Confused, but compliant

It is about twenty minutes later when Alison is sitting nervously on my couch, and I explain what I have in mind.

“Do you understand what I mean about you not seeing Richard anymore?” Alison's expressive eyes drop to where her fingers are twisting on her lap, and I hold my breath until she responds so softly that I can barely hear her.

“Yes Sir.” In spite of the lack of volume, I feel confident that she is sincere.

“Look at me, Honey.”

“Do you understand why I don't want seeing Dick?” Her cheeks turn a shade brighter and she fidgets nervously on the edge of the couch. One of the things you learn as a teacher is wait-time, and I remain silent until she has **** but to offer some kind of answer.

“Maybe ... because sex is bad for the baby?” I have to smile at how little this coed knows.

“No Honey, sex during pregnancy is fine; in fact, Fran used to get extra horny in the second trimester.” I ignore the wave of emotion that comes with thinking about my wife and turn my attention to the matter at hand. “If I'm going to taking care of you, Alison, I'm not sharing you.” Her eyes widen at the forceful possessiveness in my tone. “You belong to me, and only me.” For many young women this kind of old-fashioned attitude wouldn't go over well, but Alison had been brought up in an environment where the woman is supposed to be subservient to her man and the look on her face is not one of relief, not rebellion.

“Yes, Sir.” I've always liked her calling me 'Sir' and decide on the spot that I may as well lay down some more rules about what her life is going to be like from now on.

“While we're at it, there are going to be a few other changes.” When she nods her head obediently, I start counting on my fingers. “Rule 1: I like the 'Sir'. Whenever we are alone that's how you'll address me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Rule 2: Nothing that happens in this house leaves the house.” When Alison nods again, I continue, trying to think of what's most important.

“Rule 3: You have to maintain your grades. If you get anything less than an A in any of your classes, there will be consequences.” I see Alison look up at that one, but I know she's smart. The last thing I want is for her grades to plummet because she's busy serving my perverted desires. “Speaking of consequences,” I continue making up these rules as I go along. “Rule 4: I am allowed to spank, pinch, slap and tease you sexually. Hmm, maybe we should set up a 'safe word'?”

“No, Sir.” Alison is steadfast in her rejection of that idea. “I trust you to know what's best for me.” I smile as I imagine what Dr. Lark would say if she heard Alison's declaration of total submission to a man.

“OK, Rule 5: I get to use you, sexually, any time and anyway I want.” It is not my imagination. Alison's breathing comes faster, and I see her lick her lips as she wonders what it is that she is agreeing to.

“Yes, Sir.” She lifts her eyes to meet mine. “I'll never say 'no' to you, or object to how you touch me,” she pauses for a second biting her lip provocatively, “unless of course, that's what you want. Like if you were an Apache savage who has just captured the proud white daughter of the fort commander ...” The smile on her face is a pretty good indication that this is something she'd like to explore.

“It might not even matter.” I remind her. “We'll know in a couple weeks if you're pregnant or not. If the test comes back negative, we can always go back to the once-a-week deal from before.”

A wave of different emotions seems to be warring within my tenant's expressive face, and I wonder whether she even wants to go back to the prior deal; for that matter, I'm not so sure if I want to.