“Okay, so I’m, like, here and stuff,” said Erin.
I raised my head in response to hearing her voice. I knew she was on her way, I had summoned her, she had no choice to but come to me, but I hadn’t counted on her arriving so quickly. I turned around to face her and found her dressed exactly as I had wished it – hair back in a bun, horn-rimmed glasses, man’s white dress shirt with thin, vertical light blue stripes unbuttoned two buttons, snug (but not skin-tight) blue jeans and black boots. No socks. She stood motionlessly, arms draped at her side, grazing her hips, a look on her twenty-three year old face that wavered between boredom and annoyance. No lipstick. No makeup. Her natural good looks demanded no embellishment.
“I’d like to say again how fucked up this whole arrangement is, what a sick pathetic pervert I think you are and how I hope you choke while you’re doing this,” she recited in a rapid fire monotone.
“Quiet,” I admonished her.
“You’re the worst lover I’ve ever had, I hope you contract every disease known to man…” she whispered through tight lips and burning brown eyes.
“Make no sound,” I sighed through closed eyes. She was immediately quiet and unmoving. I had learned with earlier girls to leave a standing command of complete motionlessness; otherwise, you had to keep telling them not to run away. The way I had Erin configured, I only had to tell her what to do (as opposed to telling her what not to do). I arose from my chair and walked slowly over to her, examining her in the soft light from the hallway. She stood 5’ 7” and weighed maybe 120 pounds. Her skin was clear and smooth, the soft, light blonde hair grazing her forearms all but invisible. Her breasts were small but nicely shaped; her hips slender and her muscles tight. Her legs were skinnier than I would have wished but they were long and lovely. What little ass she had was tight, firm and round (albeit flat). Her tummy was a main attraction – nearly completely flat. For a twenty-three year old woman, Erin could pass for a teenager. Sometimes, in my fantasies, she did.
She regarded me through searing, narrow eyes as I came within scratching distance of her. How much she must have longed to mar my face with her claws. But her arms remained at her side. I leaned in closely and breathed on her neck. “My breath on your neck pleases you,” I murmured as my tongue extended and traced her skin. “So does my tongue.” Involuntarily, she shuddered as her body responded to the commands. The fire in her eyes softened somewhat. I just loved Erin. As she turned her head (to avoid eye contact and to expose more of her long, slender, beautiful neck to me) I caught the metallic gleam of the device implanted at the base of her skull. It was another reason I liked her hair back – I liked to see it, especially before things escalated.
I had no idea what the device was, who made it or how it operated. Neither did I understand why I had been given it. It was nearly imperceptible, no larger than the fingernail of your pinky with two small electrodes attached on either side of the back of the skull. They made no sound and they emitted no light. You didn’t even know they were working, save for the presence of this comely young woman who obeyed perfectly, although feisty. But it was that fight in her, that fierce, profane resistance that slowly melted into her all-consuming passion, drew me to her more than to anyone I had used the device on. After exploring the wiles of any number of women who crossed my path and tickled my fancy, I always seemed to come back to Erin.
My desire to play increased. “Erin,” I said softly and slowly, “I’d like your nipples to get hard, please.” I watched as the small points pressed slightly outward against the designer shirt. I unbuttoned the third button on the shirt, still not reaching the bra but exposing more of her chest to me. “Do you like how your nipples feel,” I continued. My query was met with silence. I had told her not to make a sound. “You may answer with one word answers.”
“Yes,” she answered tonelessly. This was another command of mine: always answer any direct question with “yes.” You have to be careful with commands like this. Making someone as feisty as Erin answer my leading questions with “yes” was such a glorious tease as I knew the passion rising within her slowly crumbled away her distaste at being commanded; of being compelled to perform for my pleasure.
“Show me your hard nipples,” I commanded. Erin took my hands and placed them on her breasts, poising my fingertips over her taunt flesh. However, through the bra and shirt, there was little to feel. I respected Erin for it – she had obeyed without giving me what I wanted. What I wanted was the visual. “Take your shirt off and leave it off,” I commanded. A slight scowl crossed her face. I had learned not to tell her to make any facial expressions. A commanded smile was forced and phony. Her nimble fingers worked the buttons rapidly (which surprised me some – I thought she would take her sweet time executing the order) and her pale skin was soon visible down to the waistline of her jeans.
She opened the shirt, shrugged her shoulders out of the fabric, pulling the shirt out of the jeans and dropped the shirt to the floor. Her bra was lavender colored and framed her modest bosom enticingly. I kneeled before her, wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her flat stomach to my waiting mouth. My tongue lapped circles around her belly button, flicking into and out of the sensitive skin quickly. Her arms shot behind her back, finding the clasp of the bra. “Slowly, baby, slowly,” I breathed into her tummy as my tongue moistened her flesh.
Her movements became more gradual, more tantalizing. One strap appeared from behind her back, dangling loosely. Then the other appeared. I knew there was nothing holding the bra to Erin’s body. She slid her right strap over her shoulder and the brassiere came loose on that side. I got my first hint of her firm, round breast appearing from the cup. This was always the most exciting moment of the undressing: it was more than you would ever see in any social situation yet before the impending nakedness that would expose her every last secret. I drank in the sight of her partially exposed breast. My own excitement accelerated. Erin continued to make no sound as her other hand drew the remaining restraining strap over her left shoulder.
