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Shh...On Our Command

Shh...On Our Command

BillieJo Priestley

Last update: 1970-01-01

Chapter 1

  • Falling back, I shake my head, a laugh escaping my lips as my eyes roll. Just another day of the same shit, really. My mind replays the events of today, and it is just a repeat of yesterday. Moving, I kick off my shoes and sit up, my eyes falling on the laptop.
  • "Hey."
  • Turning I smile at Clyde as he stands at the door. "Hi, good day?"
  • He walks in laughing, shaking his head. "As good as can be, so tonight?" His smile grows as he becomes hopeful.
  • "No, don't really feel like it." I shrug my shoulders. This deal works for him but leaves me feeling frustrated and bored. To start with, it was fun; now though it isn't. Clyde looks at me waiting - he thinks I am joking? I laugh slightly. "Honestly, Clyde, me and sex tonight isn't happening. Sorry." Nodding, he walks out.
  • The arrangement works. My eyes roll at my own thoughts. It doesn't work. We are busy. We finish work and come home, friends with benefits, although the arrangement only seems to benefit him these days. Sex has just become part of my daily routine with him. Nothing fun or different, and it is boring, but I can't say that.
  • "We could go out for a drink instead if you want?" Turning, I look at Clyde. He isn't getting the hint. I feel slightly annoyed.
  • "Clyde, no. Not tonight, and to be honest, no offence, but the sex is getting boring." My words are soft as I try smiling at him. Why did I say that? "It isn't your fault Clyde, it's me." He nods, walking away. It is me. Sex can be amazing, but most of the time, it isn't. Tapping on the laptop, I open it, boredom apparent on my face as I scroll through one social media website after another.
  • Hitting the search on the website, I type in ‘sex’ and search, slowly looking through groups. My eyes stopping on one, clicking ‘join’, I wait. Boredom isn't good, clearly. I laugh at myself. I just joined a group about sex? Instantly, the laptop pings telling me I have been accepted into the group.
  • Scrolling through, I look at the posts, the announcements and everything else. My eyes stopping on one. ‘Meet and greet, ask questions on my command date’. I look at it, confused. There is nothing else about it. Nothing to say what the ‘meet and greet’ is for or about. I glance at the clock. It starts in an hour. Clicking the name, I send a message asking if there is space.
  • Sitting, I wait; ten minutes later a message appears.
  • It's one-to-one, slots are between 6pm and 11pm, every hour - what time would you like? Not six as that is gone.
  • I glance at the message confused, ‘one-to-one’? Hitting reply, I say eleven; afterwards, I shake my head - why did I say eleven? Why not seven or eight? Why didn't I even ask what it is for? Laughing, I shake my head.
  • My eyes glance down, seeing the reply.
  • Great, here is the address, see you at eleven. You don't need to bring anything, just an open mind and willingness to change your sex life.
  • I read the message over and over. This could be some crazy serial killer. Clicking on the group, I scroll through the posts. He talks to people a lot. There is no picture on his account? A lot of people thanking him for the advice? Maybe he is okay?
  • Walking around, I begin to get ready, unsure of why I am putting effort in. It is a one-to-one, not a date. Sitting, I glance through the group again, yet there is nothing. Maybe I am missing where the information is on what this is about? I glance through others’ profiles, trying to see if there is anything on them that helps.
  • "You out tonight?"
  • Turning, I look at Clyde.
  • "Yeah, just with some friends from work, that is all." Why did I lie? It is Clyde. We aren't dating or anything like that.
  • "Anywhere good?"
  • I look at him, my head shaking. I know where he is going with this, and it won't work.
  • "One of their houses to celebrate her engagement. So private party sort of thing." I smile at him, watching as he turns to leave, then stops.
  • "You realise it is past nine, right? What time was this party starting?" Clyde stands looking at me like he senses I am lying, maybe because I am lying?
  • "Okay, so I am not meeting work friends or going to a private party. I am going to a one-to-one for something personal." I smile at him. Lying clearly wasn't working.
  • "You mean you're going out with a random guy for sex?" I stare at him shocked.
  • "Just because we fuck every now and then, Clyde, that doesn't mean you have rights to ask about my sex life or any portion of my life. And no, I am not going out with a random guy for sex or anything relating to sex." Okay, that is a lie, it was a sex group, but it is still a one-to-one meet and greet. So nothing sexual.
  • "Okay, enjoy your night."
  • I watch as he walks out; getting myself sorted, I grab my things. I leave, deciding I should sit in the bar for a bit beforehand to avoid Clyde. It was fun, but now it is boring, and boring doesn't draw me in. Sitting, I watch the time pass before leaving the bar and walking to the address.
  • Standing outside, I glance at the building; I walk to the door and press the button. The melody of the bell sounding around the house escapes into my ears. I watch as the door opens, my eyes glancing at the man. Say something, anything, Daniella speak! I feel my eyes roll at myself, his eyebrow raising as he chuckles slightly.
  • "I think I have the wrong house." What? I shake my head. Why the hell did I say that?
  • "Daniella? You have the right place. Come in." I feel my head nod as my body involuntary walks inside, my eyes on him. Why is he so damn hot? If he was my housemate and friends with benefit and not Clyde, I would never get bored.
  • "Come sit. Can I get you a drink?"
  • I feel my head shake as I sit on the small leather chair.
  • "I'm sorry, I am not even sure why I am here?" I look at him. Why did I come here? I feel my eyes roll at myself - I act on impulse, and that needs to stop. I watch his eyes widen as my eyes roll. What did I do?
  • "The group that you joined? If you remember much about it, then you may understand why you're here. What did you search to find it and why?" He looks at me waiting. Great, so now I need to tell him I am bored of the guy I fuck, so I searched ‘sex’?
  • My mind thinks back; what was the group called? It didn't even have sex in the name. "The group was called 'On My Command Kitten', I can't remember much. It didn't really give much away for what it was about. As for what I searched and why, well, I was bored; bored of life, that day, sex with myself and sex with my friend and thought I would search sex, then I was in the group." He looks at me amused.
  • "You shouldn't have got in the group."
  • I look at him confused, but I did?
  • "Wait, how did you know I searched something to find it?" Surely he can't know that?
  • "Most people in that group come from having someone personally refer them. They invite them to the group. Some search the name and put in the box who referred them. After booking you in, I checked, and there was no name. So I am guessing no one from the group introduced you to it?" He looks at me. I want to lie and say yes, but if he asks who, I am screwed. "The only reason I am pointing this out is that had you been referred, you would have known exactly what this session is about. Usually, people only get accepted if they were referred."
  • I nod, standing up. "Then I shall go, sorry for breaking your rules." I roll my eyes and begin turning, his hand stopping me.
  • "Sit." He looks at me. Nodding, I sit. Why? Why the hell did I just sit like a dog? I stare at him, my hands rubbing across my face in frustration. I watch as he pulls a stool in front of me and sits on it, facing me. My eyes glance into his - there is something about his eyes. Most people have forest green or jade eyes. His eyes are emerald green. My eyes stay looking into his, mesmerised. Maybe they are contacts? "Ahm." My head snaps up. Hell, I was staring and likely drooling.
  • "Sorry, should I just go?" What the hell is going on?
  • "I will explain to you the concept, then you can decide. On my command kitten: I run a small side business; not really a business as I don't earn from it, but I run it to help women. In many ways, but one specifically, to help them achieve orgasms." I laugh slightly.
  • "So what, you're a male prostitute?" He must be.
  • I watch him laugh as his head shakes. "No, I don't sexually touch any women who come here. Or that I meet, at all."
  • "So, how? Sorry but you're a guy, and most women don't even know how to achieve an orgasm, so how can you help without touching?" I shake my head. It isn't possible.
  • "Tell me something. When was your last orgasm, and how powerful was it?" I stare at him shocked, his eyes looking at me, telling me he is waiting for an answer. "Answer." He looks at me, his word almost a command.
  • "Months ago, and not that powerful." I should have lied. Why didn't I lie?
  • "Okay, and what have you done to try to improve that? To have more orgasms and them be better and more powerful?"
  • Laughing, I shake my head. "I fucked my housemate, friend, whatever you want to call him, over and over." I silently scream to myself, this impulse thing really is screwing me over right now.
  • "Clearly didn't help. Relax. Seriously, like you could orgasm being that tense anyway." I stare at him shocked, what the hell? He laughs, looking at my shocked look. "Look, I can see your body is tense. You're behaving as though you're trying to hold back. Why?"
  • "Because I have no filter and act on impulse, then afterwards I regret what I have said - like all that before. I should have lied. Common sense thing to do was lie and pretend sex was great, but no, I didn't. So yes, I am tense because I am trying to tell myself to think before my mouth opens."
  • "What if I said that impulse is good? Maybe not when it comes to thinking before you speak, but impulse in a sense that pushes you to orgasm."
  • I glance at him, confused.
  • "I help women understand the concept behind orgasms, mostly though they don't want to know the terminology and how it works. They want to know how to orgasm on command. At the word of her partner, with a certain touch, or just by herself without even touching herself sexually."
  • I laugh, my body shaking as I do. He is crazy. I can't stop myself, my laughing getting louder as he simply sits and looks at me, not amused.
  • "Sure, you want me to believe a woman can orgasm without sexually touching herself? Are you crazy? How much do you charge for this amazing service? Or, it's free. I now understand why." Shit. I look at him. There goes my filter again. "Sorry, but that isn't possible." That should have been my first answer. I shake my head. Nerves don't help, and right now, I am nervous.
  • As he walks through to another room, I watch, my head leaning to the side, unable to see him. "Come here!" I hear him call. Standing, I walk through, my head shaking. Why did I do that?
  • "Take a look." He turns the laptop to face me, my eyes scanning through the messages. These are real women thanking him for his help? For training them to do it? I look at him confused.
  • "Most women struggle to achieve an orgasm. Some believe it is just something that some women can't do. Some women believe it can only be achieved one way for themselves. You hear women all the time saying it. I can only orgasm through clit stimulation. It's not true. You can program your mind to orgasm on command, meaning, no more needing that one particular act to reach an orgasm."
  • I nod. Maybe he isn't lying?
  • "So how? Why though? Why would someone want to orgasm on command?" It makes no sense.
  • "For some, they live a lifestyle, where they have a dominant. That dominant wants to be able to click their fingers and their submissive orgasms. For others, it is for themselves. If they are single and can't orgasm easily, it is a way to help them." I nod, unsure of what to say next.
  • "What do you do, Daniella? For work?"
  • "Accountant for a local firm."
  • His head tilts, his brow raises slightly as he looks at me.
  • "That all? You don't seem like someone who would be happy just with that." I glance at him confused, my head nodding. "So just the accountant job? There is nothing you do on a night, even if just once a week?" I stare at him, he laughs slightly at my surprise.
  • "How do you know?" No one knows, so how does he know?
  • "You see, I work closely with Club Grande, so while you do an amazing job hiding your identity, as clearly your family and friends have not noticed, I recognised you instantly from this performance. I was there that night."
  • I watch as he turns the phone to me, my eyes widening. Okay, that is me, and I can't deny it.
  • "So, I work in a strip club - and? What has that got to do with it? Actually, why the hell am I still here? I should have left ages ago. Why haven't I walked out yet?" Standing up, I walk to the door. He follows silently, standing against the wall, slightly amused by my outburst.
  • "You will be back."
  • I shake my head at him. This is all a game.
  • "No, I won't. I know what you are doing. You do all this." My hands wave about. "Show women your big house, tell her it is free advice, and blah, blah, blah… then you try to get her into bed, when? Tomorrow, next week? How many of these one-to-ones do you do before trying to sleep with them?" Turning, I walk out, not waiting to hear his reply.