Slut E

Slut E

soppingwetpanties

This is a standalone story. It’s part of the “Five” series. It’s the backstory behind Endah “Edith” Karike, a submissive to Mistress Acadia and a foil to David Elliott. This is the first installment of her story on how she became a slut.

Dedicated to Boxwood, who provided the inspiration for this tale.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older.

Chapter One

Meeting Acadia

Endah Karike loved her corner office and a quiet cup of tea before the workday began. Her name came from her Indonesian mother — it meant “beautiful girl.” Her amber almond shaped eyes, glossy black hair, and bronze color skin were also from her mom, along with her sense of intelligence and crushing work ethic. From her American dad, she got her long shapely legs and more pronounced curves than other Asian women. She was a hidden gem – – a voluptuous body disguised by mundane business appropriate outfits.

She was always the quiet one in class. The one with her hand raised with the correct answer, but never shouting and wanting to become the center of attention. She was studious, serious and focused, even as a small child. Even though she turned into a beautiful young woman, her intellect and reserved demeanor led to a dearth of dates, and though she was book smart, she had little experience with sex and the real world.

Endah’s Anglicized name was Edith, the one she had used since high school and college, and the one her accounting clients knew her by. She was one of the founding partners of Karike & Holden, a business and tax accounting firm with a staff of twelve, with their office just over the Hudson River from New York City in Hoboken, New Jersey. She had recently added a new financial planning business and held an option on additional space in her office building to accommodate her expansion plans.

She was still in her 30’s and had gone from indentured servitude with a national accounting firm to starting and then building up her own firm. There had been an early marriage and a divorce, and now she was a professional with a focus on business, with a full schedule of client and team meetings and dinner presentations. Everyone looked up to her.

Except Acadia. Edith shivered in Acadia’s presence; Acadia was an older mesmerizingly beautiful woman and a business client. Acadia had seen inside Edith’s shell of competence and the insecurities and unhappiness that lay beneath. She saw Edith’s thirst for submission that lurked just below the veneer of contentment.

To Edith, Acadia was completely put together – happy and in control of her life. Edith felt that she had achieved the latter, with her elevated sense of precision and the smooth operation of her business and investments but was almost devoid of the former – she was rarely happy. Acadia changed that. Edith found that she would look forward to her business meetings with Acadia, to the point of performing some of the more mundane tasks that would normally be given to a manager or staff person, just so she could spend more time interacting with Acadia. All the office staff knew that when Acadia was in the house, everything had to be perfect. And it was.

Edith took a sip of her hot tea and thought back to that moment, almost a year ago to the day, when Acadia went from business client to trainer. The two women were sharing a coffee at a local roastery after a long, arduous corporate tax meeting when things took a surprising turn. They had known each other long enough to have some personal conversations, including snippets of what Acadia did in her spare time. Acadia previously told Edith about her interest in BDSM, and in particular the domination of women (though on rare occasions, a man). Although Edith had no idea what Acadia was talking about, her admiration for the tall brunette motivated her to find out more about Acadia’s passion.

Edith didn’t think much about sex but was intrigued by the elements of control and obedience that were at the core of a dominant/submissive relationship. Of course, being the meticulous researcher, she had already done extensive reading on BDSM. She thought herself educated on the topic and was hoping Acadia would be impressed. The discussion didn’t go in the direction she expected. Acadia gave her a stern look instead of one of approval. Acadia took a sip of her coffee and dispensed her opinion.

“You’re very good at talking about the game of submission in this sort of academic way, which follows the stories you like to read; limits, safe words, theatrical dungeons, stone floors, chains, stylish leather wear, dramatic lighting, pain and release, a defined play time,” Acadia said, summarizing Edith’s observations in an almost clinical fashion. “It’s not far from the rest of your life, where you’re always planning and always on a schedule and usually achieving your goals. But you’re missing the point in both regards. Work isn’t an end in and of itself, and domination and submission isn’t just about giving and following directions. In both cases, getting the most out of it requires a mindset that you don’t have.”

Edith looked up from her hazelnut latte and her face was hot, not used to being criticized so openly and so quickly. She had eschewed the usual boring business suit and had instead bought a new outfit specifically for that meeting – gunmetal gray silk blouse, two buttons open, hint of lace bra visible, slim expensive black skirt, tall heels and dark stockings, the fashionable but very subtle submissive look, a heavy silver wrist cuff to hint at the idea, her short dark hair carefully done. She was trying to collect her thoughts, to respond to Acadia’s unexpected discourse. Before Edith could formulate a cogent response Acadia continued, speaking just loud enough to be heard by Edith over the din in the noisy café.

“My interest is in the power of control, of taking people who think they are erotic and submissive out of their comfort zone to actually find out for themselves a new depth of feeling about what brought them to need to do this. For most of your life you were a good girl, now you’re an educated wannabe submissive who has read all the classic books. You want to fit this in with your other roles, as a business professional and a self-sufficient woman with a personal trainer, a personal shopper, and a weekend schedule filled with emotionally unsatisfying social events. You see domination and submission as a potential way to achieve an extra sexual thrill but in a risk-free and controlled way. But that’s not what this is all about. It’s about taking risks and surrendering control. It’s the way to free your emotions instead of keeping them bottled up inside.”

Acadia had been at this juncture many times before – the tipping point from academic interest to taking the first real steps towards submission. She recognized that Edith was standing at such a crossroads and was ready to take the leap. Acadia was confident enough to act right then and there on her intuition. She reached over, and took Edith’s coffee cup away, and grasped Edith’s wrist firmly. Their eyes locked together, and there was a silent understanding that Acadia would take Edith down a different path. Edith understood her role was to listen, so she let Acadia continue without interruption.

Acadia leaned forward, still holding Edith’s wrist as she spoke. Edith noticed that some of the people around them were watching their conversation.

“What interests me is undoing that mindset, deconstructing you to get to the essence of what you need. It’s a simple plan, though; you will do as I say, with no negotiation, but you can walk away any time.” She bent Edith’s wrist and slid her hand down to squeeze Edith’s fingers together and dunk them into the hot coffee. Edith watched her do it but offered no resistance, grimacing at the pain caused by the steaming beverage. It was a simple act but one they both understood with perfect clarity. It was Edith’s first act of submission.

Acadia was watching Edith’s eyes and saw Edith’s first small defeat with no emotion on her face. A fashionable, professional, well-dressed intelligent women did not put her freshly manicured nails into her own cup of coffee, no matter what the setting. It wasn’t a dramatic demand, but in a public setting it was just a small piece of physical control which Edith silently accepted, knowing that it would be embarrassing to acknowledge that she allowed it to happen. Edith’s eyes stayed forward, looking at Acadia, though she knew the patrons at the adjoining tables were no doubt watching their ritual.

Acadia finished her first lesson with one last request, made with an even voice.

“Lick your fingers clean and then finish your latte.”

Edith’s eyes sought out Acadia’s, and the keen eyes she usually saw had transformed into a dead serious expression – one that brooked no questions. Edith’s eyes broke contact, lowered to the table, dutifully licking her fingers and drinking the coffee, not tasting the hazelnut but her first taste of submission. Somehow Acadia had stripped away her defenses with a cutting remark and a small physical concession. Edith realized that no amount of book learning could tell her how she felt at that moment.

It was a feeling that started in the pit of her stomach and made her muscles tense and her head shudder.

She wanted to feel that again… and again.

Acadia was watching Edith’s eyes as she removed her hand, sucked the fingers clean, and then finished her coffee. Edith was unable to hide her fresh, raw emotion, and certainly not from Acadia’s trained eyes. Acadia saw the unrequited hunger and pounced on it.

“Give me your keys, we’ll take your car. Whatever you had planned for this afternoon has changed.”