Don't Be Shy 9 (Patreon)

Kara was watching something with Julia Roberts in it on a sixty inch tv when her phone rang. After four months of not being able to get a callback from so much as a burger place, it came as a surprise. She picked it up and found Lena's name on the caller ID.

She answered. “Did you put your name in my phone?”

“You're an intelligent woman. I wouldn't expect you to pick up for an unlisted number.”

Some ember of church girl zealousness prompted her to confess: “I bought some things and charged them to your room. Only necessities. You wouldn’t want me to wear a little black dress all the time.”

“Not all the time,” Lena said, her voice smoky in its amusement.

Kara felt like Al Capone, indicted on tax fraud. What kind of conscience did she have when anal sex, for money, with another woman—that she wasn’t married to, though that seemed like the least of it—didn’t pang her, but borrowing a little money on credit did?

“Speaking of charges, go to the red cabinet. Open the middle door. There’ll be an envelope on the top shelf. Do you see it?”

Kara went, opened, and saw it. “Yes.”

“Your first day’s earnings. Five thousand dollars. If the charges bother you so much, you can take however much out of that and leave in on the coffee table. Though I’d prefer to find you there.”

Kara opened up the envelope. It was a stuffed envelope, as fat as a John Grisham paperback. Inside was money. Lots of it. Hundreds, then fifties, then twenties. Nothing smaller than a Hamilton.

And there were times when she would’ve begged, borrowed, stole for just a twenty in her wallet… when she’d been getting by on ten dollars and some ones… waiting to use that ten like it would be some terminal diagnosis coming in…

And now her fingers flicked through everything after everything after everything. Kara could use this money on everything. An apartment, a car, clothes, food. She’d never even seen this much money in one place… even cashier jobs didn’t let her keep this much paper money outside the safe… it was hers.

All hers.

Kara felt short of breath.

“Kara? Are you still there?”

Kara snapped to attention. She wasn’t working at some 7-11. Lena wasn’t one manager who could make trouble for her if she didn’t say Sir. She was made of this money.

Kara tried to think of how much she’d have after a week with Lena, after a month with her. The thought was dizzying. She had to force herself away from it. Focus on the now. Focus on Lena.

“Yes, Mistress. I’m here.”

Kara felt a smile drift over the cell phone towers between them. “Eager to please, aren’t you?”

“It seems to work out well for me.”

“I recall,” Lena said, and Kara’s ears burned. She hadn’t meant the… thing that happened, last time, with the fluid, but Lena clearly did and… well… Kara couldn’t very well contradict her. “I have to work late, but my therapist says I should pace myself, so I’m taking a break to talk to you.”

“You have a therapist?”

Lena paused. “Have you looked at me?”

“Okay,” Kara said after a moment. She thought it best to move on, doubting Lena had called her to go over whatever issues she had. “So, is this one of those ‘what are you wearing’ calls?”

“It doesn’t matter that much. Strip.”

“What?”

Kara could picture the raised eyebrow Lena almost certainly wore. “Whatever you’re wearing, I want you to take it off.”

Kara looked around. “Are there cameras around? Are you watching me?”

“Maaaybe,” Lena said with uncharacteristic mischievousness.

It somehow made Kara… clench. Then she realized: I’m being played with.

“Maybe I just like the thought of you doing as you’re told… and I have a very vivid imagination.”

“One sec,” Kara said, setting the phone down. She hoped Lena didn’t expect her to do some kind of bump-and-grind. It felt weird enough stripping down in the middle of the living room.

She picked the phone back up, not wearing a stitch. “Okay. I’m, uh—it’s done.”

“You wouldn’t be telling lies, would you?”

“No, Mistress.”

“Good,” Lena purred. “You sound different when you’re naked. How do you feel?”

Kara wanted to answer ‘naked,’ but that seemed like the kind of thing that would get her punished. And being in need of punishment when Lena wasn’t there to do the deed felt like it would be frustrating for both of them.

“A little cold. Kinda embarrassed.” Kara’s lips swam together in an expression she didn’t know how to characterize. She wouldn’t have made it if Lena were there to see. “Proud of myself. I’ve been treating myself all day. I worked out, I ate healthy… all I need is a new haircut, but I like my hair long.”

“I like it too.” Lena chuckled. “Your idea of treating yourself is to workout and eat a healthy meal. That Protestant work ethic.”

“Pennsylvania Dutch,” Kara said, a little defensively.

“I’m glad you feel good about your body. I like it too. Why don’t you go to the mirror in your bedroom? Look at yourself in it.”

She was referring to the cheval mirror in the Queen Anna style that took up one corner of Kara’s bedroom between the closet and the dresser with the jewelry box on top. Seeing herself approach in the reflection, Kara took the hand that wasn’t holding her phone and held it between her legs.

It wasn’t that she thought she needed a Brazilian. But seeing herself laid out like that, all NC-17, just struck her as… it was a lot, that’s all. Maybe Lena could enjoy it, but Kara saw it and this feedback loop started where she was naked and she saw herself naked and those goosepimples, she saw them, she felt them, they were because she was naked.

“You’re shivering,” Lena noted over the phone. “I can hear your teeth chatter.”

“I told you I feel cold.”

“You said a little cold. Did you mess with the thermostat?”

“No—”

“Then it’s a perfectly reasonable temperature. Do you see yourself in the mirror?”

“Yes.”

“You’re covering yourself, aren’t you?’

“Well, I…”

“What’s the matter? It’s just you in there, isn’t it?”

“You’re going to see me like this, though.”

“I’m going to do a lot more than look at you. Have you looked at yourself from behind?”

Kara colored. She could feel the heat rushing into her cheeks, see the blush rising in her reflection. “I, uhh—”

“Turn around. Look over your shoulder. Tell me what you see.”

Kara obeyed. She turned her head and looked at the supple little slopes of her shoulders… the indentations of her spine like mile markers along all the flowing lines of her lissome back… well-toned muscles indenting the creamy skin… she’d never pass for a bodybuilder, but Lena would definitely feel some firmness there the next time she…

Kara fumbled her phone. She barely managed to catch it before it slipped entirely away. “Sorry, sorry,” she said into it, as if Lena had almost crashed to the floor.

“Don’t apologize. It is a lot to take in. But I’d still like to hear what you see.”

“I don’t know, I have pretty good shoulders. Not too broad and not too… you know, I don’t think I’d need eighties businesswoman shoulder pads.”

“I don’t think so either. What else?”

“I have pretty good lats. They’re not huge or anything, but I do a lot of pulldowns at the gym.”

“And?” her mistress asked leadingly.

“My ass… you know how it is.”

“It’s quite round, isn’t it?”

“Yes… I suppose it is…”

“I wonder how many tight pants you bought today? I can imagine it’s a problem getting them over that… well, substantial amount of flesh. But you must look stunning wearing a pair of jeans that stick to every single gram of that fat ass.”

Kara bit the inside of her cheek. She felt a little bullied and a little like she was being praised and she liked both things.

“It’s muscle,” she insisted. “I work a lot on my glutes… you can have a lot of problems later in life if you don’t work on that muscle group. I do lunges, I do squats…”

“I want you to spread your cheeks,” Lena interrupted. “Look at your asshole and tell if you can tell that I fingerfucked it last night.”

Kara’s cheeks burned. Her eyes darted up to see her face, just to make sure she hadn’t actually burst into flame. And Kara couldn’t believe her own eyes—literally, how her eyes looked in the mirror. She didn’t look as shocked as she felt. She looked more like…

Kara took a handful of her rump in her hand… it really was almost all muscle… and held it to the side. She looked between her cheeks at the once hidden cleft…

“It, uhh… I don’t really keep tracks of how that part of my anatomy looks normally… it definitely looks a little red, a little—”

“Open?” Lena asked teasingly. “Does it look like it’d be easy to… enter?”

Kara’s voice dropped. “You’re not going to make me… do something in there… are you Mistress?”

Lena exhaled breathily. “Let’s put a pin in that for now—don’t worry, not literally—I want you to go to my room now. I have a present for you.”

“Yeah.” Kara turned around again. She covered her breasts with her arm. She turned her hips so that her sex couldn’t be seen in the mirror. “Okay.”

And she stared at her reflection as if to memorize that version of her. Naked, maybe, but not displayed with the same vigor that Lena had forced her to. Or, not forced… Lena hadn’t even been there… she’d cajoled, tempted, made Kara feel more than she wanted to feel… at least she hadn’t actually made Kara do anything with her ass but look at it.

I could be a fashion model, Kara thought, seeing that carefully poised version of herself in the mirror. Naked, but still covered. Hidden. Protected.

All but her eyes. Her eyes looked so hungry. Kara thought she could be fully dressed and she wouldn’t want anyone to see her if she had that look in her eyes.

Kara looked one last time to see if they were gone.

Fuck me, her own returned gaze seemed to say.

Kara looked away.