Fifty-five

ON SUNDAY, Kate, Melody, and Lissa left for Oregon to pick up Kate’s siblings. Wendy and I would be alone for three days. We had a lot to work out in our relationship. I had a lot to work out. Wendy appeared blissful as she walked around the house with nothing on but her necklace and a smile whenever she was home.

The talk had to be worked in between painting, Wendy’s classes, and a heaping helping of lovemaking. By nine o’clock on Sunday morning, the weather had warmed and cleared. I had a crew on four lifts and several step-ladders. I piped my music through mini-speakers and we made progress. At noon, Bree asked me to turn off my speakers. Out on the track, a garage band was set up with guitars, drums, and a keyboard. As soon as they started playing, people came through the gates of the fenced field. Each one made a contribution at the gate.

There were no seats and the ground was a little wet, but the several dozen people who came through didn’t seem to mind standing and facing the wall as we painted. Last weekend there had only been half a dozen show up and I thought Bree’s idea was a bust. This weekend it looked to be more profitable. The band was pretty good and soon I was grooving, lost in the music and swinging my brush.

When the group stopped playing after about two hours, I took a break to use the bathroom and get a slice of the pizza. A lot of people came to the edge of the track to talk to the painters. Several made additional donations as they were leaving. Eric came over just as I was climbing up to start my piped music and continue painting.

“That was great!” he said. “We took in $273.50 in donations this afternoon. It was really good.”

“We’re going to do better,” Bree said. “Just wait till next weekend.”

“That’s great, guys,” I said. “I’m glad the fundraising is going well. We need a gauge out here that shows how much we’ve raised.”

“Good idea,” Eric said. “By the way, you guys looked great up there. It was almost like you were choreographed to the music.”

“Speaking of which, I need to sling some more paint. It’s a good day.” I climbed onto my lift, started the music and went back to painting. I’m not sure when the other volunteers left, but when I finally rode the platform to the bottom, there was only Bree still left.

“You didn’t have to stay,” I said. “I get a little obsessive when I’m painting. You never know when I’ll quit.” I grabbed another slice of cold pizza in the shed as I cleaned up my brushes.

“You know that’s been sitting out for like five hours, right?”

“Oh well. There are probably enough preservatives in this stuff to keep it safe for days. I’m beat.”

“I know everybody went to Oregon. Would you like company tonight?” Bree asked. I almost said yes after I’d accepted the sweet kiss she gave me. Then I remembered the probably naked girl who would be waiting for me at home.

“Maybe we’d better not this time,” I said.

“Yeah,” she chuckled. “I figured you might already be occupied. I hope we get our chance sometime soon. But you know, it’s not like it used to be, Tony.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I used to just want to get in your pants and get us both off. I never thought of anything beyond that. Talk about obsessive,” she laughed. “But now ... I still want to make love to you, Tony, but what I really want, I feel like I’ve already got. I just want to be a part of your ... your life ... your family ... your ménage.”

The house smelled delicious. I guess I was hungrier than I thought. But the smell of onions being sautéed is one of the most appetizing things I can think of. I soon discovered that these onions were to be accompanied by a braised pork chop, black rice, and spinach. And that the meal would be served by a very naked Wendy.

“I sure hope you fixed dinner for both of us and not just for me,” I said. “I don’t think I could sit and eat in front of you.”

“Yes, Tony. I’ll join you. I was getting pretty hungry.”

It was a beautiful meal, but I was thankful we were eating at the breakfast bar instead of in the dining room. I think that would have been too much. Having Wendy naked beside me was distracting.

It only took a few minutes to clean up the dishes and Wendy allowed me to help. For some reason, I felt like I was being given permission to do something that was her privilege alone. When we were finished, Wendy led me downstairs and undressed me in the bathroom.

“May I help you with your shower, master?” she asked.

“Tiger, you can’t just serve me and call me master. I can’t do it.”

“I know, Tony. You don’t know what it means to me to be yours and that you are willing to ... give me direction. I promise that I won’t call you master unless we’re alone and I won’t run around naked in the house if anyone else is here—unless everyone is.”

“That will help,” I said. “I do like you naked.” We got in the shower and she washed me, shampooing my hair and soaping my body. The shower was so sensual as I washed her, too, that I was definitely turned on. Wendy led me back to her bed. I was thankful that she hadn’t tried to lead me to the big bed or even to Kate’s bed. It was clear that she wasn’t trying to move in to anyone else’s space.

“What is it you really want, Tiger?” I asked softly as we kissed. “I don’t know how to be in this kind of relationship. I know I want you to be part of my ... our lives, but I don’t know how to be what you want.”

“I know I’m a big responsibility,” she said. I tried to protest, but she hushed me. “I’m strange. I escaped from two abusive situations three times, and still I long to have a master that I submit to. I talk to Shiela, my therapist, about it. I understand I’m a product of my upbringing with that horrible man.” Wendy couldn’t even call him her father. I blinked away a tear. “I’m getting better and stronger every day. Sheila says that I’m stronger than I think. But I don’t feel strong, Tony. I have an overwhelming urge to please and to serve.”

I held Wendy and she began kissing me all over my chest. I didn’t want the conversation to end, though. We hadn’t reached a conclusion.

“But what do you want from me?” I asked.

“You are gentle and kind and caring,” Wendy continued. “I don’t expect you to love me like you love Kate and Melody and Lissa. I can see that is unique and I don’t want to infringe on it. But I know you love me a little and that you always try to find the best thing for me. That’s all I want, Tony. When I offer you myself ... my service ... my submission, what I’m asking in return is that you take care of me. I don’t mean that you support me so I don’t have to work, but that you protect me and help me be a better person. Tony, I trust you completely. You saved my life. You helped me heal. You really are my hero. Here in my room—when I’m wearing this collar that I love—please be my master.”

It was a lot to take in. I was still conflicted by it all. I understood that Wendy wanted something different than any of the other women wanted—something more. As I thought about it, she took my silence as agreement, moving against me and kissing me. I responded.