My Monster

Chapter 3

It was business as usual at the office. The rest of the week was pretty routine; however lunchtime with Lucy was always far from mundane. A new project had her working in an area of the building that made it impossible for me to casually bump into her in the hall so the first time I'd get a chance to look at her was at lunch. Oh, how I looked forward to lunch. Lucy was a smart dresser, and as I sat in my cubicle moments before lunch, I'd ponder what type of outfit or shoes she'd have on that day.

It was now Friday, and just about lunchtime. Sneaking away from my desk five minutes early was becoming a habit I'd started to take on. It wasn't out of laziness for work, but so that I might get to the lunch room before Lucy. I would check and make sure the sugar was full, the tea bags were ready, and of course her mug and plate were readily available and clean. I had a bit of a shock recently, when I found that the overnight cleaning crew had come in on a particular day, and moved Lucy's tea cup to another cupboard. Frustrated she opened and closed door after door before finding it in an unlikely place, tucked away with the napkins and forks. I could tell the break in the routine bothered her. Of course there was no risk of her being upset with me, because she still never acknowledged just how her plate and cup would be clean for her each day. I suppose she just chocked it up to the housecleaning fairies and thought nothing of it. Her status in our firm probably came with responsibility that didn't have time to clean dishes. Still, I remember feeling quite disappointed that day, that all had not been provided for her in a manner that it should have been. I felt like less of a man somehow because things had not been perfect for her. She commented on my disposition over lunch and asked me about it but I brushed off her question with a bogus answer of not feeling so well. I was almost compelled to stop by her office and apologize because of the misplaced cup. I pondered to myself with wonder, why I was feeling this way and could not come up with an answer. All I knew is that somehow, on an emotional level, I felt better when things were perfect for Lucy, and vowed to make sure, at the very least, that her lunch would be pleasurable with me, and as close to perfect as I could make it, without her knowing what I was up to.

In the lunchroom I checked to see all was in place and settled down at the table. Like a fire alarm in my ears, the distant click, clack of Lucy's heels could be heard and goose-bumps appeared as the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. I set my lunch out on the table, pretending to myself that the noise I was hearing was not exciting and that my shaking hands were still and calm as an August evening. The warning of Lucy's approach got louder and by now, I'd even memorized the meter and timing at which they struck the ground. The sound produced a distinct signature, that if blindfolded in a room of a hundred women, I now could pick Lucy's out instantly. When she rounded the corner, in an almost slow motion, I smiled at her beautiful face, only long enough to be polite, before my eyes would feast upon her gorgeous heels. Today, they were simple in style but carried the weight only a fetishist like me could appreciate. A wide band of black leather crossed her perfectly manicured toes, her high arch reaching to the top of the heel, where a single buckled wide strap encircled her ankle.

It warmed my heart to see Lucy calmly take her plate and cup from the expected spot in the cupboard. I also spent little time noticing that Lucy had forgotten a napkin, to which I hastily grabbed one and placed it in the desired spot on the table. The thought did occur to me that she'd forgotten it on purpose, but then my submissive brain has been guilty in the past of making hopeful expectations. There was never an utterance of a thank you either, but then again, one was never expected, I was happy to do it.

We chatted like always and before lunch was over Lucy mentioned that she was taking the next week off to take a course. When I asked what kind of course she only said something that was mandatory, but would help her as a career woman. Then as quickly as lunch started, it was over, and she was gone. As the sound of Lucy's heels trailed off, I tended to the dishes in an almost relaxed state, taking my time, knowing that I'd not be able to do it for the next week, which made me a little sad. I masturbated furiously in the company bathroom with the thought of Lucy fresh in my mind.

Friday night, I'd planned on relaxing and doing very little. I stopped on the way home, at this little Italian store to pick up some things; I was in the mood to cook. Dropping the bags on the counter with my keys, I checked my messages and flipped on my computer to check for emails as well. I changed into a pair of boxer briefs and a loose t-shirt, perfect attire for feeling comfortable and getting messy. I'd decided on making some pasta from scratch, complete with simmered sausages and home made sauce. The grilled chicken Caesar salad that accompanied it was pre-made, so I guess I cheated a little. I flipped on some appropriate music; I was in the mood for a strong commanding voice. I sang along with Sinatra as I worked the dough into the counter. Something about this music puts me in a good mood. Andrea Boccelli followed, and then this young fellow by the name of Josh Grobin. Amazing voice he has, the kind that gives you goosebumps as he hits the high notes. Look out Pavarotti, this young punk is on your heels.

Finally, about two hours after I'd walked in the door, dinner was ready. Placing my dish on the table I fidgeted with a few crumbs that were on the tablecloth, before lining up the plate perfectly with the edge of the table. I polished my silverware with a napkin before putting them in perfect line with my plate, poured a glass of Merlot, and enjoyed my efforts. This is just what I needed. After a fast paced week at work, eating out of brown paper bags and take out in the evening, it was nice to have a wholesome meal. I even finished off the dinner with a cup of espresso.

Leaning back in my chair, the sauce on my plate wiped clean, I stared over the table at my empty apartment. I pondered what I was going to do with my life, what it was I desired that would make me a happy man. Marriage, kids, moving back home; they all were subjects that rolled around in my mind. I rolled my espresso cup back and forth between my fingers, taking notice of a spot of coffee that had dried on the side of it. Taking a napkin I meticulously wiped it clean, paused, and thought of Lucy. My desire to submit to a worthy dominant woman was within me, almost like a hungry monster that didn't sleep. How on earth was I going to feed it?

"You've got mail!" the computer announced, and broke me out of my deep thought. Grabbing my half glass of remaining wine, I left the mess in the kitchen and sat at the computer. I was sure it was an email from my Mother, complete with the typical nagging of making sure I was eating right, wearing warm clothes, and pestering me to call her like a good son should.

The email, to my surprise, was from Kelvin and anne, my kinky munch friends. It was an invitation to come to their place for dinner on Saturday night. What a wonderful gesture I thought to myself. I really did enjoy their company, and it seemed like seeing them only once a month at munches was far too long and way too brief. The invite was perfect, because I'd not made any plans for Saturday. Who was I kidding; I never have plans on Saturday. I rifled off a reply saying I was delighted, thanked them, and was looking forward to tomorrow.

I spent the rest of the evening surfing smut on the net. Like munches, the net was my library for figuring out what this monster inside me was, and again, was probably saving me hundreds of dollars in therapy. The internet has an overabundance of information about D/s, everything from grown men wearing diapers and sucking their thumb, to women claiming to be witches and masters of the dark arts. Still, where else is it possible to find so many varying definitions of kink. It's a wonderful place, where an open mind will definitely help it make more sense. As I flipped through page after page of fetishes and kinkiness, I clicked on a video link that had this poor submissive man, kneeling naked in front of this thigh-high boot wearing, whip wielding Domme. His ass striped like a candy cane with welts and red lashes.

"Clean that filth off of my boot with your tongue", she shouted while pointing at her foot,

"You're not worthy of the dirt I'm feeding you, you worthless piece of trash!" she yelled at him.

Dynamic such as this bothered me, in fact I questioned if it was dynamic at all because it appears so one sided. Being called worthless or a piece of trash, contradicts the submissive feelings I have inside. I want my Domme to be proud of me, to the point where even showing me off to other Dommes would bring munch envy. Making her happy at the end of the day is my trophy for a job well done. How any man could revel and wallow in such degradation, and feel happy at all perplexes me. Perhaps there's something there I just don't understand. Yes it's important to keep an open mind indeed. I turned off the computer, and cleaned the kitchen before heading to bed.

Saturday I filled with some shopping and some time for a much needed haircut. I visited the liquor store and picked out a nice bottle of wine to take with me to Kelvin and anne's. Kelvin was born in Scotland, so as an added thought, I also picked out a nice single malt scotch as well.

Kelvin and anne lived just outside of town, in a very nice house that Kelvin had built. His original idea was to build and sell it, but anne had fallen in love with the place and begged not to leave. Tonight would be the first time I'd visited with them outside of munches, and the first time I'd seen their home. With bottles in hand, a new haircut, and some new clothes, I climbed the steps to the large door in front and rang the bell. When the door opened, anne greeted me in a knee length leather skirt, a very pretty blouse and a cute pair of black mules. Of course, Kelvin's metal collar was firmly locked around her neck. Anne's collar was beautiful and was custom made. Amongst the many different colours of brushed metal that it contained, and the lovely designs throughout, on either side of the small lions head holding a ring in his mouth, was Kelvin's initials. The piece was so delicate, that it caught the attention of many, and without trying to explain the whole lifestyle to everyone who had stopped her to see it, people would assume it was some sort of high fashion piece. Something you might see a model trod down the runway with in Paris. Only a kinky eye would see that the ring in the lion's mouth was fully functional, as was the tiny lock that kept it hasped around her neck.

"Alex how wonderful," she said, "come in, I'm glad you made it."

"Thank you very much anne, and thank you for having me."

Taking the bottles from my hand, anne yelled,

"Master, Alex has arrived."

Master… what a nice touch. I don't recall her ever using it at munches, it could very well be it was protocol that was reserved for home, so that it wouldn't become habit, and slip out amongst the vanilla crowd.

"Alex I'm glad you could come" Kelvin said with an outstretched hand.

The smell of dinner filled my nostrils as anne minced around the kitchen getting everything ready. Her heels clacked away on the ceramic tile, as Kelvin and I sat at the table making small talk. Taking the bottles from the brown bags I had brought, anne set them on the table.

"Single malt! Well, a very nice gesture Alex thank you. Let's enjoy a glass together" he said.

Anne took the cue right away and hustled to get two low ball glasses with some fresh ice cubes. As I sat there, I couldn't help but feel guilty, that anne was doing all the work and I was just sitting there enjoying the fruits of her labour. If it weren't for seeming impolite to Kelvin, I would have joined her and asked how I might help. Sipping his scotch in approval, Kelvin got up from the table and invited me to join him. He took me on a tour of the house, explaining all the intricate details of its architecture and building techniques. I nodded my head with interest as he spoke, convincing him that I had any idea what he was talking about. It was a beautiful home and I saw right away why anne was in love with it. It was just on the edge of town, close enough that everything you needed was a fifteen minute drive away, but far enough to escape the noise and bustle of the big city, with neighbouring houses not even within sight.

To finish the tour, Kelvin led me to the basement, again pointing out some intricacies, but this time the details he pointed out had a kinky flair to them. One storage room was full of BDSM dungeon equipment, tucked away so that it could be pulled out at a moments notice. The largest room he showed me was somewhat unfinished, but unlike many recreation rooms found in many homes, this one had some subtle differences. Stretching across the length of the room was a huge I-beam made of steel. Something you'd see in a commercial building that perhaps would be holding up many thousands of pounds of weight. In a house such as this, it seemed like a bit of overkill. It was then, that Kelvin pointed out the carefully placed eye hooks that cleverly dotted its length.

"Slave suspension is something not too many a builder keeps in mind I'm sure", he grinned

This tour, I smiled and thought to myself, was probably one that not many people got, with so much detail. I couldn't imagine what it would be like, to be in a relationship such as theirs, and have the sinfully delightful toys and private space like this, at your reach and available at anytime the mood strikes you.

"Master, dinner is almost ready!" anne shouted from the top of the stairs.

"Shall we?" he motioned with his arms to return to the dining room.

It hadn't seemed like we were gone for very long, but when I entered the dining room, the room we previously were in enjoying our scotch, it amazed me to see the transformation that had taken place. The table was completely set, and looked like it was about to receive royalty by the amount of detail and attention anne had paid to it. At the head of the table was Kelvin's place setting, cutlery and glasses set out in perfect order and place. Accompanying his place was two other settings reserved for ann and I on either side. The wine bottle had been uncorked, and the food was also on the table, strategically placed so that without stretch or lean, the head of the table would have first priority at the served wares. Standing behind her Master's chair, she pulled it out and waited for him to sit down. I stood frozen watching the protocol that was taking place, right before me. Quickly, anne then minced over to me and performed the same ritual, and I thanked her for the polite gesture.

Kelvin filled his plate, explaining to me what each item was. Some of it was familiar to me and some of it was not, as tonight's dinner had taken on a Scottish theme. As he piled food on his plate, he also served some to me as well. It occurred to me, that he had not even asked me which foods I'd not like, nor was he concerned with the quantity of which I'd desire. Not wanting to be rude, I just accepted it, and quietly thought to myself that I'd better eat it all, so as to not offend. As he did with me, he also served anne, but with far less portions than he had served me. In fact, anne's plate contained less than half of the food I had. Silently she graciously accepted it, and thanked him.

By this time I started in on a few things on my plate, hungry and anxious to try it. Anne on the other hand started serving the wine. When she was done, she placed the bottle back on its desired spot on the table, folded her hands neatly in her lap, and with a downward gaze, watched as her Master began to eat. It wasn't until he chewed a few bites, savoured her efforts, and nodded to her, that she reached for her fork. I mentally took note, and felt a little foolish for being so eager. Apparently I have very much to learn, and watching anne closely would teach me greatly.

Over dinner conversation was light, and protocol almost slipped away to the point of being unnoticeable. With the help of the wine and scotch, I was feeling very relaxed and comfortable in their company. When dinner was over, I almost had to fight with anne to let me help her clear the table. I wouldn't take no for an answer, guest or not, submissive or not, it was how my Mother raised me.

Sitting back down to some dessert and coffee with a dabble of Irish Cream, Kelvin and anne commented about the last munch. They said they quite enjoyed the little bit of dynamic that was happening at the table between Karen and I. They also asked me what I thought of Karen. I explained that Karen was a real nice person, and that I really enjoyed her company. I told them that I didn't want to assume too much about Karen, because honestly I didn't really know her all that well. I did tell Kelvin and anne that I thought it was peculiar Karen was engaged to be married, but was dabbling in the lifestyle as well. When they asked me if I would be interested in perusing a "play partner" type of relationship her, I almost felt like they were acting on Karen's behalf.

"Well Karen did approach us," said anne,"and asked us what we knew about you, but she just left it at that."

"I hope you said good things!" I laughed.

So to give Kelvin and anne a better picture of myself, I tried to explain to them what kind of submissive I was, and what kind of Domme I thought would be most compatible with me on an emotional level. The truth was though that I was relatively new to all of this. Just what type of qualities this "compatible Domme" I had in mind would have, just may change over time as I learn about how submission fits into my life. With nodding heads, they agreed with me, especially since the both of them had been through previous D/s relationships that didn't work out. I guess I never ruled Karen out, but there were some red flags about her that made me a bit uncomfortable.

We enjoyed each other's conversation well in to the late evening. Thanking them both very much, it was time for me to leave. Exchanging goodbyes, they both indicated that they'd love to do this again sometime, and I was more than happy to oblige. I really enjoyed my relationship with them, and was glad I was welcome in their home.