Chapter 12

Much later we were curled up in bed together. The apartment was littered with articles of black lace, and my street clothes were still scattered over the bedroom floor, but they could wait to be picked up in the morning. I was lounging in a puddle of contentment deep enough that I had no desire to climb out of it any time soon. The part of my brain that thinks about sex was sated (for the moment), and the part of my brain that thinks about everything else was thinking about falling asleep.

"By the way," Richard said, breaking several minutes of silence. "I had a visitor today. At my office."

The thinking part of my brain paused in its contemplation of unconsciousness long enough to form a response. "Oh?"

"Can you guess who it was?"

Another brief pause for mental processing. "No."

"It was Jack."

That jolted me enough to put sleep aside for a moment. Jack. Arlene must have told him by now. It had been two days.

"What did he say, Master?"

"Well, he was very polite," Richard said, "so it was hard to tell. But I think he was hinting that if I hurt you he would break every bone in my body."

I blinked. "That's so sweet!" I exclaimed.

"Sweet!" Richard pulled me towards him in mock displeasure. "You think it's sweet for me to have my bones broken?"

"Of course not. Silly Master. But he's trying to protect me."

In truth, I was touched. I had always considered Jack a friend, though I was perfectly aware that his real attachment was to Arlene. But that he would go out on a limb like that for me was a very pleasant surprise. Not that I was worried about him carrying out the threat: Richard must have had five inches and fifty pounds on Jack, with longer arms to boot. But having given the warning, Jack would take it seriously. I knew him well enough to be confident of that. I was sure Arlene had put him up to it, but he wouldn't have done it if he weren't willing. His concern might be unnecessary, but it showed he cared.

"Well, sweet or not, I'd rather convince him that no protection is necessary," Richard said.

"What did you say to him?" I asked.

"I invited him to dinner," Richard said.

"Dinner?" I repeated blankly.

"Dinner here. Him and Arlene both."

That gave me an uneasy flutter. True, I had told Arlene about Richard and myself, but did I really want her to see me in my native habitat? She might be shocked. She might be repelled. Worse, she might laugh.

"When are they coming, Master?" I asked.

"Tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night!" I exclaimed.

"It's Friday," Richard said reasonably, "so no work the next day. We have plenty of time to shop and get ready."

But not nearly enough time to fret beforehand. Of course, maybe that was the idea.

"I'm not sure..." I said.

"Are you questioning me, Susie?" Richard asked teasingly.

"No! No, of course not, Master."

"Of course, maybe I should make you do the cooking..."

"Oh, no, please don't, Master, I'm likely enough to humiliate myself as it is, without poisoning the guests..."

Richard laughed. "Your cooking isn't that bad. In fact, it's coming along quite well."

"Thank you, Master, but I still..."

"All right, Susie. I'll cook dinner." He kissed me on the forehead.

"Thank you, Master," I said with relief. Then I realized he had successfully diverted me from my original source of dismay, the fact that Jack and Arlene were coming over at all. "Master, are you sure... ?"

"It's too late to back out now -- Jack said they would come. Relax, Susie. It will be fine."

"Yes, Master," I said. He was right, of course. I should relax. How bad could it be? I thought about how bad it could be, and started worrying again.

Richard sensed it. He rolled over and looked at me seriously.

"Sit up, Susie," he said.

I sat up, the bedclothes falling to my waist. "Yes, Master."

His eyes met mine. "What am I?" he asked me.

At his tone I felt something stir within me. "You are my Master," I said, returning his gaze with fascination. It was as if I were chained in place, unable to look away.

"That's right," Richard agreed. "And what does that make you?"

The stirring grew stronger. "Your... slave."

Richard frowned. "Was that hesitation?"

"No, Master!" I said. "I am your slave!"

"Good," he said. "What does that mean?"

My pulse had started racing with excitement. Richard had never talked to me like this before, and something deep inside me opened before it like a flower -- a deep submissiveness, an overwhelming desire to please him. It was one of the most powerful things I'd ever felt. I resonated to it like a tuning fork, my body vibrating with the need to obey.