Enslaved - Love in the Future

Diamond Anniversary

Meena liked what she saw in the mirror.

She wore a special dress she bought just for tonight, and she was certain Nav would like it. Meena had learned a lot about fashion in the last year, and she'd chosen a designer with a well-earned reputation for her skill blending edgy and sexy elements. This dress was extremely revealing. The designer explained the dress by pointing out that in art, there's a thin line dividing the erotic from the pornographic. This gown was an attempt to come as close to that line as possible without crossing it.

Meena remembered the first time Nav had taken her to a restaurant, and the way she'd felt naked in that gown. A lot had changed. Meena knew her outfit was fashionable and wouldn't cause a scene. She knew she'd attract plenty of looks in this dress, and that was just fine. Nav would love it. And she had become fond of being seen as an object of erotic desire. There was something about being provocative in front of strangers that provided a thrill that pleased her as much as Nav.

She hadn't seen him all day. He'd insisted that they have no contact until it was time to leave. He'd ordered her not to touch herself or use the love machine. Avoiding sex all day would make it more wonderful when they finally made love. As she waited for Nav to pick her up, Meena had an itch that needed scratching.

Nav felt the same. This would be a big night full of carefully prepared surprises. It was Meena's 19th birthday as well as the first anniversary of her enslavement, and Nav wanted the evening to be something she would never forget. Normally, a first anniversary is celebrated with a gift made from paper. Perhaps a drawing, photograph, or piece of origami. Nav did not plan to conform to this tradition. He was thinking of something very different. A Diamond Anniversary.

When he came to get her he arrived in a suit selected for him by a personal shopper with exquisite taste. He looked handsome.

"You look incredible," he said.

"So do you, Master."

They held hands and smiled at each other during the drive. They wanted to tear each other's clothes off and make love in the car, but they kept their appetites in check. Nav reached over and caressed Meena's neck in a way that made her feel like a kitten getting a belly rub.

When they finally arrived, they were both gratified by the way Meena turned heads when she walked into the club. The hostess expected them. "Good evening sir," she said to Nav. "We're ready for you." Meena followed as the hostess led them to their table, walking in a regal, sexy way that Nav loved watching as he followed. It was hard to believe she'd ever felt too self-conscious to wear clothes featuring butt cleavage and fabric that clung to her nipples. This dress had a back that plunged so low it exposed more of the top of Meena's cheeks than she'd ever shown in public before.

The front was just as sexy, with a dramatic neckline and wet-look fabric. Meena glided into her chair like a queen on her throne. Nav just stared for a long, long time.

"You get more beautiful every day," he said.

"You say the nicest things," Meena replied. She'd used that phrase many times over the last year. It was part of their love language.

Nav ordered everything days earlier, so their waiter began bringing drinks and appetizers without being told. Nav selected tiny portions of many foods, letting Meena enjoy just a few bites of each selection. She'd skipped lunch in preparation, so the wine gave her an especially warm, happy sensation.

Nav drew her into conversation about herself. It ran counter to her training on the plantation, where she was taught how to get people to talk about them. It was Nav's way of telling her how important she was to him, and she appreciated the gesture.

She also appreciated the entertainment Nav selected. The band was a well-known jazz ensemble Meena knew well.

Swingtime

was a group of excellent jazz players, led by an extraordinary pianist named Charlie Frederik. She'd spent a lot of time listening to Frederik's recordings, figuring out how to master his technique.

The waiter placed a gift-wrapped box in front of Meena. "What is it?"

Nav smiled. "Open it and find out."

It was a necklace, but not any ordinary necklace. It was magnificent, with large sparkling diamonds mounted in settings of heavy gold. The overall design was a match for her bracelet and earrings. Meena realized this was something else Grandma Olivia wore when she was a fighter in the Diamond War.

"My grandfather told the designer to do whatever was necessary to make the finest piece of jewelry since King Tut. He wanted lots of diamonds. Big ones. He wanted people to gasp when my grandmother arrived at an event wearing this around her neck."

"It's fabulous. Exquisite," Meena said.

"It's yours," he replied.

Nav put it around her neck, latched the clasp, and stood back to take a good, long look. "You look stunning," he said.

She felt stunning. The necklace was so laden with diamonds and gold it felt hefty on her shoulders. Nav took out his tablet and showed Meena a photograph of his grandmother wearing the necklace on a red carpet somewhere.

"She's beautiful," Meena said.

"That's what everyone thought. Especially my grandfather," Nav said.

A photographer arrived at the table. Nav arranged for a professional photograph showing the two of them celebrating their first anniversary, with Meena wearing her gift. The photographer sent a copy to Nav's tablet so they could see the memento that would always help them remember this special night.

"If you were trying to surprise me, you succeeded," Meena said. "You overwhelm me."

Nav squeezed her hand.

Just wait,

he thought.

The surprises aren't over.

"There's something I need to tell you," Nav said.

"I've been thinking about us a lot in the last few weeks. I'm pretty sure I've made my feelings clear. You have to know how much you mean to me.

"What I want to say is that I love you. I've wanted to say it for a long time, but I wanted to be absolutely sure. I've never loved anyone more than I love you."

Meena felt faint. She'd waited months to hear those words. Months. Her Master was such a believer in delayed gratification that he sometimes drove her crazy - especially in bed.

"I love you too," she said. She'd been trained not to use the word love without permission from her Master. It was up to him to decide if that was the right word. Enslavement is a relationship deeper than mere love, but love was the word Meena wanted to hear.

Nav knew exactly how he wanted to say these words for the first time. He didn't want to say it after they made love because Meena might think he meant that he loved having sex with her. That's not love. Telling her like this, in a restaurant, on their first anniversary, was the best way to make it memorable, and to prove he meant it sincerely.

She took his hand. They sat there, saying nothing. They'd said enough for one evening. Meena ran her hand over the necklace and thought she was the luckiest woman alive. She had everything she could want, and more.

The band walked to the stage and began to play. "I'm told this group is very popular. Do you know them?" Nav said.

"Oh, they're wonderful," Meena said. "I've listened to all their recordings. The man on the piano is a genius. There's no band I'd rather hear."

Nav wasn't as sophisticated about jazz as Meena, but he'd done some research, and people who knew all about jazz had recommended

Swingtime

and its leader, Charlie Frederik. There weren't many groups that played jazz, which was a largely forgotten musical genre, but Frederik somehow brought together an outstanding group of musicians who knew how to swing.

What happened next was a bigger surprise than the necklace.

When the band finished its set, Frederik walked directly to their table. "Hello again, Nav," he said. "You must be Meena," he said, holding out his hand. "Nav didn't tell me how beautiful you are."

"What did he tell you?" she asked after he kissed her hand.

Frederik was an old show man who knew how to project an image of friendly sincerity. In this case, it was completely genuine.

"Nav said you are a student of jazz," Frederik said. "He sent me some of your recordings and asked me to tell him if I thought you're any good."

He chose that moment to pick up a glass of water and take a long, slow drink. Meena was frozen in suspense. "And?" she finally asked.

Frederik stopped smiling. "You are very, very good," he said. "If I had an opening for a keyboard player, I would offer you the job right now. I'm tempted to offer you a job as a vocalist.

Swingtime

doesn't perform vocal music; your voice makes me think it might be time to change that."

Meena was thrilled. Her musical idol was praising her. She could barely believe it. Nav had arranged all this as another surprise, as if the necklace wasn't enough. "You are very kind," Meena said.

"You're probably the only person in the world who thinks that," Frederik said. "If you ask the boys and girls in my band, I doubt any of them would describe me as kind." He leaned toward Meena and looked her directly in the eye. "I'd like to produce your first album. You have the potential to be a successful performer under your own name."

This was happening too fast.

"Take your time. Think about it," Frederik said. "I think you have the talent to produce wonderful recordings of all kinds of jazz. But the reality of the music industry is that talent isn't enough. You need to select music the public doesn't realize it wants to hear. You need to find the right musicians to collaborate with you. And on and on and on. Although I'm sure you are brilliant as a musician, I doubt very much if you could do all these other things alone. Well, you aren't alone. You have me. If you want me."

Meena was stunned into silence. When it looked like she was ready to say something, Frederik raised his hands and said "Don't say anything. Take some time. Talk about it with your man; he's your biggest fan. We should sit down and discuss this in detail in a few days so you can make an informed decision."

She thought Frederik was about to leave the table, but there was another surprise coming. "I would like an answer to another question," he said. "Would you come up on stage and sing with us?" He said he'd picked out three of her songs and rehearsed them with his band. Their arrangements were in the same keys, the same beats, and he was sure Meena could perform them. Right then. Right there.

"A musician needs to be heard, Meena," he said. "Let's have this audience find out a little about who you are."

Again, Meena was too stunned to speak. Frederik was so charmed he started to chuckle.

"I don't know what to say," Meena finally replied.

"Say yes. Just say yes." Frederik stood up, reached for her hand, and said, "Let's go have some fun."

Meena's legs felt rubbery as she walked to the stage. Her training was the only thing that made it possible for her to go gracefully to the microphone. Frederik told her the songs he'd selected were

"Summertime"

as sung by Sarah Vaughn, Billie Holiday's hit

"Blue Moon,"

and ending with

"Someone to Watch Over Me"

in the style of Ella Fitzgerald.

"Just do them the way you recorded them at home," Frederik said. "Don't overthink it. You'll be fine."

Frederik sat down at his piano, leaned toward his microphone, and addressed the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you to someone I am getting to know. She's never performed in public before, but I predict you'll be hearing a lot more from her. Folks, I present the lovely Meena."

He started playing the intro to

"Summertime."

One by one, the other musicians joined in. Then it came time for Meena to sing.

The sight of the audience frightened her, so she closed her eyes and began. The first few notes were a bit shaky, but then the music took over. It became just like singing alone in her studio at home.

Technically,

"Blue Moon ''

was the most interesting song. Meena had mastered Holiday's unconventional way of shifting the melody in unexpected ways. But Holiday did that largely because she had such a weak voice, and couldn't hit all the notes if she tried to sing the regular melodies. Meena's powerful four-octave range was nothing like Holiday's, and she'd come up with a rendition that Holiday might have done if she'd had a better voice.

The song most familiar to Meena was

"Someone To Watch Over Me."

Nav remembered how Meena played it for him when he interviewed her before the slave auction. That song was largely responsible for his decision to buy Meena, regardless of the cost. A year had passed since then, and Nav had never questioned that choice.

When she finished, and the band played the last note, Meena opened her eyes and looked at the crowd. They seemed to be frozen in place. She thought they must not like her. Then someone started to clap, everyone joined it, and the crowd produced a wave of ecstatic noise that hit Meena like a blast of wind. It went on, and on, and didn't stop until Frederik said, "Folks, this won't be the last time you hear Meena."

He walked to the microphone, took her hand, and moved to walk her back to Nav's table.

"Would you do me a favor?" she said.

"Anything, dear. What?"

Nav saw Meena speaking into Frederik's ear. He nodded agreement, and led her to the piano. Meena sat on the bench while Frederik picked up a trumpet and stood behind her.

"I wrote this song for the man I love," she said. "He's never heard it. I was going to play it for him later, but I think I'd rather let him hear me tell all you nice people how I feel about him." She looked at the members of the band. They were a bit puzzled. They hadn't rehearsed. But they were good jazz musicians who knew how to improvise a song the first time they heard it. "It's in b-flat," Meena said.

She played through the first line of the melody so they could hear the chord changes. The drummer came in first, followed by the upright bass, then the rhythm guitar, followed by Frederik on the trumpet. Nav had planned a lot of surprises for Meena, including one she still didn't know about. It was Nav's turn to be surprised.

When the melody came around again, Meena took a deep breath and sang.

You say the nicest things

It happens every time you talk to me.

You do the nicest things

When you're close you really get to me

From the early early morning to the late late night

You know the ways that make me feel just right

You speak in magic words you know I'll like

You say the nicest things

Hearing her sing the words she'd spoken so many times moved Nav. The song was beautiful. He'd never felt this way before. When he bought Meena, he did it hoping that she could help him reclaim the excitement and passion he'd lost long ago. He hadn't known she'd do it so well. Nav had waited months to tell Meena he loved her. He was glad he hadn't waited one minute longer. In his long life, and his many love affairs, no one had declared their love for him in a more heartfelt and touching way. He felt young.

The audience applauded enthusiastically when the song was over. Frederik went to the microphone and said, "There's a very lucky guy in the crowd tonight," he said. Turning toward Meena, he said, "You are just full of surprises, aren't you? I hope to see a lot more of you soon."

He led Meena off the stage, and she walked gracefully back to Nav's table. She worked to keep her expression serene. Her first public performance was a surprise and a success. She'd done nothing to prepare, hadn't even known it was going to happen, but she'd sung and played beautifully. It felt completely natural. She sensed that the audience liked the music - and liked her. Meena was glad she'd worn the sexy dress she'd chosen, and that Nav gave her the necklace just in time to wear on stage. It was the kind of showy, glamorous outfit that a star would wear. Meena liked the feeling so much she hoped she'd do it again. Soon.

Nav took her hand. "You are such a wonder," he said. "I can never say enough to tell you how proud I am to own you, Meena."

She wanted to say, "Thank you, Master," but she was not allowed to say that word in public. She sat quietly for a time, then she mouthed the words. He got the message.

"I'd like to go home now," she said.

Meena wanted to make love. She was breathing unevenly, and she had that familiar look in her big, round eyes. There was a fancy dessert prepared for them, to be served with an especially good blend of coffee, but Nav decided they would skip it. The only treat he wanted was sitting beside him.

During the drive, Nav ran his fingers over Meena's neck and shoulders, lightly tracing the curves of her body. It literally made her close her eyes and purr. They were so aroused they walked quickly to the bedroom the second they got home. As always, Meena slipped off her shoes, turned toward Nav, and waited.

"I haven't felt this way since the night you took my virginity," she said.

"Neither have I," Nav said, thinking Meena had no way of knowing how apt her words would be when she got her final surprise. As always, he slipped the straps off her shoulder and let the dress fall to the floor. "Don't take off the jewelry," he whispered. "I want to see you wearing nothing but the jewelry." As always, she turned slowly so he could gaze upon her every curve and cleft, then he led her to sit on the edge of the bed. She pulled off his shirt, undid his pants, and pulled his boxers down. His half-hard cock sprang loose. Looking at it made her mouth water. She'd come to love his taste as she'd mastered the skills of cocksucking, and she wanted nothing more than to give him a proper blowjob. He let her swirl her tongue around the head of his cock, and suck the head into her mouth, but he wanted something else from her. Something he'd never gotten before.

Although she looked beautiful sucking his cock while wearing her diamonds, Nav gently pulled away and laid Meena back on the bed. By this time she was getting frantic with need. Her breasts were swollen, her nipples were hard, and Nav detected her musky fragrance. Nav wanted to taste her pussy so much that it pained him to follow the plan he'd rehearsed so many times in his mind. He kissed her, and kissed her, and kept kissing her until she was gasping for breath. Nav worked his way down to her breasts, nibbled and licked her nipples, and ran his hand down her hard, flat belly. He was driving her crazy as he worked on her breasts, but he stopped before she came.

He kissed his way down her body, gently spread her legs, then began kissing and biting the soft skin of her inner thighs. Nav wanted to taste her. But he just kissed closer and closer to her pussy, stopping before he got there. She moaned in frustration. What was Nav doing? He had to know how much she wanted him. He had to know how much she needed relief. But he kept bringing her to the edge, endlessly teasing, then stopping. It was deliciously maddening.

Nav rolled Meena on her side, pulling her into a spoon position. They'd been making love that way recently, and Meena liked it. Nav's cock felt different when he entered her pussy from behind. It rubbed against her insides in a different way. Meena was particularly pleased that the position allowed Nav to touch her everywhere, from her breasts to her clit and everything in between. He took it slow - he always took things slow - as he pressed a little deeper with every stroke.

"I love your beautiful ass," he said, caressing her. "You have a gorgeous ass." Meena smiled. He'd been paying a lot of attention to her bottom recently.