”
It wasn’t what He would have picked, in other words. So I did get it wrong. Just not seriously wrong.
“What should I have worn?”
He took His eyes off my body, to look me in the face. “Rachel, you did fine. I do love this outfit on you. It doesn’t give quite the right impression to your parents, but I didn’t tell you to pick an outfit to give an impression to your parents. I told you to pick an outfit to impress me, and you did. Maybe I should have given better instructions, but you followed the ones you were given perfectly, as far as I can tell.”
Ah.
Well, I could tell at least that David was enjoying the outfit.
“We could have You pick out a new one for me. But You might have to watch me: Make sure I put it on right...”
Well, I said it was mean of Him to make me wear panties.
He gave me a puzzled look for a moment, then seemed to get my point, and laughed. “No, the point today is to be seen. Horny little slut.”
I beamed at the compliment.
“Come on: To that end, we should mingle a bit. Look around for a while.”
He had something planned. I could hear it in His voice. But He wasn’t ready to spring it on me just yet.
I could ask, but He was enjoying knowing something I didn’t.
We walked for a while, just wandering down the center of the mall. Looking in windows, making snarky comments, holding hands, just being a couple. It wasn’t ‘us’, really, but it wasn’t not us, really.
It was ‘us on display’, I guess.
I spent the time focused on Him, to the point where I didn’t even really realize where we were. Which probably was a help in the ‘lost in a daze of couple-ness’ thing David wanted us to project.
“So, what do you think of the view?” David gestured past the railing.
Technically, this was a three-story mall. There wasn’t much on the third level, and I’m not sure I’d ever been up there before, but that’s where we were, and on the end where there weren’t any shops: just a few mall offices.
And a terrific view of the people below.
“I... Wow.” It’s odd how you never really look at crowds, or how things are set up. There was the fountain in the center of the mall, and the two levels of walkways radiating from it, with the stalls and storefronts, and the people...
I’d never realized how many people there were in the area.
It was beautiful in it’s own way. The way the groups merged and split, the way you could follow one person as they shopped, or met friends, or lovers...
“Yeah. I like to come up here and watch people sometimes. Just see the flow.”
My mind decided to flip to working out what everyone was doing: trying to track as many people as possible at once, working out what they were going to be doing next, what they wanted, where the crowds would form, where the bottlenecks would be...
I turned away sharply.
“What’s up?”
“I... I just tried to track everyone: I’m not sure why. It was giving me a headache.”
You wouldn’t believe the happy grin that broke out on His face. And He started laughing in delight.
“Great. I’ve got a boyfriend who can make me do anything He wants, and He’s laughing at my headaches.” I pretended to grumble.
He laughed harder, as was my intent. Then He gathered me into His arms, and kissed my hair. “I’ve always had trouble explaining why I didn’t like crowds. Don’t worry: It’s not hard to learn filters for that. And it has advantages: If you can predict where the crowd is going to be, you can walk someplace else.”
This was planned?
“Come on. I’ve got a way to make it up to you. Or at least, distract you...”