Controlled by His Voice Box Set (Erotic Romance) Page 2
"Oh, fuck it Dan, just tell me what to do."
"I can't tell you what to do. Only you can do that."
I took another sip of my coffee and watched the earthy-crunchy urban culture of Davis Square as it drifted by the window. A girl with a backpack in a long red winter coat and white wool hat with a pom-pom. An old Indian man in a blue turban and dark overcoat. A striking tall black kid in a shiny designer ski jacket over a bright green sweater.
"I don't know," I said. "Sometimes I just wish someone, once in my life would say, 'Meghan, do this. I command you.'"
I felt a little spark. My fingers twitched.
"I'm going to say yes," I said. "Of course I am. What else would I do? This is what I've always wanted. The whole package. And Jake is the whole package."
Dan just stared at me, eyes wide open and arms crossed.
“So how’s it going with the new girl?" I said. "What's her name again?”
"Unbelievable," he said. "Nikki. We've only been on two dates, but I think she's the one."
"You say that every single time."
"Yeah, but this time I think I really mean it. She's got something... special."
"Do you have a picture of her?"
"Yes."
He scrolled through his pics and turned his cell phone screen toward me. The most amazing green-eyed half-Latina/half-Asian girl looked back at me.
“Fuck, Dan! She's gorgeous. She looks a little like Rihanna."
“I know!”
“Such amazing eyes. Hypnotizing. Have you... you know?”
“Close, but no. She got kind of freaked out when I started putting the moves on her. But she's coming over for dinner tonight. I'm going to make that Thai dish that you loved so much."
“She'll fuck you after that for sure.”
Dan grinned. I looked at my watch.
"Shit, I've got to get to class," I said. I put the lid on my coffee cup. "You have to text me once you've done the deed. Four-star rating system."
"Yes, and you have to think about what you really want before you say yes."
I nodded.
The route to my class from the coffee shop took me past the vestibule with the bulletin board. Don't look at it today, I told myself. Just keep your head down.
As I walked, a pang of something annoying hit me. At first, I couldn't figure out what it was. Then, I recognized it. I'm actually jealous of Dan.
He's always been looking for a regular girlfriend. Most guys want to sleep with a thousand girls, but all Dan has ever wanted is a normal average relationship.
So what am I jealous of? Isn't that what I've always wanted too?
I glanced to my right and there it was. Fuck, I promised myself I wouldn't look!
Today, nearly half of the tear-offs were gone. I walked up to it and counted. Six! Six women are calling this anonymous ad for submission training. Six!
While I tried to convince myself that I was horrified at the large turnout, in reality I was afraid that he... whoever he is... may have found his perfect student. And if he did, then I lost my chance. I couldn't let that happen.
Chance for what? Meghan, what the fuck are you thinking?
With my left hand on the purple box in my left jacket pocket, my right hand involuntarily ripped off the seventh phone number to go missing from the advertisement and put it in my right jacket pocket.
I took a deep breath and walked to class.
Chapter 4
My puffy white winter jacket felt heavy as I drove to the rehabilitation center to visit my dad. In one pocket a wedding ring was burning a hole. In the other a very different kind of hole was burning.
My dad had been in a car accident six weeks ago, breaking his leg in three places. The only reason he didn't get nabbed for DUI is because the guy who hit him was even more intoxicated.
He should have been back home already but he had a couple of bad infections and his physical therapy was... well, let's just say my dad isn't the most cooperative man on earth. He's milking his short-term disability insurance just so he can avoid going back to work and get waited on hand and foot for as long as he can.
Not to mention he hasn't quit smoking. He'll put almost zero effort into his exercises but he's hell-bent to get past the nurses to the side door so he can light up.
Just ahead of the rehab center is a Walmart. I clasped the steering wheel tight and held my breath, forcing my eyes to stay directly ahead until it passed. Then I breathed again.
I parked and went up to my dad's room. His face brightened up when he saw me.
"Punchy!" he said when I walked into the room. "There's my little punching bag. Come here." He raised his fists and went into his routine. “Keep your head down, fake to the left. Duck. Boom. Boom. Left, right, left, right.”
It always ended in a hug.
When I was little he would come home from work, lift me up and put me on the table by the front door and pretend I was his little punching bag. He never actually hit me, of course. It was all play.
Then mom would come in all freaking out about me being on her perfectly polished table with lace doilies. She would yell at the two of us for a while, lambasting him for supposedly teaching me 'unclean things' and then we'd hear a few Bible quotes.
My mom loved us, but she was a strict Jehovah's Witness. Everything we did, every word we said, and every mistake we made was fed back to us with a Bible quote about how we were risking our chances of not getting into the Kingdom of Jehovah.
After she died when I was thirteen, my dad and I seemed to have little to talk about. We both loved her and we both mourned for a long time, but it was like she supplied all our conversation for so long that we never knew what to say to each other.
When I started dating boys, he didn't know how to handle it so he just shut down. He just left me alone to figure things out on my own.
Sometimes I would even push his limits by staying out all night. He would give me a small lecture in the morning and then never mentioned it again, kind of like he knew he had to but didn't want to.
Then I would bring home an obvious thug just to push his buttons, but all he would do is shake the boy's hand, say "Have a good time", and disappear into the living room with another beer.
I always wanted to grab him by the lapels of his nicotine-saturated truck driver's uniform, shake him, and say, "Snap out of it! She's gone! Be a father! Tell me what to do!"
Now he looked so helpless and forlorn lying there in hospital clothes.
He immediately started airing his gripes about everything to me. The TV keeps cutting out when a hockey team is about to score. The food tastes like plastic. The bastards in Washington are raising our taxes again.
I just nodded and listened, not really hearing what he was saying. My right hand found the piece of paper in my pocket and rubbed it.
When my dad hit a lull, I reached in my other pocket and took out the purple box.
"Dad," I said, "Jake gave me something."
"It's okay," he said. "Herpes can be controlled now."
Now you know where I get my sarcastic sense of humor.
"Very funny. No, seriously. Check this out."
I opened the box and held it up. Even in the fluorescent hospital lights, it lit up with dancing rainbow colors.
"Holy shit! That could pay off the mortgage on the house."
"So what do you think?"
"It's very nice."
"No, I mean... what do you think I should do?"
"He wants to get married?"
"No, he bought me the biggest rock in the world because he wants me to go to the Prom with him."
My dad just looked at me with a blank expression.
"Okay," he said.
"Okay what? Okay you think I should marry him?"
"If you want to."
"Dad! Just tell me what you think I should do."
His eyes narrowed, then he just turned back to the television hanging from the wall.
"You love him, right?" he said.
"Of course I do," I said.
"So there you go."
I looked at the ring, then snapped the box shut and put it in my pocket.
"Yeah, there I go."
We chatted about nothing in particular for a while, not mentioning the marriage proposal again. This is how it always goes with my dad. Avoid all serious discussion at all times.
When visiting hours ended, we said our goodbyes and I went back to my car in the parking garage. As I fumbled for my ticket, I noticed a drop of something fall on my hand.
I put my hand to my face and felt a tear falling down my cheek. I wiped my eye with the back of my hand, put the car in gear, and paid my $5 at the gate.
I pulled out onto the road and headed back toward Somerville. On the left was Walmart again. Shit.
My left blinker magically went on and my car pulled into the parking lot, seemingly all by itself.
I knew what I was doing and I couldn't believe I was doing it.
"Welcome to Walmart," the greeter said as I walked in. "We're closing in ten minutes."
"Thanks," I said as I marched toward the electronics department. My heart started to beat faster. What is that? Fear? Excitement? A combination of both?
I found the cheapest prepaid cell phone I could find with the least amount of minutes required. As I carried it through the store, I became acutely aware of the tightness of my jeans as they rubbed my panties.
By the time I put the phone on the conveyor belt at the cash register, my face was flushed and my pussy was wet. The woman who rang me up gave me the old you're-up-to-something naughty look.
Shit, could she tell?
Chapter 5
"Your phone is now activated and ready to use," said the recorded female voice. I hit End and put it back on the countertop.
Fully charged. Good signal with four bars. Ready for action.
I took another sip of Pinot Grigio. I had already finished a glass, which was my usual limit, but tonight I dove into a second to help me accomplish my sordid task.
I went to the hall closet and retrieved the tear-off strip. I didn't really need it. I had the number memorized by now.
I picked up the phone and dialed the area code. Nope, not ready yet. I hit End, put the phone down, and had another sip of wine.
Shit, Meghan, just get this the fuck over with!
I picked it up again, dialed the entire number, and hovered my thumb over the Send button.
I almost leaped through the ceiling when a loud ring permeated the silence of my apartment.
Shit, it's my iPhone.
I scrambled to find it, only to see the caller's name: Jake. Shit fuck shit. Not right now!
"Hello," I said as I cleared my throat.
"Hey," said Jake. "Are you all right?"
"Of course. Why?"
"I don't know. You sound funny."
"I think I might be coming down with something."
"I thought you were feeling better."
"So did I. I don't know."
Long pause. Too long.
"Meghan," said Jake, "is there something else?"
"Something else?" I said.
"Yeah. Ever since the other night, I've gotten a sense that there's something off."
"Something off?"
I took another sip of wine.
"Yes. I know you had a bad reaction to the mussels, but we haven't actually said anything about what I asked you."
"Jake, please. I can't do this now. I'm not feeling well."
"Well, when are we going to be able to talk?"
"I don't know."
Another long uncomfortable pause.
"Meghan, don't get angry but I have to ask you something. Is there someone else?"
I felt a flash of heat move through me. I looked at the prepaid phone just sitting there.
"Jake, no," I said in a tone that I knew was a little too harsh. "There is nobody else in my life right now besides you and I can't believe you would ask that question."
"Sorry, sorry. I just..."
"You just nothing! You know me. You know I don't cheat. I have principles."
Shit, I think I said prinshiples.
"Have you been drinking?"
"Jake, I can't talk to you about this right now. I need... some space."
"Oh." His voice was now infused with irritation. "The old 'I need some space' excuse. I get it."
"It's not a fucking excuse, Jake! Look, the truth is I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me. I'm having a bad few days and I'm really stressed out."
"Oh, so it's a bad day when your boyfriend who loves you asks you to marry him, huh?"
"Jake, this is a big step. Don't get so fucking defensive!"
"You know, Meghan, sometimes I wonder about you. Maybe we should think about things for a while."
"Yeah, that sounds like a great idea!" Shit, I was yelling now. I didn't mean to be yelling.
"Fine! I've got to go."
"Fine! Me too!"
I hit the End icon and threw the phone across the room. Shit, that's my iPhone! I ran to the other end of the kitchen, picked it up, and checked it. It seemed okay.
I plopped myself back down on the couch.
"Fuck you, Jake!" I said out loud to the empty room. "And you know what, Jake? I'm going to call this number right now. How the fuck do you like that, asshole?"
I picked up the prepaid phone and looked at the screen. It took a second to register but the Call In Progress icon was lit. What the fuck?
I put the phone to my ear and said hello.
"You called," said a deep man's voice.
My heart rocketed into my throat as I realized what I had done. I must have accidentally hit Send when I practice-dialed before. Holy fuck! Did he hear my entire conversation with Jake? He must have!
"Uh..." I said. "Yes. I called."
"Why did you call?" said the voice. It was slow and patient, somewhat detached, and sexy as hell.
"Um... uh... I saw your... uh... ad."
"Which one?"
He has more than one?
"On the wall. The vestibule. Davis Square."
"I see. You are number seven."
"Number seven?"
"Yes, I've had six applicants already from that ad. You are applicant number seven."
"What happened to the others?"
"They didn't pass."
"Now, would you like to start Step One of the application process? It is the only way to determine if you really want this."
The conversation with Jake had stressed me out but this voice wrapped itself around me like a warm blanket, enveloping me in a blanket of calm. I felt an electrical charge between my legs.
I wanted to say no. I wanted to say Who the fuck do you think you are, buddy? What gives you the right to talk to me in such a commanding dominating tone that's starting a raging river in my pussy?
But instead I heard myself say "Yes". Nice and obedient.
"Good. You sound like a perfect candidate, but you will need to prove yourself to me. I only accept people who are ready. You may think you're ready but you may not be. The application process will determine this."
I had planned only to find out what this was all about, then hang up and toss the phone in the trash. But his voice was hypnotic. I wanted to listen to it for a thousand years.
"Shall we proceed?" the voice said.
"Yes," I said.
"Good. Are you near a computer?"
"Yes."
"Go to it now. Tell me when you're there."
Oooh, go to it now. Something primal in me responded to the way he said that. Yep, panties soaked now.
I went to my Mac laptop on the desk in my bedroom. I touched the pad and it sprang to life.
"I'm there," I said.
"Type in the following web address."
He read it off to me and I put it in the browser. It was a series of numbers. Once entered, I hit Return.
It was a one-page site with a list of ten questions. Each one
had a Yes or No checkbox. At the bottom was a Submit button.
"Fill out the questionnaire and hit Submit," he said. "If you are chosen for Step Two of the Three-Step application process, you will be contacted."
The line went dead.
There were ten questions on my computer screen. A couple sips of Pinot Grigio later and I was answering them:
1. Have you ever had a non-traditional relationship (LGBTV or BDSM)?
Yes___ No_X_
2. Do you consider yourself a strong person in general?
Yes_X_ No____
3. Are you primarily attracted to people of the same gender, different gender, or both?
Same___ Different_X_ Both___ Not Sure___
4. Are you often the "leader" of your peer group, co-workers, or family members?
Yes_X_ No___
5. Are you the one everyone leans on, providing support and all the "answers"?
Yes_X_ No___
6. Are you currently in a sexual/romantic relationship?
God, what do I put here? I just had that huge fight with Jake. Yes, I'm supposedly Jake's girlfriend. But am I really? Am I?
Yes___ No_X_
Shit. Did I actually just do that? Am I cheating now? Note to self: Give back the ring tomorrow. I'm not ready to marry Jake. Right?
Another swig of wine and on to the next question.
7. Would you consider it a relief to be told what to do for a change?
Yes_X_ No___
At this, a surge of energy flew down to my pussy. With my left hand, I put the wine down and rubbed myself over my panties.
8. Does the idea of giving up control intrigue you sexually?
Yes_X_ No___
God yes!
I moved my hand under the band of my panties and stroked the outside of my lips up and down.
9. Do you feel bored with traditional sex?
Yes_X_ No___
I dipped my fingers down inside myself, moistening them. Then I squeezed the top end of my labia together, stimulating the bulb of my hardening clit.
10. Would you consider it a fun adventure to push your sexual boundaries in the hands of a dominant man?
I rubbed myself faster and harder, sensing my clit coming out of its little hood as I felt an orgasm build. My hips started to buck all on their own.
Yes_X_ No___
I rubbed my clit in little circles with the tip of my index finger and came.