Nearly Forbidden: Swim Fan Series, Book One

Chapter One-1

Chapter One

An Unexpected Call and a Visitor

“Hello, Peter. It’s Jacki,” the voice on the other end of the phone said.

“Hi, Jacki,” said Peter cheerfully. “It’s been awhile. What can I do for you?”

“Richard has asked me to marry him and move with him to his new institution in Chicago,” she said.

“Congratulations,” he replied.

“The point is that I’m more attracted to you. Before I give him an answer, I wanted to call you and see if there was any possibility with you. If you’re at all interested, I’ll say no.”

Peter Porter, professor of history, had met Jacqueline Ross about a year earlier at a reception for the beginning of the academic year. He’d been introduced by his friend Dan, the chair of the anthropology department, which sponsored the party. She was beautiful and funny. Peter got her number and called her two days later to ask her out. She had said yes. There was no violation of university policy. She was a graduate student, not an undergrad. She had completed her coursework. He had no supervisory role over her. In fact, she was in a completely different department.

For their date, he took her to the best restaurant in the Little Italy section of town, in what had once been a heavily Italian, industrial city. It was an amazing first date. There was a clear attraction, and they had many common interests. They were incredibly comfortable talking to one another, despite their age differences. She was twenty-four. He was thirty-four. Somewhere near the end of the entrée, after some good Chianti Classico, he leaned over and kissed her. Her mouth willingly opened to him.

Peter walked her home, their fingers intertwined. When they reached her apartment building, he repeated the kiss. He did not press for more, but in the cool fall night air, they stood for twenty minutes, just kissing.

“I should tell you,” she said, “there is someone else circling.” Shortly thereafter, Peter heard that his colleague Richard Elfman and Jacki were dating. Peter felt pretty sure that that was a violation of the rules. She was Richard’s teaching assistant. That, however, was none of Peter’s business, he reasoned. It would be between Richard and the Conduct Committee—if it came to light. Peter backed off. He had seen her a couple of times at campus functions, but otherwise he had had no contact with her. Now, a little over a year later, Jacki was calling to say that Richard had proposed.

“If you are calling me, Jacki, I think you have already answered your basic question: you’re not comfortable accepting,” he said flatly, without any trace of hostility.

“I said that I’d rather be with you.”

“Jacki, we went on one date. There was an obvious connection. I like you. I’m attracted to you. You’re smart. You’re funny. If it hadn’t been for Richard, I would have seen where it would go. You’re a great kisser. That’s about all I know about you.”

“I feel the same way about you. So what do we do?” Jacki asked.

“Ultimately, that’s a question you need to answer for yourself. Before I could say if there was a possibility for us, I’d have to know if we are sexually compatible,” Peter replied.

“Excuse me?!” she responded.

Peter’s response was matter-of-fact but firm. “I’m a highly s****l person. s*x is extremely important to me.” There was nothing but silence in response. After a long pause, he continued, “Do you like s*x, Jacki? Anyone who kisses like you must.”

Another pause followed. “Of course I do!” Jacki protested. “I love s*x!”

“I don’t want to have this conversation over the phone. I need it to be face-to-face,” he replied.

“Can I come over?” Jacki asked, urgency in her voice.

“Yes,” Peter said. “Do you know where I live?”

“Is your address in the faculty directory right?”

“Yes.” He was deliberately not giving her any energy.

“I’ll be right there,” she said.

The line went dead. That’s an encouraging sign, Peter thought, if Jacki were submissive. He was reasonably sure she was. He had gotten that vibe on their date. The phone call had confirmed him in his belief. The question was: how submissive? He assumed that he would soon find out.

Exactly seventeen minutes later, Peter checked his watch when his doorbell rang, she arrived. He smiled to himself as he walked to the door. “Good afternoon, Jacki,” he said with a smile that bordered on a leer. The young woman threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. He pushed her away gently. “I said I knew you were a good kisser. That’s not what this is about.”

Peter led the way two flights up to where his den was. He seated her on the couch. “You look like you need a drink, honey.”

“What have you got?” she inquired, sounding desperate.

“Anything you want. Wine…whatever. I’m going to have a scotch.”

“That sounds good. I’ll have one, too,” she replied. Peter turned and smiled to himself. Jacqueline Ross did not strike him as the single malt type. Was she just trying to please him, he wondered.

Peter walked to the bar, grabbed two Old-Fashion glasses and the bottle of 25-year-old Caol Ila. His anticipation of the outcome of Jacki’s visit called for the good stuff. He poured her a healthier amount than he would normally. She looked as though she needed it. Crossing back to the sofa, he handed one of the glasses to her and sat next her, turning to face her. Raising his glass, he said, “Cheers.” They clink glasses, and she took a gulp, as he sipped his.

“So, you said you needed to know if we were ‘sexually compatible,’” she said, drawing air quotes with her fingers. “Exactly how do we do that?”

Peter began slowly and carefully. He did not want to spook her, though he thought there was little real chance of that. He asked about her s****l history and shared what he chose to about his own. With the casual, comfortable rapport between them and the scotch, Jacki began to relax. It was exactly what he wanted.

“If and when we ever do have s*x,” he said, “it sounds as though we wouldn’t have to use a condom because of STDs. You must be on the pill, right?”

“Of course,” Jacki replied.

Peter pushed his advantage, but only slightly. “What s*x acts do you enjoy?”

Jacki’s head was spinning from the absolutely ordinary tone of the conversation and the liquor, but she wasn’t drunk. She was less than halfway through what Peter had given her. Peter did not want her drunk. He wanted her relaxed but clear-headed. “I like s*x,” she said. “You know, I like intercourse.”

Peter pushed on. “And when a guy f***s you,” he said, deliberately getting coarser, “do you come?”

“I do.”

“And do you like giving head?”

“Yes.” This was becoming just normal conversation to her. Again, it was what Peter wanted.

“Do you know what D/s is” he asked. Jacki shook her head. “Dominance and submission?”

“I’ve heard of it, but I don’t really know anything about it.”

“It’s where one partner dominates the other, and that partner submits for their mutual s****l gratification. Tell me, do you like it when guys tell you what to do in bed?”

“Yes,” she said.

“And when they tell you what to do, what do you do?”

“I do it.”

“Always?” he queried.

Jacki nodded and lowered her eyes. Peter put his hand under Jacki’s chin and lifted her head. He kissed her softly and tenderly. It was same kind of kiss he had put on her lips there in front of her apartment house. Smiling, he whispered very close to her face, “There’s no reason to be ashamed, Jacki. It just indicates that you are submissive—or at least have submissive tendencies that can be nurtured.” He stood up, facing her. “So, if I undid my pants, exposed myself to you, and told you to fellate me, you would do it?” he asked as her began to unbuckle his belt.

Jacki nodded and lowered her eyes again. “Yes,” she said softly. She could see the bulge in Peter’s pants. He was fully erect. Then, without explanation, he refastened his belt and resumed his seat next to her. Confused, she said, “What are you doing? I just offered to blow you!”

“Patience,” he said. “I found out what I need to know at the moment. Jacki, the deepest and purest form of D/s is a Master/slave relationship, in which the sub submits totally to the Dom.”

“I’ve fantasized about being a s*x slave—you know like a slave girl in a harem or something,” Jacki offered.

“Thank you for telling me that. I thought so,” Peter replied. “But you don’t just jump into a Master/slave arrangement. There needs to be a process of discernment on your part, and there are further conversations we will need to have. You would have to be trained over time. I don’t know how submissive you actually are, and I don’t know if you actually have the aptitude.

“What I do know is that I have been involved in b**m since college and that I’m a very experienced Dom. I need a submissive woman as a partner. That’s what I meant by my needing to know if we were sexually compatible. I believe you, as I said, at least have submissive tendencies. If we were together, would you be interested in exploring them and try a D/s relationship?”

“If that is what you want, yes,” Jacki responded eagerly.

“That’s a submissive’s answer. But you can’t do it because it’s what I want. You have to do it because you want to do it for yourself—because you think it might fulfill you in some way, gaining pleasure from submission to another,” Peter cautioned.

“Well, when you said you needed to know if we were sexually compatible, this certainly wasn’t the conversation I played in my head. It’s kind of sudden, but as I said, I have fantasized about it, even if I haven’t acted upon it—until now,” she said. There was no missing the pause and the words “until now.” “And you say that you think that I’m inclined in that way. So, yes, I’d like to give it a try and see where it leads,” she continued.

“Normally, a novice submissive would call her Dominant ‘Sir,’ and he would call her ‘sub,’” explained Peter. “In this instance, because I would hope that we would eventually reach that deepest level—and because I don’t want you to develop bad habits that might be hard for you to break—I will call you ‘slave’ and you will call me ‘Master,’ with the explicit understanding, however, that neither of us have agreed to that arrangement. Do you understand?”

“Yes—Master,” she said, smiling a wicked little smile and lowering her eyes once more.

This might be something after all, thought Peter. You’d better be fairly sure, if you’re asking her to turn down her boyfriend’s marriage proposal. But, then again, she doesn’t want to marry the guy anyway. After a year, you are just a convenient excuse, he rationalized.

“Then, before we go any further, we need to address the elephant in the room,” he said, getting out of his head and returning to their conversation.

She chuckled a little. “You mean asking me into a b**m relationship isn’t the elephant in the room?!”

“No,” he said, sounding serious, “but they are related. The elephant I’m talking about is the fact that I’m white and you’re black.”

Jacki scoffed. She was incredulous. “Peter, it’s 2017. Do you think anyone cares about interracial relationships except white supremacists and hardcore racists? Does it matter to you?”

“Of course not. If it did, I never would have asked you out. I wouldn’t have asked you here this afternoon,” he said, trying not to sound defensive and succeeding.

“Then what are you talking about?”

“Are you sure that as an African American woman in the twenty-first century you want to call a white male ‘Master’?”

“But we’re talking about consensual s****l slavery, not chattel slavery,” Jacki responded.

“Yes, but you well know that during black chattel slavery, black female bodies were sexualized, fetishized, and commodified. And you also know that s****l violence victimized and violated those black female bodies regularly,” Peter said.

“Yes, Professor Master,” Jacki replied playfully. “This is a faculty member talking to a grad student, isn’t it?”

“I’m serious. There are those who will raise the question.”

“How is anyone going to find out what goes on between us in private?” she asked.

“For a modest-sized city, there is a pretty active b**m scene here. I’ll introduce you to it gradually. If things proceed that far, I will eventually introduce other participants into our play,” he replied.

“You mean you want me to have s*x with other men?”

“Under my supervision. Is that a problem?

“I—guess not,” she responded hesitantly. “I just didn’t expect it.”

“Don’t let it worry you. We may never get to stage-two training,” Peter replied calmly.

“Stage two?”

“Yes, training designed to help perfect your submission. It often involves s*x with others. It could also involve other women. Have you ever been with another woman?”

Jacki shifted uneasily in on the couch. “No,” she said. She was aroused.

“You just got wet at the thought, didn’t you, slave?”

“Uh…yes, Master. How did you know?”

“Being a professor and being involved in D/s have something in common: you learn how to read people, to recognize little tells. Just as I was fairly certain that you were submissive, I could tell that you got excited at the prospect of being with a woman. You’ll develop the same skill set.”