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illfoandillfie · 4 years ago

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A Different Kind of Education: V Is For Vanilla (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Professor!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Summery: After being broken up with for not being kinky enough, Reader seeks out her professor to give her some private tutoring so she can win her boyfriend back.

Warnings: Modern AU, smut (18+), slow burn romance, light dom/sub dynamics, light dom!roger and sub!reader, professor x student sex, protected sex, vaginal fingering, light breast/nipple play, nipple sucking, light biting, i think thats it, honestly this chapter is (as the title says) pretty vanilla. But things will get more intense in later chapters.

Words: 7,128

A/N: ahhhhhh it’s finally here. This professor Rog idea has been kicking around my head for months now and finally I’m actually doing something about it lmao

This series is going to be LONG (like in my plan it’s 15 chapters) because I have So Many kinks I want to squeeze into it. Some were chosen by me and some were chosen by everyone who voted in the poll I put up a few weeks ago and i am seriously so excited about what’s coming.

Smut scenes in this and all future chapters will be marked with stars so that if there is a kink you’d like to avoid you can skip over it and still enjoy the rest of the series.

Also, I know the chapter title doesn’t super make sense since he’s a university bio sciences professor which doesn’t have a lot to do with the alphabet but 🤷‍♀️ that was the working chapter title and it kind of stuck. Plus, ya’ll know I love chapter titles that have a theme lmao. Anyway, no more stalling. Enjoy the filth and start preparing yourselves for it to get so much filthier.

(the ultimate hot professor rog moment tbh)

@atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

His office door was open when you got there which didn’t give you much time to hesitate or rethink your decision to ask your Professor for help. He would have seen you approaching or stalling in the doorway and invited you in anyway to query you about your reasons for being there. So, instead, you raised your fist and rapped a pattern on the door frame with your knuckles. “Professor Taylor? Can I have a word?” “Miss Y/L/N,” he seemed surprised to see you, his eyes widening behind his spectacles, “come in. What can I help you with?” You closed the door behind you and took a seat, fidgeting with your fingers as you tried to remember how you’d planned to broach the subject. Professor Taylor – Roger, as you’d been told you could call him – waited patiently. “It’s tricky, Professor. Umm, see, well um,” “Is this something to do with the coursework? If you’re worried about the last assignment, you don’t need to be. It was really good, what you handed in.” “Really?” “Mmhmm. I was going to give you all feedback next week but if it’ll help put your mind at ease I can show you the comments I have for you early,” You were half a second away from asking to see them when you remembered that wasn’t what you’d come to ask about, “A-actually that’s okay Professor.” “Oh? So was it something else you wanted? I know that this Masters course is more work than previous classes you’ve had with me but you seem to be keeping on top of it all. I’m very impressed by what you’ve accomplished so far.” “Thank you Professor, but, um, that’s not really what I’m here about,” “No?” He leaned forward resting his chin on his hands, “You know, there’s no need to be nervous about talking to me, I’m not going to fail you,” he chuckled as he sat up straight again, clearly trying to lighten the mood though his expression became more serious as he said, “if you’re having trouble with something, or someone, please tell me and I will do what I can to help, whether it’s pointing you in the direction of someone more able to support you or talking to people on your behalf.” You nodded, feeling marginally calmer though still nervous, “I was actually hoping for some private tutoring,” “Oh? Well if you’d like to put your name down as a tutor I have a form here somewhere, if you fill it out I can pass it on and have your name added to the database,” Roger rifled through a stack of papers on his desk, only stopping when you spoke again. “No, not, uh, not tutoring work. I more meant tutoring from you. In an area that this Uni doesn’t provide classes in,” “Miss Y/L/N I’m going to have to ask you to explain because I’m not quite sure what you’re after,” You took a breath and resisted the urge to speak to the floor, “My boyfriend dumped me last week.” “I’m sorry to hear that but I don’t see how-” “He dumped me because apparently I’m not kinky enough. I don’t know, he always wanted me to be super obedient in the bedroom but I never really understood it.” Roger shifted in his seat, “Miss Y/L/N I don’t think this is app-” “I want someone to explain it all to me, teach me how to be what he wants so I can get him back. If I can show him that I can learn, that I can submit in the way he expects, then we won’t have to break up. I love him and I’d do anything to get him back and I’ve been thinking about it and I think you’re the best person to teach me.” “I’m not sure I understand why you would come to me with this. I am very sorry to hear you’re dealing with that but it’s not really appropriate for me to be discussing such matters with my student.” “Just…” you held your hand up to try and stop him from standing and opening the door for you, “You must realise that you have a, um, a reputation.” Roger was taken aback by that, throwing you a confused expression as he settled back into his seat. “Surely you’ve heard the rumours about you. About what you like to get up to with women.” “I can assure you I haven’t,” “Seriously? Everyone talks about it. I mean part of it is probably just because you’ve got that whole DILF thing working for you so like half the students here have crushes on you. But then you throw in the gossip about how you like to tie women up and all the rest of it,” Roger closed his eyes as if he couldn’t quite keep up with everything you’d just said, “How- I mean, those rumours have no bearing on- on anything and they aren’t even- what I mean to say is-” “Professor, it’s okay. It’s just gossip, nothing serious in it. But if you do like that sort of thing, I could really use your help. I won’t tell anyone, all I want is my boyfriend back,” Roger pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, “This is insane, what you’re asking is insane.” “No it’s not,” “Okay, lets, Miss Y/L/N, just for a moment, let’s imagine that, hypothetically, I say yes to this. What then?” “Well, I’d expect we’d meet up once or twice a week, you’d teach me the basics of kink, anything you thought I should know. Then in four months’ time I can talk to Dylan and show him what I’ve learnt and he’ll take me back.” “Why four months?” “Oh, we’re pretty much guaranteed to see each other then. Two of our mutual friends are getting married and we’ll both be at the wedding. So will you do it?” “Miss Y/L/N, I don’t know that this is a good idea,” “Why not?” “Well our ages for one thing,” “So what? You’re mature and experienced and that’s what I need. Plus, surely having someone half your age throw herself at you is a bonus.” He smiled slightly, “All the same, it’s wrong. I’m your teacher.” “Exactly, who better to teach me?” “The ethics of this- and the rules of this university. If anyone found out I’d lose my job, you’d lose your place at this school so you wouldn’t get to complete your degree. Not to mention I’m sure you have family and friends who would chop my bollocks off before they ran me out of town.” “It’s not like I’m underage, I’m doing a bloody Masters. And no one would find out. We can meet in secret.” “It’s still so risky, Ms Y/L/N,” “Look, Professor, I wouldn’t tell anyone, you won’t tell anyone. As long as we’re careful about when and where we meet no one will find out. Please, Professor. I need this,” you thought you could see his resolve cracking but decided to give him a final push, “But if you really don’t want to then I’ll find someone else. I’m sure I can meet someone online. Fetlife? That’s a website for this kind of thing, right?” “Fine, I’ll do it.” He said suddenly, “But we do it my way. And certainly not on campus.” “Okay,” “Are you free tonight?” “You wanna get right into it?” “I want to discuss this further, off campus, to set some ground rules, and I think we’ll both be more comfortable discussing it over dinner.” “Dinner? Like a date?” “A business deal. Miss Y/L/N, if you can’t take this seriously,” “I can, I promise. Dinner where?” “Well, public places are out of the question. So you can come over to my house. Be there by Seven and make sure no one knows. Here’s the address,” “Thank you Professor,” Roger grunted as he scrawled his address on a scrap of paper, holding it out to you, “Go, out of my office before I come to my senses,” You nodded and scurried off, taking heart from the bemused tone behind his snippy words. In a matter of a few short months you’d be able to put this breakup behind you and show Dylan just how much he meant to you.

A few minutes before seven o’clock you rang Roger’s door bell, looking around at the long driveway and the tidy garden beds at the front of the house as you waited. He opened the door quickly and hurried you inside glancing around the front yard as if someone were spying on him. “I brought wine,” you said, holding the bottle out, “You’ve got a nice place,” “You sound surprised,” he said as he took your jacket from you and hung it on a coat rack to the side of the entrance before taking the wine with a gracious nod and examining the label, “Y’know being a university professor doesn’t actually pay too badly.” “Yeah but this place is massive,” He chucked, “I inherited a little from my Nan and Pop and then there was the album. That was enough to buy this place.” “Album?” “Oh, I was in a band in my youth, one mildly successful album and a couple of writing credits on the singles set me up nicely. Not nicely enough to retire on but still.” He shrugged as he led you through his sizeable house, up a set of stairs and towards the back balcony, “Plus, this place didn’t seem so big when I was sharing it with my ex-wife and our kids. Uhh, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss. Now, make yourself comfortable out here and I’ll just go check on the food.” You nodded, still trying to wrap your head around the sheer number of rooms and hallways you’d passed as well as the fact that your old Biology professor had once been in a band. It was hard considering you’d only ever seen him presenting lectures to an audience of tired and often hungover students but you supposed he did have a kind of magnetism that would have been at home on a stage. Still, you’d have liked to see pictures.

Roger returned a few moments later with two plates of food, a couple of wine glasses tucked in the crook of his arm. You quickly reached to relieve him of something, before one of the glasses could shatter and put an end to all your plans. Though perhaps a broken glass would have helped break the ice. It wasn’t the most comfortable dinner you ever had. You found it hard to swallow, hard to sit still, torn between wanting to jump right to the main topic and wanting to let Roger bring it up in his own time. The last thing you wanted was to come across as just trying to get a leg over the hottest professor on campus as if for a dare or a joke. Him retracting his agreement was a very close second last. Instead, you gulped down your drink and tried to focus on the reasonably nice meal Roger had prepared for you. Finally, after watching you top up your glass for the third time, he put you out of your misery. “Why me?” “What?” “Why did you approach me with this idea of…tutoring?” “Like I said before, the rumours abo-” “Okay but there must have been something beyond that. There could have been rumours about any staff member. If the school gossip had said Professor Richardson had a sex dungeon where he tied up women and spanked them, would you have approached him?” “So you have heard the rumours,” “Of course I have. Answer the question,” You stalled by taking another drink, though only a sip that time, “No, I wouldn’t have.” “So, why me?” “You’re hot?” Roger gave you a look you’d seen in the classroom – his stop fucking around look, usually reserved for first years who still treated dissection and cadavers as a joke. You shrugged, “You’re one of the best teachers I ever had. You always said we could come to you with any problems we were having and whenever I took you up on that offer to go over the coursework you were encouraging and supportive and knew how to push me in the right direction without giving me all the answers. I guess I felt like I could trust you. Like you’d take me seriously or at least hear me out before shutting the door in my face. And if the rumours happened to be false then you seemed like the sort of person who wouldn’t be offended by them or my proposition.” Roger smiled to himself, but it was only for a few brief seconds and then his professional demeanour was back in place, “Alright, well, I’m listening now so why don’t you tell me about this ex and the sort of things he requested of you. And then I’ll decide whether to kick you off my property or not.” There was a twinkle in his eye that told you he wasn’t serious about throwing you out, but it didn’t stop you from feeling timid about the conversation, “Umm, okay. His name is Dylan. We were both in your Bachelor bio class, that’s how we met. Or kind of. We were aware of each other but went to different parties and hung out with different people. It wasn’t until last year that we actually met and got chatting and started seeing each other. I thought it was the real thing, like proper love, soulmate stuff. So when he broke up with me it took me completely by surprise. Everything felt perfect with him. Except for the sex.” You paused, feeling a little self-conscious about speaking so frankly about your personal life, and with your professor no less. Roger removed his spectacles and wiped them on the bottom of his shirt, “Ms Y/L/N, you’re going to have to be able to talk about sex with me if you actually want this to work.” “The sex was fucking great okay? Especially at the start. But the longer we went out the more he pushed for me to be submissive to him. He’d joke around about wanting to fuck me while I was asleep or mostly asleep, and he’d dirty talk by calling me his toy or saying that he owned me or sometimes about pimping me out to his friends. I indulged some of his ideas like when he wanted to be especially rough with me, pushing my head down into the mattress, pulling my hair, slapping me, things like that. And it was fun, but I never enjoyed it the same way he did and whenever he brought up the sleep stuff or if he tried to bend me over while I was cooking dinner I always stopped him. He’d laugh about it and say he was just joking but I guess he meant it more than I thought he did.” Roger remained quiet, watching you thoughtfully until he was sure you were finished, “If we did this what limits would you want in place?” “None. I want to be the perfect submissive for Dylan, I want to prove I can be whatever he wants.” Roger shook his head and put down his glass, “What was it you told Dylan when he suggested using you while you were in the middle of something or if he brought up the sleep stuff?” “I just told him no, I wasn’t into it or I was busy.” “Then that’s a limit. If you don’t want to do those things, that’s okay. Everyone has limits.” “But that’s the point. I need to learn how to be into those things so he’ll have me back. My limits are what made him leave.” Roger exhaled heavily though his nose, “Okay then, is there anything you would consider a turn off?” “I don’t know,” “Well I don’t believe that. I’m sure you have at least some idea of what you like and what you don’t.” “Yeah I guess I do but if I’m the submissive one then it doesn’t matter what I want. This is about Dylan and doing what he wants.” “Personally, I’m not big into feet stuff – toe sucking, foot jobs, anything like that – it just doesn’t appeal to me, whether I’m acting more dominant or more submissive, and I’ve made sure to tell every one of the women I’ve been with who hinted that they’d be into doing that kind of thing. A lot of women, in my experience at least, don’t like anal or things like knife play or scenes that feel violent or menacing.” He paused, watching your reactions, “From what you’ve just told me, it sounds like Dylan might be into free use and consensual non-consent so if either of those things sound like a turn off to you, you should let me know. Dylan will have limits of what he’s comfortable with and comfortable doing to others, I guarantee it. You need to make your limits known too. It’s all part of being in a D/S relationship and playing with any kind of BDSM type kink. The main rule we follow is safe, sane and consensual, and believe me, I will make sure we follow it during our lessons. So, is there anything you would consider a turn off or anything you wouldn’t want to do, even for Dylan?” “Can I think about it and get back to you?” “I suppose so. If it helps I can give you an idea of things I could teach you and you can tell me if any of them don’t feel right.” “Yeah, I think that would help,” “Alright umm, obviously because this is about what Dylan likes we should address consensual non-consent and free use at some point, but they would come later. Somnophilia too. I’d probably start with something easier or more common anyway. Spanking is nearly guaranteed, basic bondage methods – cuffs, ropes, that sort of thing – maybe some more extreme bondage too depending on how much you enjoyed the basic bondage. Ummm, choking, maybe some gags, tease and denial for sure. Any of that sounding too scary or intimidating or just not fun?” “They all sound okay I think, although some of them I haven’t heard of before.” “It’s a start at least. Of course, I would begin with the smaller kinks and work our way up to the more intense ones, and hopefully by that point we’ll both be more familiar with your limits and what you are interested in taking further.” “So, does that mean your agreeing to tutor me?” “I can definitely work with this.” “You mean it?” “Yes. Apparently I do.” He trailed his gaze over you for a moment, “How would you feel if I suggested we move this to the bedroom?” Your heart skipped a beat and you hoped your shock hadn’t shown on your face, “You want to start now?” “Sort of. What do we do at the beginning of a science experiment?” “Measure a control group,” “Exactly, you do a control before you mess with variables so you have something to measure them against. In this case, I think we’ll be able to tailor kinks to you better if I have some idea of what you enjoy during sex and what it takes to get you off. Is that okay?” “Yeah, of course, yeah. Makes sense.” “If you want to wait a couple of days we can,” “No, now’s as good a time as any. And the sooner we get into it all the better really.” Roger chuckled and stood, holding out his hand to help you out of your seat, “You’ve always been an enthusiastic student.”

Leaving your plates and glasses on the balcony table, Roger led you towards his bedroom. You wished you’d had a little more to drink, just to dull the sudden wave of nerves that had risen up. You were about to fuck a professor. Professor Taylor. It was a bizarre scenario you’d got yourself into and in an effort to distract yourself a little and calm down, you focused on his bedroom wall as he busied about closing curtains, eyes trained on a framed watercolour of a lake under some cherry blossom trees. “You like it?” “Huh? Oh, yeah, it’s pretty,” “I got that while I was in Japan a few years ago.” You nodded, not sure what to say next. “Are you okay?” You turned and found Roger much closer than he had been a moment before. “Are you sure you want to do this?” “Yes, sorry, just a bit nervous I guess. Feels kind of odd now that I’m actually here. If I’m being honest, I didn’t really expect you to agree to this.” “I did tell you your idea was insane. But that’s okay,” he slowly reached forward, his hand settling on your hip and gently tugging, encouraging you to step in closer, “It’s kind of weird for me too. So, we’ll go slow. And if you want to stop at any time we can.” You nodded, eyes glued to Roger, and let your tongue wet your lips. His eyes followed the movement, “Does that mean you want to kiss me?” There was a playfulness to his voice, teasing almost, and you found yourself relaxing and agreeing that you did. And for the first time you realised just what it meant for those rumours to be true. “So then kiss me.”

******

A kiss you could do. Pushing aside the realisation that this was your first kiss since Dylan left, you leaned in and pressed your lips to Roger’s, though you pulled away quickly. Roger didn’t say anything, just waited, lips lightly parted. Your heart was racing with excitement and uncertainty, but you wanted more. He welcomed your lips the second time they met his, his hand gripping your hip harder now that he was certain you were going to stay. It was almost needy the way he kissed back, something you’d not have expected from your Professor. His nose bumped yours and yet he didn’t seem to care, leaning further into you, his tongue tickling your lip seconds before you felt it slide against your own tongue. Familiar but entirely different from the kisses you were used to. His hands didn’t move like Dylan’s did, not grabbing but gently squeezing, reassuringly firm. His leg was suddenly between yours and you took a step back in surprise. Roger followed so you took another and another until you felt the edge of the bed behind you. Dylan and your nerves almost entirely forgotten, you reached for Roger’s belt. He let you unbuckle it and pull it loose before he grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head, kissing you between looks heavy with desire. He broke away for a moment and toed off his shoes, bending to take his socks off too, “So, is there anything you particularly like, any positions?” You copied his movements, kicking your own shoes just under the bed, “Not really. I can work with whatever.” “Stop trying to please me and tell me what you like Ms Y/L/N,” he said, reaching for your hips again so he could push your jeans down. “I mean I guess I like being on top, riding, whatever you want to call it.,” you quickly unhooked your bra and let it drop to the floor, “But Dylan tended to like me under him.” “New rule,” Roger said, kicking his own pants off his ankle as you tugged his shirt from his shoulders, “No talking about your ex when we’re this close to being naked. Okay?” “Yeah, sorry, good rule.” “Y’know I could have taken your bra off too,” “Faster this way,” “I’ll let you have it this time. But next time I unwrap you myself.” You shivered at the implications of the statement as Roger resumed the kiss and pressed you backwards onto the mattress, quickly climbing on top of you, his hands braced on each side of your head as he leaned down to kiss you once more, hungrily.

He didn’t stay there long though. A few seconds later he’d shimmied down your body, creating a trail of kiss warmed skin, until his face was positioned directly above your breasts. You raised your head and watched enraptured as he his eyes met yours, the hint of a mischievous grin lighting up his face, and then he lowered his lips to the top of your left breast. You let your head drop back to the bed and ached your back a little, pushing your chest towards him. “Yeah, you like that?” he asked, voice rougher than you’d ever heard it before, “what if I do this?” slowly he let his teeth sink into you, just for a second. It was enough to pull a small hum of appreciation from you so he repeated the action on your right breast. “Feels good?” “Yeah,” you breathed out, softly. “Yeah?” he asked, pushing himself up so he was straddling your waist, “What about this?” You felt his warm breath surround your nipple before you felt his tongue lap against it or his lips enclose it, letting your eyes slip shut as you drew your lip between your teeth. He seemed to appreciate the response and made sure to repeat the action a few times against each nipple, sucking on one as his gently flicked the other with his thumb. You tingled at the sensation of his warm saliva cooling and gently squeezed your legs together. “Don’t be shy,” he said, sitting up again and laying a hand over each of your breasts, “I can tell you enjoy it when I play with your tits,” You pulled in a shaky breath as he squeezed your breasts, “Mmhmm, yeah,” “Do you want some more?” “Yes, Professor,” He made a short clicking sound with his tongue, “I think we’re past Professor by now, you can call me Roger. And you can tell me what you want,” “I want more,” “More what?” You hummed again at the feeling of him massaging your boobs. “More what? Should I keep sucking on your perky fucking tits? Jesus they’re so fucking soft,” he cleared his throat and shook his head a little, “Or, should I give some other part a bit of attention? Your pussy’s probably feeling a bit left out, huh?” You’d expected him to boss you around, make demands, and you’d expected a bit of dirty talk (the kind where he’d tell you how sexy you looked or that he couldn’t wait to fuck you). But the reality surpassed everything you’d considered likely. You certainly hadn’t expected to get wet just from his tone and his words. And you definitely hadn’t expected to be doing what he asked, agreeing with everything he said. But that’s exactly what was happening, and it felt good. “Please touch my pussy.” “It would be my pleasure,” he smiled softly as he climbed off of your waist and pulled your underwear down, “and yours.”

The change of position gave you a moment to catch your breath but also to take in Roger’s appearance properly. You had to admit you liked what you saw. Of course, you already knew he was attractive. More than once you’d found yourself distracted in class, mind on what a cute bum he had or how shapely his hands were or else on his fluffy hair, light blonde but with streaks of grey blended throughout. He was the epitome of the hot teacher really, especially with his gravelly voice and the youthful sparkle of his eyes, magnified by his usual pair of glasses. What you hadn’t seen before, and what you were revelling in now, was his naked torso. There were muscles in his arms, not Hollywood style bulging biceps and you’d certainly never have noticed them under the sleeves of his work shirts, but they were revealed as he shifted his position and you had the sudden urge to reach out and squeeze them. A light fuzz of hair covered his chest, though it was so light it was barely visible, and a marginally thicker thatch of it trailed down into his underwear. And in between was his stomach, the years of fatherhood evidenced by how it softly protruded out over the hem of his underwear. Once, a few years ago, someone had found a photo of Professor Taylor taken in the 90s when he was twenty-something and, thanks to the university meme facebook page and a few students with near influencer levels of followers, just about the whole school had seen it and had wet dreams about it. He’d been stick thin then, eyes ringed by dark grungy eyeliner, long messy hair falling about his face, and his plaid shirt unbuttoned. The Roger settling beside you now was miles away from that boy but you liked his current look, from his shorter hair to his rounder body, though he seemed to have the same skinny legs. “What are you thinking about?” he asked as he propped himself up on his elbow to look you over. “This is…better than I thought it would be,” “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” “No, that’s not what I meant. I don’t know, I just...I could never picture it before, actually being with you. But you’ve made it feel easy and, well not normal, but y’know, not too strange either.” “So you’ve been liking it so far?” “Mmhmm, it’s felt really good,” “Good, that’s what I want to hear. But,” your breath hitched as you felt his fingers stroke between your legs, “experiments not done yet.” He watched his hand as it moved, his fingers sliding between your lips, spreading the wetness that had begun to pool with his earlier attentions. Each shift of his fingers pulled soft sighs and small ohs from you as the pleasure began to slowly build and you pulled him down into another kiss, wanting to feel him closer. He eased the first finger into you gradually, whispering questions about how it felt and if you were ready for more. You’d have expected his constant quizzing to be annoying but he peppered them between comments about making you feel good and dirty talk about getting you ready for his cock as he pulled your hand over to his crotch to give him some small relief. And somehow everything just seemed to turn you on more, his obvious desire to make sure you were comfortable included. You barely registered when he added the second finger, pumping both into you rhythmically as he delicately sucked at your pulse point, though you knew the third was coming, a response to your pleas for more. You’d meant his dick really, ready to move things along but he’d been adamant about making sure you were properly stretched out, not relenting until he’d fit four fingers inside you. “Fo-four?” you whimpered as he pressed the last one into you, “Three not enough?” “Just to be on the safe side. My cock is about average length but its girthy,” “I – oh Roger – It feels huge to me,” “Please, I’m 46, I know it’s not the biggest thing in the world. But I also know it doesn’t need to be to fuck you so right.” You weren’t sure how to reply though he didn’t give you many options, jerking his fingers inside you and making you moan. “I know there are nerves involved which can impact how wet you get and I don’t want to do anything that would cause you pain or discomfort, so I’m going to finger you until I’m ready to stop. You can beg all you want but I won’t fuck you until I decide you can handle it.” Even that was hot though you weren’t exactly sure why, but whatever it was you found yourself nodding in agreement, staring at him through eyes half lidded with pleasure.

When Roger was satisfied that you were ready for more than his fingers, he pulled them from you and got to his knees, shuffling around to rummage through his bedside cabinet. A moment later you realised why as he kicked off his underwear and tore open a condom. You watched as he rolled it down his shaft, noting he’d described himself quite accurately. “Sorry,” he said as he caught your eye, “did you want to do that?” “No, that’s okay,” you chuckled, “just that Dylan never liked to wear them,” “Hey, we have a rule remember. And this is the first time I’m fucking one of my students, I’m not doing it raw, are you kidding?” “Sorry. And yeah, you’re probably right to use one.” “Hey, this is just the control remember. Condoms are a variable we can change later.” You laughed at that and nodded as Roger squirted some lube into his palm and began stroking himself, letting out small groans at the contact. “Are you going to fuck me yet or is there something else I have to wait for?” “Careful Ms Y/L/N, you know I don’t tolerate that kind of attitude.” He smiled as he crawled over you again, catching your lips quickly before he sat back on his heels and pushed your legs wide. With a final look, as if to give you a chance to end things before they went any further, he lined himself up and pressed himself into you. You gasped as he filled you easily, bottoming out. “God you feel good,” he panted, “are you okay? Can I move?” “Yeah,” you nodded, “please move.” He breathed out a small sigh as he pulled his hips back and snapped them forward again, finding a rhythm. As he got more comfortable in the moment, Roger leaned over you again, pushing his face between your breasts and laving your skin with his tongue. He rediscovered the spots he’d found earlier, humming around your nipples and squeezing your boobs as he thrust into you. “Feel good?” “Yeah,” “You close yet?” “Not really.” “That’s alright,” he said softly as he readjusted his position, sitting back and lifting your legs over his shoulders. You felt the angle change as he fucked into you harder than before, his pace a little faster, “Play with your tits for me.” You didn’t hesitate to do as he asked, panting in sync with his thrusts as he dropped his fingers to your clit, rubbing in tight circles, forcing more moans and whines from your throat. “That’s right, tell me how good it is to be spread out under your professor, full of my hard cock. Christ you’re so fucking tight. Why didn’t I fuck you sooner?”.” You let your moans pick up a little as he ploughed into you, willing yourself to reach your climax. “Yeah? You like that. Are you close now?” “Uh-” “So no.” “Sorry, i-it just takes a while usually. I could f-fake it if you wa-nt to stop.” “No!” his voice sounded strained as he stilled inside you, “This is about getting you off and I will keep fucking you even if it takes all night for you to cum. I just need to readjust again.” Your laugh became a small whine as he pulled out of you and rolled you over so you were on top of him, “what are you-?” “Ride me. You said you like being on top so ride me,” You smiled and pressed your lips to his quickly before settling yourself over him and carefully sinking down into place. As you took him as deep as you could you halted a moment to enjoy the sensation of being full again, gently rocking your hips as you braced your hands on Roger’s chest. He held your gaze as he slipped two fingers into his mouth, pulling them out when they were dripping with saliva. He pressed them together with his thumb before bringing the wet digits to your right nipple, massaging it until you arched your back and tilted your head backwards. There was no way to resist any longer and you raised yourself on your knees before sinking back down, grunting as he hit just the right spot. “Better?” he grunted. “Mhmm,” you managed to get out before a moan, once again lifting and dropping yourself. You settled into the flow of it, the movement of your hips and the way you pulsed around him as you took him harder and faster, feeling the pleasure build and build and build. Until Roger’s voice, cracking with the effort, broke through your concentration. “Fuck, I’m close, I’m close. I’m gonna cum,” “Okay,” you said, not sure what else you could say, a little disappointed that it was going to be over before you could finish. So much for all night, though you supposed he’d only said that to help you relax and finish faster. At least it was hot watching him unravel beneath you, his grunts and groans loud and shameless, his hips spasming under yours. You waited until he was done, eyes closed and chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to regain control of his breathing, and then lifted yourself to dismount him. Or you would have, except you felt his hands grab you by the hips and press you down again. “Your turn,” he said it so earnestly, no hint of the dominant teasing from earlier or any egotistical overconfidence, that you found yourself agreeing immediately, shocked into doing what he was guiding you to. You raised your hips again, let him pull you back down hard and before long you’d found your rhythm again. He let go of your hip, moving the hand to messily rub your clit as you shifted a little, changing the angle by a fraction. It was enough to have you careening towards the edge, even as Roger pulled air through his teeth as the extra stimulation. “So close,” you muttered before he could ask, eyes shut, intent on your mission. “C’mon, cum on my cock, show me how good it feels,” You nodded unthinkingly as he encouraged you, feeling it just out of reach until finally the familiar warmth washed over you, a long moan slipping from between your lips as you swivelled your hips, prolonging the orgasm as long as you could. “There you go, good girl.”

******

Roger gasped as you climbed off him and carefully removed his condom to throw it out. “I could have done that,” “You did enough.” He was smiling when you turned back to face him and beckoned you over to join him on the bed once more, pressing a kiss to your jaw and the corner of your mouth before he found your lips again. You sighed against him, lost in the blissful warmth of the moment. “I’ll do it. I’ll tutor you,” Roger said after some time, his arm draped over your side, your faces inches from each other. “You mean it?” “Yes.” “Because I’m a hot shag?” He let out an exhale of laughter, “Because I would rather you learnt about that kind of stuff from someone like me than some random on the internet who thinks that being dominant means being cruel or causing pain. At least I can make sure you approach things from a healthy angle with your own enjoyment in mind as much as your ex’s.” “Thank you. So…when do we start?” “Give me a few days to plan out some lessons, put together a curriculum.” “Oh, so it’s going to be like proper tutoring then.” “You’re the one that came to a teacher about this.” “Fair enough.” You would have happily stayed there longer and you later wondered if Roger would have let you had an alarm on his phone not gone off, a reminder to put his bins out for collection in the morning. He frowned as he realised the time and glanced at you. The piercing melody had brought the reality of the situation back to both of you. “I guess that means I should leave, right?” Roger sat up and scooted a little further away from you, “Yes, you probably should.” He paused for a moment, “No one can know about this.” “I know, I understand. It’s our secret.” He pulled in a breath, “Exactly, our secret. Do you need me to call you a cab?” “No, it’s fine, I drove here.” “Okay. Well, why don’t we get dressed and I’ll walk you out.” “Are you okay with this? If you really don’t want to teach me, I’d understand.” “No I want to. More than I should.” “That’s okay. No one will know and we’ll do things your way, whatever you think is best.” “My way,” he muttered to himself, “Yes. Exactly. Okay. Um, tell you what,” he swung his legs out of the bed and bent forward to retrieve the underwear he’d discarded earlier, pulling them up under cover of the corner of the bed sheet, “I will grab my things and go collect our dishes from dinner. You can stay here and get changed and then when you’re ready to go, come find me in the kitchen, okay Ms Y/L/N?” “Sounds great, Professor Taylor.” He nodded at you once more before he left, bending to collect his pants and shirt on his way. You waited a minute or so, mind racing with the events of the evening and the promise of what would be coming, before you too stood and began to redress.

When you felt sufficiently tidy you stepped out into the hallway and headed in the direction you hoped led to the kitchen. Roger was there, redressed and hardly looking like he’d just got out of bed, leaning against the bench, eyes out of focus. When you arrived though his head jerked around towards your movement. “All good?” he asked, “got everything?” “Yeah, think so.” “Well,” he said, leading you towards the front door, “it was great having you. Over. Having you over. I’m glad we could come to an agreement.” “It was great for me too Professor.” “I will see you in class on Monday, don’t forget about that reading you’re meant to do.” “Got it. Um, can I ask about my next tutoring session, when would that be?” “I will talk to you about it after class on Monday if that’s okay.” “Absolutely, whatever works for you Professor.” He opened the door, standing on his side of the entrance as you stepped outside, “Right, well. Goodnight Ms Y/L/N,” “Goodnight Roger,” you said, quickly leaning in to kiss his cheek, “and thank you.” He still looked a little stunned as you got into your car, wondering just what you’d got yourself into.

#my writing #my fics #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #professor roger taylor #it feels so good to be posting this tbh #i cant wait for ya'll to read it and also the rest of the series ksjflsflsjflsjf

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xntrek · 6 years ago

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2018 - A year of discovery, crying, depression, loss, rejection ... and not necessarily in that order.

It all started, as most things do, with a drink.

— more —

For years I knew I was different, that my emotions were not the same as others, that I felt things in weird ways and with that came a way of interacting with others that was ,,, different to standard societal norms.

I always knew that I could love multiple people, equally and equitably - at the same time. No one else around me was the same, and everything - movies, stories, fairytales, counsellers, therapists - tells us that love is some kind of pie that apparently you need to decide how to slice up - because there is a limited supply of it.

That was never true for me.

My love is bottles. Each person gets one, and the more I love you, the more bottles I fill on your shelf. Those bottles never go away either. I may no longer have you in my life, but those bottles remain - getting dusty, but as full as always. Even ex-partners who have wronged me still have their bottles - sure, there may be warnings or a cross-and-skullbone label on them, but the love, it’s still there.

Late last year I met someone who finally gave me a name for people like me. Polyamorous. Yet, in my initial research I didn’t think I was one of them. Most of the literature is either based on “technical polyamory” relationships or on those more inclined to what I referred to as the “poly sexual” group - namely the swinger set and those addicted to the NRE (New Relationship Energy) high.

But I did find others who were like me, and for a while that was enough.

But, as I said, it all started with a drink - and someone who I was attracted to, who I was avoiding because I wasn’t meant to have those feelings for, who I wasn’t meant to crave or desire or in any way have - she told me she wanted me.

Now, you have to understand something else - no one has ever said that to me before. Ever.

I’ve been with Ingrid for 25 years. We love each other. I know she loves me. But she never wanted me. We met under confused messages, we found ourselves together. We have worked through a lot of things over the years. But she never wanted me. Worse, she rejected me, more than thrice - and yet I forgave and we kept going. But this entry isn’t about that.

With the discovery of “my people” and thus the fact I was not a “freak” and the impetus of this wonderful person who awoke a part of me I had forgotten existed - I asked, although she tells me I practically demanded - that I be allowed to explore this part of me. She agreed, but apparently it was because she felt she had to or risk losing me ... so I found out later.

I set up a few dating accounts - tinder, OK Cupid, FetLife - and she even helped me to do so. I had the young lady who had expressed her interest in me, but thought that since she had a boyfriend (she wasn’t a poly), worked with me and had expressed her desire while very drunk that nothing more was ever to come of it.

That was incorrect.

We started seeing each other. It was wonderful. It made me happy.

But then Ingrid realised it was real. She had originally asked me not to tell her who I was seeing, but due to my stupidity and incorrect assumptions, she discovered who this woman was ... and it was no longer ok.

This was just as I headed off to the united states in May.

In New Orleans, at the Collision Conferance, I met another woman - she was intelligent and gorgeous, everything I would have described as a perfect subject of my “weird science” experiment if I had been given that power ... we synced on so many levels ... except she did not see me in that way, at all. Story of my life really.

We became friends though, and it turned out she was the Ingrid in her relationship with a poly ... so we talked and talked and I saw her point of view, and thus understood Ingrid’s better as well.

I came back to Australia and the pieces of the wreck that was my relationship was still there to sort out. But first I need to back track to March 2017 to catch you up on the other half of my life that was crashing down at the same time - work.

In 2017, the multinational I was working for merged with another. Combined, it became a corporation of 170,000 individuals world-wide. Prior to the merger, I was the Divisional COO - the operations lead for a division of four practices and 400 people at its peak. Due to the magic of McKinsey, my role was merged with that of the acquired group and the role was offered to the individual with the University degrees, not the one who was already in the function (i.e. me), So, over the next 6 months, I had to manage the transition of the staff over to the new divisional organisation, including the graduate programme cohorts I was managing ... until i was left without a department, a team or a group of young minds I had been enjoying helping set up their careers and development.

Fast forward to June 2018 and the various avenues I had been exploring in the new corporation were all drying up - the CTO function for two seperate divisions I was in the running for were both de-funded and thus dead in the water. The leadership role for a Digital Transformation Center that partnered with a local university, also died for the same reason. The Principle Consultant role was re-classified as an associate level and the three suggestions I offered for new roles were all declined.

So there I was - home and work life both in shambles.

Due to the machinations of beaurocracy, my last pitch demand from my previous director to “give me a job that actually makes use of me or pay me out” became a decision to do the latter - but that would take another three months to actually implement.

During this time, Ingrid and I were trying to determine what to do. Although she claimed she felt I had given her an ultimatum with my request, she now gave me one ... remain monogamous or we have to go our seperate ways.

We got a therapist - we went on a relationship therapy weekend ... we have talked and we understand each other a little better ... but ultimately nothing has changed.

So, come September 1, 2018 I was out of a job with a redundancy payment, a relationship that was broken, a lover who couldn’t be mine and an emotional state that was rougher than a perfect storm seascape.

Over the last few months I have had to try and regain some of my professional confidence - something I am still working on - but ultimately came to the conclusion that I wanted my work life to have some real meaning - a purpose that was greater than profit.

A dream job came up - the CTOO role for the Movember organisation - but i missed out on that due to their dream candidate being available and ready to start. So, that hurt, regardless of how logical and reasonable the choice for them was.

I forked out 20K from my redundancy to hire an outplacement service. They’ve been good - helping me with my CV, networking, LinkedIn, etc. However, as I said, I wanted a purpose greater than profit ... so I sunk another 50K into starting a business. From scratch.

I’m sitting here at 3am on a Thursday morning, on my back porch - smoking. Oh yeah, I returned to my self-destructive habit of coping by swallowing my emotions and my self-loathing one drag at a time.

I have a lover who is done with me.

I have a partner who is happy with the way things are and doesn’t want anything to change.

I have no job.

I have a business with no clients.

I have a rapidly declining bank account.

I have my MDD slamming my emotions harder than a screen door in a storm.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot - I discovered something else about myself this year. As part of a therapy session to deal with my eating disorder - I discovered that even under the power of suggestion, I couldn’t find a “safe and happy place”. My life has been tumultuous to say the least ... but the thing that gets me, is that almost all of the therapy options rely on building you back up by finding this magical place and using it as a foundation.

So, yeah. That’s great. What happens when you don’t have a foundation stone?

So - that’s been my 2018. Crying. Depression. Rejection. Loss. Basically a general sense of dystopic hopelessness.

If I survive the “festive season” I can only hope that 2019 is a fucktonne better.

It has to be, right?

#depression #crying #loss #rejection #polyamory #relationships #fuck 2018

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iamnotadamnedmonkey · 7 years ago

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Duckmans Guide on how not to pick up women.

Hello there friends! Your friendly neighborhood Duckman here, with some advice on how NOT to approach women on the internet. I’m going to go through some common tactics I’ve seen in use, and talk about where we’re going wrong with this, mmmkay? Fair warning, I’m looking at this from a fairly heterosexual world view, because that’s what I mostly know.

REMINDER: There are ALWAYS exceptions to everything. This is just how not to offend the VAST MAJORITY of women. This list is not all inclusive, it only calls out behavior I’ve seen a bunch.

Penis Pictures- Oh my god, guys, men, friends, please for the love of god stop doing this. Unless somewhere on her profile it states ‘Please send me pictures of your penis as a way of introduction,’ she is NOT interested in opening up a new message to see your schlong. While opening up with the cock shot does reveal to her your intentions, it does not engage her interest. To be perfectly honest, most man pole looks the same as the others, and rarely is interesting enough to be the star of the show. Trust me friends, when you’ve flirted with a girl for a while, there may come a time when she asks to see the might of your manhood. Then, and only then, when she has verbally acknowledged a desire to see your meatstick, that’s when you whip it out.

Random Friend Request From Nowhere: All right guys, I know what it’s like. You’re on a cool site like Facebook, or fetlife, and you see a pretty face. You admire her pictures, you think you two could click, so you send her a friend request, right? WRONG. Let’s look at this from two aspects here-

Facebook-The majority of women on Facebook are not there looking for dates, or hook ups. The ones who are, are likely in groups that advocate that… and it’s still not okay to send them that random friend request. Facebook, as a platform, is generally best used to talk to people you already know, be it from real life interactions, or some other way online. People on facebook are looking to interact with friends and family, not Joe Schmoe who wants to tell them how pretty they are, or wonder if they’re interested in a quickie behind the local bus stop.

Fetlife: Here is where it gets hard (heh heh) for many men. After all, these women are not just posting cute selfies, but naked pictures of their bodies! They MUST be seeking friend with a virile, manly stud such as yourself! Sadly, that’s often a no. See, the wonderful thing about Fetlife is that, in addition to friending people, you can also read their profiles, where they put all sorts of wonderful things about themselves… including, quite often, whether or not they accept friend requests from strangers! So read those profiles, and, if it says they don’t, then don’t try!

Thinking something doesn’t apply to you: So, on a lot of dating sites, they give people space to write a profile. Many people put a lot of effort into these profiles. They will put in said profiles what they are looking for, and who should contact them. It may say things like “I’m a lesbian,” “Not looking for anyone over 50,” or “I’m asexual.” It is your responsibility, as the one reaching out, to read these profiles, and LISTEN to them. If you message a woman who has on her profile “I’m only here to tease people, don’t expect me to put out,” you can not then complain that she doesn’t put out. It’s also SUPER bad manners to think you can change someones desires, just like that. Some of these distinctions and requests may seem weird to you, or may upset you because they exclude you:

Suck it up buttercup. No one is required to interact with you.

The state of their genitalia: This covers everything from “Are you wet right now?” To “Are you pre op or post op?” Until you are in a relationship with this person, it’s none of your business. Even then, it’s only your business if they make it so. Hey, Hello, hey there, yo, what’s up, how ya doing: All of these greetings are fine, if sometimes exasperating, for people you already know and are good friends with. For people you are trying to flirt with, or otherwise engage with…. It’s not going to get you anywhere. Even in those cases when someone replies, it goes like-

“Hi.”

“What’s up?”

“Not much, You?”

“Not a lot.”

“Okay.”

And as we can plainly see, that gets you nowhere. Engage with these women you’re attempting to woo! Tell them WHY you’re messaging them. (We’ll get into some of the problematic whys further down.) Ask questions. If there is a profile? USE it. Maybe she mentions liking smooth jazz, and so you can ask her fi she’s ever been to a Kenny G concert, or if she talks about being a juggalette, maybe send her a picture of you with a bottle of faygo. (Do not include your naked junk in said picture. See first point.) Talk to her like a real person, ask about her interests, talk about your own, and what you’re seeking.

Hey Beautiful, Gorgeous, Baby, Darling, etc: Now this is one of those variable ones. For the most part, women are not okay with men they do not know appending labels to them. Once you get to know them, this can be a different story… But including it in a first message implies a familiarity that may not be welcome. Not just that, but, well, it’ so played out. Every guy thinks he can be special by telling a girl she’s pretty… So, as a result, a whole lot of girls have heard it all before and it just comes off as one more douchebag.

For the love of god, don’t lead with your fetishes: So, you’re looking for a girl to do naughty things to you. Or one you can do naughty things to. Good for you! You know who doesn’t want to hear it? The MAJORITY of women online. When you send a message that starts off with “You’d look so much better on your knees,” or “I have a 15 gallon drum of industrial strength lube, and a horse farm,” you’re going to scare most people off. Hell, even on fetish sites, you have to remember that not everyone shares your fetishes. Let’s use Fetlife again… The women there have profiles, and nice long lists of what kinks they have interest in. Many of them also have roles set up “Domme,” “Submissive,” “Babygirl,” which indicate what they are looking for. If you go to a lass who is labeled as dominant, and instruct her to get on your knees before you, you’re going to have a bad time.

So, 1) make sure your fetishes click. 2) Make sure she’s LOOKING for that. Generally, if someone is seeking, or romantically/sexually available on any such site, they will make it known. 3) Even if your fetishes do click, and she is looking, don’t assume she’s looking for you. Sometimes, you’re just not what she wants.

Begging for pics: If she doesn’t know you, and has no reason to care about you, she’s not going to send you naked pictures of herself. Make a relationship/friendship first, and then see what she’s up for. Even then, don’t beg. Ask. If she says no, move on.

I’m a nice guy!: If you have to tell people you are a nice guy, you sadly aren’t Sorry, yes it’s unfair, but it’s just the way it is. This also applies to ‘feminist,’ ‘not a racist,’ etc… the more you try to claim you are, the more clearly people think you aren’t.

Any references to age: Whether it’s “Oh, you don’t look that old!” or “You look like a minor, so I had to check,” there is no good (easy) way to reference age. While there are some good hard ways, it’s one of these advanced lessons in flirting that we aren’t covering here. Just leave age off the table.

Any references to weight: Okay, SERIOUSLY this is a huge minefield. You have no way to know ahead of time how someone feels about their weight. Especially don’t say things like “I really like bbw,” or “You’re very pretty for a big girl,’ or ‘I usually don’t like big girls, but you’re really pretty.” No, just, no.

Negging: Fuck this shit. Do not tear down women in the hopes of getting somewhere. This is a dick move, and do not do it. Period.

DON’T BE A DOUCHEBAG WHEN YOU ARE TURNED DOWN OR IGNORED!: I see this all the time.

“Hey, you’re beautiful, wanna hang out?”

“No, I have a boyfriend.”

“Fuck you you ugly whore, no one wants you anyways!”

“Hey.

What’s up.

You there?

Wanna fuck?

Listen you bitch, the least you could do is tell me no. Yer a stupid etc etc etc.”

And that last one usually occurs in the span of 15 minutes! Guys, just because it says a girl is online, doesn’t mean she actually is paying attention! And if she doesn’t respond to you, there’s a reason! Elsa that shit, and let it go! For the love of god, there is no reason to insult a girl just because she’s not interested. There are billions of people on this planet. The vast majority of them are not interested in you… and that’s okay! Be the bigger man, tip your hat to her, and walk away. It’s ok, you won’t hurt yourself doing it, it doesn’t make you less of a man, just let it be.

Pushing: I mentioned it above, but I feel it needs its own. For the love of god, don’t keep pushing. If someone says “I have no interest in making you my toilet,” then, what they mean is “I have no interest in making you my toilet.” You can not turn a no into a yes by being annoying about it. In fact, all you do is make that no more intense.

Thinking you know better than her: We get told a lot in society that no means yes. That women don’t know their own mind. And, we see this reflected in mens approached to women. You get guys telling a girl they know her real place is underneath him, or being his baby girl, or that she’ll actually like sex with him, as opposed to all the other times she tried. A woman knows her own mind. Take what she says at face value. If she means something different, she’ll tell you.

Wrap up: So, in the end, how do you approach women on line?

Carefully.

Remember, you’re not the only one approaching them. There’s lots of guys out there seeking the same thing. You need to prove that you’re interesting, not a creep, and worth talking to. You need to show them you are personable, friendly, funny, charming, witty, clever... You know, all the things they are looking for.

You also need to go into any attempted encounter with the understanding that friendship is not taking second place. If you cultivate a friendship, you have someone you can talk to about stuff, hang out with, and you know, be friends. Men and women can be friends without sex in the way. And, here’s a tip, straight from the Ducks Bill: If you have female friends, real friends, people who know who you are, and know you’re not just friends with them in hopes of trying to get some from them, THEY WILL HELP YOU GET A GIRL. No, seriously, if they know you’re a real good guy, and not a Good Guy™ who is just pretending, they will introduce you to their single friends. Seriously, it works!

So, be a good person, get laid. End of Guide.

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playingwithmytoy-blog · 7 years ago

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What Do I do?

So as a follow up to the original post, I thought that I would pose a question or two.

As discussed, Abby has moved onto a “master” I again put this in quotation marks and a small m as the more I find out about him the less of a Master, a leader, a man I think he is.

Now, I have honoured the no contact instruction each time. This last time at the direction of the “master” He got into the Abby’s phone and accounts and blocked me. I assumed that that was the definite final contact and that she was gone for good. The realisation of this hit harder than the other times as previously there was still the option of her contacting me if needed. Abby was deeper in my mind and my soul than I had admitted to myself. So this one hurt a lot more than the previous times. What a sap right?? Anyway after a week, I took a deep breath and said to myself, get over it and don’t let it affect the rest of your life. I had just come to terms with it and was Ok to move on, I actually slept OK that night.

The following morning, the Abby tried to phone me 8 times in 10 minutes and left a text saying she had tried to call me. She again phoned in the afternoon. Uncomfortably, she was at home with the ‘master’ She was again having doubts and was feeling trapped and used. He popped in so she had to pretend that I was her Mum.

I still feel that I know her better than him at the moment. Remember, I have known her for 15 months, he has known her for about 6 weeks. She is struggling because he dosen’t read her, doesn’t know how to move her from vanilla to d/s and back again. life is not what she imagined it will be. He is very much in her face 24/7. He is at home all day and frequently contacts Abby when she is out. Going to the supemarket and to take her son to and from her fathers place to school and going to sit alone at a motel for work is seen as a relief and respite for Abby.

His form of control seems to absorb her, to swamp her. To be involved in everything that she does without adding value. Abby needs to be active to know things are happening. She is a social being and likes to have a good time. To sit around the house all day is not her. To be given restrictions that hinder how she runs her business is not good for her. She needs help with her business to get the best out of it to run it better. She dosen’t need someone making it harder.

It takes time and thought to truely take control of her. She is tough to manage and it takes time for things to become habit. I have seen enough things change to know what is possible. Having her 24/7 should mean that the opportunity to take great strides is there.

Like all people Abby has goals. She wants to own her own home again. A base where the kids can come to. A foundation for her. She wants to develop her business and branch out into other things. She wants to write a book. None of these goals have been addressed and/or planned for.

Abby was feeling like she is being used. As mentioned in the first installment, within two weeks of meeting her, he moved her in and gave her a figure of $250 for her share of rent and living costs. Now the rent is $320 per week, so that is $90 left for power, water, internet etc. So, for both of them combined that would be $9240 per year for power, water and internet! Food is on top. Abby buys all the food, she pays for lunch and coffee when they are out. The “master” may have cooked four times in the last 4 weeks and bought some ingredients for these. Just prior to calling he asked her for more money “to pay the power bill” Yes, Abby had already paid an amount each week to cover this.

The ‘master’ decided that he was her pimp and he should on top of the rent etc., get a share of her earnings. Yet he does nothing to help her develop the business. i would guess that she has earned less in the time that he has known her than in the equilavent period of time prior to meeting him.

Abby at this time is holding on to her rented home so she is paying 1 1/2 rents at the moment. Her rent is less, maybe they should have lived there.

I always said to Abby that money brings choice. it might not necessarily bring happiness every time, but it gives you choices. I pushed her to save and admonished her for being so generous to her son who has far more electronic gadets than a kid should! This is something that I know she believes now.

OK, you may want to know what he brings to the financial table. Let’s summarise this. So he is 60, dosen’t own a house, has no savings(?), is on a benefit but has not stated that he has a flatmate (Metiria Turei) or stated that he is in a defacto relationship (Winston Peters), is unemployed and has been for at least two years. He has recently had a health scare. His interests and hobbies include BDSM/Fetlife and.... not much else. he is at home most of every day and expects Abby to be there too. It seems stupid that he hinders Abby’s work as a more considered approach would mean that he could help her increase earnings and allow him to bleed a bit more out of her.

He is persuasive and plays a lot on Abby’s craving for a 24/7 d/s reationship. Like I said, she could do much better. I have said to her dozens of times, ‘Tell me that you are happy and this is what you want and that it’s working out well for you and I will support you 100%” I have not had a positive answer to that yet. There is always a but.

Now after the intial couple of chats the other day, I have not heard from Abby again. It’s four days later.

That was a long winded way of getting you up to date so that I could ask these questions. Should I worry about her still? Is there more going on that Abby may have left out? Should I make the effort to find a way to contact her? If/when I talk to her, how firmly should I be telling her to get out of this because I can’t see a good future for her in this? Should I just again respect the no contact agreement and again come to terms with this as the FINAL FINAL contact and consider it not my problem?

OK, full disclosure, I still care very much for Abby, I care what happens to her and want her to be happy.

I would be lying if I said that I didnt want to have some sort of relationship with her again. If I could do over what we had and could get the chance to handle it better, I’d grab it with both hands. That is the selfish me talking.

However, at the very least I would be content to have regular contact with Abby and to catch up on the odd occassion that she comes up for work, to be part of each other’s lives again in some capacity. Being cut out like this, particulary in this way is very much a kick in the guts.

From the previous paragraph, it may seem clear that I will still worry about Abby, I will still wait for her call. It would be fantastic if she was to tell me that she had moved out and that she was safe and coming to terms with it. I really do want to know that she is safe even if she is staying and that she is truely happy and has found what she was looking for. Until I get either of these types of call, I’m just going to worry and think the worst like the sap that I feel I am at the moment.

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