Betrayed by my own stomach

It is finally Friday, and I am excited.

When I told Rachel what Owen said, she was shocked. "He has never personally trained anyone. Typically, he requires experience."

"Maybe he felt sorry for me?” I give a little shrug. “I have no idea. But he is paying me two thousand dollars for a weekend."

"Are you nervous?" 

"Yes, very, but I am also really excited."

"Just don't get attached. To my knowledge, Owen has never had a girlfriend. I think it has something to do with his dad being gone.”

“What happened to him?”

“His dad died before he was born, and his mom had to leave her home."

"Why was she forced to leave her home?"

"It's a long story, but she lived with his family. After his death, they forced her to leave. I know they had to move around a lot, and it never was easy for them."

"Wow. That's awful. Maybe that is why Owen agreed to do this. He and I have some similarities when it comes to family. Maybe he is helping himself by helping me."

She rolls her eyes. "Okay, Dr. Mel."

I scoff. When I finish packing, I turn to Rachel. "I think I have everything. I will pay you for half of the bills when I get home. At least I am hoping he will pay me then."

She shrugs, "I'm not the worried about it, love. I know where you live." We both laugh. Then we head off to the club.

I am not wearing anything super fancy. Owen sent me a text Thursday telling me he would provide clothes to wear while I am with him. I just need to wear something to the club and something home. I don't have grading this weekend, but I do have quite a bit of writing. I am hoping to have a few hours every day to contribute to my dissertation.

Rachel and I walk up to the door of his office and stop. I look at her; she gives me a reassuring smile, "you got this." I nod. She hugs me and leaves. Checking the time, I realize there are still ten minutes. Is that too early? Should I wait? If he catches me waiting, will he be upset? What if he isn't even here yet?

I finally get the courage to knock. Right as I am about to touch the door, it flies open. Owen is standing there, looking at me like he is going to eat me. I look at his eyes; they almost look black for a second. I blink, and they are amber. My nerves are getting to me; taking a deep breath, I look back up at him. He is smiling. "Come in, Mel."

"I am sorry, am I too early?"

Owen shakes his head, "Not at all. I'm glad you're here. Please have a seat on the couch. We have a lot to discuss." He reaches for my bag. "Let me take this for you." I give him the small bag and walk in when he gestures me to come inside. I walk to the couch and sit down. "Have you thought about things you might like to try or things you know you definitely don't want to try?" He asks while placing my bag next to his desk. Owen grabs some papers and walks towards me.

"I don't want scars. I am not sure how I feel about humiliation, either."

"Well, we can test to see where your limits are.” He sits on the chair opposite the couch. “This weekend, I want to start slow and build your trust. A relationship like this is about trust." He places a contract on the table between us. "Here is an outline of what I have planned during these three months. I do not want you to have a boyfriend or date while you’re in a contract with me. I want your attention when you're not at school. When you arrive, the first thing I want you to do is to come to my office. We will take your things up to my apartment. Next, you will change into the clothes I provide." I nod my head and continue to listen. "Each week, we will try different things. When we find something you like, we will write it down. If we find something you don't like, we will discuss what you didn't like about it and go from there. It will be considered a hard or soft limit."

"What are the differences between limits?" I feel odd asking questions. I don’t want him to think I am incompetent.

"Soft limit is something that you don't mind doing on occasion if the other person is really into it. Hard limits are a definite line."

"I see."

"When something is becoming too much, and you need to slow down, the word to say is ‘mercy.’ If you need to stop completely, say ‘red.’ If you have a gag in your mouth, turn your head side to side slowly." I nod. "Don't be afraid to tell me how you're feeling. I will probably ask you a lot at the beginning. Just until I can read your body better."

"Are we going to have sex?" Why am I asking, do I want to have sex? With him, yes, but is it too soon? We don't know each other.

"Do you want to?" Owen asks. He arches an eyebrow. He's so smug; he knows he's hot. Maybe I don't want to have sex with him.

"I am not sure. I don't know what to expect. I did a little research but nothing in-depth. I discussed somethings with Rachel and well," I pause for a minute, "she was Rachel."

He let out a laugh, "Rachel is comfortable with who she is." I nod. "Are you ready to continue?"

"Yes, of course. Sorry if I got off-topic."

"Don't apologize for asking questions." His voice is stern; a shiver runs down my spine. Yet somehow, I start to feel an ache at the pit of my stomach. One that only he could heal. "After we get set up in my apartment, we will come back to my office where I will watch you clean. When you finish, I'll have you kneel next to me until I am ready to have you."

"To have me?"

"Start whatever activity I have planned. It might be bondage, spanking, teasing, or using that beautiful mouth of yours." My breath hitches and I can feel myself becoming aroused. I did my best to stay calm. When I look into his eyes, it is like he is starving, and I am his meal. There is some part of me that wants that. He shakes his head; clearly, he is as caught up as I am. "When you address me, it will either be Sir or Master. Do you agree?" I nod. He smiles at me while handing me a pen and sliding the contract over to me. I sign then give everything back to him. "Great, come with me upstairs." We stand up, and he grabs my bag. We head to the door on the opposite side of his office. There is a private hall that leads up to a stairwell. We go upstairs, he unlocks the door, then holds it open for me. When I brush past him, tingles fill my body. It is like when my body is no longer in contact with him, it burns. He must have felt something too because he shakes his head. "I'll show you around."

We begin our tour, "Here is the living room, though there is the kitchen. Please feel free to help yourself to any food or anything. Down this hall is a half bath and a spare bedroom I fixed up to give you a little office."

"You gave me a space to work?" I am in shock.

He nods, "Your work is important to you, right?"

"Yes, very."

"Then it's important to me. Anytime you are in this type of relationship with someone, make sure you are a priority. If someone you are with doesn’t try and help you achieve your dream, then that person is not worth your time." We walk down the hall, and he shows me the room. It is larger than my room at home. There is a large desk with a huge office chair that looks super comfy. I walk to the desk; there is a notebook, pens and pencils, and an extra laptop charger. I turn to face him.

"How did you know what kind of laptop I have?"

"Rachel told me, I wanted to make sure I have everything to help you be successful." This simple gesture really touched me. I take my laptop, notebook, and books out of my bag and place them on the desk. "Come with me, and I will show you our room."

Did he just our room? That seems intimate for something that is mainly about sexual gratification. "Isn't that a little intimate?" When I look at him, hurt flashes on his face, then it’s gone.

"I want to have access to you whenever. If I wake up in the middle of the night and want you, I don't want to have to walk across the apartment."

"I understand. It just threw me off. Rachel told me not to get attached." I see his fists clench. Did he feel the same as me? Something in me wants to be close to him. All I want to do is make him happy, to see him smile, to please him.

I shake my head. What's wrong with me? Tonight is my second time meeting this guy, and the only thing I want to do is give myself to him. We reach his bedroom. I am not sure what I am expecting. Whips, chains, and crazy torture devices, I suppose. Instead, it’s just a bedroom. The décor is beautiful, but it is not what I picture for his bedroom. "My mom decorated it. She's an interior designer. She did the whole apartment."

"I thought it looked too nice for you to have done it," I smile at him, so he knows I am teasing.

He licks his lips and smiles at me back. "Don't forget, when we start, I can spank you for making cheeky comments." Then he gives me a wink.

I bit my lower lip; he lets out a growl. I jump and look over at him. His eyes are darker. "If you bite your lip again, know that I will bite it too." I feel my body respond to his threat. There is a part of me that desperately wants him. I feel a growing desire in my core. I look at him again, and his nostrils flare. And are his eyes black? I blink, and they are back to their amber color. "We have my room downstairs to see. I'll place your bag on the chair." With that, we head back downstairs.

We go back through his office. On the way, he points out places in the club. The bar, a room with a stage for performances, a long hall of different rooms for fantasies, then we go down another set of stairs. "This is the basement. Special members pay a lot of money to have private rooms. Mine is at the end of the hall." The hall is well lit, and everything is clean and calming. Each door we pass has a different number. When we arrive at the end of the hall, Owen pulls out a key to unlock the door. "I don’t want you to freak-out when you see what is inside. We are going to start slow." I give a quick nod.

He opens the door. I step inside. Owen turns on the lights, and I let out a sharp gasp. There are different whips and canes on a rack, belts and paddles hang from hooks on the wall. The room is an ‘L’ shape. A bench is set at the end of the room, next to that stands a St. Andrews cross. A bed is on the adjacent wall. There is what looks to be a dresser across from the bench; I wonder what is inside of it. I look up at the ceiling to find "I" hooks. "There is a private bathroom through this door," he gestures to the left. "Feel free to look around."

I walk around the room. I slide my hand on the bench and the big X. Then I stare at the whips. I let my fingers trace along one wrapped in a circle. Next, I pick up a bamboo cane. Though a part of me is anxious and overwhelmed, another part of me wants to find out what he will do to me. "Will these break my skin?"

"I won't hit you hard enough to break the skin or leave scars." He smiles at me and tingles race through my body.

"So, what do we do now?"

"Let's head back up to the apartment, and we can begin."

"We aren't going to start here?" I ask with surprise and disappointment.

He chuckles. "No, not yet. Maybe next week." He is leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. 

"Want me to tell you what everything is?" I nod and bite my lip. He stands right behind me, pushing his chest into my back; I can feel his erection pressing into me. Unknowingly I start to lean back against him. I continue to worry my lower lip in my teeth when he lets out a low growl. It vibrates his chest. "What have I said about that." He caresses my cheek. I find myself leaning into his touch.

"I'm sorry, Master." I give a cheeky smile. I feel him pull away. A second later, a loud smack echoes through the room. He spanked me. I let out a yelp and turn around to stare at him wide-eyed.

There is a smirk on his face. "Don't be cheeky." He raises his hand to caress my cheek. "That wasn't too hard, was it?"

"No, Master." I didn't want to tell him that I liked it and wanted him to do it again. What if it went too far? No, taking things slow is the best course of action.  

"Mmm… I like hearing you call me that. We can finish this tour later. For now, let's go back up to my apartment." He grabs my hand and leads me back through the club towards his office.

When we arrive at his office, a woman is standing by the door. She is gorgeous. She has tan skin, curves in all the right places, piercing green eyes, and dark brown wavy hair. She smiles at Owen; her smile quickly fades when she sees our interlocking hands and me. "Hello, Sir. I wanted to stop by and make sure you didn't need company." She glances back at me. I am very plain compared to her; the tight leather dress hugs her curves. She places her hand on Owen's chest and begins to run her fingers down. "My clients didn't give me what I needed tonight. Do you think you could take an hour and help me out, I would be ever so grateful?" The woman is pushing her breast into Owen, but he doesn’t seem phased. When I try to pull my hand away, he holds it tighter.

"I have taken a sub, Andrea." His voice is stern. She takes a step back then gives me a death glare. Owen notices and pulls me behind him. "We were just fun. You have no reason to be upset about anyone I choose to take. Especially when I know you have many others." Andrea almost looks afraid.

Her expression quickly changes to passive. "You are right. I am not sure what came over me. I guess I am not used to hearing someone say no to me." She looks at me. "I'm sorry. No hard feelings?" She sticks her hand out for me to shake. I let go of Owen's hand and take hers. She gives me a fake smile and leaves.

Owen opens the office door, and we go inside. As soon as he shuts the door, I ask, "Why didn't you agree to be with her tonight?" He freezes. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked. It just surprised me that you turned her down. I assume she has experience in what you like, and she's pretty. I would have understood you wanting her tonight and not me."

Owen didn't look at me while I spoke. To be honest, I am not sure what to expect. Will he look at me and go "you're right" and chase after Andrea? Or will he tell me that he wants me more? I need him to say something. The silence is driving me mad. Owen let out a deep sigh and turns towards me. "Andrea is pretty yes. She is also bratty and demanding." He pauses and steps closer toward me. He put his hands on my cheeks. "I am not going to share my bed with anyone but you. I will follow the same rules I expect you to follow. We need to have trust. I have something in mind to help us build it" he smiles at me and retakes my hand.

Soon we are back in the apartment. Owen moves the furniture, so the middle of the living room is open. He motions for me to come to him. "Take off your shoes, socks, and your top."

I feel the color fade from my face. Quickly I remove my socks and shoes. I pause before pulling off my shirt; I look over at Owen. He is standing in his dark grey slacks. My eyes slowly move up to his chiseled abs and chest. I want to run my hands over his body. Rachel wasn't lying when she said he looks like a Greek God. When I make it to his face, there is a smirk. "Do I meet your standards, Mel?"

I blush. "Sorry, I'm nervous. It's been a while since anyone has looked at my body. Besides Rachel."

He steps closer to me, so our bodies are touching. His hands go to the sides of my face. "You didn't do anything wrong. If you apologize for nothing again, I will punish you". I feel a shiver go down my spine at the mention of punishment. Will he spank me like he did earlier? He takes a step back, "Shirt."

After taking a deep breath, I turn around and pull the shirt over my head. I quietly curse myself for wearing a basic black bra while I fold my shirt. I lay it next to my shoes and turn around. When I do, Owen takes a sharp breath. I stare down at my feet before looking at him. His amber eyes are staring at me like he is memorizing every bit of my body. After shaking his head, he sits down on the rug and extends his hand out to me. I take it, and Owen pulls me into his lap, so I am facing him. "Relax," Owen whispers as I settle straddling him. Easier said than done, buddy is all I can think. He places my hand on his chest and holds it there. Then he puts his hand on my chest. As a reflex, my other hand joins his. "Look at me, Mel." I don't want to look at him. My body is burning with need and desire. I want him to touch me; I want to touch him. Finally, I met his eyes. We stay like that for either seconds, minutes, or hours. Time seems to stop. I notice our heartbeats and breathing are in sync.

He leans in, "do you feel that our heartbeats have synced?". I nod my head, not breaking eye contact, and start leaning into him. We drop our hands. I wrap my arms around his neck while he wraps his around my waist, pulling me closer. Barely at a whisper, he says, "You're beautiful, Mel." His lips lightly brush mine. I close my eyes and allow my lips to graze his—heat shots through me. I want him; I push closer towards him. His lips come back firmer. I kiss him with the same urgency he is kissing me. His tongue slides over my bottom lip. I part my lips, giving him access to my mouth—his tongue dances with mine. Finally, I pull back, gasping for air. He is breathing heavily too. His amber eyes stare into my grey ones. Right as I am about to say something, my stomach grumbles.