Path of Least Resistance
discipline of desire is the background of character—John Locke
in God’s name
is it possible to get lost in a city composed around a road as
and famous as the Strip? James
Wilson wondered wearily, looking
up from the map
spread across the steering wheel. He glanced through
his windshield once again and
glared at the neon glow that seemed to
reflect in every direction off of the horizon.
Somewhere out there
was the Strip, his hotel room and the ten hours of sleep he so
desperately needed. The only small favor in the entire situation was
that House wasn’t
in the car with him, acidly asking if his sense
of humor had been removed along with his foreskin.
Vegas was rough
enough without House, and for a moment Wilson was grateful
had opted out of the yearly AMA convention as usual. He squinted at
phone, and realized the screen was dark. Great. He’d
carefully plugged his charger in
back at the hotel, then completely
forgotten to stick the phone onto it. What MORE
could go wrong? As
if in answer to his lament, the moment he turned the key in
ignition, nothing happened.
gave a noisy
sigh and closed his eyes; he opened them and tried again,
the key in the ignition. The dashboard lights came on, but the engine
stubbornly silent, and he glared at the steering wheel,
aware of the tension settling in
his temples, throbbing dully with
pain. He was tired, hungry, frustrated, lost and
generally fed up
with Las Vegas. As trips went, James Wilson was just about all
to appeal to
someone’s better nature—if anyone in this
one, Wilson thought dourly. He
climbed out of the rental and
locked it up, then looked up
and down the street. It was on the edge
of an older residential section, and the nearest
house stood out; an
imposing structure of dark brick set behind a wall. The gates
open, and for a moment as he stared at the house, Wilson thought of
family. The mansion had the same mansard roof and slightly
menacing look to it, and
the darkness of the night didn’t help. He
checked his watch, chagrined to see it was
walked up to the
huge double doors, his shoes crunching on the gravel. Faint
reached him, trickling down from the upper windows. Music, and odd
sounds . . . He stepped up on the porch and in the dim
light pushed the elaborate
doorbell, half-expecting the foghorn. The
low exotic chimes that rang out helped him
relax a little—until a
soft scream sounded out. Wilson looked up, concerned, and
back down as the door opened wide.
outlined in the light of the doorway was in a word,
Regal and serene, she stood with one hand on the knob, taking Wilson
in with one long,
careful gaze before starting to smile. Carefully
brings you to the Dominion tonight, Doctor?”
I’m sorry. My
car broke down just there on the street and I was hoping I
borrow a phone to call a taxi and a tow truck—“
not sure where to look,
and feeling that his necktie was suddenly too
tight. The woman was dressed in a sari of
gauzy black silk, and he
suspected the moon motif embroidery shot through it was
silver thread. The bangles on her wrists and the hoops in her ears
silver as well, but the hot bloom of glistening red on her
amazing mouth was as exotic
as a hibiscus.
replied, not moving yet, her dark eyes holding a sudden small spark
of something Wilson thought he recognized as mischief. Mentally
shaking the absurd
notion off, he stepped in, and realization hit him
precisely at the moment he noticed the
austere décor of the
was in a dangerous
Wilson wavered, the fight or flight instinct moving through his
blinked, but before he could do or say anything, the woman
held out her hand, palm
call me Lady
Heather and this is my Dominion. I assure you that you’re
safe, Doctor Wilson.”
do you—“ he
trailed off, looking down and seeing his convention badge
pinned, crookedly to his jacket. With an embarrassed chuff, he
reached out one hand to
her and with the other unpinned the tag,
stuffing it in his pocket with more force than
position of her hand encouraged him to cup his own under it, and
did so without thinking. Lady Heather gave a tiny smile of approval.
first lost one to reach my doors and you won’t be the last.
comes here by compulsion the first time.”
me get this straight—this IS a . . .” Wilson
the first term that came to mind seemed unduly harsh, so he
shifted gears. “ . . . brothel, correct?”
seemed to amuse
Lady Heather; she hadn’t pulled her hand back and it was
against his fingertips.
legal only in a few counties of Nevada, and Clarke is not one of
Here at the Dominion we cater to the client’s emotional and
psychological hungers over
his physical ones. It’s a common mistake
this isn’t a
brothel, it’s . . . a dungeon.” Wilson corrected
surreal. If he didn’t have a headache and tense shoulders
to remind him he was actually
awake this could all be a bizarre
dream. Lady Heather gently lifted her hand off of his
and gave a tiny
suppose that label
is as good as any for the Dominion, although I regret the negative
implications it brings to mind.” As if to tease her, another
cry rang out, a ragged
sound tinged with pleasure. Wilson fought his
urge to swallow and tried to assume a sophisticated expression while
Lady Heather’s smile widened.
manners Doctor Wilson. This way to the phone.”
saying she turned
gracefully and indicated the stairs; Wilson followed her up
casting dubious, yet interested looks around. So far the
was unobtrusive; good
wood paneling and Victorian furniture, nothing
out of place or erotically interesting.
When they reached the
landing, Wilson noticed the carpet underfoot was much thicker,
muffling his steps. Among
other things, he thought.
him into a small, almost cozy room; Wilson realized it was a
converted bedroom, without the most obvious piece of furniture. She
gestured to the
elegant phone on the little table. “Feel free to
use directory assistance if you need it,
Doctor Wilson. I have a
small matter to attend to, but I’ll return shortly.”
nodded and dug in
his breast pocked for his wallet, hoping he’d packed his
card and wondering if it was weird to want to call Julie, just for
the thrill of knowing he’d
done so from an S and M parlor.
rental company got
to his call after nearly twenty minutes on hold; Wilson
full apology and the promise of an upgraded model in the morning. The
sounding clerk added that they’d reimburse cab fare
well and transferred him to their associate cab company. They
regretfully gave him a ninety-minute wait time,
citing three big
conventions in town.
sighed and hung
up. Just as he moved to the door, it opened and an elegant
feline grace greeted him, her white teeth dazzling in contrast to her
Lydia. Lady Heather invites you to join her in the lunarium while
wait for your ride.”
paused for a
moment, then nodded; what choice did he have, really? Sitting
in the dark, dead Camry had no appeal, and from the sound of it, none
other cab companies would be any quicker.
yes, that would
be fine,” he told Lydia, who nodded as she played along with
idea that he had a choice here. Wilson followed the girl, who was
barefoot and dressed
in a pale pink cat suit. She led him back to the
stairs and towards the back of the
mansion. Wilson followed a little
uncertainly, hearing echoes of voices and sounds he
wasn’t sure he
wanted to identify.
watched the girl
ahead of him, admiring her curvy bottom through the thin
wishing House was here to share the adventure, short as it was
probably going to
turn out to be. Greg would
pretend to be all
OVER this place, Wilson chuckled
himself, but he’d be
uncomfortable. He talks the talk but let’s face it--his
lunarium was on the
ground floor; an airy room of tinted glass walls with a
opened onto the night sky. The furniture carried the moon motif
further; dark blue
with silver stars on jacquard fabric. Wilson
fought to look casual, but it wasn’t
have run several thousand dollars by the look of it. Lady Heather
she glanced up from her sofa, and gestured to the coffee
table where a tray of exotic
cheeses and a bottle of wine stood,
alongside two exquisite crystal glasses.
alcohol. It might not cure your headache, but it’s bound to
offered. Wilson managed a smile, wondering how she’d known he
was in pain.
have to . . . not the standard prescription, but I appreciate the
sat on the same
long sofa, and Lady Heather deftly scooped Brie onto delicate
crackers while Wilson decanted the bottle. He noted it was a
Chardonnay with a rich
ruby tint that reminded him of her lipstick
and after Wilson poured he politely offered her
the first glass.
vintage—I’m no expert but I’ve had this
before.” He told her.
fortunate. I have my favorites, and this is definitely among
replied, lifting her glass in a gentle toast.
a while they ate
and talked. Wilson relaxed a little; it wasn’t every day he
with a dominatrix in her parlor and enjoyed a great glass of wine.
Lady Heather asked him all
the easy, casual questions and he found
himself having a good time answering them.
Their discussion meandered
through art and books, around travels and hobbies. Lady
Heather was a
charming conversationalist, and after an hour, Wilson realized that
odd little interlude was the highlight so far of his entire trip
to Las Vegas. His headache
had faded along with his appetite, and he
found he didn’t want to head back to the cold
dark hotel room very
if sensing his mood,
Lady Heather shot him a sympathetic look and poured another
wine for them both. “I’ll confess I’m
rather glad the
hasn’t arrived yet. Yours
has been the best company I’ve had in
quite a long time, James.”
you’re the one with the phone, wine and cheese.”
hosting comes naturally to me—“ she dimpled, and
along with her as he drank another mouthful of wine.
now comes the
did a nice
girl like me get into the business of catering to men’s
Lady Heather finished smoothly, leaning back on her end of the sofa
and shrugging. “Call it a coincidence. Several years back I
lovely older man in Europe who was quite
well versed in . . .
alternative lifestyles. He told me I had the makings of a first
Dominatrix, and asked if I was interested in learning how to be one.
I thought it was a
joke—“ Lady Heather smiled at the memory, as
Wilson watched her, “But he was quite
serious. I ended up spending
almost three years learning from several of the best on
the idea utterly fascinated him. Fleetingly he thought of
on whips, and classes in knot-tying. Seeing his expression she
in the formal
sense—more of a work-study program. Very . . . hands
that he was doing so, and equally aware that she saw it too.
cleared his throat a little uneasily. “To be sure. Obviously
were a good student.”
of my class.
Generally top of everything,” Lady Heather admitted with a
smile. “Good taste is worth the maintenance, and
the satisfaction of a
man well handled.”
nearly choked on
his wine; Lady Heather toyed with hers a moment, her
speculative. “Tell me, James, would you have even walked onto
you’d known what this place was?”
a long moment
Wilson considered the question, staring into his wineglass as
brows drew together. Very slowly, he shrugged.
. . . not.”
He admitted. “I don’t consider myself overly
again, I don’t find pain very erotic.”
. . . “ Lady
Heather agreed, turning those pellucid eyes to him. “In your
I’m sure you’ve seen far too much real pain to
consider the games played here to be interesting.”
fell silent, and
Wilson hoped he hadn’t offended her. He cleared his throat
moment. “That’s not to say some parts
aren’t . . .
After three marriages I’m not
without SOME experience in . .
face felt hot, and
Wilson wondered how much the wine was affecting him. Lady
tipped her head, wordlessly inviting him to continue his line of
thought. He took
a breath. “The . . . sorts of things married
people choose to do . . . “
she teased. “A romp in the kitchen, or the den.”
fun of me—“ Wilson protested, but through a smile.
shook her head. Overhead, the patter of sudden rain suserrated
against the lunarium
trust is the first step in exploring ourselves. And when you
someone enough to play with them—be it in a bedroom or a
you’re halfway there. My clients are the ones who
don’t have that either that connection,
or that sense of trust.”
they still want
to play.” Wilson pointed out. She nodded.
want to; a few
genuinely NEED to. I won’t claim that the Dominion is a
service, or that everything here is done for altruistic reasons,
James, but in truth, my
employees and I do provide an alternative for
men and women who seek the opportunity
to explore their sensuality.
I’m not ashamed of that.”
Wilson responded automatically. He set his glass down and
her, his smile a half-quirk as he did so, his bangs falling into his
eyes. “As you said,
it’s a better alternative than being . . .
unhappy, or . . . unfulfilled.”
words hung in the
air between them, weighted slightly. Lady Heather understood.
that moment a soft
knock on the lunarium door broke the mood; Lady Heather
taxi is here for
your guest, my lady.”
Lady Heather rose gracefully. Wilson followed, feeling lighter.
followed her out of the lunarium. When they reached the front doors
of the Dominion,
the cold gust of wind blew through the foyer; the
taxi stood beyond the iron gates in the
rain. Lady Heather reached
beside the door to the umbrella stand.
take it and
stay dry,” she murmured. Wilson hesitated, but the rain was
down harder, and without it, he would be soaked before reaching the
taxi. He took the
umbrella, his fingers brushing hers.
been an interesting evening. A very good one—“ he
quick smile. Lady Heather smiled as well, and the wind made her sari
float around her
it has. And
perhaps you’ll be back sometime, Doctor James Wilson. I would
that a great deal. Good night.” She reached out and
his tie gently, then
watched him step out and open the umbrella.
Carefully Wilson picked his way around a
few puddles in the gravel.
When she shut the door, she took a moment to lean against it
think about the last hour.
smiled to herself.
the next two days,
Wilson focused his concentration on the panels and
the convention. He took notes, caught up with colleagues,
boozed and cruised, as the saying went. He kept himself as busy as
possible, and yet
every time he caught a glimpse of the umbrella
sitting on the dresser in his hotel room,
a little pang went through
really ought to return that.
matter, knowing deep down that it was a convenient excuse to go
to the Dominion. He could always mail the umbrella, or send it via
UPS. He could
forget about it, leave it in the hotel room when he
checked out. It wasn’t a particularly
fancy umbrella; just a black
folding men’s umbrella with a wooden handle.
. . . he realized
he enjoyed toying with the option it provided to return. And
late on the last night of the conference, when far too many of his
peers were determined
to drink each other under the buffet tables or
lose second mortgages at the craps tables,
Wilson found himself
flagging a taxi and muttering the address he’d memorized from
driver raised an
eyebrow but said nothing. Wilson sat back in the shabby
and closed his eyes, preparing himself to be disappointed. Various
scenarios crossed his
She’ll be busy.
She’ll have the night off. She’ll take it and send
me on my
She won’t remember me at all . . .
those warred with
other scenarios in his head. Wilson bit his bottom lip indulging
those darker images for a moment as well.
taxi pulled up much
sooner than he was expecting, and Wilson climbed out, eyeing
imposing mansion once more as he absently paid the driver. When the
off, he squared his shoulders and walked across the
gravel once more, feeling his palm
sweat against the handle of the
umbrella. He stepped up on the porch and looked down
at the little
squares of light shining through the frosted windows of the door,
could leave it
right here. Wilson reasoned,
knowing he meant more than just
umbrella. For a moment he considered just propping it against the
door, no note, no explanation. He knew she’d pick it up and
with that beautiful mouth, accepting
what it meant.
problem was that he
couldn’t do it. The umbrella felt heavy in his hand.
in my life. I have a chance to do this.
Just once. Tomorrow it’s back to lab reports
and MRIs and
consultations. Back to the daily grind of my days but the difference
that I’ll KNOW if I really have this need within me.
not afraid of it. I’m afraid of never
finding out the truth.
the end of the umbrella to ring the bell. He waited a moment,
listening for approaching footsteps and when the door opened he
looked into a pair of
in. Lady Heather has been expecting you,” Lydia murmured
She opened the door wider, bowing a little and Wilson hesitated a
stepped inside the big foyer once again, feeling a sense
of déjà vu. Lydia turned with
the grace of a panther.
she led him once again towards the back of the mansion to the
lunarium. Wilson trailed behind her, feeling his pulse speed up,
hyperaware of his
not afraid. I’m just . . . alert.
they reached the
door, Lydia knocked softly. Receiving an affirmative sound,
opened it and ushered Wilson in; he stepped through as Lady Heather
rose from the
sofa, smiling softly as she set down a small
you. I . . .
brought your umbrella,” he added as Lydia quietly slipped out
closed the door. Lady Heather took it from him, her elegant fingers
stroking the nylon
folds gently. Wilson didn’t miss the symbolism
and fought his smirk.
one of my favorites. Wood handles are hard to find these
the matter,” Wilson admitted truthfully, and she laughed.
not. I have
a fondness for natural materials over manmade or synthetic
though. Silk over nylon, leather over Naugahyde, fur over
gesturing to the sofa. Wilson accepted her unspoken
invitation, drinking in the sight of
wore fur. A sleek
sable bustier laced with silver satin ribbon encased her
revealing glorious cleavage between the panels of silky fur. Her
floor length skirt rode
low on her beautiful hips, and was trimmed
with matching sable, the fur dark against her
pale skin. Lady Heather
wore short lace wrist length gloves, and tassel tails of
from her shoulders. Her lipstick was darker, rich plum on her
incorrect—“ Wilson pointed out regretfully. Lady
is managing a
fetish den, and yet somehow it works for me. Someone in society
to stand outside the norm.”
overrated. And too many of us spend our time looking beyond the
limits, wondering if being part of the status quo is worth
Wilson told her in a quiet voice.
Lady Heather nodded, but before she
could say anything more, a loud thumping noise
broke into the
conversation. Swiftly she rose, moving to the door, Wilson following
was only a few steps across the foyer to the main staircase,
and at the bottom of it, a
man lying on the tiled floor, clutching
his head. Someone hovered over him.
slipped on the
stairs—“ A petite girl in a fairy costume told Lady
“The last four, it wasn’t far—“
the first aid
kit. Lydia?” Lady Heather was already looking at the
Wilson cleared his throat. Moving carefully he dropped to one
knee and turned the
man’s head, checking the pupils. The man moaned
a little. Wilson fished a penlight out
of his breast pocket, flicking
it into each of the man’s eyes and noting the reactions.
concussion, but a
pretty hard knock to the temple. There’ll be some swelling,
he’ll need ice. Can you hear me?”
I fell, I
didn’t go deaf—“ the man groused, clearly
that and examined the bump along the right side of the man’s
face where the reddish
purple lump was rising fast. He shot a look of
thanks to Lydia and opened the case she
for you. Let’s
get this cleaned up and on ice. You’ll need to sit quietly
half an hour just to be on the safe side and then you can go.”
hell are YOU?” the man demanded, wincing as Wilson dabbed
with a disinfectant pad.
had ended well. The
client had been bandaged, consulted and sent on his way
Lady Heather had informed both her lawyer and insurance company of
incident, and now she and Wilson were back in the lunarium,
sharing glasses of dry
sherry and relaxing on the sofa. Clouds passed
overhead, filtering the light.
can’t thank you
enough for stepping in. It was very gracious of you James.
second debt I owe you.” She told him. He said nothing.
could ask. Now would be the time . . .
looked up as Lady
Heather caught his gaze and for a moment something clear and
passed between them; a glimmer of recognition and acknowledgement,
unspoken agreement. She rose up off the sofa and set her glass down.
do you trust
me?” she breathed, in a low, slow voice. He leaned forward,
his own glass on the coffee table a little more sharply than
completely sure why, but yes, I do trust you.” He replied in
low. There were implications in these words; he felt
them overlaid heavily on every word.
Lady Heather inclined her head.
you. I would
like to be worthy of that trust. I want to help you find out what
want to know, James.”
carefully, his pulse loud in his ears, “—what
is it I want to
want to know if you
can let go.” She replied calmly, in a tone of such
self-assurance that he could only blink. Very carefully she looked
him up and down as
she spoke again. “You, the concise, responsible,
cautious, reliable authority figure in
your own world want to know if
you can ever just . . . give it all up. Let someone else
responsibility. You want to taste freedom, James.”
nothing more and stood waiting for him. Wilson tightened his jaw
stood there for a long, long moment, feeling himself pulled between
the two impulses.
Finally, he gave a quick nod. She smiled.
And since this
is the case, I’m the one who CAN help you.”
spoke up, his
voice slightly choked, unused to the liberty of the
“How? How when I’m not even sure myself?
It’s not as
given this a lot of thought.”
she looked at him,
through him; Wilson felt Lady Heather reach out to take his
by step. Door
by door. Just as you would with anything new, James. Two
come first. I need your true answers for those first and
need you to be
completely honest with me. If you feel the need to slow down, or
stop, you must tell me so. You and only you will know your limits,
James. This must all
come from you.” She told him in a serious
voice. He nodded again, a quick, jerky
movement this time and she
squeezed his hand.
So if you need
release, say ‘umbrella’ and I’ll know. Do
tried to keep a straight face, but it was difficult. Lady Heather
Wilson cleared his throat. “Right.
And the second
question—this one is much more . . . complicated.
you to your marriage?”
his eyes widen,
Lady Heather continued. “Going through a session is a
experience, and despite the laws and vows we promise to follow, there
inevitable choices that present themselves. I want you going into
this with a clear
conscience. You need to consider all the
easiest part. I’m glad.
. . . in the
process of getting divorced.” He admitted, a flush on his
Wilson couldn’t tell if it was shame or
heated his face, but Lady Heather
didn’t smile. She gave a nod
herself and let go of his hand.
see. So in many
ways, this is the perfect time, and the perfect opportunity to
inward and find an answer to your question.”
breathless pause. Wilson pursed his mouth.
thought of it that way, but—yes.”
Lady Heather DID smile, a rich and relaxed expression. “Are
willing to begin?”
took a deep
breath as jumbled images and arguments flashed through his mind:
schedules and information and memories and duties. He closed his
once in my life. Maybe the only once I’ll
bedroom was warm,
decorated in plush grey velvet the color of pale ashes.
candles stood on the fireplace mantel and on a few tables around the
shedding a golden light. Wilson glanced around as Lydia ushered
bathrobe when you are done. Take your time.”
left, closing the
door, and Wilson stood a moment, surveying the room. It was
than his hotel, he noted ironically. Moving in measured steps on the
soft carpet, he
circled around, getting used to the place, and
stopping at the foot of the bed, gazing at
not sure what I was expecting but this .
. . wasn’t it.
ordinary bed with a
heavy velvet bedspread in plush grey. Pretty, but not
by any means. Wilson noted that the silver metal frame extended on
end. The mattress was moderately firm when he pressed it.
Sighing, he walked into the adjoining bathroom and began to undress.
shower felt good;
the water was perfectly hot and loosened some of the tension
shoulders. His stomach remained slightly knotted, however, and he
stayed in longer
than he’d intended. When the water finally began
to cool Wilson knew he couldn’t put
off the moment any longer, and
stepped out, reaching for the towels. They were warm,
he dried himself, glancing in the mirror at his physique, his
Diary. Went to Las Vegas and took a shower
at an S & M parlor. They had hot
hung the towels up
neatly, and pulled on the bathrobe, enjoying the sensation of
heavy cotton terrycloth on his clean skin.
if the rest of
the evening is a bomb, at least the bathrobe’s nice—he
to himself. I wonder if they
have a gift shop?
was perfectly aware
that he was whistling in the dark and that despite all his
thoughts his body was still poised. Wilson brushed his teeth numbly,
and checking them once more in the mirror.
not a date. It’s more important than
that. Why the hell am I so . . . freaked?
stepped out into the
room, noting that a blaze was now glowing in the fireplace,
the faint sound of a violin sonata was playing softly in the
slow and lush. The carpet felt good under his
tyro,” he heard from behind him. Wilson fought the urge to
slowly turned to face the voice. His skin flushed hot then cold
in keen anticipation. Lady
Heather stood looking him over, her
the time Wilson had
showered, she’d changed; now she wore a catsuit of black
a filmy creation that covered her from palms to toes. The effect
against her pale skin
was undeniably erotic, and he felt himself
tense, blood surging south. Lady Heather
took a step forward.
are a very
intelligent man, James Wilson. I respect that you’ve used
get where you are in life. But tonight is not about
thinking, it’s about feeling.
Experiencing without the filters of
analysis or consideration or judgment. For you, there
will be only
one choice for the rest of the night. Stop, or keep going.”
blinked, feeling her
words brush his skin, shiver along his spine, swirl in his ear,
a whisper delivered so closely that it tickles. Wilson fought to hold
my lady.” She
hesitated, but she
wasn’t smiling, merely looking at him with those intensely
eyes. Finally Wilson nodded. “Yes my lady.”
was easy to say. One
corner of her mouth went up and she took another step forward,
reaching for the belt to his bathrobe. Wilson let her undo it, too
surprised to stop her.
Lady Heather let it fall open a bit, and
very word for you is . . . delectable.”
then found her hand tapping his mouth lightly as she made a
gesture against it. Lady Heather shook her head.
spoken to. Don’t worry, I’ll ask you many
purposes tonight, all you are going to do is feel. Now I want you to
taking a quick hard breath, trying hard to stay calm, but it
easy. He heard Lady Heather step closer, felt her breath on the back
of his neck just
above the collar of the robe. Wilson’s chest
flushed; his nipples hardened despite the
warmth of the room.
negotiate. I want to tie you down, James. Is that acceptable to
. . . would be
. . . uh . . . fine . . .” he managed in a shaky voice.
hands on his shoulders, kneading through the terrycloth. He
fought the thrill that flared
through his spine at that knowing
I thought it
would be. The first step to letting go is accepting discipline. So, I
tie you down, James. Securely, and safely. And after that . . .
what would you like?”
. . . don’t
very interested in your skin. You have such a fair complexion for
man, and I suspect you’ll respond very nicely to
Heather purred, delighted
to feel the square shoulders under her
fingers begin to relax. She loved the way the
damp hair at the nape
of his neck curled, and the clean scent of him.
Wilson admitted sheepishly. Lady Heather chuckled.
when I’m not gentle, I’m slow and
sucked in a
hard. She’s barely touching my
shoulders and I’m up. I can’t believe
James. Our bodies know things about ourselves before our minds
want you to lie down.”
over to the bed, but before he could pull the cover back, Lady
Heather clucked softly.
Lie on the
spread, face down. Leave your robe at the foot of the bed.”
grateful to pin his unruly dick out of sight, but self-conscious
be bare-assed, particularly in front of such a beautiful woman. He
tried to look over his
shoulder; Lady Heather caught his chin in her
You are very
tense, and you don’t need to be. Nothing happens without
so, James. Lie back. Lie still.”
did. After a moment,
he felt the touch of Lady Heather’s hands again, on
moving down his back in slow, light strokes. Wilson drank in the
focusing on the glide of those hands along his muscles.
I . . . good, so good . . .
watching carefully, and after a while she saw the signs; his
sigh, the general unclenching along his deltoids and jaw line. It
certainly wasn’t hard to
look at Wilson, but she hid her
appreciation of his trim form and firm ass. With a casual
ran her nails lightly over the back of his scalp through his baby
fine hair and
Wilson’s spine arched slightly with pleasure.
masseuse as well . . . “ He tried to make light of it.
chided, “I’m many things, James Wilson. We
play—“ He said nothing, focused on the light
scratch of her
nails at the back of his neck.
He gave another little sigh.
God this isn’t as weird as I assumed it would
be. It feels . . . amazingly nice--
time to go
through the next door. Roll over, Tyro. You may close your eyes if
wish.” She murmured, counting the seconds of his hesitation;
they stretched beyond
eight, she knew he wasn’t ready. The seconds
pulsed as Lady Heather watched
Wilson’s shoulders. A flex; a little
chuff of breath, and awkwardly, he turned, shifting his
tightly shut. He looked so beautifully vulnerable, pink with
the long lines of his frame curling slightly as he
settled on his back.
matching the melody of the sonata, and a small corner of his
I’m naked on a strange bed with a
beautiful woman who’s probably staring at me
and while I should be
disturbed by the understanding we’re not going to have sex,
not. I’m . . . fascinated.
Heather took a
long moment in the pleasure of just looking at him. Wilson had
dark chest hair that lay in graceful calligraphy across his sculpted
chest. He was
trim, without any extra weight, and she appreciated the
long lines of his arms and legs,
the dusting of hair on them light
and masculine. The ridge of glossy fur extended down
his chest to his
flat small navel and continued under it, thickening and growing
between his hips, forming a tangled bush around his semi-hard
shaft and over his balls.
made a low sound of
appreciation and sat on the edge of the bed. “So this is
you’ve been hiding under that button down Oxford shirt and
Nordstrom suit. How marvelous—“ Leaning forward,
again rested her fingers on Wilson’s fine
lips, stopping his
protest. “Shhhhhh. No speaking unless you need to use your
word. What is your safe word, darling James?”
murmured, a little dazed, finally opening his dark eyes. She
noting the sparkle in them, the look of mingled dread and delight
passing over his
aristocratic face. He was a natural—they were
rare, and always a special thrill to awaken
them to sensuality.
Carefully Lady Heather leaned over him, her long hair sliding
brush his shoulders.
you are; how very, very good. You take direction beautifully,
and for that you will be rewarded. But first, I must tie you down.
You need to put your
arms up over your head and grip the bars of the
headboard. Do that now, please.”
his arms up, fumbling a little to reach the bars. His fingers
around their cool surfaces, curling in a tight grip. Lady Heather
bent closer to his face,
her warm breath mingling with his.
next door. Are
reached up and beyond Wilson’s grip along the bars. As she
her chest brushed his face and he gasped at the touch of warm lace on
and cheeks, pliantly sheer lace barely restraining sweet
flesh that smelt of roses and
caught up was he in
the press of skin, Wilson barely noticed the wrap and click
his right wrist. When Lady Heather shifted, he turned his face, eager
to keep the
contact. She laughed, low in her throat.
man attuned to touch,” she commented, carefully fastening
second cuff around his left wrist. The restraints were padded and
plush, lined with fur.
The links connecting them to the bars of the
headboard were not since Lady Heather
knew the sound of the chains
clinking and rattling would enhance the experience.
sat back, pulling
away from him. Wilson watched her, his dark eyes wide. Lady
lifted her chin.
so now . . . you
mouth, but caught himself in time. His breathing was quick,
muscles along his arms tense. Lady Heather rose up off the mattress
and stood back to
admire the sight of him secured to the headboard,
lying supine on the grey plush
bedspread. Around them the music
pulsed softly, and the candles flickered.
tugged at his bonds, making the muscles of his flat stomach
Lady Heather walked slowly to the foot of the bed and gripped the
leaning over them to gaze at his body.
them all you
want, but they’ll hold, darling James. Until I unbuckle the
holding those cuffs, you’re powerless. Accept that. For the
and now, your body is
mine to play with, mine to touch and excite and
seduce.” Her eyes glittered and she
smiled naughtily, “I can’t
farther forward and let her fingers touch Wilson’s toes; he
slightly but she was proud of him when he didn’t shift his
foot. Lady Heather sent one
cool hand up the inside of his furry
shin, feeling the long muscles and tendons of his leg
fingers and palm. Wilson didn’t watch her stroke; instead he
back against the pillow and thrust his jaw forward, fighting
if she touches me THERE I’ll go off like a
rocket—please no, not so sooon--
used her other hand to stroke his other shin, her touch light.
skin is warm,
James, and you’re very aroused. Don’t worry. I
until you’re good and ready.” He tensed at her
looking down the length of his
body at her, blinking desperately. She
. . .” he whispered in an urgent croak. She shook her head,
gleaming in the candleglow.
no. And to make
sure—“ she reached down into the neckline of her
out a length of something dark from between her breasts.
Wilson stared, his forearms
flexing. Lady Heather took the leather
strap in her two hands and swiftly slipped it
around the thick base
of his cock, the soft scrunch of the Velcro almost blending in
the sonata. Wilson sucked in a surprised breath.
Yes, that will do it, ahh! Tight but not bad,
keep you from worrying about your pretty prick for a while. And it
very pretty, James, all flushed and filled like
caressed the thick veins along his shaft and before he could stop
Wilson gave a low groan of pleasure as he strained against the cuffs,
arching his hips
for now we
have to leave it alone. There are so many lovely places on your body
want to torment first.” she inquired lightly, climbing up on
bed near his left hip and
arching over his body. “Shall we play?”
Lady Heather’s proximity galvanized his skin;
Wilson licked his
lips and nodded.
can’t, I can’t more please more ohhh good,
so perfect, so damned—yessssssss
that right there, just so yes I-I-I---
gleam of sweat on
his body made Lady Heather smile. Wilson lay sprawled on the
flexing his fists as he dreamily closed his eyes. She ran the tiny
spikes across his
ribcage and down over his abdomen; in the
candlelight the Wartenburg wheel glistened.
for sensation, James. Utterly lost in what I’m doing to your
body here,” she cooed. “And you ARE hungry for
you? Prickles and tickles,
all over your naked skin. Tell me, what do
his temples damp, the faint shadow of beard beginning to show
his jaw line. Very slowly the words leaked out of him.
Mistress—“ Lady Heather corrected, pulling the
stomach. The loss of sensation made him twitch.
Mistress.” came his rapid echo, thick and dazed. Lady Heather
breath over his skin. She could see that Wilson was close to
overload; that his breathing
was erratic now and his nipples were
pebbled up and must be aching. She leaned down
and lightly traced her
tongue over his lips, enjoying the warm salt on the softness there.
You’ve been such a good, good man. But we have to stop for
You need to relax. You need something to drink.”
Don’t stop, please, don’t!
stared at her,
confused. Lady Heather pressed a kiss to his mouth, savoring
quick delicious taste as he obediently opened his lips to hers. No
hesitation, no self-consciousness now in James Wilson.
little water with
ginger in it, darling. To soothe your throat,” she urged,
the crystal goblet and cradling his head up so that he could
drink. Wilson swallowed the
water, blessing the cool sips sliding
down his throat.
that. Trembling. Ultimate stimulus/response.
This is the edge—fascinating. Naked,
cuffed and not the slightest
bit fazed by it now. Acclimation? Or acceptance? Don’t
you’ll choke. That’s NOT a sensation you
softly. She set the goblet on his flat stomach and the cool
bottom of the glass chilled his muscles. Wilson fought to hold still,
and she brushed his damp bangs back from his
forehead. Her gaze
traveled down his body in one long sweep.
lot of stimulation already, James. Feathers and fur, beads and
the wheel. So many sweet places on your elegant body respond to me:
the crooks of
your elbows, the insides of your knees, this sexy
little spot between your jaw and
shoulder . . .” Lady Heather
dipped her finger in the water glass, then touched the patch
under and behind his ear, letting the wetness seep against his hot
skin. Wilson bit
his lips and the water in the glass on his stomach
it’s time to
touch other places, James. Time to focus where you REALLY want
feel things, isn’t it?” She dropped a hand over his
want to be at my mercy
when I caress you . . . there. When I play
with your prick.”
. . .” his
nostrils flared; his eyes glittered brightly. Lady Heather laughed,
flirtatious, feminine note in her voice.
good can you be?
I’ll play with you, yes, I will . . . but I’m
on your stomach, James. Do. Not. Spill.”
shifted, kneeling between his spread knees on the end of the
running her hands along his thighs. Wilson tugged once more on his
careful not to flex his stomach.
can’t. Don’t move, she’ll stop if I spill
ohh, still, very stillllllll
cupped her fingers around his straining shaft, tenderly
searingly hot satin flesh of his cock. She stroked upwards, her nails
Wilson bit back a grunt.
want release so
much, too. So hard, so eager, James. It feels so alive in my
Would you like feathers or fur?”
several times, his hips beginning to rock forward and up, the
glass shaking very slightly.
. . .
blurted, “Please, ah, Mistress—“
her nose at him. Very slowly, she reached to the edge of the
picked up the long sleek tail of black mink. She dangled it over his
hip, letting the
cool fur glide on his skin, and down one thigh.
Wilson watched raptly, and she could
see the long cords of his
forearms straining against the cuffs again; his ribs hollowing
he drew in his breath. The goblet rocked a tiny bit.
darling.” She warned him, and then lassoed the sable in a
around his prick.
like this, the
soft sweet kiss of fur on your big cock, don’t you? Because,
James, under your lab coat and careful calm demeanor you DO
have animal drives.
Strong nasty urges that MUST be kept under
control. Well you are under MY control,
and if I want to let you
come, I will. Do you want that? Will you beg for a chance to
aching balls empty against my silky pretty fur?”
wet his lips.
darling hungry horny James? Please what?”
let me come—“
glossy fur noose and slid it up and down on his shaft, while
pulling off the Velcro ring that had held Wilson’s orgasm
thighs tensed; the
cords stood out on his throat while his hips
thrust up in a vain attempt to increase the
pleasured stroking of
that soft brush around his heavy cock.
goblet began to
fall; swiftly Heather pinned it with one hand, still moving the
loop snugly with the other with calm coordination. Wilson yanked on
his bonds, his
spine arching now, deep groans rising out of his
throat. His eyes were clamped shut and
his heels pushed down for more
leverage, more friction.
then there were no
words, just whitehot flashes going off behind his closed
creak of the bed and Wilson’s slow pleasured groans as his
pulsed, erupting in
a thick torrent that overflowed and cascaded down
over the snug sable loop around his
dick, splashing on his hips and
stomach. Lady Heather smiled, gently letting him slow
pleasure in seeing him so utterly caught up in his orgasm.
stopped, lying back against the bedspread, replete and quiet,
moved. Carefully she gripped the goblet, lifted it and poured the
rest of the cool water
over his still-turgid cock.
his long lean body tensing in a final spasm of nerve-tingling
didn’t let it get
awkward, and Wilson marveled at how easily Lady Heather did
Gently she uncuffed him, kissed his wrists and praised him, helped
him to the shower
and stepped in with him, keeping her arms around
his waist, steadying his clumsiness.
. . .” he kept
trying to speak; she kept shaking her head. In the steamy flow of
shower she looked like an exotic mermaid, big blue eyes crystal
bright, dark hair
plastered by the spray. The water soaked her
catsuit, made it fully transparent so she
braced him against the wall
and carefully took the soggy thing off, draping it over the
door before turning back to him and smiling.
Heather held out her arms, and Wilson slid into her hug,
as the water pounded down on the pair of them standing there, swaying
heat. They stood there for a long time, and finally she
reached behind him and turned it
up, muffling her laugh against his
felt pretty good
was only natural to
kiss then, and move gently under the flowing water. She was
easy to pick up. The cold tile made her gasp and arch her hips
against his; Wilson
pinned Lady Heather against the wall and took
her, savoring the nip of her teeth into the
muscle of his shoulder,
the hot luscious drive deep into her hungry body. She was
with every stroke, and when she came, he did too, this time slow and
were two robes
waiting in the bedroom, and his clothes had been freshly
cold buffet stood waiting on a little cart just inside the door.
Wilson arched an eyebrow
at Lady Heather, who—
tightened the belt on her robe, and glanced down for a moment
looking up to meet his tender gaze.
like you, James
Wilson. You are . . . a special man.”
blinked a little,
touched deeply by her words, and the intimate underlying
them. He smiled, and gallantly pulled out a chair for her at the
small linen covered
table near the fireplace. She slid into the chair
with feline grace, amused and touched
by his gesture. Wilson lifted
lids and examined the spread: cold roast beef, cheeses and
chilled ambrosia with mango and pineapple in the whipped cream and
bottle of sparkling wine. He gave a low whistle.
is . . .
Lady Heather laughed. “Take a moment to consider yourself.
you’ve expended a great number of calories during the scene.
to be expected, and you should keep that in mind.”
picked up a plate and looked at her, gesturing to the banquet
dimpled at his offer.
slice of the beef,
two of the cheese, and four or five grapes please.”
he served it
up, setting the plate before her with a flourish, a habit from
waitering days. Lady Heather gave an approving nod and held off until
he’d loaded up
his own plate and sat down opposite her at the
table. She took a bite and sighed.
comes the chance
to talk, James. How do you feel?”
focused on slicing
the roast beef for a moment longer before speaking up.
I have in a very long time. I’m still trying to sort out the
of it, but physically I’m
Heather gave an
understanding nod. “Good. You’ve been ready for
this for a
I think. I suspected as much on the first night you were
shot her a
sharp, questioning look and she continued gently. “You
shocked. Or judgmental. Which told me you’d either
or considered some of
the practices we do here and of course the
first step is always consideration. So I made
you more comfortable
and let you see that setting your desires into action wasn’t
difficult as you might have thought they were.”
sorts,” Wilson agreed. “But why make the
looked at him for a
moment, a tenderness in her smile. “Because I sensed your
unhappiness, James. I saw a man with all the outer trappings of
professional success trapped with an inner loneliness he
couldn’t share with anyone. A
man wondering if he was normal, or
even sane at times. A man with a need.”
was quiet for a
moment, letting her words sink in. He looked over to the bed,
back to her, his expression troubled.
not sure I
really understand any more than I did before we started. I mean, I
had an amazing experience—“ he rushed to reassure
Heather softly laughed, “—the
sheer intensity was beyond anything
I’ve experienced in regular sex, but I don’t think
this all the time.”
that’s part of
it James. It’s like chocolate.” He blinked, and she
take his hand, her cool ones engulfing his bigger, warmer one.
analogy. Most of us
are happy with vanilla in our lives. It’s good
and rich and soothing. But some of us crave
a little something more
every now and then; we have a need for a flavoring beyond
Not all the time, not every time, but the yearning is there and real.
years of vanilla, James, and you’ve tried to convince
yourself that vanilla is all you
SHOULD be wanting. Then you walked
into my mansion of chocolate, and took the
chance that maybe, just
another flavor once in a while,” he finished, his smile
troubled. “And yes, chocolate is damned good. But I have a
life, and I’m not sure just
where . . . chocolate fits into that.”
Heather let go of
his hand and cocked her head.
answer, James—you’ll need to work that out for
All I do
that you ARE normal, sane and very special. Wanting to be
submissive once in a while,
to be tied down and sensually tortured is
one of the most common fantasies we cater to
looked pleased. Lady Heather nodded.
more chocolate lovers out there than you’d think.”
talking with an easy give and take. By the time they were
another discreet knock sounded on the door. Heather answered it,
accepting the freshly laundered and pressed suit. She turned and
handed it to Wilson. He regretfully began
to get dressed, and when he
was nearly done, Heather stepped up and tied his tie, her
now the hour of
departure, darling James. I have three pieces of advice for
because you ARE a special man.”
of all, I’d
like you to take the time to re-evaluate what you really want.
very good, very . . . liberating for you, but it would be
all too easy to dismiss it once you
don’t think I’ll
ever dismiss it,” Wilson reassured her in a serious tone,
long fingers slide a perfect Windsor up to his collar front. She
second piece of
advice is this: you can enjoy chocolate at home. Find a nice . .
chef to play with. A man as charming and sensual and kind as you are
is rare, James.
And if you have the added intimate talent for
receiving as well as giving, you’ll have no
END of cooks in your
looked a little
doubtful, and cleared his throat. “It’s not as easy
in here, to you, took . . . trust.”
harder to get your needs met if you don’t think you can even
James. Take your time, and if you find someone whom you
can trust, heart AND soul—
that’s the time to consider things
nodded. Lady Heather
gave his tie a gentle pat then stepped back eyed him
Wilson ran a hand through his hair. “And your last piece of
Well, because I
know life isn’t always easy, it’s this. Should you
needing another session with someone—myself preferably, but
it’s not—then a
token of appreciation for lovely services
rendered is always de rigueur. Most specialists
have a preference for
little, but kept his chin up. “Diamonds are a
lovely tax write off,” she responded softly. “In
feel obligated, awkward or anxious because tonight was a gift
to myself as much as
anything else. I haven’t had such a personally
rewarding time in ages, James. Thank
but she shook her head, laying gentle fingers on his chiseled lips.
it once and I’ll say it again. You are a special man, Doctor
Wilson. And I’ll remember you for a very long time.”
package came by
private courier several days later, showing up in the smooth
a tall delivery man unfazed and discreet. Lady Heather noted it had
address, but bore a postmark from Princeton. When she
unwrapped it, two items came
to light. The first, a lush palm-sized
blue velvet box, opened easily, and resting on a bed
of satin lay a
pendant in diamonds and sapphires.
and picked the piece up, admiring the tiny jeweled umbrella
twinkled in the light.
glanced down at
the second box, and this one brought a sigh of even deeper
as she picked up the gold-wrapped heavy brick of Valrhona Carre de