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He arrived in a suit, complete with tie, perfectly creased pants and cuff links. All that just to take a final. Typical. It's unclear to me if he even owned a pair of jeans. An 85 degree summer evening and he's dressed to impress and still looking infuriatingly clean, cool and relaxed. Sweat, apparently, was the kind of thing that happened to other people. I, on the other hand, had gone with casual jeans and a tank top. A pretty low cut tank top that showed off my chest wonderfully. I had given myself a little eyeliner, which is downright fancy for me, but we were still quite the mismatched looking pair.

          It was completely typical for us. He nearly bankrupted himself on fashion while I'd probably break my legs if I tried to walk in heels. Much though I teased him about it, I had to admit that it made him look damn good. The way the sharply cut clothes hugged his sides and showed off his athletic frame... and those pants hugged his ass just exactly right...

There's literally thousands of amazing places to eat in Brooklyn close to Malcolm's house. Jersey City, on the other hand... not so much. There are plenty of upsides to living on the wrong side of Manhattan. Like being able to afford rent and being able to leave your house without getting mobbed, for example. The biggest one is the view. The views of downtown Manhattan from Jersey City are the single best city views on Earth. I was very happy for this as Malcolm and I settled into an italian restaurant by the water because It drew his attention away from me as I struggled to compose myself.

'Just breathe,' I told myself, 'It's Malcolm, you talk to him online every day.' But he hadn't even once checked out my cleavage. Hadn't even eyed my ass while I'd tied my shoe. It didn't fill me with confidence.

"It's amazing," he said, gazing out over the water towards Battery Park and Wall Street, "Captivates my attention no matter how many times I see it."

"Yeah."

A pleasant breeze blew off the water over us, driving away the worst of the summer heat. It waved through Malcolm's hair in a very eye-catching way. Heat rose through my body that had nothing to do with the temperature. He was just so fucking sexy in a suit... Across the road from our table, tourists crowded the riverside path. A group with a selfie stick were getting in the way of everybody else and some bikers tried in vain to move faster than a crawl. We both laughed when one unwary kid lost a pretzel to a seagull.

"You know I'm dying of suspense over here."

I jumped, realizing his attention had shifted to me. Time to tell him. But all at once, the haze of arousal I'd tried to shield myself in vanished. Butterflies fluttered through my stomach and I felt myself blush. 'It's Malcolm! You tell him everything else! If he were anybody else in the world, you'd already be flirting with him. For fuck's sake! You're a grown ass woman, get your shit together.'

"What?" was all I managed to get out. 'Goddamnit!'

"Hmm... lets see if I can guess. You didn't finish the ARA project at work, you would have celebrated that right away without being cryptic about it. Same goes for Tyler finally getting fired. You didn't get a raise or you would have bought the most expensive wine on the menu. That one bit at the end makes me really curious. 'Don't let you say it's nothing.' Whatever could you mean by that?"

Malcolm is a complete slave to his own curiosity, so I'd expected something like this and I'd spent hours figuring out how I'd handle it. I'd tried a bunch of variants of tactfully easing into the topic. I hated all of them. Subtlety really isn't my thing. I sighed, gritted my teeth, and burst out:

"I want to be your girlfriend." I don't get to see surprise on Malcolm's face very often. It felt nice to swap our typical roles like that. Let him be the off balance one for once. I'd said it! I'd finally said it! "God, I've wanted to say that for years! But you were always dating someone or I was too much of a coward or I hoped you would make a move on me on your own." I tried to gauge his reaction but couldn't. His serious poker face was on and it made me uneasy. "And... I guess I'm tired of waiting. And I know you've been miserable with all those Tinder hookups. You've been trying to be someone you're not since you and Chloe broke up. I want you to be your full self with me. So yeah, there it is... please say something."

Was that fear on his face? No... apprehension? A pit opened up in my stomach, threatening to drag me down into it. But no, there was more there. Desire? Longing? Was I just showing myself emotions I wanted to see? 'Please say something!' I internally begged, 'please!'

Finally, he did. "Wow, that's a lot to take in." Some of the shroud lifted and he offered a tentative smile. "You can relax. I do want you. Very much."

"You do?" 'AHHHHH!'

"Yes, and I'm sorry if I've made you feel unwanted.

His words and his expression were not matching up. "You don't look thrilled."

He sighed. "I'm thinking about what you said about me being something I'm not. I suppose you're right, but I'd like to hear it from your perspective. What makes you say that?"

"You've seemed down on yourself. Not so much around me, but just in general. You don't seem so sure of yourself and have these tiny delays. It's like you have a normal reaction to things that you're suppressing or rethinking or something. I noticed it a little after your breakup and its felt like you're not getting any better." Admitting the next part was difficult, but it had to be said, "look, I know I've been a total jealous bitch about all your girlfriends and I'm sorry I never asked about you and Chloe, but I know she was your first really serious long term D/s relationship. Things ended badly with her and you've been trying to turn off the dominant part of yourself. But you can't. It's just who you are, and it a part of you that makes you happy."

"And you say you're not perceptive about people..." he muttered to himself. Then, louder, "So you want to date me to put me back together?"

I pointedly looked him up and down, letting my eyes linger over his lips, his fit figure and directly into his crotch. "Well... that's not only that reason." I'd never tried flirting with him and it felt good. I wanted to move the conversation away from downbeat areas and focus more on us together, but it didn't work.

"What if there's a good reason for me trying to leave power exchange behind? What if I seriously hurt Chloe and I decided that getting turned on by the pain of my lover is a little fucked up?"

'Oh god, how much is he hurting inside?' I felt terrible, realizing that my jealousy had stopped me being supportive. I wanted to hug him, but I knew that wasn't the way to get to him. He responded best to rationality. "You're implying that you were abusive and I highly doubt that's true. You're one of the most emphatic people I know. Am I wrong about that?"

"No..." he said hesitantly, "not abusive like that. But I did break her trust a number of times. Well, I suppose in fairness, we both broke each other's trust. But still—"

"Malcolm," I cut him off, "we're twenty-five. We're young! We sometimes do things we regret." I took his hand from across the table and squeezed it for emphasis. "You can't keep punishing yourself forever. You deserve to be happy." His hand was firm and powerful in mine. I enjoyed holding it more than I'd expected.

We both gazed down at our joined hands. He seemed to like it too. But still, he was unconvinced. I felt like I was getting close...

I pressed him a little harder, "Look, you're not happy now. Don't deny it, we both know its true. Reasons aside, you gave the vanilla lifestyle more than its fair chance, and the experiment has failed. Maybe it's time to try getting back on the metaphorical bicycle? Older and wiser, yaknow?" I held my breath as he thought about it. Seconds ticked by, but I didn't know what else to say.

Slowly, he smiled. Something about him changed, almost imperceptibly. He seemed slightly larger in my vision and slightly less tense. I could tell it wasn't over. I would still have a lot of work to do healing away his scars, but he seemed willing to give me a chance.

"You're right, I have not been happy. I confess, I've missed it." He gave me a wolfish look, hungry with desire, "Maybe it's selfish of me, but I feel like I wanted you to talk me into it. Maybe especially because it's you..." The unmistakable lust in his eyes absolutely thrilled me. Especially because it's me? Was it possible that he'd fantasized about me too? My breathing sped up and my own desire reignited. It started to feel real. I was going to get him! I gripped his hand harder, possessively. 'Mine!'

"But still," Malcolm continued, "I want to make sure you understand what you're getting yourself into. There's a big difference between being my girlfriend and being my submissive."

"That's fine, I want to be—" He silenced me with his eyes. To this day, I have no idea how he does that. Nothing physically changes in them, but somehow, it works every time. It was the first time I'd really felt his dominance directed at me. I'd felt it before, seen it on display in different shades constantly, but he'd never really hit me with it like that. It had an immediate effect. Words died in my mouth and I shivered. I pressed my legs together, feeling the warmth within me intensify.

"This is important. If you really want me to be my full and unbridled self, then we're not just talking about some kinky sex a few times a week. We're talking about you giving yourself over to me. Physically, mentally and emotionally, I'll aim to own the entirety of what makes you Devyn. It would be very different from the friendship we've had all our adult lives. Are you sure that's what you want?"

I met his serious tone unflinchingly. "Yes. I want to try. There will be a learning curve, but I want this."

"I know you do. You have your mind set and you are determined to see it through. That stubborn streak of yours will be quite fun to play with." He was looking me over, far more overtly sexually than he ever had in our whole relationship. Deliberately showing me his attention on my breasts, my lips, my neck. I squeezed my legs together harder, reveling in his attention. As he stared openly at my cleavage, my nipples hardened, as if they wanted his recognition too.

"Nevertheless," Malcolm continued, "I won't feel right unless I do my best to give you as much understanding as possible before we change things between us. But it's difficult for me to talk about because I've never experienced the sub's side." He considered, then pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. "There's a friend of mine who lives pretty close that I'd like to invite to join us. She can tell you everything she wishes somebody had told her before she dove into submission."

I thought about pushing back. I was already damn sure what I wanted. All I wanted to do was get through dinner quickly, rush home and strip him out of that suit. But he was trying to do what he thought was right and he would feel better knowing he'd done it. So, I resigned myself to waiting just a little longer. "If it's really important to you, alright."

"Think of it as informed consent. Besides, you'll like her. She's very much your type." He paused, considering, before he continued, "and there's a bit of background information you should probably know first."

'A bit' didn't exactly cover it. Turns out that there was a ton Malcolm had never told me while he was shielding me from girlfriend envy. He and Chloe had met some like minded couples on Fetlife and they got together every few weeks. He was skimpy on the details, but it sounded like their meetings were very sexual in a not entirely monogamous way. A wistful look played across his features as he described the open dynamic among them, how they enabled and supported each other and how it was nice to be openly kinky around people who understood. Apparently, he'd grown distant with them since the breakup. This friend of his, Nicole, was part of that group with her mistress, and she lived a short walk away. Small world.

-------------------

Nicole appeared at our table just as we were paying the check. I say 'appeared' because it really seemed like she materialized out of nowhere. One second Malcolm was doing tip math, and the next there was a small, pale woman hugging him. I gathered they hadn't seen each other in some time from her accusations that Malcolm sucked at staying in touch and was a dick for springing a reunion on her in the middle of the night.

Just like Malcolm had said, I did like the look of her. She was small, a full head shorter than me, but athletically built with tough looking hands and a hiker's legs. She wore a t-shirt with a local bar's print and jeans ripped at the knees to be shorts. Her breasts looked wonderful, firm and full enough to be fun but compact enough that they wouldn't bother her while running. Short cut red hair framed her face, angled to one side to show off the orbital and helix piercings in one ear. She was focused on eyeing me up simultaneously as I took her in. Our eyes met and the spark of attraction between us would have sent my gaydar ringing even if Malcolm hadn't mentioned her mistress. My type indeed. I sat up straighter and made a show of sticking out my chest.

She liked what she saw. "Who's your cute friend?" She asked. When she heard my name, Nicole gasped, "You're the one he's always talking about! It's great to finally meet you, I'm really happy this idiot finally got over himself and brought you to our world."

'He's always talking about me?' I filed that away for later.

"As a matter of fact," I pointed out, "He didn't do anything. I asked him out and he's still dragging his feet about it."

Nicole gave Malcolm an incredulous stare. "YOU got asked out by a girl?"

He laughed, "Is it really that hard to believe somebody might find me attractive?"

"It's hard to believe that you'd need somebody else to take the initiative."

I joined Malcolm's laughter, happy somebody else appreciated my struggle. "Don't you gang up on me too!" he jokingly put his hands up. "Anyway, before we get too into it, we should probably give them their table back. You both interested in ice cream? There's a good spot close by."

We ended up munching cold sugar creamy wonderfulness in a park near my house. We'd brought Nicole more up to speed and I found myself liking her. The way she crossed bubbly warmth with irreverent directness made her very easy to connect with. She did have a lot to share about 'our world' as she put it.

Some of her observations were smaller amusing anecdotes. Like, for example, how she found herself mixing cuffs and crops into her analogies and needed to watch herself at work. Or how the most frequent reason she had to stop a bondage scene was to use the bathroom.

Others were bigger and more abstract. Everything in Nicole's life felt supercharged. The highs were higher, the lows were lower and she rarely felt neutral. Her mistress was into orgasm control, so Nicole was perpetually horny. Everything she did felt in some way sexual, from getting dressed in the morning to ordering Starbucks to meeting a stranger and reflexively checking them out. Sometimes, something as simple as taking a deep breath on a clear sunny day could make her feel incredibly ALIVE in an all upper-case letters way. Far from frightening me away, or whatever Malcolm had expected, it made me more interested. My own experiments in that department gave me some sense of what she was trying to say, and I liked the idea of adding some spice to my daily life. She blamed it all on Malcolm, who she called 'The Wizard', for introducing her mistress to tease and denial.

The look on his face made me ask, "Why are you 'The Wizard'?"

He ignored me and scowled at Nicole, "I hoped you'd forgotten that damn nickname. Why don't you tell her about yours, Firefly?" For some reason, despite all the personally sexual stuff she'd already unabashedly shared, this made Nicole's cheeks flush.

"Hers is easy, her hair is really fiery," I pointed out.

"Yes, Firefly because I'm a redhead," Nicole quickly said, "Anyway back to Wiz--"

"Nicole." Malcolm smoothly cut through her words like a knife. Neither louder nor softer, but with unmistakable authority that made me shiver and Nicole jump like she'd been caught on her phone at work.

"Fine!" She confessed, "I got my nickname in our little group because, when Mistress Sam spanks me, my pale white ass glows like a firefly." We all laughed. It got me to wondering, though. Enough people had seen this phenomena to be in on the nickname?

"How many people have seen you get spanked?"

"Everyone in the meetup group and a few other friends of ours." She blushed deeper, making her light up in a very cute way. "That's not nearly the heaviest shit that's happened for a crowd."

'What is the heaviest shit that's happened in this group?' I wondered, but decided to hold that question for another time. Malcolm had deflected and I couldn't just let him get away with refocusing attention away from himself.

"Back to you now. Why are you the Wizard?"

"It's because he can do magic--" Nicole began

"I can't do magic," Malcolm said with a roll of his eyes.

"--Even though he denies it," she pressed through his interruption. "Fortunately, you don't need to take my word or his for it! You can look at some evidence and decide for yourself." She whipped out her phone.

"Don't tell me you have that video saved and you carry it around everywhere you go." Malcolm groaned.

"Of course I do! Do you have any idea how hot it is to us subs?" She passed her phone to me, "do you have any headphones on you? Here, use mine. Seriously though, Malcolm, it's a good thing for her to see if you want to give an idea of how intense power exchange can get."

He sighed but nodded, "Okay, but bear in mind that it is the very extreme end. It should serve as a warning."

I looked between them, trying to decide how serious they were. "That's a whole lot of buildup. Pardon me if I'm skeptical anything can live up to it." Malcolm smiled knowingly, as if to remind me that he'd spent years exchanging porn with me and he knew damn well what would live up to my expectations.

Headphones in, I hit play.

Sexual Content Ahead

Immediately, I was assailed by graphic sex. The camera focused on a pretty woman lying on her back on a raised table with her eyes closed, arms by her side and her legs spread. Specifically, it focused on her pussy, which was very clearly very hot. Rivulets of wetness traced from her nethers down to her ass and her pelvic muscles spasmed. A shadowy figured crouched by her head, seeming to whisper in her ears. Occasionally, he would caress her. Her face, her neck, her hair, his touches were gentle and seemed to covey warmth and affection... and love.

I shifted uncomfortably. It was clearly Chloe on the table and Malcolm above her. 'Don't be jealous, he's yours now, soon those fingers will be caressing you.'

He never went below her collarbones, but her body responded like he had a vibrator pressed to her clit. Her abs flexed, her breasts heaved and all her muscles quivered. She convulsed but never shifted, like she was a mime acting out being tied by invisible ropes. Her arms pressed straight down while her thighs

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