Chapter 10

The next day at school was very strange. In the first place, I was actually lethargic instead of my usual energetic self. After the long, hard sex session with Ingrid and Jacqueline I had of course gone to the dojo for my usual workout. We were practicing full katas, and it was exhausting. I got home sweaty and stinking from both the sex and martial arts, and I should have taken a shower before dinner. However, Mom had it ready the minute I walked in the door, as usual, and insisted I eat it while it was still hot. She had been recovering very well from her grief and I didn’t want to upset her.

Naturally, Mom made a fuss of me as I pushed dinner around my plate, worried that I was sick. I told her it was just because of the strenuous session at the dojo, but she knew that didn’t usually take so much out of me. She kept feeling my forehead and started giving me ‘comfort’ hugs, which I knew by now must be sending her hormones soaring. When she offered to draw me a nice, hot bath and do all the work of washing me off, I knew it was time to say I wasn’t hungry anymore and jump in the shower. She looked distressed as I practically ran to the bathroom. I scrubbed extra hard, washed my hair, and even put on some after shave although I still normally only had to shave on the weekend.

That must have done the trick, because Mom toned down her attentions a lot, although she was still acting very sweet and touchy-feely. Knowing what the problem was only made me more nervous about being around her. I would have to discuss the situation with Dr. Faizal.

During English class, Ingrid gave me a few hot glances that must have been obvious to some of the other kids. I frowned at her, but that didn’t seem to cool her jets any. In French class Jacqueline looked at me twice and blushed furiously. She did the smart thing and quit looking at me.

So, as soon as I got out of her class, who was waiting for me in the hallway? Kim Lee, of course, and she’s just begging me to join her in the strip joint because she’s been dreaming about drooling all over my big dick for more than a week. I assured her that I’d love to but I just wasn’t feeling very well, so she whispered in my ear that if I could get it up she’d happily let me have her cherry. I had a feeling that reminding her of my great respect for her virginity wouldn’t work, so I just said I might have something contagious and didn’t want to get her sick. She backed off -- well, a bit -- and thanked me for my consideration of her health. It suddenly dawned on me that, the more I denied her, the more intense her desire for me might get. But that was a good problem, right? And certainly something for another day.

Then, after lunch, there was another Salvador Dali moment. Mr. Franklin announced that he had won the lottery, which was paying out more than five million, and he would be retiring at the end of the winter semester, which was only a few weeks away. We all stood and cheered and congratulated him. Naturally, like I’m sure was the same with all of his other classes, he thought it was because we were so happy for him rather than the fact that we would be getting rid of this pedantic curmudgeon. That was a phrase I had learned from Ingrid, which was what all of the other teachers called him behind his back.

I guess the only good news was that I had no classes with Marie, so I could easily avoid her if I bagged a lunch and ate it away from everyone else. Which is exactly what I did. I wasn’t quite ready to see where that relationship went, as I was still having mixed feelings about that day.

I was supposed to meet Dr. Faizal that afternoon, but I decided I just didn’t have the energy or mental attitude to go through with it. Part of that was I was sure she would try to passively wheedle me into sex again, which I absolutely was not in the mood for. Not with anyone, least of all her. So I called her up and told her I wasn’t feeling well, and she commiserated but made me promise to come in the day after, which was Friday, if I felt up to it, of course. I agreed and hung up on her.

That night Mom was much more back to normal, especially as I insisted on showering as soon as I got back from the dojo. I slept a lot better and was back to my normal self the next day. Fortunately, all of the females in my life were all back to their normal selves (more or less) as well.

Friday afternoon I did go to see Dr. Faizal. When I got to her office I wasted no time getting down to business with her.

“So, Dr. Faizal, did you learn anything yet from all the samples you took?”

Dr. Faizal smiled indulgently. “I ordered the tests expedited, but I’m afraid it will take a while, perhaps weeks, before we have any definite information. Scientific study is abysmally slow, I’m afraid.”

“Oh.” I was both disappointed and puzzled. “So why did you ask me to come today if there’s nothing to talk about?”

“You mean, other than to see you?” She was smiling brightly as she asked this, as if she were just joking, but I could tell she really meant it. “I can assure you, we have much to speak about. And, by the way, I think that, given the new relationship we have established, it might be more appropriate if you called me Narmin rather than Dr. Faizal.”

I thought about that for a moment, but then gave a small, wicked smile. “No. I think I really like calling you Dr. Faizal. That difference in our relationship pleases me a lot more than with any of my other women.”

She absorbed this comment silently, weighing exactly what I meant. She finally nodded in agreement. “Certainly, if that’s what you desire. But, by the same token, may I be permitted to call you ‘Sir’?”

Many thoughts flitted through my mind at this simple question. The first was of Jacqueline, who had called me Sir without any prompting. But she was an experienced submissive. Then I went to Ingrid and my mother, both of whom were strong, even dominant women in most circumstances, but definitely acted submissive to me when the situations changed. There were other examples in my life, such as Angelica, Kim, and even Dr. Faizal herself. Why did different circumstances cause such different reactions in these women?

I blurted out the question that had been building in my mind recently. “Do you think it’s possible that a dominant person can also be a submissive?”

“Of course,” she answered without hesitation. “After all, am I not the perfect example?”

I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”

She folded her hands placidly, one over the other. “Here in this building I am Dr. Faizal, one of the first employees of this company. I am highly qualified and respected. I am also an officer of the company -- a position to which your mother has recently risen. When I give an instruction, it is obeyed like an order.”

“Yeah, I know that. So?”

“So, as you also know, I am a natural submissive. In my case, that proclivity comes out in the presence of strong men; that is, men with strong personalities. For other women, the conditions under which they act assertively, such as possibly in the office or more likely at home, and who they react to with submission, such as someone who dominates them physically, may be totally different. However, being strong in a given situation certainly does not preclude a person from deeply wanting to submit in another situation.”

I thought about that, especially in relation to Angelica and Ingrid. They were both strong figures within their own realm, but submissive to me. Even Kim was very confident when it came to cheering. On the other hand, it seemed that Jacqueline was submissive virtually everywhere, as I don’t think she ever asserted herself in the classroom.

“Okay,” I said. “I think I get it. And I suppose it’s alright if you call me ‘sir’, although that’s not really necessary.”

No matter what, I thought, there was no way we were going to have a formal relationship like Ingrid and Jacqueline had.

She bowed her head a little bit. “Thank you, Sir,” she said meekly.

I grunted. “So, what did you want to talk about that is so important?”

“Actually, we are already talking about it, Sir,” she assured me. “It’s mentioned in the contract you signed. I need to get as complete a picture of your, um, activities and how various people react to you under those varying circumstances in order to best direct my research and testing procedures.”

My body jolted back. “Wait! Are you saying you want me to tell you all about my, uh, personal life?”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I’m very sorry, Sir, but it’s standard procedure. With animals we’re studying, we do our best to track their movements and habits in order to build up a history that helps to explain all of the physical causes and responses in relation to the circumstances surrounding their use of pheromones. In this case, we have a unique opportunity to get an accurate, first-hand account of all of the latter while being able to evaluate all of the former in controlled conditions. It would be invaluable if you would be willing to share your ... um, knowledge.”

I fumed. Okay, to be honest I was aware my contract called for revealing -- to sum it up -- certain background and related information pertinent to the research. Frankly, not having understood all that legal terminology I had glazed my eyes over it and went on to the money I might make off of this deal. I knew that legally I was trapped, although I had the feeling Dr. Faizal would gloss over most of this if I asserted my dominance. However, I really did realize that giving her the best shot at really understanding and bringing to market whatever it was that I had would be in the best financial interests of me and my mom. So, I gritted my teeth and prepared to answer all of her questions. In exacting, embarrassing detail.

Another thought occurred to me. “You’re not going to get those other women involved in this, are you? I mean, either wanting to talk with them or, I don’t know, experimenting on them?”