Obsession (9780061887079) (3 page)

It was Rowena who gave me—as farewell present the night I left Maja's—our collection of colored balls, connected by a string, instructing me to select the size to anticipate your mood of the moment, suggesting I pick fresh mint from our garden, warm oil slightly before bruising the leaves in it with mortar and pestle, adding a pinch of cayenne pepper, to release the fragrance. Dip the balls into this before giving me the pleasure of gently inserting them, one at a time, into your sweet bottom as my tongue circles your cock. The mint and cayenne gives a nippy tang you will enjoy. She cautioned not to let the string vanish up into you. But should that ever happen, there are intriguing ways of retrieving, so never fear. When first we played this game
you moaned, begging I be more aggressive as I pushed them up into you with my tongue, and oh! with what relish I complied. I hope you do not think less of me—now that you know in all fairness it was Rowena and not me who should be given credit for introducing us to this pleasure. I'm only thankful, Master, that you were never attracted to her and therefore it was your Queen Bee who first initiated this playful game instead of another.

Maybe I shouldn't be telling you this—might make you think I'm trying to make you jealous—but how could that be when you know I think about your cock all the time? And right now I am so keyed up it's all I can do to stop getting to my clit. But high on the list of The Rules you have strictly forbidden this minor diversion, even when I haven't seen you for weeks, and there would be a “small chastisement” should I disobey (although how you would find out is hard to fathom). Perhaps not, uncannily intuitive
as you are.

Still I'm curious as to what it might be? I tremble. Deprivation of your cock necessitated by longer time than usual spent with Wife? Or, upon return, denial for an indefinite time of the bliss your mouth gives as it explores my body? Insistence I accompany you to Janus Club to select one of Maja's new favorites, even insist perhaps it be the dreaded Nadine (who I know you still fancy), for another sojourn with her on the Talcilla, this time to islands in Greece—a place you have never taken me—until satiated by leisurely discovery of her lovely body, you return, expecting me to be cheerful, exhibiting no sign of discontent?

No matter—I welcome any challenge. Nadine or any other would last fleetingly as the life of a butterfly at the paradise Akeru that you have given me. None have the love of beauty, the imagination, the fantasy to hold and nourish that combination of ma
cho tenderness and feminine sensitivity I treasure in you. No. Not one. I'd bet my life on it.

And only your chosen one—me—has strength to accept that there is more, much more than a streak of cruelty in you despite your kindness and generosity, which is boundless. I experience it often. Surely you know it takes all my control to listen to tales of “Wife” and “Partner,” when you point out photographs in newspapers or display pictures you carry in your wallet. I pretend not to care, because this perverse pleasure is included in The Rules (don't think it makes it easier to note that the house you built for me is far more magnificent than the one you built for her). Don't think it makes up for trips, disappearing to places you are secretive about, Greece in summer with Wife on the yacht Talcilla, named for your partnership; Aspen; the long trip to Bali discovering with her instead of me the magic of gamelan music, even though I suspect
your passion for music is a way of expressing emotion which is impersonal—it matters not, for each time it is I who wait—my body swathed in invisible veils, a chastity belt, knowing the key to open it dangles on your key chain while you are fucking her instead of me.

I'm sorry, Talbot, to have brought this up. Forget it, please. It breaks The Rules we have mutually agreed on. But please, please—hurry home and forgive my indiscretions.

Exclusively yours now and forever,

Bee

 

Seething I read over—“don't think it makes it easier to note that the house you built for me is far more magnificent than any you have built for her.” Felled—struck by a boxing glove, but instead of being KO'd, I
opened another—

 

Master,

I broke a Rule. You'd discover it anyway and I'll never lie to you. Thinking of you and Wife in London staying away longer than you indicated was too much. But as I touched my clit, in my heart it was your hand instead of mine—a badge of merit you might grant me as you consider whatever chastisement is in store. Whatever it may be the release was worth it.

Dare I suggest to be placed fully dressed over our favorite ottoman (the one tufted with puffs of saffron-colored velvet), my bottom covered for a muffled first smacking warmup. That done, placed over your knees, skirt lifted, begging you to not restrain yourself in giving my flesh the serious whacking I deserve. An ebony smooth-backed
hairbrush—most appropriate. The Mason-Pearson are considered finest, and it would be no trouble, while you are in London, to pick one up of a heft that pleases you at Harrods. You might take Wife to lunch at Claridges, and, after, she could go with you to select it. Her taste I hear is impeccable (see how angry I am). I am not suggesting this would be the light spanking occasionally administered by your hand with the reward of a luscious afterglow of warmed cocoa butter. No—a Mason-Pearson is a more serious matter. But no twigs, please. Too switchy and really painful. I had enough of that as a child from mean nuns at the orphanages, until I was old enough to have the wit and beauty which gave me power to run away.

When are you coming back? I'm getting itchy. Make it soon. I don't want to be chastised twice.

Bee

I tied the grosgrain ribbon from the letters around my neck and pulled. It crackled into my skin, choking me, as rocking back and forth I screamed at the cat who had wandered in from nowhere—what does it matter—what does it matter, as I ripped open another letter.

 

Heed, Master—

It did not sit well last night when you showed up with that—whatever her name was. She did have a pretty body, I'll give her that. And her mons mossy instead of waxed—don't think I didn't notice its scent came from her having been given access to the perfume you had blended exclusively for me on that last trip with Wife to Tangier, recalling how you elaborated on time spent supervising the mixing of frangipani, tuberose, and spices. Bet you had some cooked up for Wife too.

What happened last night isn't in The Rules. What new scenario is swirling around in that surreal brain of yours? Worst—she's a dead ringer for Wife—looks more like her than even I do—only not so skinny, thank god. How dare you bring her to Akeru without my consent. Don't think I didn't notice copper-burnished hair the shade of mine. I know Maja had nothing to do with this—friends there would have tipped me off. And don't think I've forgotten: when we first met it amused you to casually comment I was a type that appealed to you, because I eerily resembled Wife. That may have been a turn-on for you, but not me.

Let us go over The Rules. I am Queen Bee with full control over organizing your erotica, which gives your spirit freedom to pursue work so that your life runs smoothly. Was it only folderol you told Maja—that you'd found none qualified until you met me: “Bee has not only beauty, but smarts and though appears
diffident with a gentle reticence—occasionally an unexpected take-charge attitude breaks through (absolutely!), which I find a charming combination not found in others I've been auditioning”—you'd taken “time to evaluate her character,” coming to the conclusion “Bee is capable of keeping under control any tendencies of jealousy in her nature” (not necessarily), “carries herself with poise” you admired, suspecting “under her yielding demeanor there is a controlling streak in her nature (definitely) requisite not only for management of Akeru but structuring her own life by ability to respect and obey The Rules.” And that “she also had intelligence and sensitivity capable of handling some tricky situation (which Maja didn't go into) concerning Wife.” As you were still considering Nadine, Maja with her gift of sorcery consulted her oracle, concluding that position of planets at the moment when Nadine and I came together at Janus Club were significantly
aligned, and, believing in the science based on the chaos theory postulated by Benoit Mandelbrot, showing how mathematically everything is literally and inextricably connected to everything else—a butterfly flapping its wings in the jungles of Brazil exerts an effect on the atmosphere here in our room right now—Maja knew the moment had come, there should be no more shilly-shalling, and she hastened to put in motion the Yab-Yum to discover once and for all which of us embodied all that you were seeking. Destiny brought it together and the outcome was—me. So that everything in your life “now fits easily, seamlessly into place,” as you so often say. And so it has. Until now.

Stay away for a while. See how it sets. I'm not that crazy about you.

Bee

 

Pain ran up my arm as I beat my fist on the letter—how could he? “Everything in your life ‘now fits easily, seamlessly into place.'”
I
gave him that. He told me so—praised me, acknowledged my expertise was what made him free to create without concerning himself with mundane details—the secretaries, household staff, apprentices, assistants—how painstakingly I interviewed and screened each and every one before I considered them worthy to be part of his entourage. How proud I was the day he named our estate Talcilla, cementing our partnership in every way. “High praise coming from you, my Lord and Master—thank you kind sir,” I'd teased, giving a mock curtsey, and he'd bowed his head in deference, clapping his hands applauding. Oh god—what a fool I am. I started tearing the letter up—but instead opened another.

 

Talbot,

Having banished you from my sight until I cool off, I was caught off guard yesterday when you showed up at Akeru unexpectedly—so soon demanding punishment for past indiscretions. Lucky for you I chose the small whip weighted with tiny steel balls encased in cream-soft leather, dangling beguilingly from a handle that fits cozily into my palm, always a pleasure to wield instead of the cumbersome other (which you certainly merited). Keeping at it, I knew you wanted more, but the greater punishment would be to stop. So I did.

Your sweet fat bottom appeared more flushed and sore than usual, so instead of soothing unguents, I chose to finish it off with a few smacks from one of those newfangled kitchen gadgets you're always bringing home—which happened to be handy—some sort of thing with wire bristles—perfect to bring your cheeks to just the right shade
of piggy-pink, ready for a sponge soaked in vinegar to rub on your bottom until you cried out in pain. Only then had you received punishment deserved. See how well I know you!

After this it gave satisfaction to demand compensation for my titties, which had been neglected for much too long. Your aggressive yet gentle teasing caused them to rise in ecstasy as you favored not one more than the other as you sometimes do. Both were given the attention I craved, plumped up until molto contento (as the Italians would say), fully satiated as your cock entered. By then I was wild with longing, unable to hold back a second longer (although I know how that pleases you).

Oh lover, it was divine. Fun too after, making that little supper of scrambled eggs, soft-cooked just the way you like, with a little beluga caviar folded in. The bottle of André Clouet 1911 champagne so
icy-cold, so festive as we clicked glasses across the table and you humbly once again asked forgiveness.

All serene once more in paradise. But if you really want to get back in my good graces how about a little trip—a weekend in Amsterdam? The buzz at Maja's is that her charismatic nephew Pasha (remember he visited us at Akeru with his intriguing friend Volupia) has opened a cabaret there, which introduces diversions we might enjoy. Something not too bizarre but unusual, a surprise…surely you can come up with a reason—business, whatever—so Wife doesn't give you a hard time, complaining as she has lately that you're away far too often. I know it upsets you to see her in that mode. No doubt you will come up with something so she will let you go merrily on your way—what I don't care to think about.

X Bee

 

Drowning—gasping for air, panicked, the only thing keeping me afloat was to open another—

 

Talbot,

For the second time you have broken The Rules. Without consulting me, brought a girl to Akeru—again one with more than a startling resemblance to Wife.

As you introduced her—Dominique—I knew immediately why you brought her here without my permission. The minute I saw her I knew she was one I would never have considered suitable, bearing no resemblance to me—something about her—indiscreet and wild, with a reckless eye, which would only bring havoc into our paradise.

As you bid me disrobe her, I sensed you had encouraged her to take a superior attitude toward
me, cavalierly ordering me to apply my milk-of-honey lotion to her body, your eyes on her with total disregard for me. Do you wonder why I left the room in tears, yet, unable to stay away, returned minutes later to find her spread out on the divan, eyes closed, your face buried in her pussy as she moaned in pleasure. As you continued I could feel my pussy creaming, knowing it would be she who'd find relief—not me. Unable to stop myself I touched my mons and as your delight in Dominique brought your efforts to fruition—my jealousy tearing me apart, as she came, so did I. But you, aware only of her pleasure, noticed not (at least I'll be spared punishment for this transgression of The Rules).