I am blessed with an inheritance from my grandmother. I still have to work. But I bought a turn of the century home in a beautiful neighborhood and enjoy my walks among the mature trees.
I bought a great dog. Malora was a precocious Mastiff baby, but is now a well-behaved girl. I find a lot of pleasure in a well-trained pup.
I also find a great deal of pleasure in a well groomed yard. Malora and I spend time in the nature sanctuary that is my back yard, pulling weeds and trimming. We watch the hummingbirds hover early in the day and Malora chases off the black birds of a night.
Marlora is a kind spirit really. The neighbor finds it necessary to foster homeless cats. They lie in our drive, sunning. At night, the coyotes cry from the nature preserve a few roads over. They would love to hunt the lost and lingering cats of our neighborhood. Malora keeps them from our neck of the street.
We believe in guidance for the misled. Coyotes are misled to mess with Miss Malora. She guides them away.
**
I have a friend. Anthony is a dear friend who has a wonderful woman. We meet for drinks and he tells me about her. She's immensely devoted to him and will do whatever he asks. Sexually or otherwise.
"She worships my cock. When she sucks me she looks at me as though I'm her god."
"So, what's the problem?"
"She needs a goddess."
I smile over my wine in the knowledge of exactly what she needs. If I haven't done it, I've seen it or read it.
Anthony and I did some of it ourselves many years ago. Truly rough and tumble. But as much as I enjoy submitting sexually, it's the otherwise that gets me. I'm much too stubborn to submit for more than a few hours or an evening.
"I want to give her to you," Anthony tells me.
"Anthony, my dear, why?" He must spell it out for me to accept.
"I love her. Enough to give her what she needs. I need to be the one to give it to her."
"But I would be the one giving it to her."
"Because I allowed it."
"Fair enough," I say.
I understand him. His love for her. His desire for me to have her. He and I understand each other and I understand what she needs. Still, I want to hammer out some details.
"What do you want?"
"To set her up. She won't be able to resist you. You are everything she desires in a woman. Your long, dark hair. Your full breasts. Your height."
Anthony continues. "I want to leave her for you to find."
"What can I do with her?"
"Anything you wish," Anthony plies. "She would be yours to have."
I pretend to ponder the offer. I look over my wine glass and away from his eyes.
"Liz," he starts. "I want you to make her your bitch."
My bitch. I trained my bitch, Malora. I know I can train this one.
I smile and offer my hand.
"An agreement, then?"
"Yes," Anthony responds. "An agreement."
**
It's a Friday evening, two weeks further. I take the day from work to set up my home and to prepare myself. I put on a black dress with my knee high riding boots. My curls hang around my shoulders.
He's going to leave her in my territory. Take her to dinner, pay and leave her. I will find her.
She's a smart little thing and might know he's up to something. Anthony always is with her. But this, no this she will not see coming.
I walk to the Hearthstone and sit at the bar. He's left her at a table in the back. Soon she'll come looking for him.
Until then, I sip my glass of Malbec. A velvety red wine sure to go to my head if I have too many.
I watch the mirror behind the bar and see her come to the front looking for him in desperation. She's exactly like he described. A petite thing. Golden blonde. Wide eyes.
As she comes into the bar, I turn to face her. She seems startled at first but then comforted when I say, "Lost?"
"Oh God," she says. "I think he left me here."
"Nonsense," I offer. "He'll be back for you."
She goes to the front door and looks down the street. She looks panicky as she walks toward me.
"His car is gone."
"Stay here with me," I tell her. "Until he comes back."
She takes on last look around and climbs onto the barstool next to me.
"You'll have wine with me. Yes?" I begin.
Without her answering, I order another glass of the deep red and have it brought to her. A new light plays behind her eyes. It's the beginnings of the fire Anthony's told me about.
I offer my hand, black nails glinting. "I'm Liz."
"Jodi." Her tiny hand fits inside mine. "He's up to something, Liz. I can feel it."
"What on earth would he be up to?" I smile an easy smile.
Jodi catches herself talking of personal things with a stranger and backs off a bit. Her face flushes with embarrassment.
"Oh. I'm sure I'm just imagining it.'
"Of course you are." My smile widens a bit. I try not to look like the predator I am. "Tell me, Jodi, what do you like to do with your spare time?"
I know full well from my talks with Anthony what her habits are. Sucking his cock, taking his cock and otherwise worshipping his cock. She's very cock-centric, this one.
"I, well, I bake and..." I love watching her struggle for a truth she can share. "...and I generally spend most of my time with Anthony."
"Anthony?" I play. "Is that his name?"
"Yes," she says dreamily.
"You love him," I state.
"I do." Her cheeks become pink again.
"I'm sorry," I say. "I'm so forward. Let's just talk."
I clink my wine glass against hers. "To new friends."
**
An hour and two glasses of wine pass for Jodi before she stops checking the door and is paying strict attention to me.
"You trained a dog that big?" she asks.
"It's not that difficult. It's a matter of being consistent," I say. I stroke her hand. "And being a good disciplinarian."
Instead of turning that perfect shade of pink from earlier, she tilts her head down and looks up through her thick lashes. She smiles. There's that fire again.
"Jodi," I touch her cheek. "We'll call Anthony and have him pick you up at my house. We can walk there from here. We'll sit on the porch with a glass of wine until he gets there."
"Yes, let's do that."
I pick up my phone and dial Anthony's number.
"Hello?" I say.
"I've been waiting," he responds.
"Patience."
I hand my phone to Jodi in answer to the question on her face.
"It's for you," I say.
Her light skin turns even paler. My predatory smile emerges. She takes the phone. I know what he's telling her. We've discussed it. I know what to listen for. The yes's.
"Jodi?" he asks
"Yes?" There is a tremor in her voice.
"Say yes if you understand me. Liz is a dear friend of mine."
"Yes."
"You are my gift to her."
"Yes."
"You will obey her like you would me."
"Yes." She looks at me with trepidation.
"I will not leave you with her too long. I will come for you."
"Yes." I think she may tear up.
"Be good."
"Yes."
He hangs up and she hands me the phone.
I lift her chin with my fingertips, stir up most of my compassion and ask, "Do you understand?"
"He just left me with you?"
I take her hand and rap it with my knuckles. "Once again. Do you understand? Yes or no?"
She takes a deep breath of resignation. "Yes."
"Good girl." I smile at her. "Let's go now. You will follow me."
I walk toward the exit with her following close behind. Once out on the sidewalk, I pick up the pace. She keeps up. It pleases me.
We walk the few blocks to my home. Malora parts the curtains on the door's window with her massive head as she hears the key in the lock. A happy wuff vibrates the old milk glass.
"You will wait just outside the threshold until I come back for you," I tell Jodi.
I open the door and ruffle the fur atop Malora's head. "Hello, mama's baby girl." Her bottom wiggles at the sound of my voice. I hang my purse on one of the hooks by the door and look at the pretty pink dog collar I'd left on the parlor table.
"Step just inside," I tell Jodi.
She does as I tell her, a look of shock still on her face. She's not yet assimilated what's happening to her.
With the main door open and only an antique screen door between her and the world, I tell her, "Take off your clothing."
Her eyes plead with me as she stands still.
"Do not make me tell you twice again. Now, take off your clothes," I say flatly.
She reaches for the hem of her blouse, lifts it over her head and reveals lace-covered, perfect breasts. But, she's moving too slowly. I step into her personal space. Space she is no longer allowed.