Chapter Two: An Offer I Can't Refuse
My next life change came when I was fourteen years old, in my last year before high school. My father asked me to join him once again for a conversation. "Do you recall a conversation that we had a few years ago, when you discovered Girl whipped in her room? You asked why I had punished Girl when she had done nothing wrong."
I nodded. It was a long time ago, but the events surrounding it were memorable, and later events caused me to ponder that conversation frequently.
My father continued, "I told you at the time that you were too young to understand, and that I would explain it later. Now is the time that I do that. You are getting older, and unless I am wrong, starting to get interested in girls. Am I correct?"
"That's true," I said, and it was.
I think, however, that I was not as crazy about girls as some of the other boys in my class, because while they were drooling over the thought of seeing a naked girl, I didn't have to drool. Given Girl's outfits, I saw all her private parts every day, and my mother was no longer shy about closing her door, occasionally walking around with no clothing, or sunbathing nude by the pool. As a result, I had two very sexy women that I saw naked on a regular basis.
"I want to explain to you about Girl, your mother, and women in general," my father told me. "I guess you could call it a modified birds and the bees talk."
I nodded for him to continue.
"You understand that Girl does not behave like other women, right?"
"Yes," I replied, nodding.
"Girl is a slave," my father continued. "Girl has given herself up completely to your mother and me."
"Isn't slavery illegal?" I asked. By this point, I had learned all about Abraham Lincoln, the Civil War and the Emancipation Proclamation.
"Yes, it is," my father explained. "However the kind of slavery that is illegal is forced servitude. If I had forced Girl into the house, and I held her here so that she could not leave, that would be illegal. However though she is a slave, it is by her own desire. If she chose to, she could leave her slavery tomorrow. That is not her desire, however.
"In Girl's mind, she does not want to be responsible for anything, so she gave all responsibility over to us. She put herself into voluntary slavery. This means that we are in charge of her, we can do what we want with her. In return we provide for her; all her needs are met and all her decisions are made for her. In addition to wanting to give up all control, Girl is wired in such a way that she likes pain. I don't know why, but that is the way that she is. She enjoys it when I punish her. When you walked into her room four years ago, what I had done was something that gave me pleasure, and though it may surprise you, it gave Girl significant pleasure as well.
"Girl has made herself a complete slave, giving up total control of her life to me and your mother. There are some other women like her, women who want give up all control. Not most, not by a long shot, but there are some. These women are treated like property because they want to be. Girl gets no wages, no vacation, no benefits, because she is like a child. She is not responsible for herself, we are responsible for her. We would take care of Girl if she was hurt in the same way that we would get you medical assistance if you were injured. Do you understand?"
I mostly did, so I nodded.
"OK, so Girl is representative of a small minority of women," my dad continued. "Then there are women like your mother. You might not be aware of this, but she is my slave as well."
As my father disclosed this fact to me, I realized that it explained a lot. He went on, "You mother is not the same kind of slave as Girl. With Girl, there are no boundaries other than what I or your mother dictate, based on our best judgment and feelings of responsibility. Your mother and I, on the other hand, have worked out in advance the limits by which our relationship functions. For instance, your mother does not like pain as much as Girl does. I have agreed that while I might spank or even whip her, I would never torture her. If I chose to torture Girl, on the other hand, she would accept it the same way she accepts everything else.
"Your mother is submissive. She decided that she wanted to be with someone who would control her. This gives her satisfaction on an emotional and sexual level. There are many, many women out there like your mother, but again, most are not. You have to understand that when you start dating one of the girls in your class, if you treated her like I treat Girl, or even like I treat your mother, she would cut your balls off."
"Girl is one end of the spectrum. Your mother is somewhere closer to the middle, but still on the submissive side of the spectrum. As you meet women throughout your life, you will find that they fall at all points of the spectrum.
"I told you that your mother was submissive. This means that she likes it when other people take control of her. Girl would let anyone take control of her while your mother is more selective. On the far opposite spectrum are dominant personalities. As you might have guessed, this is where I fall. I like, no, I need to be in control. Again, there are various points on this side of the spectrum. There are those that need absolute control; these people tend to be megalomaniacs and dangerous people. They can be violent for no reason other than that they want to get their way.
"Further down the spectrum, where I like to think that I am, are people who need to be in control, but can keep a perspective about them. It is this quality that I think makes me successful in business; I am in control of my surroundings, but I am not a despot or a tyrant. I am the same with your mother. I will always listen to what she has to say and take it into account. For instance, she asked me not to talk to you about our sexual lives. I gave this some consideration, and because she wishes me not to, there are some things that I will not tell you, at least not yet. However it is my prerogative to ignore this advice. Because more often than not I do what your mother feels is appropriate, your mother trusts me on this. That is why when I instructed her to answer any questions you might ask about our relationship truthfully, she agreed.
"I would encourage you to ask her any questions that you might have about why she behaves as she does or how she feels about being my slave. While I can answer questions about what it is like to be dominant, I cannot speak about the feelings that a submissive has."
That was an interesting offer, though I was not sure if I was up to discussing this with my mother.
"Getting back to the spectrum," my father continued, "just as with submissives, there are dominants across all ranges. There are people that are only dominant, and there are people that are sometimes dominant and sometimes submissive.
"However the majority of people fall into the middle of the road. They like to be in charge sometimes, while at different times they like others to be in charge. The distinction is so narrow that they are not considered either dominant or submissive. Do you understand what I am saying?"
"I think so," I said. "But what am I? Dominant, submissive or neither?"
"I don't know," my father answered, "and frankly, I'd be surprised if you do. You are not born on a particular point on the spectrum, and you do not stay at one point for your entire life. You change throughout your life. When I was your age, I had no clue. As I was growing up, I had suspicions that I was dominant, but I was too naive and immature to really assert myself, especially with women.
"In your case, I would suspect, based around your actions with Girl and even your mother, you may end up dominant. However your actions could simply be mimicking what you see in me, and not an indication of your real feelings. Being who I am, however, puts me in a position to provide you with something that I did not have as a boy growing up. As I said, I was too naive to know how to act around women. Even though I wanted to be in charge, I wanted to get laid more, and as a consequence, I put up with a lot of nonsense that resulted in many unhappy relationships. This is something that I think I can help you avoid."
"How?" I asked.
"By taking some of the pressure off of you. I assume at your age that you are curious and interested in sex?" my father asked.
"Of course," I said.
"Than what I am going to do is ensure that when you start dating girls, you will not be a fumbling amateur, so desperate get laid that you are willing to do anything to get between her legs," my father explained to me. "What I am going to do is give you the use of Girl as a sex aid."
"A sex aid?" I asked incredulously.
"I have instructed Girl to not only allow you complete access to her body at any time, but to teach you what to do. To show you the things a woman likes to have done to her, to make sure that you are a good lover. In addition, when you do start dating, she will be here for your use, so that when a date tries to tease you to get what she wants, you will only give it to her if you want to, because you know that there is a woman at home that will meet your every need in ways that the girls you date could not possibly do.
"Now I want you to understand that, just as I said about the punishment, Girl is not your typical woman. While she will teach you how to make love to a woman, that is the easy part. Convincing a woman to want to be with you is much harder, and Girl will not teach you that at all. Girl will do everything you ask, no matter how disgusting or vile or pleasurable or fulfilling. If you tell her you want to take a dump in her mouth, she will swallow it. If you did that to another woman, she would freak out, tell all her friends, and you would be a pariah.
"As with punishments, you have to understand that how you treat Girl is not how you treat other women. When it becomes time for you to begin dating, I will help you understand that as well, but for now, you may use Girl to your heart's content. Do you understand?"
I thought about it for a minute or two before I answered. "Yes, I do, though I am a bit nervous. How do I approach her?"
"You don't have to approach her," my father told me. "You command her. You say, Girl, come to my bed and pleasure me. Or if you want to learn, tell her to teach you. You may have her any way that you like."
"Are there no limits?" I asked.
"That's an excellent question," my father said proudly. "Yes, there are limits. You may not injure her in any permanent way; nothing that will leave scars or marks. If you have questions about what you can or cannot do, ask either me or your mother."
"Mother?" I asked, not sure I could talk to her about this.
"Absolutely," my father said. "I've already told you that there are things that she can tell you about that I cannot. In addition, she is home far more frequently, so if there is something that you want to know immediately, I want you to feel completely comfortable asking your mother. It will be important, so I want your word that if you have questions and I am not around, you will go to your mother and not just soldier on."
"OK, sir," I said.
"Good," said my father. "Shall I send for Girl now?"
"If you don't mind, sir, I think I'd like to wait a little bit," I told my dad. "You told me a lot of things and I need to think about all of them. Is it OK if I approach Girl when I am ready?"
"That's fine son," my father said. "One other thing, though. I want you to understand that this is an opportunity for you. I am not suggesting that what you want to be in life is a dominant. If you choose a different point on the spectrum that you feel comfortable with, both I and your mother are fine with that. What this is giving you is a way to let you decide for yourself what you like. OK?"
"OK," I said.
I went to my room to think. I had been telling my father the truth, if not the whole truth. There were a lot of things going on in my mind. I was definitely nervous about doing things with Girl. Of course every boy has fantasies; in school, boys boast about what they would do if they were with a girl, but this was reality. How would I handle it? How should I handle it?
That was not my primary concern, however. Certainly, the lust I had at the thought and the familiarity I was allowed with Girl would allow me to plow right through that issue. My main concern was digesting all the information that my father had given me. He had covered a lot of ground, and while I understood it intellectually (or at least as intellectually as fourteen year old could, I could not get my mind completely around it.
Surprisingly, given that I was a fourteen year old, given carte blanche access to a sexy woman, I did not call for Girl for a few days. Each time I thought about it, I didn't follow up. Finally, I did the unthinkable and went to my mother.
"Mom," I asked, "can we talk?"
"Sure, honey," she replied, "What about?"
"Dad. You. Girl. Me," I replied. "I think I need to understand it better."
"I was afraid of this," my mother said. "I told your father I thought you were too young to grasp it all, but he insisted you weren't."
"Well, I don't know which of you is right, but I certainly have questions," I said.
"Well, your father has instructed me to talk to you very openly and honestly about our relationship. There are a few areas that I won't talk about, but I will answer any questions that I can as well as I can."
"That's all I can ask for," I said. "Dad told me a little about how he became the way that he did, and he explained all the parts about the spectrum, and I can understand how he wants to be in control of things. But I don't understand what you and Girl feel. Could you tell me how you knew you felt the way that you did, how you decided you wanted to live like this, and how you met dad?"
"A tall order," she said, "but I'll see what I can do."
"I grew up a fairly typical teenager," Mom began. "I started dating in high school, and just like my friends, I would go out with a boy and make out, but always pull away before either of us were satisfied. It was just the way that things were done. I finally gave in and lost my virginity in my last year of high school. I thought that I loved the boy, but it was just my hormones convincing me that I loved him so that it would be OK to have sex. We broke up before we went off to college. I dated a bit in college, and I slept with a number of men, playing by the same rules as in high school. I was in charge, telling the boy how far I would let him go. I would tease the boy, and make him suffer. I'd often relent and let him have me, but that was on my terms as well.
"While this was the only way that I knew how to act, it was strangely unfulfilling. All the boys I dated seemed like pushovers, and the sex we had was just so-so. Then one day I met this man named Adrian at a bar, just like I had met many of the others. We hit it off, and he asked me out. We went to a movie, and he put his arm around me and pulled me close. With most dates, they would slowly slide an arm around me, testing the waters, and if I let them, they'd slowly pull me closer. Not this man. We sat down in the theater, and he put his arm around me without asking. I was surprised, but I let him get away with it, because it felt nice.
"When he dropped me off at home, he kissed me good-night. It was a powerful kiss, and as he was doing it he put his arms around me and cupped my ass in his hands. I pulled back and said something like, 'No, no, no,' in a teasing voice. He backed up, looked at me, then took my hand and kissed it. He said, 'Thank you for a lovely date, but I'm afraid we won't be seeing each other again.'
"I was stunned. I was having such a nice time, and I thought he was as well. He started to turn away, but I called out, 'Wait! What's wrong?'
"He looked at me and said, 'I won't play your games.'
"I said, 'What games are you talking about? I'm not playing any games!'
"'Oh yes you are,' he said. 'You are teasing and controlling. You will play the innocent girl and let me touch you just so much, but not any more, even though you know that both you and I want more. But it would be against the rules of your game to give in just because you want it. You have to let me kiss you, then later you will let me feel you up, eventually, if I treat you like a princess, maybe you'll play with me. One day, eventually, you'll let me into your pants.
"'Well I don't play that game. I like you and I want you. More importantly Mary, you like me and want me, even if you can't admit it to yourself. But you will not have me this way. When you are ready to grow up, give me a call and we'll try again. Until then…' and he turned around and walked away. As I said, I was stunned. I didn't know how to react, but I realized one thing. He was right, I did want him. In fact, I was dripping wet. Do you know what that means, when a woman is dripping wet, Jake?"
"It means she is excited?" I asked. I had heard things around school, after all.
"That's right. It is just like when a man has a hard-on. Well right then I realized that I had a hard-on for Adrian. I wanted him, but I didn't know how not to play the game. I waited until I thought he would be home, then I called him. I told him that I was sorry, and that I wouldn't play games anymore. He said, 'You left me high and dry, and for no good reason. I'll try once more with you, but you have to prove that you aren't going to be playing games. When I come pick you up tomorrow, I don't want you wearing any underwear. I want you to show me that you did what I asked, and then I will take you out. When the date is over, assuming that we both had a nice time, I am going to bring you home, take your clothes off, and then I will fuck you. If you can't handle it, just be wearing underwear when I get there.' Then he hung up.
"I had told him that I wouldn't play games, but he was very blunt. I couldn't believe the things that he had said, and I decided that regardless of how I felt about him, I would not go out with him again. I got into bed, and I tried to sleep, but I couldn't. I kept thinking about what he said, and before I knew it I was masturbating. I must have masturbated a half dozen times that night."
I knew that this would be an embarrassing conversation. I mean, how many fourteen years olds hear about their mother masturbating? Nonetheless, I listened as she went on.
"All the next day I was on pins and needles. I knew that I just had to tell him that we could not go out. When he came over that night, he gave me a kiss on my cheek and said, 'Well Mary, are we going out tonight?' My mouth was about to tell him, 'No, we can't see each other,' when my hands reached down and picked up my skirt, showing him my naked pussy. He hadn't even gotten to second base and I has showing him home plate.
"He took me out, and it was a lovely date, and though I was very aware of my lack of underwear, he acted as if there was nothing different. And when the date was over, and it was clear that we had both had a good time, he followed through on his promise. It was the best sex I had ever had. We dated for a few months before we broke up, and while it was not a master/slave relationship, he was definitely the one in charge. After that I dated some others, and the ones that let me be in charge left me wanting. I did date a few more men like Adrian, and I enjoyed myself in those relationships. Then you father came along and showed me what it was like to be truly submissive, and I have been happy since."
She paused for a breath and said, "I can't believe that I just told the story of my sex life to my teenage son."
"I feel the same way, but thank you for telling me, Mom," I said. "I think it helps me understand things better." I paused for a few moments, digesting what she had said, and then I asked, "What about Girl? How did you find her? How did she decide she wanted to be this way? Is it really fair to treat her like this?"
"Mmmmm, harder questions that lead to more embarrassing revelations," my mother said. "You know that your father and I have sex, I assume. What you probably don't know is that sometimes we also have sex with other people, other masters and their slaves. It was during one of these occasions that we came across Girl. She had just recently gotten into being a slave, and she was with someone who could not take the complete control from her that she wanted. They both recognized that, and they knew that your father could give her what she wanted. So the man traded her to your father."
"Traded her?" I asked. "For what?"
My mother blushed and said, "Me. I moved in with him for one month and served as his slave, while your father brought Girl home and trained her properly. When I returned home, Girl was part of our household, and she has been ever since."
"Didn't it bother you that he made you do that?" I asked.
My mother blushed even deeper and lowered her eyes. In a quiet voice she said, "No. It excited me that he made me do that. And having Girl around was certainly worthwhile. I got pregnant a little while after I returned home and Girl was invaluable in helping us through that time."
I sat quietly for a long time, thinking about all that my mother had told me. My mother just sat there waiting for me. Eventually, I said "Thank you for telling me all of this, Mom."
She said, "It was my duty and my pleasure. Are you going to be using Girl soon?"
"I think that I will," I said, "but not just yet. I still have some thinking to do." I went to bed and thought about everything that I had heard. It was a lot for me to digest.