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or mock me. Maybe simply a gift to a lover with whom he d spent so much time.
Thank you, Matthew, was all I dared say in the end.
Do you like it?
Yes. I love it. It s beautiful.
He stared at me, long and hard, but I gave him nothing, no emotional reaction. I felt
suddenly we were both teetering on the edge of a cliff.
I love everything you give me, I said as an afterthought, and thankfully, he left it at that.
He took me back to his house afterward, and when I turned towards the basement, he pulled
me instead up the stairs. Not on Christmas Eve. I won t beat on you tonight.
You can if you want.
No.
Up in his room, he took off my dress as I kicked off my shoes. Go stand against the wall,
he said, stripping out of his clothes. He pushed me over to the broad white wall, the one without
the paintings, and I stood there in my black stockings with my hands at my sides. He sat on the
bed, looking at me, stroking his cock which was already huge and hard.
Play with yourself. Stroke your clitty, pinch your tits.
I did what he asked, trying to look sexy. He didn t like that at all.
Fucking submissive. Harder. Touch yourself. He stood up and strode over to me.
I moaned as he pinched my nipples, then twisted them mercilessly hard. He reached between
my legs and found my swollen clit and pinched that too until I danced under his touch.
You little cum whore, he breathed. Come on. Come for me, let me watch you.
I reached out to him and squeezed his shoulder hard, and he let me, so I kept squeezing, just
as he squeezed and worked my sodden clit. Come on, you little slut, he prompted me again,
then he pressed himself against me, pressed me to the wall and kissed me hard and violently,
with more feeling than he ever had before. He hauled me over to the bed and pushed me onto my
hands and knees and drove into me standing up from behind. He came just moments later,
driving hard, then collapsed on top of me, his lips against my neck.
Before he even caught his breath, he gasped, Lie down. Lie down and spread your legs. I
did, the obedient slave, and he fell on me at once. He stroked my thighs, bit the top of my
stockings, licked and teased me while I flew on a high of sexual pleasure and pure infatuation for
the man who mastered me.
He devoured me, kissed and sucked my sore clit, licked my pussy and asshole with a fervor
that made me wild. He had gone down on me on many occasions, but this time, somehow, it was
even more abandoned and wild. The arousal built, throbbed, turned inside out and then exploded.
I came apart, thrashing under his mouth. He held my thighs hard between his hands and began
again. I begged for respite, but he allowed none. He made me come again, this time finishing by
thrusting his thick fingers in and out of my cunt. As I came, he gazed down at me chanting,
Yes. Yes, beautiful girl.
He lay beside me then on the bed while I gasped for breath, completely spent, sprawled at
his side. He watched me, his head propped on his hand.
I have an unhealthy addiction to watching you come.
I looked over at him. I ve noticed. I don t mind.
He stroked my face a moment, and then leaned over and kissed me like a true lover, and I let
myself kiss him back just the same. We kissed like that while time spun away, and then he broke
away from me. He suddenly seemed agitated and cross.
Lucy, can you go home now? I ll call a cab for you. You can t stay here tonight. I ve got
things to do in the morning. You understand.
I nodded. Yes, I did. Of course I did. I took a cab home that he insisted on paying for, and I
was really okay with that. I climbed the stairs to my little apartment with my framed Keats poem
clutched in my hands.
Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest...
Matthew, my handsome and mysterious priest. And I, the urn, frozen in beauty, not
permitted to change.
He was the artist, the priest, the shaman, and I was the urn, existing only to receive.
* * *
That lovely Christmas Eve night that Matthew took me to dinner was an anomaly, certainly,
perhaps an attempt at holiday cheer. It was nice, but I think it made both of us uneasy. We
returned after the bustle of the holidays to our regular schedule and my stringent sessions in his
basement continued just as before.
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