Love and Language
Love and Language Copyright © 2013 Cheryl Dragon
Also Available from Resplendence Publishing
www.resplendencepublishing.com
Love and Language
A
Masters Wanted
Story
By Cheryl Dragon
Resplendence Publishing, LLC
http://www.resplendencepublishing.com
Copyright © 2013 Cheryl Dragon
Edited by Michele Paulin and CJ Slate
Cover Art by Les Byerley
Published by Resplendence Publishing, LLC
2665 N Atlantic Avenue, #349
Daytona Beach, FL 32118
Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-649-3
Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
Electronic Release: April 2013
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.
Chapter One
With her tax refund in the bank, Jane Wendell sat at her computer and searched for airfare pricing. She had her trip to Europe all planned out. Since her childhood, she’d dreamed of Italy and Greece. The ruins and the mythology would allow her to escape the utter lack of magic in her life.
She’d been imagining the trip for years really, ever since she’d gotten close to paying off her student loans and had begun saving for something fun. At thirty-six-years-old, she finally had the cash for her first real vacation.
Hard work and frugal living were all she knew. Shuffling around with relatives then foster care as a child hadn’t left her with a college fund or anywhere to go. Books had been her escape, and now, she’d actually see part of the world.
Her friends at the university where she taught didn’t understand. They certainly had plenty of time off. Spring break and even summers if, unlike Jane, they didn’t teach that session. She took every opportunity to work because she couldn’t stand debt. Growing up owing everyone for their kindness was hard enough. Racking up frivolous stuff on her credit cards wasn’t an option.
School was still her haven, and while teaching English composition might be dull to some, she could count on it. With tenure and a PhD, her career was secure. There were no excuses anymore for not taking the trip. She held her breath and clicked the button. She’d booked the ticket for her departure flight! No going back now. She grabbed the hotels she wanted then picked the best price for her return flight.
Trembling fingers printed out the information. A week in each country was all she could afford, but she’d pack in everything possible. She could sleep when she got home!
The flush of empowerment and control was contrary to the feelings elicited by the other thing on her
To Do
list tonight. Post a message on the
Masters Wanted
blog seemed simple and harmless. She’d worked up the courage to book her trip, so now was the time to do the other. The difference was that she’d tried playing kinky before. The Masters either went too far or not far enough. One had even said she was too picky about her limits and refused to play with her.
This blog seemed to get it. She didn’t want public exposure—in a small college town she’d be risking too much. BDSM clubs might promise anonymity but running into a student, a parent or anyone who knew about her job meant it could backfire. College kids were impressionable and experimented with life. They didn’t need to know their teacher loved to be tied up and spanked.
All she needed was one Dom who wanted her and respected her. The noise of a club and being on display did nothing for her. “Bedroom Dom” was the phrase the blog used for it. No one there called the subs who wanted that “picky”. Several of the Doms on the site were listed locally, but approaching them online scared her. She knew a local BDSM fetish group held separate meetings nearby for social interaction and kink, but she’d never gotten up the courage to go.
Tonight, her goal was to post. Just a friendly share about what she was looking for, but nothing too specific though she’d be clear about her limits. As she read over what she’d written, it felt a bit dull, but she didn’t exactly have a rock-star life.
So glad I found this blog! I’m a sexual sub, and I don’t need a club or the fancy bells and whistles. A strong relationship with a Bedroom Dom is all I’m interested in. I prefer to run my own life except when it comes to sex. Who knows why we’re wired the way we are, but I love being tied up, teased and spanked. Nothing extreme (blood, fire, breath, non-con play are out). Not a pain slut but no wimp either. I’m hoping the right Dom is out there for this female sub.
If she went into too much detail, someone might trace her back to the college. An English Comp professor should have more of a flair with words, but she couldn’t brag about herself like that. Not here. It was a shot in the dark anyway. Still, some couples had found each other through the blog, so there was a chance.
After proofing her post one last time, she clicked send. It was from a throwaway email address, so if she got creepy replies, she could delete the account. The username she’d picked for the online part of the fetish group and this blog gave away nothing of her real identity. Generally, she just lurked and enjoyed other people’s exploits.
Jane sat up a little straighter. A real vacation, no debt except for a mortgage on her small house not far from the university and she’d dipped her toe into finding a real Dom for life.
It’d been a long time since she’d played. Her fantasies and online surfing had supplied her sub fix, but it wasn’t enough anymore.
Still, Jane refused to get her hopes too high. If the right guy was out there, it could take a lot of time for them to find each other. She had other things to do now. She flipped over to the university’s website to do one more task for her trip. Find a tutor. She didn’t speak Italian or Greek and wanted to get down some of the basics before she left in a few months. The online methods she’d tried had failed to hold her focus. She’d always learned best from an engaging teacher and tried to give that to her students, as well.
On the language department’s page, she posted a simple request for short term Italian and Greek tutors. She knew some of the professors there but didn’t want to put them on the spot to do her a favor. Odds were she’d get some grad students looking for a little extra money.
Her mind stopped on one man in particular, but she half-hoped he didn’t apply for the job. Ben was a PhD candidate who taught intro classes. Though a student in the technical sense, he was also a skilled teacher from what she’d heard. He was on track to get a fulltime post as soon as he completed his degree in a matter of weeks. The man had the skill, no doubt, but he might not be the best tutor for
her
. The way she thought of him made her ashamed, but her dreams refused to stop. He wasn’t even thirty.
Ben for a tutor would make focusing on language a big problem for her. His body was lean and muscled. Despite his youthful face, he had wise blue eyes that promised he wasn’t innocent.
Sometimes, he forgot to shave, and she’d spotted some stubble on his chin. One chilly day, he’d worn a thin shirt under a sport coat, and she swore she saw a piercing in his nipple. Younger men had always aroused her, but this one made her wet with a little smile in her direction. She squirmed in her seat just thinking of him.
Pushing back from the computer, Jane felt a bit like a stalker. It was a fantasy and nothing more! She closed the university website and went back to the
Masters Wanted
blog. No one had responded to her post, but the fact that she’d sent it was the triumph. Maybe, she’d meet someone, but even if she didn’t, she’d tried. Controlling a room of college kids, she could handle, but putting herself out there in a small town was harder.
Closing that website, she went back to the vacation. This she could control and plan carefully. It was all for her. Now that it was real, she could plot out the sightseeing to maximize her time. However, she knew when she closed her eyes tonight she’d be thinking of the young tutor she wanted and not the Leaning Tower of Pisa!
* * * *
Ben Whitbeck cursed the construction outside his office window. Grad students were naturally assigned the crap locations, and he had to share the tiny office. Right now, he should be enjoying the peace from his officemate being on sick leave. The guy was a whiz with exotic languages, but the accompanying cuisine hadn’t agreed with him over spring break.
Even with the office to himself, Ben’s head split with the pounding of jackhammers and the stress of waiting for the next step in his career. He’d turned in his dissertation at the beginning of the term. All that remained was for the college administration to set the date and time for him to defend it.
The department head had assured Ben that the junior linguistics professor position was earmarked for Ben. All he had to do was get that PhD. He was more than ready for the degree and job to be locked in. This cute little New England college town felt like the home he wanted. In the last ten years, he’d spent two abroad. Even when he visited his family at holidays, he wanted to come back here.
When the construction workers began shouting over the jackhammers, Ben shoved away from the desk and went for a walk. It was his light day with just online classes later. He’d finished the necessary grading and needed a distraction.
He walked to the food court and eyed the coffee shop. Caffeine wasn’t what he needed, but before he could pick another destination, Ben spotted Nelson Cannon headed his way. Dr. Cannon from IT was a friend but also a reminder of what Ben really needed. Ben had been avoiding the BDSM fetish group’s functions lately. Nelson liked to play social director and was one of the organizers who ensured safety and compliance at the kinky events.
“Ben, haven’t seen much of you lately,” Nelson said with a grin.
They shook hands, and Ben shrugged, taking a quick look around for anyone in earshot. “I’m waiting to defend my dissertation. My brain isn’t really in play mode.” It was sort of a lie. The release would help his stress, but random play didn’t fit his mood.
“Coffee? I’m buying,” Nelson offered.
“Nah, I’m too wound up as it is.” Ben kept his private life very quiet. Nelson was outside of Ben’s department and safe. The last thing he wanted was for someone in his department to get wind of something that could be a problem. It was easier not to hire him for that permanent position than it would be to fire him.
“Smoothie? Fruit is good for you. It’ll cool you off.” Nelson headed for the counter.
“Thanks. Strawberry.” Ben decided he could use some mindless chatter.
Shortly later, Nelson led the way from the food court, handing Ben his drink. Ben didn’t ask where they were going. If Nelson wanted to chat, he’d also respect Ben’s privacy. By the time they sat in Nelson’s funky office full of computer screens and keyboards, Ben had downed a third of the smoothie and felt better a little better. The creamy and tart mixture was a nice change from the coffee he lived on.
“So you’ve been busy with your nose in the books and teaching. Got your defense all prepped?” Nelson slurped on his smoothie.
“Sure. I just want it over with. So much work for one degree.” Ben waited for the little lecture he knew was coming.
“It’s a big degree. A little play would help you relax. Get your head out of your world and into something fun.” Nelson leaned over and tapped on one of his laptops. The tech guy was surrounded by screens and keyboards.
“How many computers do you have?” Ben asked.
“Don’t ask that sort of thing. You don’t really want to know. Let’s just say it’s a good thing I’m an ethical person because I could make a much better living as a hacker. And stay on topic.” Nelson shook his head. “You haven’t logged onto the group for a month. A lot of new women have posted.”
“We’ve all got to prioritize.” Ben sipped more of his smoothie.
“Now the degree and job are out of your hands, and you’re sitting around worrying. You could be looking for the right submissive. Blowing off steam won’t kill you. You’d probably defend your paper more convincingly with less tension. Even if the relationship doesn’t work out, you can give a sub a good night and feel better about yourself as a Dom.” Nelson smiled.
