The story of how two became three.
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Other Mistress and Charlotte stories for your enjoyment
Girl Friday
Kitten With Benefits
Maid's Day Off
A Beautiful Night
Charlotte's Opening Day
Best Laid Plans
Charlotte's Secret Recipe
Charlotte's Jazzy Halloween
Tina's Plea Bargain
The Third Wheel
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Author's Note
I've been feeling a surge of creativity lately with Natasha and Charlotte's adventures. I owe a lot of that to Juliet, a new character who made her appearance in The Third Wheel. She and Charlotte hit it off really well and have a number of common interests, including their love of music and the thrill they get from the games they like to play with Natasha.
And lucky Juliet, she gets to be an integral part of this story as well.
Enjoy,
Wax Philosophic
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The events and characters in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The main characters in this story are in a dominant-submissive relationship. It is safe, sane, and consensual as well as kind and loving. But if this type of relationship is not your thing, you may want to skip this story and find something else to read. I have plenty of nice romances that I have written as well. Check out my profile page for a list of what's what.
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"If you love somebody, set them free." -- Sting
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Prologue
Dear Friends,
I'm hoping you have all had a chance to read the story of how Charlotte and I first met. It's on this site under the title of Girl Friday (It's more than just a job) in case you haven't. It's a sweet little love story that explains a lot about how our relationship started.
A few years ago the two of us took a much needed vacation to sunny Mexico, where we met a lovely woman named Juliet. If you haven't met Juliet, you need to read The Third Wheel (Mistress and Charlotte Find a Friend) to get caught up.
After vacation, we had purposely avoided maintaining any sort of contact with Juliet, content to hold her in our happy memories. But as fate would have it, our paths have crossed again a few times. This is one of those times.
Love and hugs,
Mistress Natasha
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Introduction
Charlotte
"That ain't no necklace, lady," he said. "You can't fool me, I got the internet. That's a bondage collar."
I was actually kind of surprised that he figured it out, the little punk. It's very tasteful, not heavy black leather or anything like that -- though I do have one of those in the closet at home -- and most people just assume it's an artsy piece of jewelry. But not this little creep.
"No," I said flatly, "it isn't." But he just kept going, flapping his mouth, asking me who my master was, and what he liked to do with me when I was naughty. I crouched down to his level, looking first over one shoulder then the other, before speaking.
I put my hand aside my mouth and glanced sideways. "Listen kid," I whispered, "you're right. I owe a lot of money to some very scary people. This necklace, or collar as you call it, can only be removed by one person. Her name is Natasha, and she's an enforcer for the Russian mob."
He started looking a little pale.
I ran my fingers over the links of my collar. "Beneath this metal are tiny thermite charges. If I ever try to cut it off, or even if I'm late on a payment ..." I got real close and looked him right in the eye. "Ka-bloowey!" I shouted.
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The Girl From Ipanema
Natasha
"You told him what?" I burst out laughing as Charlotte finished up her story.
"That you were an enforcer for the Russian mob, Mistress," she said. We were sitting in the lounge of our favorite Italian restaurant, catching up on the events of the day when she told me. Charlotte was perched at the piano bench, her usual spot for a Friday evening, looking very elegant in her little black dress and heels.
I had just joined her, seated on a bar stool nearby, enjoying a Chardonnay and the fact that Charlotte was not wearing any underwear to speak of. The light was dim enough in the bar that very few people besides myself were probably aware of the slight protrusion of her nipples beneath the thin fabric. I smiled at the thought of it.
Such a sexy little thing.
"I think he might have peed his pants a little," she continued.
I leaned back, still chuckling, picturing my petite Charlotte scaring the daylights out of some nosy little piano student. "I wish I could have seen it."
"Probably best if you don't come around for a while, Mistress. He might have gotten the idea that you would murder his family and bury them in a shallow grave if he asked too many questions."
I smiled and shook my head.
Charlotte was playing Satin Doll -- one of my favorite jazz standards -- and kept right on playing throughout the entire retelling of her tale, never missing a note. I let my mind drift for a moment, and listened to the music. I gently reached out and touched a finger to her neck.
"Are you still glad we did it, baby?" I asked.
"The collar? Oh yes, Mistress. It means a lot to me." Charlotte had segued into a few bars of I Only Have Eyes For You, before coming around again to pick up her original melody. I think that was for my benefit.
"Me too," I said. "But -- well -- it just seems like something's been bothering you lately."
Charlotte smiled up at me and transitioned into I've Got You Under My Skin. How does she do that?
I snickered, then looked her in the eye. "I'm serious, baby. If you're not happy about something, I want you to tell me. Is it because I've been working so much lately?" We were in the middle of a big project at work that had been putting a lot of demands on my time for the past several weeks. And worse than that, it required me to travel for days at a time.
Charlotte kept on playing, but turned to face toward me. "No, not that. I mean, I do get lonely when you're away, but ... I don't know, Mistress. I guess I just feel a little unsettled -- I mean, don't get me wrong, I love what we have together -- I just thought there would be more to my life than piano lessons for spoiled little brats."
Charlotte's thoughts appeared to drift as her hands continued effortlessly massaging the keys. "Do you think I'm too young for a mid-life crisis, Mistress?"
I almost burst out laughing, until I realized she was being serious. Twenty-eight did seem a little young to me for a mid-life crisis. "I don't know, baby. I think I was forty when I had mine." I watched Charlotte's graceful fingers flying over the ivory as I thought back to that time in my life.
Back then, I had no stomach for commitment, and no patience for the dating scene. I tended toward the easy prey of hiring cute, young secretaries and trying to seduce them. And for the most part I was very successful in my efforts. It's amazing what a few elegant dinners and weekend getaways can do for a girl's openness, at least in the short term.
Though in the end, most of them wound up being just a distraction for me, an entertaining way to pass the time. After a while I would encourage them to move on as I continued looking for the perfect woman -- a woman who was secure in herself, but not afraid to let me take charge and take care of her. At forty, I had begun to think that such a woman didn't exist.
"What did you do about it, Mistress?" she asked.
"Well," I started. "I called up this agency I'd heard about. I had seen their ad in the newspaper, but I never had the guts to phone until a friend of mine let it slip that she had done it, and was very happy with the service she got. She said her personal assistant was, how shall I put it, very committed and
very
personal."