Denny didn’t pull his hand away, but I saw hesitation in his eyes.  He searched my face, and I could see the gears turning.  It was a tempting offer, but our past weighed heavily on his mind.  At least he wasn’t involved with anyone that I knew of, at any rate.  He glanced at the closed door, then back at me. 

“Is this about yesterday?”  His lips were turned down, though I could tell he was trying to keep his face neutral.

“I suppose you could say that.”  I blushed deeply and looked down, embarrassed.  I didn’t know how to explain the sudden impulse to come on to him like that.  I knew I wanted him, badly, but there was nothing that had happened in the time since he’d left my office the day before that warranted my behavior, especially from his point of view.  “Look, I know what happened was….sudden.  I know you had no reason to help me out, but you did.  And…the way we kissed…  I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath.  I could only imagine what he was thinking and prepared myself for a tirade.  Our breakup hadn’t been pretty.  When I’d found him and Alice together in our living room one night after class, I hadn’t given either of them a chance to explain.  I ignored it.  I wouldn’t let either of them talk to me about it and changed the subject or pretended not to hear them when they did. 

I did everything in my power to torture him.  I teased him in private, offering more and more of myself but never delivering as much as I promised.  I practically ignored him in public.  I flirted relentlessly with anyone else who showed interest, especially in front of him, doing anything but directly cheating.  He hated it, but the guilt of what he and Alice had done meant he put up with it.  It seemed like the worse I treated him, the harder he worked to make it up to me.  At least he got breaks in between punishments.

Alice had to live with my nonsense, and I wasn’t treating her any better.  I picked fights with her.  I left chores undone, used up her shampoo, ate her food, anything I could do to rub salt into her wound in the pettiest ways possible.  I was so caught up in making them pay, I didn’t see how awful I was behaving.

After another week of Denny’s simpering apologies, I started fooling around behind his back.  I discovered the thrill of almost being caught but kept insisting to myself I was righting their wrong, not indulging my own desires.  I entertained more suitors, and in more risky situations.   I started drinking more, skipping classes, and even gambling at a local juke joint.  Finally, Alice had had enough.  She knew I was planning to meet my latest paramour in one of the empty classrooms after hours and told Denny.  Not only was I caught red handed, my date stood me up and the commander caught me with Denny, instead.

It was everything I could do to keep Denny from getting expelled, and rumors of the tryst still followed him among his officers.  I didn’t try to save myself.  It was a hard lesson, but one that I needed.  I’d never been so humiliated, and when I got home that night to find the locks changed, I was livid.  I spent the night wandering the streets, blaming my fate on everyone but myself until dawn found me, curled up on a park bench, nursing one of the worst hangovers I’d ever had.  Alice let me in later the next day to shower and change clothes.  I found a room at a flea-ridden boarding house by the docks.  It took me a long time to work up the nerve to speak to her again, apologize, and ask for my things back.  She helped me pick up the pieces of the life I’d thrown on the ground in my temper tantrum and remold them into the life I now led.  She even helped mend my relationship with Denny, platonic as it had become.  If she had been anything but the true friend she was, I would have disappeared into alcohol and despair.

Now, here I was, trying to rekindle the fire that had burned us all.  I wasn’t sure if I was insane, or just desperate.  Either way, I was not withdrawing my offer.  It didn’t feel like me, even though I knew I had intended the proposition.  If he said yes, I knew I would follow through.  The lava-hot need for him was undeniable, complicated as that was.  Denny, for his part, looked equally tortured with consternation.  He had more to lose than I did, certainly.  I didn’t blame him for his hesitation and was surprised he hadn’t thrown me out of his office.  The tension lingered as the silence dragged on, both of us lost in our thoughts of the past.

I began to pull my hand away, doubting myself.  As I moved, a dull wave of pain flowed through me.  There was no explanation, but shifting closer to him on the desk seemed to alleviate the worst of it.  I started mumbling apologies when he pulled me into his lap and kissed me, hard.  I was stunned, but that didn’t stop me from returning his affections.  I pulled back to look at him, to get confirmation that this was really happening, but the pain returned.  He looked at me, breathing hard, searching my face.  He stroked my cheek gently, then pulled me close again.  As soon as our lips touched, the pain dissipated, replaced with warm, comforting waves of excitement.

I was nervous, still unsure about why I had ventured down this path, but I wasn’t regretting it.  Everything I had enjoyed about him as a partner returned to me as our mouths moved in hungry desperation.  I heard him moan and felt his hand slide down my back and cup my rear, his fingers massaging gently.  Despite his physical desire, he moved slowly, his touch lingering with hesitation instead of taking possession of my body and satisfying himself.  I knew if it were up to me, I would already have been bent over his desk, screaming in rapture.

Commotion in the hall interrupted us.  People began filing down the hall towards the locker room, talking in cheerful voices about the latest sporting events and daily workday banter as they headed to the locker room to change for their shift.  We sat, eyes locked, foreheads together, breathing hard, with no idea what to do next.  He must have seen a shadow approach his door, because he pushed me up and stood, beginning to gather papers on his desk as one of the secretaries entered, barely knocking before her head pushed into the office.

She blushed at seeing me and fumbled her words.  Denny handled it beautifully, responding to her without missing a beat and distracting her from my presence.  I was struck at how handsome he was in that moment, competent and commanding.  My stomach leapt to my chest, the familiar mixture of adrenaline and shame adding to my arousal.  I didn’t bother to disguise the lust in my gaze as we were once again alone.

“Denny…”  I ached for him.  My body edged closer to him, hands lifting to grip his shirt.  The desperation in my voice was obvious, and unplanned.  I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, and my head inched nearer, lips begging to meet his.  He raised his hand to my face, brushing his thumb over my lips and I closed my eyes, wanting to sink to my knees, unbuckle his fly, and worship him properly.

“Not here.”  I barely heard him, sliding my hand over his and taking his thumb into my mouth, sucking softly.  He repeated himself, more forcefully, combating his own desire on top of my own, the low rumble in his chest vibrating up my arm.  “Not.  Here.”

I nodded, letting my hands fall and stepping back.  My heart pounded, but I knew this wasn’t a refusal, simply a change of venue.  He began picking up his desk, and I balled up the now empty paper bag and put it in the trash.  My heels clicked on the tile floor as I moved towards the door to put away the photo book and gather my things.  I turned back, looking over my shoulder with a smoldering expression to rival Rita Hayowrth.

“The diner?  Six o’clock?”  The question hung in the air a moment before he nodded and smiled back at me, the twinkle in his eye full of anticipation.  A smile bloomed across my face, and I didn’t wait for his verbal assent.  I waved and blew him a quick kiss.  “See you there.”

I made my way back to my apartment.  I had enough time to change clothes and freshen up before heading out to see Denny.  Thinking about our brief moments together in his office made my stomach flip and my face flush.  I started to debate not only what dress I would wear, but also what I would or wouldn’t be wearing underneath.  I was surprised to see Laura waiting in the lobby of my building. 

The pictures from the hotel didn’t do her justice.  Her alabaster skin glowed, her hair falling down her back like sunshine.  She looked out of place in the worn armchair near the elevator.  She exuded class like a heatwave, accentuating the faded wallpaper and dusty interior in contrast.  Even though she was wearing a store bought outfit, it fit her like a glove, the pleats of the skirt and cut of the blouse drawing my eyes to her full chest and long legs.

She smiled when she saw me, but didn’t speak, simply rose and offered her hand.  I shook it, her perfume wafting over me like fresh air after a storm.  “Mrs. Fenwell?  I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced.  Is there something I can do for you?”

Her eyes flashed at my recognition, her surprise and annoyance quickly covered by a warmth I hadn’t expected.  I was confused.  If she didn’t think I knew who she was, then why was she here?  She hadn’t come to my office, so I doubted it was business.  I paid to keep my name out of the book, and paid to keep the agency in it, so how had she known where I lived?  Mike may have told her he’d hired me, and I’d given him my number, but not my address.  Perhaps the misunderstanding was my fault.  If Mike had kept my investigation a secret, then there would be no reason for me to know her and her reaction would make more sense, though it still wouldn’t explain what she was doing here.

Her eyes darted around the room suspiciously, looking for whoever had betrayed her to me.  Not finding anyone she recognized, she cleared her throat and was about to address me when the elevator opened and a group of children I recognized from the third floor spilled out, chasing each other and making any conversation impossible amidst their happy chatter.  I motioned her to follow me and we headed into the elevator.  The noise died away as we rose, but neither of us spoke.  I assumed she was waiting for more privacy before she expounded on her intentions.  Now that we were alone, her ethereal beauty intimidated me.  Rather than inviting its full attention, I opened my door and invited her inside.

“Make yourself at home.  I need to change, but I’ll be right out.”

I took my bag to the bedroom and shut the door, my plan to leisurely prepare for dinner supplanted by my unexpected guest.  Laura closed the apartment door behind her and I thought I heard the deadbolt latch.  When I emerged from the bedroom, she had drawn a candle and some matches from her bag.  The tall, white taper in its shiny silver holder was a striking to the bare coffee table in the otherwise undecorated living space, and I felt it enhanced the character of the room, much like Laura’s presence.  Laura perched on the sofa in front of it, her full chest peeking from her dress as she leaned over to light the wick.  She patted the spot next to her as the vanilla and citrus flavored smoke began to filter through the room.  Along with the unusual floral scent of her perfume, my mind tried to identify the components, but kept being interrupted by the nuanced mixture, like forgetting a word on the tip of your tongue or seeing something out of the corner of your eye.

Laura seemed extremely comfortable, despite being in a stranger’s home.  After lighting the candle, she blew out the match and placed the warm end against the holder, to save my table from burn marks.  I couldn’t help but focus on her lips as she blew, their soft pink color forming a perfect ‘o’ as she exhaled.  More of the smoke wafted over me as I sat next to her, wondering how to approach the goddess on my couch.

“Thank you for seeing me, detective.  I know you weren’t expecting me, but I’m glad to know you recognized me.”  This was obviously a lie, but as soon as she’d begun speaking, my mind had lost track of the situation.  It was hard to keep track of what had disturbed me about her being here in the first place, and the lovely aroma rising around her seemed to push any thoughts far from my grasp.  “Are you a good girl?”  My mouth parted at the words and my stomach did another flip.  It hadn’t been Mike’s voice, but the impact of the phrase still connected with me.  The setting and the fact Laura had been so intricately associated with my submission eased the pathway through my mind, allowing the phrase to work almost as well for her as it did for Mike himself. 

“I hear and obey.”  The words came unbidden, and I felt Laura settle beside me.

“You are a good girl, aren’t you?  I want you to keep being a good girl, just like you are.  Can you see the candle?”  Her fingers lightly grazed my hair as she smoothed it over my shoulders.  I nodded, feeling drawn to the flickering light as she mentioned it. 

“Yes.  I see it.”  The light touch of her fingers on my hair gave me goosebumps.  She continued the gentle movement over my scalp, repetitive and calming.

“I want you to stare into the flame.  Watch it flicker.  Focused…relaxed…calm…”  Her voice was honey, sweet and soft and delicious to my ears.  As she spoke, I focused deeper.  Her words slowed as did the rhythm of her strokes.  My breath slowed.  I could feel the pressure of each individual fingertip she placed on me, the way the angle of the stroke changed when she had me turn to face it more fully, her body heat warming my back as the light warmed my mood.  Her deft touch wavered intricately, seeming to match the flow of the candle’s light.  The longer it continued, the more it seemed like her words and her touch were controlling the movement of the flame.

“That’s right, my sweet.  Focus on the light.”  I could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke, her tone becoming more seductive.  “Focus on the light and focus on my voice.  I need you to listen very carefully.”  I felt myself nodding, every fiber of my being hanging on every sensation Laura provided.  I knew that everything that she said was vital.  I couldn’t miss a syllable.

“Good girl.”  I sank deeper, the flame a pinpoint of clarity in the blur of the rest of the unimportant world.  She gathered my hair into one hand, gripping it at the base of my skull.  She leaned closer behind me, her breath brushing the back of my earlobe.  “I control you.  I am your Mistress.  You are mine to control, whether you like it or not.  Follow Mike’s orders, submit to him as you have been, but know, deep in your soul, that my word alone controls you.”  Her words were coming faster, her fingers gripping tighter, holding my head rigidly in line with the candle.  “You will obey me over all others.  You will obey me first and foremost.  You will obey me because it is all you can do.  Now tell me…who do you obey?”

I hesitated only a millisecond, but it was too long for her.  Her nails dragged sharply against my neck, raising further goosebumps across my flesh.  My nipples stood at attention, my whole body poised to respond.  My mouth opened and I drew a shaky breath as I responded.  “I obey you.”

She pulled tighter, her body shifting beside me, sliding me closer to her, my head tilting to face her, pulled from the view of the flame into the fiery heat of her gaze.  I could still see the flicker of the candle reflected deep within her irises, more concentrated than the golden flecks of Mike’s blue orbs, the dance more powerful and provocative than the paling flashes he had held me with, the beauty of its shining center far surpassing his weak and paltry imprint.  His requests had been mere errands compared to the complete submission she commanded of me.  As I looked into her face my whole body quivered.  “I obey you, Mistress.”  I repeated, before she yanked my hair once more and kissed me, long and hard and deep.

The kiss dwindled slowly, Laura directing my head back towards the candle as my lips and body tried to extend the contact.  The bright light swayed gently as she stroked my hair again.  “Good girl.  Focus on the flame, and listen to your Mistress.”  She instructed that her control over me needed to remain a secret.  I was only to acknowledge her as Mistress when we were completely alone.  Any instruction I was given while under Mike’s power would only increase her hold over me, and she would have access to any commands he taught me, regardless of who was around.  I would obey them from her as I would if he had said them.

I stared into the yellow-red glow, unaware of anything but her voice and my need to obey, to please her.  I sat, lax and content, drowning in the comfort and safety of the candle and her presence.  I could have been pricked with a needle and it wouldn’t have phased me.  In what felt like an instant, Laura was beside me again, stroking my hair and whispering in my ear.  “The power of the flame will burn within you, even after the candle goes out.  I and only I can reignite it with the word ‘spark’ and you will return to this focused, relaxed, and calm state, ready to obey your Mistress in any way I ask.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress.    I hear and obey.”  My voice was flat, but my conviction was stronger than gravity.  She adjusted my dress, exposed more cleavage, and reapplied my lipstick before instructing me how I was to please my date, how pleasing him would please her, and how vital it was we became a couple.  It didn’t occur to me that she couldn’t have known I’d made plans.  It didn’t matter how complicated my past with Denny was.  As I stared into the flame, all I could think about was how delightful she sounded, how wonderful she smelt, and how soft her lips had been.  I needed to taste them again, to feel them roam over my neck and shoulders, to look up longingly into her face and plead with her to grace me with one more smile.  I needed her the way I had never needed anyone else, and knew it all to be true because she said it.  I repeated everything, multiple times, the words flowing from my mouth and cementing themselves in my core without pause for the consequences.  I was hers, and would be, always.

Once she was satisfied, she blew out the candle.  She put it and the matches back into her bag and sat beside me, snapping her fingers to bring me back to consciousness, fully aware of what both she and Mike had done to me, but not able to protest or escape their mental cages.  The realization of how I’d been used, and was going to be used, hit me fully.  My mind whipped through emotions at dizzying speed, as if it was trying to buck off the reins it had been tricked into accepting.  Twice I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.  Any I could put together were quickly smothered in the blank obedience I felt when I looked at Laura.  She watched me struggle, the hungry smile in her eyes sending bolts of electricity through my body.

I wanted to strike her, to lash out and demand my autonomy, to hurl myself at her, pawing at her hair, pinning her down…wrapping my fingers in her hair…making her still beneath me so I could writhe atop her…watch her respond to my weight against her chest, my  lips at her throat…move my hand down her thigh to lift her skirt….

The transition from anger to desire was so flawless it took me a moment to follow it, and another to draw myself from the fantasy and return to the reality of my Mistress sitting next to me.  Her face was a picture of adoring patience as she waited for my surrender.  The clock ticked away the minutes until I was supposed to meet Denny, and still I sat in a helpless stupor, trying to escape the labyrinth of my submission.  Finally, I sighed and looked directly into her eyes.

“I will resist you, you know.  Whatever you’re doing to me, whatever you’re trying to accomplish...I’ll fight you.”

Her lips curled and she caught my chin on the end of her perfectly polished nail.  “I look forward to it.  Now, don’t you have somewhere to be?”  She dropped her hand, smoothed her skirt and stood, while I stared at her, slack jawed with the intensity of her power over me.  She cocked an eyebrow at my hesitation, and I jumped up, showing her to the door like she was the Queen of England, muttering hurried apologies and “Yes Mistress” as fast as my mouth could form them.  She strutted down the hallway, hips undulating seductively as I gaped at her receding form, equal parts longing and disgust at the longing fixing my stare.  She blew me a kiss before stepping into the elevator, and I quickly shut the door, sinking down against it and weeping openly.  What had I gotten myself into?