Chapter Five: The Master's Study
Floor-to-ceiling mahogany bookshelves lined one wall of Master Aries' study. Opposite the shelves, an elegant writing desk was overlooked by an oil painting, in the pre-Raphaelite style, of a naked woman, bound and ecstatic. A small hearth crackled in one corner, its orange glow against the burgundy damasked walls evoking a cozily masculine atmosphere.
I sat in an antique upholstered chair by the fire, beads of sweat forming along my hairline and trickling between my breasts in the over-warm room. Master Aries stood before me, dressed as I imagined a nineteenth century gentleman might when he was at his leisure. Behind him, bolted to the wall, a handsome St. Andrew's cross gleamed darkly in the firelight.
"Perdita," Aries said. "Can I offer you something to drink?"
It was the first time I had been alone with him since those brief moments the night before. I blushed as I remembered how, soon afterward, he had casually ordered his friends to fuck me and my fellow sub, Olive. I coughed nervously.
"I'd love a glass of wine, if you have it?"
Aries nodded and strolled over to a cabinet near his desk.
"So," he said, conversationally, as he uncorked a bottle of red wine with a practiced flourish. "How has your day gone since I saw you this morning?"
He returned with a glass for us each and took a seat across from me, crossing his legs comfortably.
"Pretty well," I said, and then hesitated before adding, "...Sir."
Aries grinned and waggled his eyebrows mischievously at the title. I couldn't stop myself from smiling in response, and felt myself relax a little.
"Tell me about it," he continued. "Did you walk in the gardens?"
"No. I should have, I guess, but I—to be honest, I was tired. I spent most of the afternoon in my room."
"Hm. And how did you find your task this morning?"
I found I couldn't meet his gaze as I recalled how, under his instruction, I'd knelt in the breakfast room that morning, providing oral sex to a lineup of men.
"Ah, I found it... pleasant, Sir."
"I'm happy to hear it. I want you to continue that routine each morning for the remainder of the week."
Every morning! I thought of the small handful of men I had been intimate with before I married Oscar, and how quickly that number would become negligible if my time at Eros House continued the way it was going. A strange bubble of laughter rose in my throat.
"Am I amusing you, Perdita?" Aries asked.
"I'm just happy," I said, shyly.
He took a measured sip of his wine, set it down, and interlaced his fingers.
"Tell me," he said, "why did you come to Eros House?"
I hesitated. He'd read my application, hadn't he? Tongue-tied, I searched for an answer that didn't sound ridiculous.
"To, uh, learn to be a better submissive?"
Aries nodded slightly.
"Right, but what does that mean to you?"
A sheen of sweat covered my skin as I thought of what to say. There was—has always been—a hard, protective shell around the part of me that Aries was asking about: personal things, personal, sexual things. I'd been building it since my early days, and I was very practiced at letting no one in. Hardly Oscar, even; hardly myself.
With a reckless trust I took a deep breath.
"Well, for as long as I can remember, I've had these... desires. Sometimes a specific fantasy, sometimes just a feeling of wanting to be... um, dominated. Taken. Used. Of being allowed to be overtly sexual, you know? Ridiculously so. In a way that I just never felt I had permission to be, I guess."
I felt faint, dizzy from the rush of saying things I'd spent my whole life trying to keep hidden. My heart hammered in my chest. But Aries still was looking at me with the same quiet interest, and when I dared to looked into his deep brown eyes, my fears—that I'd be laughed at, that he'd recoil—dissolved enough that I found the bravery to continue. For if not here, then when?
"Go on," said Aries gently.
"And I guess I feel conflicted, having these desires, because there are people out there who would say that wanting these kinds of things, as a woman, is proof that... you know. Proof of some kind of fucking 'natural order' between men and women."
I finished, my chin quivering with suppressed anger as I spat out the final sentence.
Aries said nothing, and waited.
"And it's like, I know that's not true. I know that bullshit breaks down when you consider any other dynamic than a submissive woman and a dominant man, I know kink is not un-feminist, but it's like, I know these things on an intellectual level. But I can still feel those shitty opinions, and it makes me feel angry. Or maybe afraid. I don't know."
Quietly, he said,
"Afraid of what?"
"That my body is betraying my principles, I guess. That maybe I only want these things because they've won. Or, worse—that they're right."
I felt emotion beginning to clamp my throat tight, and paused to take a shaky sip of wine.
"And I fucking know they're not right. When I met Oscar, I finally found someone I could see sharing these parts of me with, who doesn't make me feel like I'd be admitting defeat to reveal my submissive fantasies. But even though I believe it's ok to want the things I want, to have that kind of vulnerability, it's hard to get out of my own way. It's like I don't know how to access the kind of power dynamic I'm looking for, now that I've found someone I want to explore it with. I still keep battling myself. I have this sense of pride that stops me from really letting go, like I have to keep guarding myself.
"So I guess I wanted to come here to gain some perspective. To see if I can get out of my head and learn through experience what until now I've largely only had an intellectual stance on. And I guess I thought it might be easier to do that with someone with whom I didn't have all the other complications of marriage and friendship and history and a life together."
When I was done, Master Aries uncrossed his legs and leaned forward candidly.
"Thank you for sharing that with me," he said. "I'm honoured that you did."
I nodded. It was alarming to have told this man so much—some of which I had not yet fully articulated even to myself—but there was a sense of relief to it that was almost palpable.
Aries carefully set his drink on an end table and reached out for my hands. His were warm and dry, and I could feel the strength in them. Tears pricked my eyes.
"I sincerely hope," he said, "that you find everything you're looking for here, and more besides. You're not the first person to be plagued with those doubts, Perdita. But I think your instincts are good, and you should trust that. And I am certainly looking forward to seeing what kind of perspective you may gain here."
He stood, and walked around behind my chair. I felt the light touch of his hands on my shoulders, and he leaned down close to my ear.
"And know this: in my house," he said, his voice low and clear, "we love women quite a lot. We love them when they're the ones deftly wielding control, like my wife, Mistress Agrippa. And we love them quivering on the floor, helpless, begging to be fucked."
My body, already aroused from the thrill of vulnerability, caught like kindling at his words. I tilted my head to feel his breath on the skin of my neck.
Did he just say he was married to Agrippa?
I closed my eyes and let the thought go.
"Will you stand up for me, Perdita?" Aries said, straightening. I did, and heard the scrape of my chair against the floor as he nudged it out of the way with his foot. My palms were sweating, and I clenched and released them.
"Now, I had planned this afternoon to introduce you to that very lovely St. Andrews cross you see on the wall behind me."
He traced a finger along my exposed neck, and my breath shuddered and caught in my throat as I struggled not to lose my balance and swoon into him.
"What do you think, Perdita? Shall I broaden your perspective a little?"
I nodded my head.
"Yes, please, Sir," I breathed.
He drew back, and I hung aching in the silence.
"Remove your dress for me," he said.
I reached up and unfastened the clasps that held my dress together at the shoulders, and it fluttered to the floor. Underneath, I wore only a pair of plain white cotton panties and summer heels.
"The shoes, too."
I stepped out of them, one at a time, and placed my bare feet on the fine hearth rug.
Aries walked around to face me, slowly, and I shivered for his touch.
"Lovely," he murmured.
For a moment I wondered if he was going to kiss me.
Instead, Master Aries reached into his pocket and produced a small black square of silk.
He let it unfold into a long strip, dangling it before my eyes.
"This is a blindfold," he said, and I nodded, willing him to put it on me.
As he reached his hands around to fasten the tie around the back of my head, I could feel his body heat, smell his skin and the faint scent of laundry soap on the sleeves of his crisp white shirt. The soft fabric of the blindfold covered my eyes, obscuring my vision, and I gasped as I felt the smart tug of the knot being secured.
"I'm pleased with how well you've taken my instruction so far, and we're only just getting started, my little whore. You remember the safe words, yes?"
Hot arousal bloomed between my thighs as I answered,
"Yes, Sir. I remember."
"Good," he said, withdrawing his hands. I wanted to turn my face into his palm, to take his thumb into my mouth, but instead he clasped me by the wrist and led me, blind and naked, toward the far side of the room.
I could feel the plush fibres of the rug beneath my bare feet, and the heat from the fireplace as I walked toward and then past the source of its warmth.
We came to a stop.
I couldn't tell whether I could feel the presence of the cross near before me or was only imagining so, but my breathing quickened as I waited for the next sensation, the next clue.
"Are you nervous?" He whispered the words in my ear.
