Eventide (Her Father, My Master) (16 page)

chair all the way from the kitchen. And I was a bundle of nerves, myself. I just wanted this day to go

well. That was my only wish for this holiday.

It didn't. It started out well enough, of course, but soon it devolved into the usual tense not-quite-

yelling, but certainly not friendly conversation.

“I don't know why I even came here!” Kandace huffed and stood. They'd been here for a few hours,

and dinner had just been served. “Come on Steven, we're out of here.”

Steven looked around the room, hoping to find someone to help him smooth out the ruffled feathers on

my mom and Kandace, but both my dad and I gave him helpless looks. We certainly couldn't control

either of them.

“We're not coming back until you can accept my life choices,” Kandace said coldly as Steven

collected their coats. Without another word, they both left. Kandace slammed the door on her way out.

My mom immediately started crying.

“Well, this is a nice dinner,” I muttered, and dad shot me a warning glare. I decided not to say

anything else.

Mom left the room, and dad and I finished our dinner in silence. Nothing had a flavor. It was all

tasteless mush in my mouth. I had to give it to Kandace. She gave us the worst Thanksgiving yet.

I couldn't say I wasn't expecting it. She and mom both were powder kegs just ready to blow. It was

frustrating to be around them, at times. I wasn't expecting this holiday to be a pleasant one, and I wasn't expecting Christmas to be any better either.

I didn't know why, but I decided to seek mom out. I found her on the back deck. It was still light out,

but it was chilly. She didn't even have a jacket on, just a heavy red sweater, and her arms were wrapped

around her for warmth.

“I just don't know where I went wrong,” she said quietly as my shoes thumped on the wood of the

deck. It was an old construction – it was older than me by a few years, and the weathered, aged wood

showed it.

“If you don't know, I sure don't,” I said, and she jumped at my voice.

“Oh, it's you,” she said. “I thought you were-”

“I know. Dad.” I walked up next to her, and leaned against the railing. “For the record, I don't think

you did a lot wrong when you raised us.”

“But look at Kandace.”

“So what? She's smart, she's going to a good college, she's getting good grades, she's married to a

good man. I'd say she's doing well for herself,” I pointed out.

“But to married, so young? And to such an older man?”

I shrugged. “It's her choice. And he's good guy. Really.”

Mom narrowed her eyes as she looked out on our small, fenced backyard. “You say that, but you don't

know him.”

“You're right, I don't. But I trust Kandace to not be an idiot. And you should too.”

Her mouth quirked at that. I knew why. Here I was, dispensing advice to my own mother.

“And I think I know why you're pissed off,” I continued, feeling brave.

She turned her head, looking at me now. “Why's that?”

“Because she's deviated from your fantasy plan. She wasn't supposed to get married until after

graduating, to some Mr. Perfect student she met while attending, right? Some doctor or lawyer, or some

rich guy.”

“Now, I never said I wanted those things-”

“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “But Kandace has always been the model everything. So you

expected her to keep doing things perfectly and perfectly conventionally. Maybe this is just her way of

rebelling against you and dad.”

“Hell of a way to rebel.”

“I could think of worse ways. At least she isn't into drinking and partying and doing drugs,” I pointed

out.

“True.”

I shivered. The cold was really starting to get to me. “Think about it,” I said as I turned to go back

into the house.

“Krys?” mom called after me.

“Huh?”

“Thanks. You've really grown a lot. I'm proud of you.”

I felt a pang of guilt, just then. I may have matured a little bit, but I was still hiding secrets from her and dad both. Secrets that I already knew I would never reveal.

To my surprise and pleasure, the books arrived on Friday. That was fast, but I was hoping for fast.

I'd ordered the materials from a store not too far from here, but I still wasn't expecting them to arrive until Saturday. Now I would have a chance to look through everything before I shoved them off to Derrick.

The first book was just a catch-all introduction to BDSM. Even I learned some things from it as I

thumbed through the pages, and I found names for some of the things my master and I did together, and

some of the feelings I experienced. It was enlightening, to say the least.

The second book was more of a tutorial for Derrick. He had the will, and I thought he had the drive to

be a good dom. At least, I hoped he did. He was such a doormat sometimes, but the potential was still

there. And he was willing. That was most important of all.

Saturday rolled around far too quickly. I didn't feel ready for this. Honestly, I didn't think much was

going to happen, but still. One doesn't enter a BDSM arrangement with someone else and not have sex

happen eventually. At least, I didn't think that was the norm.

I didn't even know what Derrick was expecting, at this point.

Still, I worked up the nerve to make it to the coffee shop. His car was already there, a tiny red Civic

hatchback that looked like it was about a million years old. And he was standing right in front of it,

looking as nervous as I felt.

“Hey!” he said as soon as I parked next to him and stepped out of my car. I could practically see the

questions written on his face as I stood next to him.
Should I kiss her? Hug her? Shake her hand?
I solved the dilemma for him by going in for a quick hug and kissing him on the cheek. Like the Europeans

did, I told myself. It didn't mean anything more than that.

Still, I felt the thrill of touching another person. Another man. I would have to guard myself carefully

during these sessions. That's all they were. Training. I already had my obligation to my master, and I

loved what we had. I repeated that to myself as I climbed into Derrick's Civic, as he drove us to his

apartment, as we climbed up the stairs, as he opened the door and led me inside.

I needed it to be true. But if it was true, if my master was all I needed, why did I agree to this?

“So,” he asked. “Where do we begin?”

“Here,” I said, grabbing my hefty bag and pulling out the two books, along with some text I'd printed

from various forums and websites. “You need to read all of this, and start practicing.”

“Practicing?” He swallowed almost cartoonishly as he grabbed the stack of materials out of my hands

and started leafing through them. “This is a little more clinical than I thought it would be.”

I shrugged. “This is training. Consider it like a college course.”

He grinned. “Should I expect quizzes?”

I punched him in the shoulder. “No. Just teaching.”

“Ow!” But his mock pain wasn't very convincing. He was smiling the entire time, and I smiled back.

I liked this. It brought back memories of the summer, of working and laughing and joking around with

him. It seemed almost... normal.

We spent the next four hours going through the books. I told him everything I could think of, from the

way he should walk and talk, to the way he should dress. And I told him about how he should act in bed,

as well. It was a lot to cover. A whole lot. I knew this was going to take weeks, if not months.

By the end of the session, we had a little kissing lesson. At first, Derrick was polite as he always

was, only demurely pecking me on my lips.

“You have to be more aggressive,” I instructed. “Like this.” Without a further word, I leaner forward

and pushed my body against his, grabbing his arms and gripping them tightly as I kissed him passionately.

He pulled back at first, but then eagerly returned that kiss.

I pulled away when he started to get too into it. “Remember how you were to me in the shop? More

like that.”

“I know, it's just difficult. I worry about hurting you, or overstepping my bounds.”

I sighed. “That's what the safe word is for. Establish that with your girlfriend. She knows her

boundaries. It's your job to press them.”

“But I have boundaries too,” he pointed out.

“You do, and it's also your job to push them as well. I never said being a dom was easy.”

“I know, I know.”

“But it is worth it. The sex is mindblowing.”

Just then, he narrowed his eyes at me. “Who is your dom, anyways? He seems to really know his

stuff, if he taught you everything you know.”

I flushed slightly, and ducked my head. “No one you know. Someone from college.” A lie. I was

never good at lying. And I was pretty sure Derrick saw right through me, but he didn't push the matter.

We continued to practice for another hour, but I had to go all too soon. The winter sun was beginning

to set already, and I wanted to be home before dark.

Derrick drove me back to my car.

“How about we meet at your apartment, next time? Now that I know where it is.”

“That's a better idea than meeting at the coffee place.” He gave me a lopsided grin. “Less driving.”

“I know, that's why I suggested it. You remember your homework?”

“I do.” He had to do some visualization techniques while masturbating, as well as go one day without

apologizing. He did that far too much. And he had to read as much as he could. “So, next Saturday?” he

asked me as the coffee shop and my car loomed into view.

Next Saturday. I would be back with my master by then. I didn't respond to Derrick for a moment, as

I pondered the situation. This whole thing was a bad idea and I knew it, but I was curious. I was curious

to see if Derrick could be trained to be a dom as well as I was trained to be a sub, and I was curious

about him as a person. I wanted to experience more. I was being selfish though, and I knew it. I had so

much with my master, and it was greedy of me to go looking for more. And yet I had.

“Krys?” Derrick asked, pulling me out of my introspection.

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Next Saturday.”

And so it began.

*****

I returned to my master on Sunday night, feeling out of sorts. I wanted this, I told myself as I pulled

into his garage and removed my clothing for him. He looked down and smiled at me in approval, and I

felt happiness well inside me at that approval, but it was different now. It was less strong, more muted.

I wanted to be with him.

And yet, I wanted to be with Derrick. He was nothing like my master, but he was new, and exciting. I

got to explore things with him that I never got to explore with my master. I felt like he and I were truly

equals. Mr. Hendricks had always loomed above me, just out of reach, no matter how eagerly and how

quickly I learned. There were some gaps that just couldn't be crossed.

But still, I was the same submissive and eager slave as ever. I did everything for him. I just wanted

to make him happy. I thrived on it.

But I didn't belong to him anymore, not completely. Now, every Saturday, I went and trained Derrick

to be a better dom. It was an interesting experience, to say the least.

When the next Saturday rolled around, I snuck out of the house and made my way back to Derrick's

apartment. He was waiting outside for me.

“Got all your reading done?” I asked.

“Not even close. You gave me a ton of stuff to read through. I got one of the books finished, though.”

“That's good! And how did you do with the apologizing thing?”

He drooped his head goofily. “Not too good. Sorry.”

“It's okay,” I said as I rolled my eyes. He was already apologizing again. “It takes more than one day

to break a bad habit.” I took his arm as we made our way through the door and up the stairs. “So, are you

ready for lesson number two? In bed?”

He widened his eyes at me. “You mean sex?”

“Who said anything about sex?”

His face turned beet red now, and he stammered. “S-sorry! I didn't mean to imply-”

I cut him off with a laugh. “I'm just messing with you. Jeez.” I looked over at him meaningfully.

“We're going to have sex.” I knew it was inevitable already. I even brought some of the toys Mr.

Hendricks used on me. I wasn't certain if we would have sex
today
, but this was a vital part of the training. I took a deep breath. It was just sex. It didn't mean anything.

As we ascended the stairs I walked behind him, appreciating the view. He wasn't built like my

master, but he was still good looking. He had a long, lithe, boyish body, without too many muscles. He

looked so thin, so fragile though.

He led me on to his apartment door, where he fumbled with the key. “Sorry,” he said.

“Don't apologize,” I commented, deciding to start the next lesson now.

“But I-”

“I know. When you make a mistake, apologize. But this isn't a mistake. You just fumbled with your

keys. When you apologize for everything it makes you look weak.” I sighed. “Maybe not weak, but

definitely less dominating. And you want to dominate me, right?”

I saw that flash in his green eyes. It was there, but it was buried under years of trained politeness and

consideration.

“There's a difference between being polite and being a doormat. Don't apologize for everything.”