Jerri pulled--well, tucked the leather bustier in that she'd purchased today at the Dungeonopolis Gift Shop. It had been expensive, but she really wanted Specs to be impressed.
Jerri touched her purse, her fingers going inside to make sure the money was there. Alimony was an outrage, her friends and her parents had told Jerri; even more outraged would they be if they knew it was voluntary.
Jerri's lawyers at the time, the best from Reinhold and Bertrand, had told her they thought Specs could be made to pay for the credit card debt he'd driven up, and she didn't have the nerve to tell them she still let him have a Platinum, even now...
But they didn't know Specs...
Jerri hesitated, inspected her new manicure, and then knocked on the door. She waited, and then knocked again. Specs always kept her waiting.
Jerri had been a model in her twenties, as well as a semiprofessional ballerina just previous to getting her M.B.A.
Everyone had been stunned when she'd wed this unemployed, four eyed geek.
It had caused so much stir in New York, that she'd moved them to Buttermilk Falls, one of the quietest towns in the most slumbering state in the Union.
And, when Specs had left Jerri, she'd just been grateful he'd wanted to settle here--and after all, this had originally been her house. She knocked again, biting her full lip.
Had he forgotten? Jesus, it was twenty-seven hundred dollars a month. You'd think--
The door opened and Specs looked up at Jerri. He was a head shorter than she was, especially when she wore heels, but she was in sneakers tonight.
"Jerri! How's it going?" Specs gave Jerri a hug, and she clutched him. It had been thirty days. He let her call once a week, and it was a Skype thing, but it just wasn't enough.
To say nothing of the embarrassment of masturbating with the sharp end of a No. 2 Ticonderoga pencil (so hard to find) while Specs, on the screen, mandated how fast she should poke herself--
And when she went slow when he said fast, or vice versa, he'd order her to twist the mouse-traps on her nipples!
As she came in, Specs patted the top of his head. "You like my new rug?"
"Oh, Specs, you are a gorgeous man. You don't need a toupee." All men were so silly about hairpieces, though. If one strand was lacking...
A lot of the guys that Jerri dated now had full, flowing hair, and were muscular and worshipful, though usually ten to fifteen years younger than she.
It was nice being paid for, taken out and spoiled. She'd never really gotten that from her peculiar ex-husband, who resembled Mister Peterson on "The Bob Newhart Show" which she and her friends used to swig a beer to every time someone said "Hi Bob!"
That was one hell of a drinking game. Most of Jerri's old friends had lost touch with her after one or two um, disciplinary sessions were witnessed. Still, Specs was worth any number of them.
"Who is it, Specs?" a voice came from the dining room.
"There's someone here?" half whispered Jerri. "On our day?"
Specs grinned sunnily. "Aren't you supposed to be disrobing now, Jerrilyn?"
He didn't even notice the bustier, Jerri thought dazedly. Who the hell was here? You don't have company when I come, you little asshole!
But Jerri recalled her first months dating Specs. Back when he'd treated her like a human being. Sure, they had had sessions, and he was her Master, but not in the way it had finally become!
At that time, Specs had been supported by a quiet artist type, Willow. He'd lived in Willow's house, but Jerri didn't see Willow much, because she wasn't really allowed to leave her bedroom, except to go her studio, in the attic, or to, of course the bathroom.
Jerri remembered cruelly snickering, when Specs had made poor Willow dance around as he shot rubber bands at her naked breasts and thighs. Willow had begged to service Specs, but he'd made her lick Jerri's twat first.
"Check and make sure Willow did the kitchen spotlessly, Jerri, and if she hasn't, take her over your knee and use this saucepan on her ass."
Jerri had been a little frightened, as Willow was a fourth degree black belt and much taller, but Willow had submitted to all punishments inflicted by the smaller woman.
Finally, Willow had received a job offer to teach in Ojai, California, and then Specs had moved in with Jerri, but this should have been a warning, a learning experience.
For a brief period, another woman, Piper had invited Jerri and Specs to dinner once a week, and had served them a gourmet meal, as she was a TV chef there in New York.
Piper had knelt naked in the corner as the couple had enjoyed the roast duck or whatever was being served (Jerri had been partial to Piper's Lobster Thermidor) leaving only to refill wine glasses and fetching dessert.
Then, after dinner, Specs and Jerri fed their leftovers to Piper who tried elegantly to eat them off the floor, being required to lick the floor absolutely clean.
There had been cigarette butts discarded on the floor for dessert, as Specs was a heavy smoker...
