How to Discipline Your Vampire(15)
“Fuhhh,” I muttered, mouth full of nuclear-hot Swiss and mozzarella. I ran to the barrel and spit out the offending mouthful.
Paul snickered while hovering over the microwave, heating his Chunky soup. Chunky like his ass—gross.
Quickly, I began to swirl some water around in my mouth. The burning subsided and my mouth was left relatively unharmed, aside from the pizza burn. You know, that little flap of burnt skin you get right behind your front teeth when you eat something too hot. I resisted the urge to use my long acrylic fingernails to peel it right off.
I headed into the bathroom to inspect the damage to my eye area from the cheesesplosion . . . ugh. Redness. There was a small streak from my lower eyelid halfway down my cheek—evidence of the dairy attack on my face. The last thing I needed was to look injured in front of a vampire, I giggled to myself. I couldn’t wait for our scene.
Luckily, there was a quick reply e-mail from my dear Chilly Willy that made me wish for another five minutes to my lunch break . . . so I could be alone . . . in the math office . . . just reading it over and over.
From: William Gentry
Subject: Re: Scene One: Atonement
Date: May 3, 2012
To: Cerise Norrel
Dear Mistress Cherry, (May I call you this already?)
I am sorry my first e-mail wasn’t to your liking. This is a road we will travel together for a while, I hope, and I’m glad you gave me feedback so soon. From now on, I will make sure my e-mails are more titillating. Additionally, I have read and memorized your spreadsheet. The days that come will be filled with untold pleasures, I assure you.
I had difficulty selecting your outfit today, since our scenario is less costume-driven and more plot-oriented. So, what I did was imagine your beautiful body. Then, I asked myself, what could possibly cover such a lovely form that would do it proper justice? I didn’t want to select something overtly sexual—that would be too cliché, but I also wanted a chance to see my Domme in something befitting of her position over me. And hopefully under me, eventually, should you permit, Mistress. I went to La Perla and, with a basic idea in mind of what I wanted, shopped for you. I thought of your beautiful tan skin tone, and which colors would bring out your lovely blush best. The color is ingrained in my mind. I was torn between pale green silk that reminded me of your eyes, and a lovely midnight navy that would offset your coloring nicely. I bought both sets.
I spent the entire ride home imagining how glorious you would look in my purchases. In all my years on this earth, I have never seen someone as beautiful as you. I hope I am worthy of the kind of worship I will lavish you with. I simply cannot wait for you to do with me what you will. Have you thought of what you would like to do? I’m sure you have plenty of plans for me.
I live to serve, and count the moments until I hear your footsteps through the front door.
I will be, as you have asked, in your bedroom, clad in black.
Servile to only you,
William
My mouth was watering. The last few potentials hadn’t worked out this well from the start—their scenarios were unoriginal or totally awkward, and none of them had a way with words.
I could paraphrase my last sub, Frank, with his first “original scene” e-mail to me.
“U r 2 pretty 4 a guy liek me, so I cant wate for u to smack me around. Well pretend were from the old west and your an indian and im your cowboy lover, only not like those gay guys.”
I was surprised I let him lay a hand on me after that grammatical vomit, but he had a really nice ass. And yes, I did smack him around a little, since that was dictated in the scene. I gave him one more chance, and the next week when his e-mail said, “ok ur a doctor and ima football player with a groin injury,” I was out.