How it all Began...

I thought since I told you how Bethany and I met, I should now explain how she and I started this silly relationship we now enjoy.

This is how it all started: Before anything really happened between us, I had rescued her from a life on the street, and she had been living with me for a little while looking for a job...

She looked for a job for a week but with no luck. She was hardly a burden on me at all. I already paid the full rent and there is always enough food in my house. She cleaned up after herself and sometimes after me too. And she was good company.

I looked forward to coming home after teaching each day, because I knew Bethany would be there, and dinner would probably be made, and we would chat and laugh and watch TV together. Until Bethany moved in, I had not realized how lonely it was to live alone.

Aww... My poor Mistress! Well, I'm here to stay now.

She had almost nothing; clothes, books, and a couple of hideous lamps that I made her keep in her room.

So, you did hate them. I wondered.

Tell the readers about them, and I bet they hate them, too.

Readers, my lamps were shaped like human genitalia. I bought them at a novelty store because they were hilarious. When I moved out of the guest bedroom (and into Mistress' heart,) she donated them to charity.

And they did not accept the donation. Neither did the Pride Center, and that's telling you something.

Whatever happened to them, Mistress?

Never mind. I took care of them. They're gone now. And I would appreciate it if the readers expressed their own opinions of such hideous furnishings.

After two weeks living in my house, she asked me the most unexpected question. “Are you gay?”

I did not like to talk about this, because I had been raised in a very conservative, religious home and I had still not come to terms with the fact that I was attracted to women. I promised myself that if I ever saw a man I was attracted to, I would marry him on the spot, because being gay was so hard on me emotionally.

Ha Ha! Bet you won't marry a man anymore.

Pura, I am done being interrupted now.

*Humble* Yes, Mistress.

“Yes,” I admitted. “I’m attracted to women. But you’re safe. I’m not a predator.”

She laughed, the warm giggle that was so expressive of her emotions. She was always open and innocent. I loved that about her. “I did not think you were a predator,” she said. “I was just wondering if you were attracted to me.”

I blinked in surprise at her. I had never told anyone I had been attracted to them. My only girlfriends had not been so much an attraction as a need to get out and date. After they blew up in my face, I went back to hermit-life. But I did not know how to answer such an honest query. I was so rarely attracted to anyone right off. But Bethany’s personality was adorable, and she was cute, and when I let myself think about it, she was attractive to me.

“Yes,” I said, heart beating painfully. I was afraid she would recoil and laugh in my face. I did not imagine anyone as beautiful as her would have anything to do with me; overweight, sexually in denial, and independent-leaning-on-selfish.

Mistress, I am sorry for interrupting again, but you are not selfish! Independence is an admirable quality. Not one I necessarily share, but I admire it all the same. Please be nice to yourself.

Readers, Mistress is the kindest, most generous person I know. And not just because she has taken me in and turned my life around! She regularly gives to charities, donates her time to wonderful causes, brings meals to families in need that she finds in the community, and sacrifices so her ungrateful financially-irresponsible family can have Christmas each year. That's not selfish.

Pura, my palm is getting twitchy.

Pura will sit quietly and humbly while Mistress finishes her story. *zips her hand across her mouth*

Bethany smiled at my admission and said something I least expected to hear, “Good.” She looked down at her hands.

I sighed. “It doesn’t mean anything, you know. I’m not prone to act on my desires these days. I had a girlfriend. It didn’t work out. I’m not particularly fond of the idea of being homosexual, anyway. And you’re not gay.”

She shrugged. “I could be,” she answered. “I mean, I never had any girlfriends, but I think girls are pretty. I think you’re pretty.”

I stood up to take my dishes to the sink. “You’re mistaking your feelings for me, Bethany. You are grateful to me because I kept you off the streets.”

She stood up and took the plates from me, shooting me an angry look. “You can’t tell me how I feel.” She rinsed the dishes in silence, me watching her, her scrubbing with a passion.

“You’re right,” I finally agreed. “I’m an attractive person, I just thought you could have anyone you wanted. And with that much competition, it never even occurred to me to try for you.”

She looked a little hurt as she loaded the dishes in the dish washer. “Am I too young?” she asked. She was eight years younger than I.

“Maybe,” I admitted. “But I guess age doesn’t have to matter.”

“Then, you could try,” she said, looking at me from across the room, up through her lashes. She very rarely made eye contact with me or anyone, but when she did it was always in this artless way, innocent and curious.

I did not answer her, but her words made me think. What if I kissed her and it was awful? She wouldn’t want to stay, and then where would she go? Back to the steps of the school in the hope that someone else would invite her to stay? Home to her abusive mother and stepfather? I did not want to risk it.

You would understand if you had seen her on the steps the day I met her. I knew I could not ruin what we already had going. Her circumstances were too dire. I could not possibly try to make a pass at her!

I think you were a chicken. With all due respect.

Yeah. I was a chicken., and you're interrupting again.

But you got over it. You're not afraid of me anymore.

Don't flatter yourself, Pura. I was never afraid of you. I was afraid of being rejected.

*Laughing* Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore, do you? You can't be rejected when you call all the shots.

Funny that you think I call all the shots. We're in this situation because of you. And you know that very well...

I happily take the blame for making you love me, Mistress.

That's not what I said, little slave. And I see you trying to seduce me...

Moderator: Pura's response has been edited for elicit content and--out of respect for the readers and the sanctity of Mistress Nichole's contract with her slave-- it will not be shared here.  Mistress Nichole would also like to officially apologize to her readership for abandoning this post mid-story, as she is now attending her slave's summons with eagerness. Check back later for the rest of the story.