part0025

Accepting that bondage and submission was a part of who she was made staying in Vanessa’s compound a fast-paced experienced for someone named Mitch.

Oh, their nights and occasional afternoons together were agonizingly slow in all the best ways, since Vanessa always took her time to thoroughly give Mitch what she craved, and Mitch never failed to appreciate a single second of it. Whether her hands were tied above her head, body dangling from a rafter she could barely see in the dark of Vanessa’s room, or buried her face in her mistress’s body… she could choke for air and still thank her stars that this was how she discovered this side of herself.

Vanessa warned her that she needed to take time for herself. Read books. Socialize with others. Go outside and exercise. “Think of what you’ll spend my money on, my dear,” she had texted one morning, when Mitch asked if they could replay the Pet in the Office and Vanessa unfortunately had to turn her down. “I will be your whole world when we’re together, but when we’re apart, you must keep building your own.”

Mitch knew what that meant. Don’t become a codependent bitch. Nobody liked one. Certainly not women like Vanessa, who went through a new girl every other month. She’s right, though. I have to be careful. Mitch explored this dormant side of herself with someone who was both hot and experienced enough to make it the most memorable month of her life. Hormones raced and brain chemistry was altered, for better or worse. Mitch no longer thought about phrases like “Stockholm syndrome” and instead contemplated “needy bitch.” She couldn’t afford to become the needy girlfriend who soon became the crazy ex-girlfriend who couldn’t move on. That was embarrassing, not to mention something she couldn’t take home with her.

What was Mitch to do when this was over? Every day was a new awakening. She discovered sex acts she barely knew about, let alone had time to consider for herself. Vanessa was the only woman on Earth who could suggest face-sitting and Mitch would jump in mouth-first with little regard for her own personal safety. That was put into Vanessa’s hands. The woman always knew when to pull back, and she always piled on the after-care in the form of hot baths, massages, and cuddles full of soft-spoken words of affirmation. Seemed only fair after Mitch spent whole days blowing up her mistress’s ego via text and voice.

She became more emblazoned the longer they were together. As one week turned into two, then three, Mitch didn’t think twice about asking for a Polaroid camera and taking dirty pictures of herself when she spent lonely nights away from Vanessa. When her mistress retreated from intimacy for a day and a half to deal with her monthly malady, Mitch took care of her own needs and ensured her mistress had plenty of pictures to keep her company. Mitch gave her no warning that a manila envelope full of pornography would soon slide beneath the door to her chambers, addressed to, The Mistress of the House.

Vanessa sent back a simple token. A scarf she had used to bind Mitch’s hands together when it was time for her treats. The fabric was imbued with Vanessa’s favorite perfume, and Mitch didn’t hesitate to drape it across the other pillow on her bed. She enjoyed the scent filling her nostrils as she drifted off to sleep. It was like having Vanessa there. I can almost feel her body heat.

She knew it wasn’t the healthiest thing in the world. BDSM was turning into a coping mechanism that could take her too deep into something she never again pulled out of, and there was a life beyond Vanessa and her compound. Although it was often pushed to the background of her thoughts, she never forgot her mother or siblings counting on her to bring money home. With Vanessa dealing with something serious enough to make her live in this house and keep her identity locked away, it was unreasonable to assume Mitch could ever have a life with her that still included her own family. If I moved in here with her, would I ever see my family again? They wouldn’t be allowed to know about Vanessa. They didn’t even know where Mitch was now!

Those were the moments when Mitch rolled over and reminded herself that this was temporary. She and Vanessa could not be together for the long-term. Maybe they’d extend their tryst, but that was it. Not that the topic ever came up. Vanessa was quick to dive right into scenes when they weren’t eating or she was working. Mitch went along with it, because she was a fool for how good it felt.

The mystery behind Vanessa’s identity and her reasons for staying locked up in the countryside continued to haunt Mitch. Her few attempts to get some answers out of Luke or Chantelle always proved fruitless. Her runs with Luke were blessedly silent, and when they did talk about anything, it was usually stories from the military or tales of their childhoods. Mitch learned more about New Mexico than she ever thought possible. In return, she regaled him with the juicier bits of working in a heavy metal concert venue. He lived for stories of hopped-up death grunters jumping into crowds and the metalheads parting way for little kids at their first concerts – as long as they had their earplugs.

They didn’t only go for runs and bump into each other in hallways, however. They sometimes spent his lunch breaks in one of many studies, where a chess board was always available. One key feature that helped them bond as vets was learning that they both took up the hobby while serving abroad.

“I’m not sure what your strategy is,” he muttered, stroking his chin as he surveyed the board, “but you’ve taken out all of my pawns.”

“Astute observation. Was afraid you wouldn’t notice.”

“Oh, I noticed. Like I’ve noticed you staring at my queen like she’s about to get taken out.” He moved his rook between his queen and Mitch’s bishop. “I don’t think so.”

Mitch knocked over his rook. “What are you going to do now?”

After another moment of contemplation, Luke eventually moved his queen closer to his king. “Your move, Cruise.”

“I’m thinking, all right? Takes a lot to knock out the queen of the castle.” She glanced around the room. I know damn well who the queen of this castle is. She had called Vanessa all sorts of deferential titles in the past three weeks. Nothing like screaming that Vanessa was the greatest lady in the history of time while heavy nipple clamps hung from Mitch’s breasts and a paddle spanked her between the legs. She had come so hard that Vanessa bemoaned the loss of a perfectly good paddle because, “You drenched it beyond repair.” “You know, Vanessa told me something pretty interesting.” She said that after looking around the study and ensuring they were the only ones there. Them and what was left of Luke’s lunch.

“Oh?” He sat back in his chair, hands folding across his lap. “I can only imagine. Is it about me? I bet it’s about me.”

Mitch had an opportunity to blow smoke up his ass, but didn’t take it. “She says she lives way out here because there are people who don’t like her. Is she in danger, or something?”

Vanessa had never said such a thing, of course, but between the overheard whispers, the note from Sherman Smith, and her own intuition, Mitch had figured out enough. She’s hiding from someone. Or many someones. She didn’t know more than that, and it was killing her.

“I don’t share anything like that.” Luke’s affable demeanor was quickly fading away. Had Mitch struck a nerve? “All you need to know is that she’s perfectly safe here. I’m paid to watch over her in this house, so that’s what I do.” His grin was meant to detract Mitch from her thoughts, but it didn’t work. “And make sure everyone stays in line around here. When you work for a reclusive billionaire, trust me, you do as you’re told.”

“Seems like it would be hard to do, especially as a young married man.”

“Young? You flatter me.” That was all he said about that in particular. “Chantelle and I aren’t the family types. That’s something new agreed on when we got married, so I’m not worried about living out here with her while we save up money for our early retirements. We’ve got plenty of time to be annoyed by the world. Not like we don’t take vacations away from…” He shut his mouth. He probably shouldn’t have been talking about when and for how long he was away from the house, even to someone like Mitch.

“You don’t want kids?”

“What kind of question is that?” He snorted. “Not really. My wife’s idea, though, and I realized I can go along with it. I won’t share what’s going on in her family, but let’s say there are some genetic issues she’s not in the mood to pass down to any kids of ours. Not like I think I’d be some hotshot dad, either.” A shrug brought him closer to his leftover lunch. He sampled the crust from a sandwich and wiped his fingers on a well-used napkin. “My dad was a military man, too. It was his idea for me to enlist fresh out of high school, and while I don’t regret it, I don’t really want to turn into that kind of dad. You get me, right?”

“I suppose.” There were other vets in her family, although Mitch was the only one in her nuclear home that had ever served. Her grandfather was the most recent direct ancestor, but an uncle who was a former Marine suggested that branch to her when she mulled over her options. “If you learn Arabic,” he had said, “you’ll get promoted so fast you won’t be able to catch up to what rank you’ve got at any moment.”

He had been right to some extent, except he had forgotten how being a woman hindered some of that for Mitch.

“I also don’t really regret it,” she soon said. “Even with the crap I went through. It’s a part of me now. No point dwelling on the past when I can’t change it anyway. What’s the point of regret, other than to make me feel like shit?”

“Good way to think. Now, are you going to make your move, or not?”

Mitch reached for one of her pawns, but soon said, “Answer me one simple question.”

Luke narrowed his brows. “Depends. You realize I’m under the weight of a million NDAs, right?”

“What happened to the rest of Vanessa’s family?” She had seen photos of a childlike Vanessa with grown men, ones friendly enough – and familiar enough – to be blood kin. Those photos were in her office instead of her room, a firm reminder that Mitch was one of the few to gain admittance to that sacred abode. She also lets me sit in there long enough to stare at photos of her and the supposed family. “Are her parents dead?”

“Look, if she won’t tell you that herself…”

“I’ve never asked.”

“So why the hell are you asking me?”

“I’m trying to figure some stuff out about her, that’s all.”

Mitch didn’t think he was going to say anything. Then, “She’s estranged from her mother. Her father passed away a very long time ago. That’s all you need to know.”

“She has no siblings?”

“None that I know of, and I would know.”

Mitch dropped the subject there. Her father’s dead. The man in most of the pictures. A man who held a dolled-up little girl in his lap, held her up with a smile on his face, and helped her blow out birthday candles. Vanessa had never mentioned him, nor did she show up in any more recent photos, not that Vanessa had many. I wonder what happened to him. From the somber way everyone addressed him, Mitch had a sinking suspicion that he met a violent end.

Self-inflicted? Or… murder?

“Who’s Sherman Smith?”

Luke almost knocked over the pieces on the chess board when he dropped another crust piece. “What the hell? Are you snooping through my mail?”

“I’ve seen his name here and there.”

“It’s none of your business.”

Interesting. Mitch may have antagonized her best friend in this house outside of Vanessa, but she had acquired more than a little food for thought. She took those thoughts with her back to her room, where she turned on the TV and dove into more of the books she had borrowed from Vanessa’s personal library. Some of them were non-fiction memories and advice books about the BDSM lifestyle. Others were naughty romance novels that looked at such things through rose-tinted glasses. The non-fiction was informative. The novels – including the ones that contained men in active, sexual roles – turned her on more often than not.

Yet until she met up with Vanessa for dinner, she didn’t get too attached to the idea of staying in the house or securing more fun for the foreseeable future. Mitch was scheduled to drive back home in a week and a half. Her time with Vanessa was coming to an end. That was something she had to deal with, both mentally and physically.

Mitch spent the next two days mulling over the types of things that ate away at her brain. How would she approach her love life after this? Would she find the kind of therapy she needed beyond these walls? Would she move on from how Vanessa made her feel every time they were together, and the need to give her whatever she wanted bloomed? What did Vanessa endure that kept her from living a normal life? Why couldn’t she move back to the city? She didn’t seem like an agoraphobic recluse. Was someone out to hurt her? Was that what Sherman Smith really meant, or was it hyperbole? Why did everyone dance around Vanessa?

Why did she hide her face?

“I’ll give you whatever you want, precious.” Vanessa cupped her hand beneath Mitch’s chin and brought their lips closer together. The bathwater they shared splashed over the side of the tub and rushed toward the drain in the bathroom floor. Their hands had searched for each other’s intimate places more than once already, but Mitch had to say this current pose incited her loins the most. “Tell me what it is you want. Do you want me to personally build your family that house? Do you want me to set up trust funds for your brothers and sister? Or do you want me to fuck you so hard you think you’ve somehow earned those favors the old-fashioned way?”

Mitch almost swallowed her tongue when she spoke what was in her heart of hearts. “I want to see your face, Mistress.”

Even now, in this humid bathroom where they were otherwise naked together, the lights were dimmed and Vanessa wore an elaborate Venetian mask Mitch could never hope to penetrate with her glazed-over eyes. She could only imagine what Vanessa was thinking. Did I overstep my bounds? Mitch rather hoped she had. Sometimes the way she “punished” Mitch for her insubordination was better than the rewards, although Mitch was very reward minded. She lived for those moments when Vanessa’s face lit up with appreciation that her pet had done exactly as told. Vanessa had mentioned her favorite part about being a Domme wasn’t giving orders, but having them followed. It took Mitch a few days to grasp what that really meant.

One of Vanessa’s only hard and fast rules was that Mitch wasn’t allowed to see her face. Asking to see it… well, wasn’t that going against an order? That was bound to make her unhappy.

“Why do you want to see my face so badly?” Vanessa coolly asked, her arm tightening around Mitch’s shoulders. “What if I told you it’s not as pretty as you might be imagining?”

“What you look like doesn’t matter to me.”

“So why do you want to see my face?”

“Because I want to know what you look like. That doesn’t mean your appearance changes my opinion of you.” Mitch curled her arms over the side of the tub, chin resting upon the rim. “Is it so strange to want to know you like that?”

“You know it’s not allowed.”

Why? Before Mitch got to know Vanessa, and before the whispers that someone might be trying to hurt her, Mitch assumed it was part of Vanessa’s kink. She was the shadowy Domme who was nothing more than a hot fantasy for one lucky girl every other month. A queenly figure that rocked a lovely girl to sleep with promises of domination and submission.

She didn’t think it was all kink now. Perhaps Vanessa incorporated it into her love life, but it wasn’t born from it.

She was hiding, not concealing.

“I think it’s perfectly reasonable, my dear,” Vanessa said. “I’m sorry that it’s the one thing I cannot give you.”

Mitch expected a few firm words to get her back in line, but Vanessa was silent as she rubbed her upper lip, as if she contemplated the depths of their bubbly bathwater. “It would be dangerous,” she finally said.

Lifting her head from the rim of the tub, Mitch said, “Are you hiding from somebody?”

That was the question that brought a deafening silence to the bathroom, although sloshing water and the faraway notes of soothing piano music serenaded them. Yet Vanessa’s silence spoke a thousand words, long before she said, “If you keep asking me questions, I’ll have to punish you. Is that what you really want, my pet? For me to smack your bottom so hard that you’ll see stars?”

Yes. But not like that. Mitch didn’t want to feel Vanessa’s frustration in the pain that soothed her soul. She wanted to feel love, adoration, and vindication.

The mood had been ruined, however. Vanessa didn’t ask her lover to pick something else. She merely unplugged the bath, asked Mitch to dry her off, and took her into the bedroom where she bent her over the bed and paddled her until she came.

“That’s certainly something.” Erica said over the private deep web chat. “You’ve never done those things before? I can’t say it was ever my thing. Nor can I imagine my girlfriend agreeing to walking around on all fours with a leash in my hand.”

Vanessa refrained from laughing. She had a spare hour to chat that morning, but she never knew when Maria or Chantelle might enter. Chantelle didn’t know that her boss sometimes spoke with likeminded women over the deep web. She didn’t mind Erica, but she preferred that Vanessa keep those communications to cell phones. Chantelle professed that it was easier to guard and scramble those signals than the internet’s.

“She is not someone I expected it from,” Vanessa wrote, fondly remembering the look on Mitch’s face when she tugged on her leash to get them moving again. “I mean, I knew there was something special about her when I invited her here. I didn’t know about her trauma, though. My security failed to fill me in on what happened when she was deployed overseas.”

“I know.” Vanessa most certainly knew that. Personally. “Indulging the dark side of your memories and regaining control over how you feel…”

“I’m sorry to bring that up.” Erica was one of the few people who knew about Vanessa’s father, let alone her uncle and cousin. She had confessed it long ago, perhaps too soon. But there was something to be said for having a friend she could confide to… because her security did not count. “Do you think it’s serious with this woman?”

Vanessa struggled to think of something to type. Every word she wrote was promptly backspaced into oblivion. Eventually, she picked up her phone and dialed “E” from the contacts’ list. She waited five rings before assuming she was about to go to Erica’s voicemail.

“Good Lord,” came a harried voice, as if Erica had run half a long city block. “I was in a conference presentation.”

“Oh… but you were chatting online…”

“Yes, while my assistant took the notes.” Erica cleared her throat. “What couldn’t you type online?”

Embarrassment made Vanessa think of all the times she was chastised for compromising her own safety. It wasn’t easy to embarrass her, of course, but Chantelle in particular knew how to get right to her soul. When her own life was on the line? Vanessa couldn’t be careless. That’s why she paid hundreds of thousands a year to the best husband and wife team in the world. I help them with their investments, too! Vanessa refused to run their actual portfolios, but she gave both Luke and Chantelle advice about what looked hot and what was about to take a nosedive. She was rarely wrong, but she always worried she’d screw over the wrong person like her father had.

“I’m sorry for interrupting you. I… I don’t know what to do. How did you know that your girlfriend was the right one for you?” Erica had lived a secretive life much like Vanessa’s, except for not existing, she had lived life as a man – and it could have ruined everything she built for her company if the truth came out at the wrong time. Apparently, meeting the new love of her life had prompted her to come out as not only a woman, but a lesbian.

If anyone could give Vanessa advice right now, it was Erica.

“I was attracted to her from the beginning, of course,” she began. “And it was obnoxiously mutual. I tried playing boyfriend, but I won’t ever get over what happened with my ex.” She must have meant the woman she fooled for literally years before finally confessing the truth and losing her. When Erica and Vanessa first met, it was in the wake of those awful days. Natalie, Erica’s current long-term girlfriend, was the first actual lover since then. If she can make it work, why can’t I? “So she found out, and she didn’t want to break up with me. It was… liberating.”

Vanessa thought about that for a second. She found out and didn’t leave… it was liberating? God, wouldn’t that be wonderful? If Mitch knew the whole truth and still wanted to be with her? Those past three weeks had been amazing enough as they were, but Vanessa knew they were about to reach the break it or make it point. Not only was Mitch supposed to go home in a week, but she didn’t know what she was getting into with Vanessa.

“She’s really attached to me now.” Vanessa wished she could say that with pride, like she would have if the other shoe weren’t about to drop. “I need to break it off with her now before she’s past the point of no return. Maybe help her set up with a new Domme back from wherever she’s from.” The mere thought of it made Vanessa jealous as hell, but she couldn’t let that leak into her voice now. “I’m afraid that if I ask her to stay with me, she’ll say yes. She’s in the honeymoon phase of being with me. What if…”

Another voice appeared on the other end of the line. Erica shooed them away before saying, “Tell her the truth about why you have to hide yourself away. She doesn’t have to know the details, but she can at least make a decision after that.”

“What if…” Vanessa could barely fathom it. “What if she decides to stay with me anyway?”

Erica chuckled. “Then congratulations. You have yourself a real girlfriend.”

If only it were that easy. Vanessa hung up a minute later and stared at the memo pad on her desk. If she decides to stay with me… then her life is on the line as well. And, maybe, her family’s.