The road before her was clear, the finish line almost close enough to touch. She floored the accelerator, the vehicle kicking up clouds of dirt and grit that blinded whatever drivers were still on her tail. She could almost taste sweet victory.

Suddenly, everything went still. Dust particles hung in the air. An eerie silence came over her. A small round object was beginning to emerge from the cloud behind her, but it was still indistinct, still rendering.

Rachel began to sweat. Not now, when she was so close…

As she sat frozen, the object shot forward one staccato frame at a time, matching the pounding of her heart. As it neared, she could finally see what it was.

A blue shell, covered in spikes.

“No, no, no, no—“

The shell exploded, throwing her kart in the air with a bang as her competitors roared past her. First place. Second. Third.

She threw the controller on the floor.

“Fucking lag! Piece of shit! Fuck! Fuck!”

Two seconds. If it had waited another two fucking seconds to freeze up, she would have won. So much for fucking top-of-the-line hardware.

Pain lanced out from Rachel’s collarbone. She’d almost forgotten. The ink was still fresh, the spot still sore. Her plan had been to get a Norse raven tattooed on either side of her clavicle – Hunin and Mugin, they were called – but she'd only been allowed the one. Now she had Memory but no Thought.

The universe was sending her a message, she was sure, but she couldn’t figure out what it was.

The game forgotten, she let out a few more halfhearted curses and rubbed at the injury. Maybe she should grab a book instead, or better yet try to take a nap. It wasn’t as if she had anything else to do. She was getting worked up, and that never ended well for her. Especially when—

The sound of footsteps echoed from the stairwell outside her room, and she bolted upright. It couldn’t be him, not yet. He wasn’t supposed to be home until the weekend. It was only… wait, what day was it?

He drew closer, and Rachel silently prayed that he hadn’t been listening to her rant. Her Master didn’t allow her to use that kind of language, nor did he have much patience for excuses. An unwelcome memory came to mind, the taste of his soap clamped between her teeth, bubbles dripping down her chin as he lectured her on how a young lady should behave. It was an experience she was in no hurry to repeat.

She quickly assumed the familiar position – kneeling on the carpet, legs together, head bowed, hands clasped behind her. Master was very specific in his demands, and it had taken weeks of drills before she’d been able to keep and hold the pose to his satisfaction. Maybe if she was lucky, he’d be so impressed with her obedience that he’d let her off the hook for swearing.

Her Master entered the room. The week away had taken a toll on him – he was in need of a shave, and there were circles under his dark eyes. Rachel felt an urge to straighten his messy white hair, but swallowed it. He really couldn’t take care of himself without her, could he? He saw her supplication and grinned.

“Missed me, did you?”

She nodded, and he stroked her chin. Yes, she’d missed his touch. And she’d been so bored without him, all alone in his big house. But what else would she have done? Her closest friends, as they were, hadn’t spoken to her in nearly a year. Her family, even longer. She’d changed her whole life for him, and in turn, he had become her whole world.

Master lifted her loose-fitting T-shirt and picked at the peeling skin beneath.

“It looks like it’s coming in nicely.”

“Yes, Master,” she replied with a wince. He hadn’t made any mention of her shouting. Her Master wasn’t a young man – it was possible that he hadn’t heard her.

Raising his hand to her neck, he paused and stroked her collar. Rachel blushed, feeling his body heat through the strip of leather and stainless steel that wrapped around her throat. It was the most precious piece of jewelry she had, more than any of her rings or piercings, its weight warm and familiar.

He let the shirt fall back, and she winced as the cloth settled back over her wound.

“I brought you something.”

She let her jaw relax. A gift? She’d assumed that he would be expecting something from her.

“Master?”

“Not yet. First, you need to change into something more appropriate. Be quick about it, we have a guest waiting downstairs.” He began to unbutton his sleeves. “Oh, and my pet?”

She gulped. “Yes, Master?”

“From the back of the closet, if you would.”

***

In her life before, Rachel had embraced the aesthetic of the ‘mall Goth’. Black clothes, band tees, chains and rings – if she could afford it, she’d add it piece by piece to her collection until she looked like a five-foot-tall hybrid of vampire and hermit crab.

But her Master had broader tastes as well as deeper pockets.

Real leather. Straps and buckles that fit her short and stocky figure. Belts and bracelets so loaded with spikes and studs that putting them on felt like lifting weights. Jackets that made her look tough, dresses that made her look dainty. And then there was the really cool stuff.

She didn’t want to leave Master waiting, but there weren’t a lot of opportunities for her to make an impression. A corset was a must – she had them in almost every colour of the rainbow, and the black one with yellow piping brought out the blond highlights in her close-cropped hair.  She paired it with a vinyl miniskirt that creaked and fluttered with every move of her hips, and thigh-high boots dotted with more rivets than a battleship.

Master watched from the base of the stairs as she came down. He didn’t mention anything about her choice of attire. The hungry look in his eyes said it all.

He pointed. “She’s in the living room.”

Rachel still didn’t know what this was about. Master was not generous with his gifts – as he liked to say, favours had to be earned, and she’d bought everything in her closet with a hundred little acts of service from shining her Master’s shoes to sucking his dick. But if he’d taken the effort to get her something on the way home from the airport without expecting anything in return, she would do her best to deserve his generosity.

A woman in a gold dress sat on her Master’s couch, a glass of wine at her lips, and Rachel’s breath caught in her throat. Their visitor was gorgeous – fine black tresses spilling over her shoulders, delicate fingers wrapped around the glass. She had a nose that Rachel had heard described as ‘aquiline’, and emphasized her sharp features. But it was her eyes, blue and heavily lidded, that caught Rachel’s, and they looked upon her with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“Zdravo,” said the woman, and extended her free hand.

Rachel wished she’d put on some makeup along with her clothes. Before she could retreat, she felt Master’s hand on her back.

“Tatjana, this is my submissive, Rachel. Rachel, Tatjana. What do you think about your gift?”

She had to think. “She seems lovely, of course, but—“

“But?” he asked. There was an edge to his voice.

“Master, what is she here for?”

He blinked, and a smile settled across his face. “Well, my dear, before I left we talked about how you wanted to explore your bisexuality, and how never got any further than some drunken fooling-around with your former roommate. Don’t you remember?”

Rachel blushed. She remembered the conversation, yes, but she didn’t know why Master would be bringing it up in front of a stranger—

—and then she did.

“You mean, right now?” she whispered.

“No time like the present,” Master replied. “Tatjana’s already on the clock, and I’ll gladly take her if you won’t.”

He gave her a gentle push, and Rachel tottered over to the golden woman before her. Up close, she was even more beautiful, with not a hair out of place. She smelled of cinnamon and chai. Rachel struggled to even talk to her.

“You are adorable, mackica,” said Tatjana, her accent warm and thick. She extended a hand to Rachel’s temple, long nails running through the younger woman’s short hair. “But why do you tremble like this? Tatjana will not bite.”

Rachel shivered. “Even if I want you to?”

Tatjana chuckled and set down her glass. “Maybe just for you, mackica. So, you want to taste my pussy, da? Maybe I taste yours first?”

“No, I… I’ll start.”

Rachel dropped slowly again to her knees, legs shaking. She saw Master out of the corner of her eye, taking a seat on the opposite chair. Wanting to see how much she appreciated his gift, she imagined.

Tatjana lifted her dress and uncrossed her legs. Rachel had never seen a pubic wax before, and felt a twinge of guilt that she hadn’t shaved herself since before Master had left on his trip. Waxing looked so painful, but what was left was unnaturally smooth.

She leaned forward and kissed Tatjana’s smooth pussy. It seemed the right thing to do. If she was the one pressing her snatch in front of a strange girl, she’d want that girl to treat it gently as well.

Tatjana rolled her hips forward, giving her greater access. Rachel took a breath and reached out with her tongue, slipping into the other woman’s fleshy slit.

Master sighed. Satisfied, or bored? With Tatjana’s dress around her ears, she couldn’t tell.

When she and Sammi had ‘experimented’, it had been in a charged atmosphere. Two girls in their early twenties, left to their own devices for the first time in their lives, slick with the smell of sweat and Miller High Life. Tatjana’s scent filled Rachel’s nostrils, pushing her onward. Her taste was sweet, and Rachel’s tongue eagerly lapped it up.

She knew the motions from watching porn, but that was a poor guide in practice. Flesh parted, and Rachel found what she’d been seeking. The rhythm of her strokes did little at first, but as she began to time them with the movement of Tatjana’s hips, she started to hear little approving moans from the woman above her.

Tatjana leaned down, grasping Rachel by the hair. A glance to the side revealed Master, his own drink in hand, eagerly rubbing himself through his pants.

“Mackica,” Rachel heard. “You know this is not what he wants.”

She knew. She’d known from the beginning. Tatjana had been a gift, true, but she wasn’t for Rachel. It was just disappointing to admit, if only to herself.

Disappointing… but freeing.

Still wet with the other woman’s juices, Rachel planted her lips on Tatjana’s, drawing a startled gasp from the other woman. But Tatjana was a professional, and she knew how to react to the change in dynamic. She kissed Rachel back, her tongue snaking through the other girl’s teeth.

Rachel tugged at a golden strap, dragging it down Tatjana’s shoulder and exposing a pale breast. Before she could change her mind, she seized the other woman’s nipple between two fingers and pressed them together. Tatjana was a good actress, but the groan that escaped her lips was no act.

The point made, Rachel lowered herself back between the other woman’s thighs. No delicacy this time, she sank her face into the other woman’s crotch, taking great gulps of her honey and no small amount of her own spit until it ran down her chin. Tatjana squealed in delight.

Her Master wanted a show? Rachel would give him a performance for the ages.

She came up for air to find Tatjana’s palm pressed against her forehead. She watched confused as the beautiful woman took her by the hand, curling Rachel’s fingers down one at a time until only two were left. She took them into her warm, wet mouth as Rachel could only watch in astonishment.

Tatjana winked. She drew Rachel’s digits, still dripping, from between her lips and guided them down. She let out a little grunt as Rachel entered her, and turned her wrist ever so slightly until she smiled and closed her eyes.

Rachel hadn’t known what to expect. Deep in her inner recesses, Tatjana was warm and velvety, but Rachel’s probing fingers brought her other sensations as well. With each new feeling, she looked up to see Tatjana’s reaction – a squint as she rubbed the pubic bone, a lip bite when she curled her finger. She chuckled. She wasn’t half bad at this!

The hand braced against her head pushed down, and like a good submissive Rachel yielded to her touch.

“Jao, kako je dobro,” Tatjana murmured. “Ah! Ah!”

Rachel lost track of time. She felt it in the soreness of her tongue, the ache in her fingers, but she pressed on. Tatjana’s body rocked from her efforts, and she knew she had to be close. She could taste it.

“Ah!” Tatjana screamed. Her hips jerked roughly and with a shuddering sigh, she melted into the couch.

…Was that it? Rachel wondered.

Then with a burst of renewed energy, Tatjana sprang forward. Rachel staggered to the carpet, the other woman following with hungry kisses on Rachel’s lips, her cheek, her neck. She took hold of the collar and lifted it to Rachel’s chin, biting at the soft skin beneath. Finally, she pressed Rachel’s hands to the carpet on either side of the tiny girl’s head. Acrylic nails dug into her wrists.

“You are going to keep these to yourself, yes?” Tatjana teased. “I don’t want to have to get the handcuffs.”

Rachel stole another peek toward her Master. All of his rubbing hadn’t quite been enough to bring his limp cock to life, and he looked torn as to whether he wanted to lean back for comfort or forward for a better view.

She looked back to Tatjana and nodded. Sweat dripped from her brow into her eyes. Even with the air conditioning, it had gotten too hot in the room. Tatjana didn’t even seem to notice, and she licked up Rachel’s perspiration with a grin. Leaving Rachel’s hands unrestrained, she slid backward, making her way down to her skirt.

She peeled back the vinyl like a bandage, even as the material put up a token resistance against Rachel’s sticky thighs. Her head dipped beneath Rachel’s field of vision, and Rachel tried to follow only to find herself trapped in the stiff leather confines of her own corset.

“Hands,” Tatjana reminded her, her warm breath massaging Rachel’s most intimate places. Rachel folded her hands and pinned them under her skull for good measure. She wished that she had a blindfold.

Tatjana’s soft breathing grew closer. Unable to move enough to see, Rachel only felt a wet pressure against the gusset of her panties, teasing but insistent. Tatjana’s talons tickled her bare legs, keeping them spread as she pushed deeper, bringing the bridge of her arched nose into contact with Rachel’s needy clit.

“Ah,” Rachel gasped.

But Tatjana wasn’t finished. She licked her lips theatrically and kissed Rachel’s pussy through the thin veil of material. Her heat, the caress, the sharp reminder of pain – it was becoming too much for Rachel to bear.

“Aah… please. Please…”

“Please what, mackica?” She nibbled lightly at Rachel’s panties, taking them between her teeth. Rachel felt a tug. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Rachel whimpered back. She was starting to grind against Tatjana’s chin, she knew, but she couldn’t help herself, and couldn’t stop even if she wanted to. “Yes,” she tried again, desperate to be heard. “Yes! Yes!”

There was an unmistakable groan from the direction of the couch, and the pull of fabric ceased. Rachel heard her panties snap back into place.

“No.”

“Why?”

“I am sorry, but this was what your Master pays me for... and all he pays me for. Perhaps if you are good girl, he will let Tatjana come again.” She dabbed her mouth clean so as not to smudge her lipstick, then playfully tapped Rachel on the nose. Leaning over, she whispered, “We can choose our masters, mackica. Choose better.”

Gracefully rising back to her feet, Tatjana smoothed her dress as she turned toward Rachel’s Master. “You are satisfied?”

Master zipped up his pants and cleared his throat.

“Quite. Should I drive you back, then?”

“Not necessary. My agency is sending a driver.”

She gathered her purse and shoes from beside the couch. The passion and sensuality that Rachel had felt (and tasted) earlier were gone as if she’d flipped a switch, and now only her detached professionalism remained.

Master leaned in to kiss her as she left, then pretended not to notice when she rebuffed him.

“Odjebi,” said Tatjana sweetly.

“That’s very nice. It means ‘goodnight’ in Russian?”

“No.”

Rachel almost missed it. There was an instant before the door shut, where Tatjana turned and locked eyes with her. The golden woman smiled, radiant. She raised a hand to her lips, and blew Rachel a kiss – not as a lover, but as acknowledgement from one performer to another.

Master gently prodded her with his foot. “Ready for more, pet?”

She’d have to change her underwear first. She was soaked.

“Yes, Master,” she groaned.

“I’ll meet you in the playroom, then. Tatjana was a pleasant diversion, but I imagine you might need a maintenance spanking after a week by yourself. Wouldn’t you agree?”

It wasn’t a question, not really. “Yes, Master.”

“And don’t think that I couldn't hear you upstairs when I arrived – there’s a fresh bar of soap waiting for you after that.” He returned to the staircase, whistling.

Well, thought Rachel, fuck.