The Mistress Files(4)

By: Tiffany Reisz



Sheridan froze.

The Mistress grinned.

“I love that reaction. The ‘now the shit gets real’ reaction. I think it’s my favorite part of the job. That and the money. And the clothes. And all the rich and famous people who are afraid of me because I know their kinks. Okay, I have a lot of favorite parts of this job. Anyway, I just noticed that you still have your clothes on, and I’m fairly certain I gave you an order.”

The Mistress paused and tapped her temple.

“Yes, I’ve reviewed the tapes. It was an order.”

Still Sheridan didn’t move to obey. The Mistress narrowed her eyes at the girl.

“What did you like so much about what Rex did to you?” The Mistress asked. “Tell me in one sentence.”

“He...” Sheridan began. “He was older and in charge and made me feel like I was the center of the universe.”

“Look up.” The Mistress pointed at the roof and Sheridan turned her face to the glass roof. “The night is watching us. Sheridan. You are the center of the universe. And if the center of the universe doesn’t take her clothes off in the next ten seconds, the center of the universe is going to get turned over my knee and spanked like the stubborn, recalcitrant child she is.”

That did it. Sheridan stood up and unzipped the back of her dress and shimmied out of it. It landed like a pool of quicksilver at her feet. She had come prepared, The Mistress noted with pleasure—no panties on and no bra. Only her strappy shoes remained on her feet. She bent to remove them.

“No. Leave the shoes on. Stand there for one hot minute. I’m taking a mental picture.”

Sheridan froze in a perfect pose of modest beauty. With her head turned slightly to the side and her hands lightly clasped in front of her and her face a mask of elegant composure, the thin girl with small breasts transformed into an ancient Greek statue of Aphrodite turned to flesh. The Mistress smiled at her statue. All she’d had to do was order the girl to pose for a photograph and Sheridan turned into the professional actress who commanded six figures per episode.

“You’re stunning. You know that, don’t you?” The Mistress asked.

Sheridan merely shrugged her shoulders.

“I suppose you hear it all the time from fans and casting agents. But I’m not a fan. I’m not a director. I don’t have to suck up to you to get you to spread for me. You’re paying me for the privilege of spreading for me. You paid up front. I have no reason to lie. Say ‘thank you for telling me I’m stunning, Mistress.’”

“Thank you for telling me I’m stunning, Mistress.”

“Good. There’s hope for you yet. Now sit.” The Mistress moved her legs from the settee to the floor and pointed to the crimson cushions. Sheridan sat back down as she kept her legs tightly pressed together. “Stay there.”

The Mistress pulled out her tie and unknotted it.

“I’m going to blindfold you. It’ll help you relax and focus on what you’re feeling. Do you have a safe word?”

“Kingsley told me I should pick one. It’s ‘McCarthy’s.’”

“Like the single malt whiskey?”

Sheridan smiled. “You know your alcohol.”

“Of course I do. I’m Catholic. You like whiskey?”

“Hate it. But Rex liked it. Straight.”

“He sounds Catholic.”

The smile on Sheridan’s face broadened and The Mistress nearly blinked at the brightness. The Mistress could only imagine how this girl could light up a stage.

“I can still remember what his mouth tasted like. I never wanted to drink the stuff. I was happy tasting it on him.”

“McCarthy’s it is then. I want you to be able to tell me yes, no, stop, go while we’re playing. You’ll say ‘McCarthy’s’ if and—only if—you want to stop completely, take off the blindfold and end the scene. I’ll be touching your body and every woman is different. You can give me directions if I’m doing something that doesn’t work for me. You can give me encouragement if I’m doing something that does. Understand?”

“I understand.”

The Mistress glared at the girl so hard she winced.

“I mean, yes, Mistress.”

“Better. Hold still.” The Mistress yanked her silk tie off and pulled it taut. Careful of Sheridan’s perfectly coiffed hair, The Mistress brought the tie over her head, placed it on Sheridan’s blinking eyes and knotted it at the nape of her neck. “Too tight?”

“No...it’s fine. Thank you, Mistress.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t expect...” Sheridan began and paused.

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