Dangerous Woman
The screen door banged shut behind her as she came back into the house, loaded down with bags. The shopping trip with Cathy had seemed like a weirdly exhilarating reality-show segment, where a dumpy housewife gets to spend far too much money on gorgeous clothes. Except that Melissa hadn't felt the least bit dumpy, even when the clothes weren't flattering, or they highlighted her belly pudge, which had lately made her feel so self-conscious. Cathy had such a generous, matter-of-fact approach to what worked and didn't work that Melissa had never felt judged.
Instead, the two of them were more like a team, playing with what they knew about Erik's tastes and the realities of Melissa's body. When something didn't look flattering, Cathy simply shook her head thoughtfully and said, "Let's try this instead." Many of the things that Cathy found had made Melissa look stunning, which left her both surprised and elated. Melissa had never been as successful at picking out good clothes when she went shopping by herself. "Of course," she reminded herself, "I never go to those sorts of stores. My God, we must have spent thousands!"
A couple of times, there was something that almost looked right, but Cathy dismissed it, saying, "I don't know. A few more weeks working out with Amy might help, but really, this dress is for anorexic models. The whole point is finding you clothes that are effortless. We want something that makes you look great, without trying."
Cathy had guided her toward an all-American, Ralph Lauren look. Everything they bought was very sexy but in an understated, casual style. Almost nothing had an 'in your face' eroticism. The sensuality often came from the sheerness of the fabric or a slightly deeper or more revealing cut. Even a blouse or two that they had gotten with plunging lines had soft folds that would only occasionally drape open, rather than some ridiculous v-neck that reached down to the bellybutton.
Cathy had also found her two wrap skirts, with slits that opened to reveal a surprising amount of leg when Melissa sat or even walked briskly. One of the wrap skirts was a maxi-length. Melissa was pleased with how her height added more drama as the long wrap would flutter open and closed when she walked.
There were several lace skirts that Cathy had helped her pick out. After buying them, Cathy had taken a sewing tool out of her purse and casually removed the lining from the skirts, leaving them with just enough opacity not to be completely outrageous. The sales clerk had been astonished to watch the process. Cathy had then smiled politely as she slid the linings across the counter and asked the clerk if she would please put them in the trash.
Melissa looked forward to modeling her purchases for Erik, and perhaps Serena, but a quick look at the kitchen clock confirmed she only had a few minutes until her session with Sensei Mike.
She was fairly certain that 'sensei' was a Japanese word for a martial arts teacher. Beyond that, she wasn't sure what this next encounter would entail. She was more lighthearted about her uncertainty, however, than she had been in the morning. As Erik had predicted, her shopping trip with Cathy had left her in a more settled mood. For the moment, at least, she was feeling at peace with the strange turn her life had taken.
Walking to her room, she didn't see Erik anywhere in the house. She wondered where he was. "Probably," she said out loud, "coming up with more ways to torment me." Instead of anger, however, she felt a naughty thrill of anticipation.
Entering her room, she saw laid out on her bed a white cotton martial arts outfit and a sports bra. She laughed at the continued absence of panties, declaring to the empty room, "Boys will be boys."
As quickly as she could, she changed into the martial arts outfit, although she struggled a bit with how to wrap and tie the long cotton belt. Erik hadn't left her any shoes to go with the new clothes. She decided that her wedges or any of the other heels in her closet would look silly, so she went barefoot. She and Cathy had deferred any shoe shopping to later in the week since she already had a half dozen new pairs in her closet.
Cathy had told her that Erik had plans for the two of them to go clothes shopping a couple of times a week, for at least a few weeks. Melissa had been shocked to learn that Cathy's full-time job was shopping for clothes. She worked mainly for movie and television production companies, helping them with wardrobe purchases. She also had a network of private clients, several of whom were in the bondage, discipline, and sadomasochism world.
Melissa looked at the pile of shopping bags that she had deposited next to the bed, hoping that she would get to keep all these clothes when the summer ended. Most of them could be toned down by wearing a slip or by adding a discreet fastener. Thinking ahead to the end of the summer made her pensive. With a snort, she shoved that mood aside and set out with a deliberately springy, happy stride.
When she reached the main part of the house, she discovered Erik just coming in the front door. From the upper level, he looked over the railing and called out, "I guess you had a lot of fun shopping, skipping around like like that."
"Oh, we had a love-e-ly time. Perfectly wonderful."
"Good, well, come on up. We shouldn't keep Mike waiting."
"Sure." Melissa hurried up the steps, happy to be in bare feet after too much time in tall heels.
Walking out the screen door together, she asked, "So is it Mike? Or Sensei Mike?"
"Well, really Mike. He's not very formal. He's also not into the whole kink thing, but when you're learning from him, calling him sensei is just a traditional sign of respect. And the guy deserves it; he's an amazing teacher."
"Yeah, so what is it, exactly, that I'm supposed to be learning? It's not obvious how martial arts fits into the whole sex slave thing."
"True, true. It might seem a strange sort of fit, but there's a few good reasons. First, at a practical level, you're going into Archeology. That's going to take you all over the world, including a lot of places that are real hell-holes. Or at least, places that aren't on the normal tourist routes. I'd like you to be safe, so knowing how to handle yourself seems like a good idea.
"Second, if you decide to go further into this world of BDSM, you'll eventually run across some very unhappy, twisted souls. The only way some sickos can get off is by inflicting real pain on someone... non-consensual sort of stuff.
"Most of us are pretty conscientious about trying to police the clubs and the BDSM community to keep out the scum, but they're usually somewhere around, lurking around the dark edges.
"I feel a personal sense of responsibility. If I'm going to bring you into this world, I should make sure that you can protect yourself."
They had been walking back through the out-buildings, towards the exercise studio. Even though the day was warm, Melissa felt a chill as he spoke. He noticed and stopped walking, taking her hands in his. "Look, I don't mean to frighten you. Or at least, not too much. You should talk to Deborah or Serena about it. Mostly, it's just a matter of common sense precautions, but still, knowing how to take somebody down never hurts."
She nodded.
Then Erik looked away, almost a little bashful. After a moment, a small grin crept across his mouth, and he turned back, "I suppose I should come clean and tell you there's another reason. It's my own kink, I guess. I love the idea of owning a dangerous woman. I don't know... it's sort of like in spy movies when you see the evil mastermind, and he's got this beautiful female assassin who's totally devoted to him. That gives me a rush, knowing I'm the master of a powerful and dangerous woman."
Erik shook his head, clearly embarrassed to be revealing this motivation to her. Then he continued, "I don't know how much that feeds into the rest of it, because all the other reasons for you knowing how to protect yourself really are valid, but it didn't feel fair not to tell you why I, personally at least, get a kick out of it."
"Okayyy... I guess that works. Hey, I always loved James Bond movies. And I guess the bad girls were sort of... fun, especially the early ones. But, yecch, they always get killed off along the way."
"Well, we'll teach you how to kill, instead of be killed."
"That's a... pretty aggressive way to put it."
"Yeah, but where you're headed, out into the field on some dig in the ass-end of nowhere, there can be some seriously bad guys out there. Hopefully, there's lots of alternatives short of kill or be killed. But someday, that could be what it comes down to: kill or be killed. In that case, I'd much rather you knew how to... be aggressive."
"Okay, I guess I could buy that."
"Anyway, that's why I brought in Mike, rather than somebody else. He's a retired Special Forces guy. He's got loads of "been there, done that" credentials. After 22 years in the service, he got out so he could be a real husband and dad, instead of a Skype call every few weeks. He lives on a farm near here and teaches executive protection stuff on the side, which is how I met him."
"You needed executive protection?"
"A couple of years back, some mob-related union guys got pretty upset at me for busting up their cozy little arrangement with a company that I was trying to save. Mike taught me how to... well, mostly, how to be careful. What to watch for. How to take somebody down quickly. How to shoot. Helped me get a carry permit for a concealed weapon. He even shadowed me for awhile, when it got a little hairy."
"And?"
"And nothing. When you're prepared, the bad guys eventually figure it out. They're not stupid. They're not going to go after somebody if it might get them killed or put in jail. So after awhile, they went after easier prey, somewhere else."
"That's kind of... intense."
"Yeah, I didn't sleep too well for a couple of months there, but Mike helped me understand that I was high enough profile that they didn't really want to follow through with their threats, cause that would have attracted a lot of attention. So I just made it easier and more profitable for them to go somewhere else, and I was careful to do it in a way that didn't challenge their manhood or make them do something stupid. Anyway, Mike's a good guy. What he's going to teach you is how to read a situation. Then, when you have to act, if you ever have to act, he's going to teach you the short, sharp, nasty stuff. No fancy kung-fu 'praying mantis style' or whatever. Just how to take somebody down fast and hard.
"Later on, he'll teach you how to shoot a weapon."
"Okay..."
"Hey, your James Bond training gets even better. Next week, I'll take you up to a race track. There's a race driver up there who does private classes. We've got some track time, and you can learn how to play with your new toy."
"New toy?"
"Your Aston Martin."
"Yeah, I finally figured out that overpowered brute you had me drive today is an Aston Martin. Wait, what do you mean, 'mine'?"
"I don't know. It seemed to suit you, so I got it."
"What the fuck?"
"Hey, it's a couple of years old. The owner wanted the latest model and traded it in. I know the dealer, and it was available at a great price. Besides, I've always wanted one. It
is
very 'James Bond.' So getting you a car to drive was a great excuse."
"So it's yours, right? I'm just borrowing it for the summer."
