Chapter 9

The next afternoon I kept my promise to Ingrid. Right after school I pedaled to her house and zoomed into the garage, which she closed down on my heels. I couldn’t read her mood: distracted, irritated, anxious, whatever. As soon as I got off my bike she grabbed my hand and led me right into the bedroom.

As soon as we got in she turned to look me in the face. “Is this okay, Mark?” she asked anxiously.

I had learned a lot from Dr. Faizal about the effect I was having on certain women, including Ingrid. From what had occurred both yesterday and today, I got a sense of what was going on with her. She needed a fix badly.

“Yes, of course it is,” I assured her.

Ingrid stood in front of me, nervous as she figured out what she wanted to do. Her beautiful blue eyes blinked several times as her chest rose and fell. Then her body relaxed as she made a decision. She started to strip, with no attempt at being seductive. She only took enough time to put her clothes neatly on the arm of a small couch near the window -- which already had the blinds pulled closed.

I just watched her, enjoying the show. When that fantastic figure was totally bared to me, I made a gesture toward myself.

I didn’t have to wait long for her reaction. Ingrid blinked twice, gave a twitch of a frown, but obediently stepped forward to begin undressing me. I worked hard to keep any signs of exaltation from crossing my face. I did what was needed to cooperate, but let her do the work.

When I was also naked she looked at me with questioning eyes. I pointed at the bed. Ingrid pulled the covers down and lay on her back, waiting to see what I wanted.

I was already hard and really wanted to slide into that fantastic fur sheath, but I also really wanted to be the man she had dreamed of. So, having gained the submissive behavior I had silently demanded (but never really expected to get!), I thought it was my turn to give pleasure.

I moved to the foot of the bed and Ingrid gave a happy smile, no doubt expecting me to move in for some cunnilingus. Instead I leaned forward and began licking the bottoms of her feet while gently stroking her calves with my fingertips.

“Oh! Uuuunh! Ah!”

It was amazing! I had read that some women had a foot fetish (hell, some people seemed to have a fetish for about anything you could imagine), but I hadn’t expected such an intense reaction from Ingrid. You never knew what would work until you tried it, right?

She was wriggling so hard she almost pulled her foot away, but more often she was shoving it into my face and moving it around so my tongue hit different parts. I got the idea and moved to her mid-feet flesh on the underside of the ankle bone. She actually bucked like she was having a mini-orgasm! So, what the hell, I started sucking on her toes, going from one foot to the other from the big toe on down.

“Oh, my god!” Ingrid groaned. “No one’s ever done this to me before!”

I raised my eyes innocently to her ecstatic face. “Oh? Then I guess you don’t like it?” I teased.

“Don’t you dare stop, you darling boy!”

I didn’t particularly like the ‘boy’ part, but I did appreciate the sentiment. So I got back to it, starting to work my way up her leg. She didn’t seem to enjoy that nearly as much, but she sensed my ultimate destination and reached down to lightly grab my head to lead my tongue to the promised land. Just as I gave her sopping puss a long lick I heard a slight noise at the door.

“Mistress!”

What the hell! Was this some version of Groundhog Day where another woman would walk in on me having sex every time from now on?

Both Ingrid and I jerked our faces toward the doorway. In it stood Ms. Dague!

I felt myself go instantly limp at the shock and embarrassment.

On the other hand, Ingrid was furious as she shouted: “Jacqueline! What the hell are you doing here?”

Ms. Dague’s face was crimson, tears in her eyes. “I ... I had to see. To make sure.”

Ingrid slapped her hand hard on her thigh. Ms. Dague flinched as though the blow had struck her.

“I specifically ordered you not to come back until after six,” Ingrid hissed. “Now get out!”

“But you always include me!” Ms. Dague wailed.

“Well, not this time,” Ingrid said icily. Then her brows knitted as she thought about what she’d said. “Anyhow, as you can see, he’s a teenager. And one of our students. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to get you involved.”

Ms. Dague looked very skeptical at this excuse as her throat worked hard to keep her anguish in check. Then she dropped her eyes.

“Very well. I ... I’m very sorry, Mistress. I won’t disobey you again.”

Ms. Dague looked briefly at me. Her eyes were like a doe who had just lost her fawn. Before the tears could fall down her cheeks she turned to leave.

It all suddenly clicked. The third bedroom Ingrid ‘shared’ with her roommate. Ingrid giving commands, and Ms. Dague calling her ‘mistress’. But what did all of this have to do with me?

“Wait a minute!” I interrupted. They both turned to me in surprise.

Ingrid waved dismissively at me, her eyes still blazing. “This is nothing to do with you, Mark. Don’t interfere.”

Didn’t it? I would damn well find out.

“What are you doing, Ingrid?” I demanded. “You’re doing the same thing to, uh, Jacqueline, that you said you don’t like about men.”

Ingrid’s mouth opened and closed several times. “What do you mean?”

“You told me you wanted a man who could be strong, but tender, sensitive and caring. Someone who was concerned with your needs and desires. So why are you treating Ms. Dague like a slave?”

“She’s not my slave. She my sub -- my submissive. We have a formal contract.”

Now it was my turn to gape like a fish. People signed contracts that let other people treat them like dirt?

It suddenly occurred to me I was naked in front of my teacher. Well, in front of the other teacher I had fantasized about a few months ago. I grabbed the corner of the blanket and covered myself up.

Ingrid looked at me, then looked at Ms. Dague, then sighed deeply. She made no attempt to cover her own nude flesh. “Okay, I suppose we’d better talk about this,” she said.

Ms. Dague looked embarrassed. “Do you not wish me to leave now, Mistress?”

Ingrid frowned, then waved at the little sofa. “No, go sit over there. I suppose we really should be having a group conversation to get all of this out.”

Ms. Dague meekly did as she was told, sitting with her hands on her knees and her bottom on the edge of the sofa like a mouse trying to pretend the cat couldn’t see her.

“So,” I said, confused. “You two are, like, lesbians, but you also have sex with guys?”

“NO!” Ingrid said too vehemently. “I mean, it’s not like that.”

“Okay,” I said. I waited for the explanation.

Ingrid walked to her closet and put on a robe. Then she came and sat on the bed, but not too close to me.

“Jacqueline and I were roommates in college,” she began. “You already know I dated a lot of guys, but didn’t find a single one I really liked. Jacqueline became a really good friend right away, and she would commiserate with me when I came in, sometimes angry, sometimes very sad.” She looked over at Ms. Dague. “She would hug me and stroke me, and after a while gave me little kisses.” She looked back at me. “Friendly kisses.”

I gave a noncommittal tilt of my head.

“Jacqueline occasionally dated men as well, but I don’t think she really liked it.”

I looked over at Jacqueline, as I was beginning to think of her, but she dropped her head down. Shame? Sorrow? Past remembrances? Maybe she was just shy. I was beginning to realize how little understanding I really had about women in spite of all my pheromone-enhanced success with them.

“When it eventually became sex, I was angry. Angry at myself for making it with another woman. Angry at the men I felt had driven me to it, not understanding what a woman really needed. I took it out on Jacqueline. And she loved it.” She looked directly at me. “Very soon I got hooked on the feeling I got when she allowed me to dominate her in our dorm room. I quickly discovered Jacqueline was actually a submissive lesbian, or maybe somewhat bi, because sometimes I had a guy over and we would share. But mostly we would wind up having sex every time one of my dates went badly. By the time we graduated we had signed a dom/sub contract.”

“So that’s why you’re still together? You’re like, a couple, but you’re not a lesbian?” This seemed really weird to me.

Ingrid waved her hands in the air and shrugged her shoulders like she was as mystified as me. Of course, the movement really bounced her boobs around, which totally distracted me for a moment. I almost buried my face in them just to see what reaction I would get from both women, but I wisely resisted the impulse.

“I guess you’d say we’re sort of a couple. We agreed to stay together for a while. When we decided to get teaching jobs at the same school we also agreed to just ignore men for unless the ‘perfect’ guy came along for one of us.” Ingrid looked over at Jacqueline, who was still examining her knees. “She doesn’t really like sex with men, but she will do anything I tell her to.”

I raised by eyebrows. “Seriously? Anything?”

Ingrid actually blushed. “I meant like, what we do. I fuck Jacqueline in all of her holes with a dildo, but Jacqueline only licks or fingers me, or sometimes uses a vibrator to get me off. I won’t lick her. I told you, I’m not really a lesbian.”

What was most amazing to me was that, throughout this entire story, Jacqueline sat there doing her mouse imitation, not reacting to anything Ingrid told me about their relationship. But the things Ingrid was saying about her had to be really embarrassing, right? Was she really that much in lust, or maybe love with Ingrid that she would let her treat her like a total doormat?

“So this dom/sub thing is all about letting one person be totally cruel to another person, and that makes them happy?” I scoffed. “How could someone let that happen to them?”

Ingrid looked at me like I was a total idiot, although in my own defense I was still fifteen and relatively inexperienced in the world. Somehow that didn’t feel like a good excuse.

“Actually, this sort of relationship is pretty normal. It’s been going on probably as long as homo sapiens have been walking on two feet.”

“Oh, come on, Ingrid! I know I’m still learning a lot about the world, but that sounds pretty unbelievable to me.”

“Oh? Have you ever thought about all of the religious orders who basically do the same thing? Like a monk, being part of an Order, following the rules, obeying without question. Can you imagine the relief of just letting go, giving up responsibility for your actions, even your life, to something higher? To endure pain in the name of pleasure, to be totally free of guilt because everything you do is commanded of you?”

“Hah! I know about that, but you’re talking about a few religious fanatics. I would hardly call that normal.”

Ingrid twisted her mouth and shook her head with impatience. “Yes, you have a hell of a lot to learn, Mark. Those ‘few’ religious fanatics willing to suffer pain and obedience are actually in the hundreds of millions, many of them sublimating their sexual urges under that disguise. And the number of people who prefer some sort of BDSM, which makes the sex a lot more interesting and intense, is far greater than you can imagine.”

I leaned back a little bit, trying to absorb what she was telling me. Dr. Faizal had told me you couldn’t make a person do what they didn’t want to under hypnosis, or even the influence of my pheromones. If Ingrid was right about how many people really wanted to be subservient to some ‘higher power’, or even another person, did that justify someone taking advantage of them? Or were they even taking advantage when it fulfilled some strange quirk in the submissive? My head was spinning.

I looked at Jacqueline, wondering what had been going on in her head throughout this conversation.

“Is that true, Ms. -- uh, Jacqueline? Is this what you really want for your life?”

She finally looked up. Her face was calm, almost serene. “Yes. I love serving my mistress in any way she allows.”

I scratched my forehead. “So, then why did you come in here against her orders today?”

Jacqueline looked at Ingrid, obviously for permission to speak honestly. When Ingrid nodded, she turned back to me.

“It’s just because I was jealous. I suspected Mistress was seeing some man all alone when she has often insisted on a three-way with males. I was hurt, and I wanted to know why Mistress was not including me in your relationship.”

“So, now you know. Well, I guess, as I’m not really sure myself. But you still want to serve her?”

“Of course!” She glanced briefly over at Ingrid. “I know my mistress does not love me in the same way that I love her, but that doesn’t matter. At least, not if she still wants me with her, serving her.”

I rubbed my lips thoughtfully. “And, if she still wants you, you’re going to be obedient to her no matter what she commands?”

Jacqueline didn’t hesitate. “Yes. No matter what she commands.” She turned her eyes back to Ingrid. “I would have willingly become her slave if she would have let me.”

“Hunh.” I also looked directly at Ingrid. “Okay, so what are we going to do about this?”

Ingrid looked at me, then looked at Jacqueline for a long time. She frowned, then took a deep breath and turned back to me. She looked a lot happier.

“Let’s go to our shared room and see what happens. But, first, we all need to be naked.”

Jacqueline gave a tentative smile as she rose from the couch and began stripping. When she was nude she faced Ingrid, her hands at her sides and palms toward her mistress. Then she sank to her knees.

Like Dr. Faizal, she was tiny, delicate, like a very large child’s doll. Her skin was nearly as pale as Ingrid’s, and also tight from frequent exercise. Her breasts were not large, but they were quite pretty, jutting a little bit out to each side. Her nipples were like little beads on pears, while her pussy was smooth and pink. I started to get a tiny bit hard once more.

Ingrid led us down the hallway, me right behind watching her perfect posterior swaying slightly, while Jacqueline followed behind. I fleetingly wondered what my butt must look like to her.

I looked around the room and inspected it much more closely than I had the first brief time I had been in there. The bed headboard was a mirror. The bed had clasps like handcuffs for both the hands and the ankles, only they were covered with some kind of fur. I understood at once it was so someone could be tied onto the bed in a kneeling position while someone fucked them from behind. That looked just perfect.

As soon as we entered Jacqueline sank back down to her knees, obviously in a submissive pose. We both looked at Ingrid to hear what she wanted to happen.

“I think Jacqueline needs to be punished for disobeying my command. Mark, you should give her a good spanking.”

I hesitated, which made Ingrid impatient. “Go on, take charge. Punish the little pain slut. She loves it.”

I jerked a bit at Ingrid’s coarse language. Then I looked at the submissive teacher. “Would you like to be spanked, Jacqueline?”

“Yes, Sir,” Jacqueline said obediently, although I was sure she didn’t mean it. “I would like to be spanked by you,” she assured me after glancing over at Ingrid.

My cock got even harder. “Very well. Go over to the bench and bend over.”

Jacqueline did not get off her knees, instead crawling over to a short bench that had thick leather padding. I walked over to the cabinet Ingrid had left open and selected a wooden paddle that looked less lethal than the others. It was about eighteen inches long and five or six inches wide, and was covered by a soft leather. Jacqueline was already bent over the bench, her head and shoulders over one end as she held the sides of the bench. Her rounded rump was sticking out in my direction.