The Researcher is in the main bedroom. The bed is made with what looks to be fresh sheets. The light coming in the window indicates that it is late afternoon. He is dressed in the gray soft pants again and is pacing the floor.
"Master," her voice is uncertain, "Please tell me that you don't have any pedophile tendencies?"
She steps into frame wearing what is clearly a school uniform. The skirt is pleated and short, the white blouse has short cupped sleeves and an insignia on the pocket. It is paired with little white ankle high socks and a pair of black short heeled pumps with a strap fastening them to her ankle. The shirt is thin and it is clear that she's not wearing a bra.
"And," she figets with the hem of the shirt, "You didn't give me any underwear. Was that because you didn't wish me to wear any or because you forgot that all mine are either ripped, lost or dirty?"
He stands looking at her without speaking.
"Are you going to defend this choice?" she indicates to her outfit, "Or am I gathering from your lack of words that you have a 'thing' for young girls?"
"No," he exhales, "I don't lust after children. I didn't reply immediately because I was surprised how much you look like her."
"Her? Who is her? Or are you tell me that you lust after one particular child?" she frowns, "Hopefully not a sister?"
"Nothing like that at all," he laughs at her clear revulsion, "Sit down. I need to do your hair. I'll tell you but first I need everything to be perfect."
"Just promise me it's nothing creepy," she hesitates but sits where he's indicating on the bed.
"No pedophilia, no incest, just a lost love," he smiles as he brushes her hair, parting it in the middle then he works to collect each side up into a bunch.
"You lost someone?" she glances at him, "Did she die?"
"No necrophilia either," he laughs softly, "Nothing so dramatic."
He turned her to face him, "Perfect, the resemblance is uncanny."
"You think I look like someone you used to like?" she edges back from him, "That's why I'm here?"
"No," he smiles at her as he shakes his head, "I'm having sex with you, not with my memories. There is one more thing I need before we start."
He waits for her to nod before he continues.
"I want to tie you to the bed," he says without any humor in his voice.
"No," she steps away, "I need more of an explanation that that before you abduct me, tie me down and have your way with this schoolgirl."
"Alright, that's fair," he frowns, "Just remember that this is role playing. I have never seen you as anything other than who you are, however, I have a fantasy that I wish to reenact with you. I am asking you to be open to satisfying this long unresolved need within me."
"And how does this fit with your dissertation?" she smiles knowingly.
"It doesn't," he admits, "This is pure indulgence. I want to possess you the way I could never possess my first love."
"She was your first love?"
"Yes," he signs, "She was lost to me before I had the opportunity to confess my feelings and now I want to do that to you."
"And how does tying me to the bed help with that?"
"Firstly, I need to know that you trust me," he looks are her, "With you tied to the bed you're allowing me full access to your body. You're trust me to care for you, satisfy you, all while respecting you."
"Secondly," he continues without waiting for a response, "This shows how far we've progressed since you ran from me on the first day, and how you forgive me for hurting you when I rushed taking your virginity. This is the ultimate show that we are now past all that."
"And thirdly," he looks at her with a slow sexy smile, "I find it very hot knowing that I'll have you bound and vulnerable to my touch. I want to have you surrender to me and then I want to take you and have you experience a different type of pleasure."
"BDSM?" she skews her mouth indicating something she doesn't like.
"No," he laughs at her obviousness, "I'm not going down that path. I don't want to punish you, nor do I have any desire to discipline you."
"No gags, whips, chains, thumbscrews, or any other torture devises?"
"I have a feather, does that count as a torture devise?"
"Maybe," she frowns as she leans back on the bed, "What going to use? Handcuffs?"
"No," he lifts up a bunch of neck ties from the other side of the bed, "Something much softer and less restrictive."
He takes her hand as she offers it to him and he places the noose around it and pulls it tight to capture her wrist, then he fastens it to the knob at the corner of the bed, before moving to the next hand and finally her feet. When she's spread eagle on the bed he smiles as he stands back to watch her squirm.
"Comfortable?" he asks.
"Vulnerable," she frowns, "That's the word you used. I feel very vulnerable."
"Good," he smiles, "There was another reason why I wanted to tie you down that I didn't mention."
"Murder?" she suggests.
"Not quite," he smiles as he climbs on the bed to kneel between her knees, "Truth. I want the truth from you, and I want to confess to you."
"You've got something to confess to me?" she pulls at her bindings, "You've been lying to me."
"We've both been lying, PJ," he smiled with sadness in his eyes, "That's right PJ, I know exactly who you are. I've known the whole time."
"You know?" she gasps.
"Yes, I've known who you are since I first saw you all those months ago," he trailed his finger down her leg, "You are PJ Wilson, Paige Jane Wilson, sister of my childhood best friend James. I'm surprised that you thought I'd forget you. We grew up together and you had the biggest most obvious crush on me."
"I didn't," she blushes.
"Oh, yes you did," he laughs at her clear lie, "And you're still a terrible liar."
"If you knew, then why did you pick me for this study?" she looked away from him, "You rejected me years ago."
"I rejected you?" his eyebrows lifted high, "Is that how you remember it?"
"You said I was a child," she pouted.
"In my defense, you weren't sixteen at the time," he laughs, "And I believe I said that we needed to wait until you were older."
"And you said I wasn't pretty."
"I said that I couldn't take advantage of your youth," he smiles.
"You said that you didn't like me."
"I told you that I couldn't like you," he signs, "You brother would have killed me."
"But you laughed at me," she whimpers, "You hurt me."
"I'm sorry that's the way you remember it," he frowns, "I couldn't tell you the truth. I was seventeen at the time and having a girlfriend who was almost two years younger than me wasn't acceptable. Your brother wouldn't have been the only one who would have cut my balls off. I did have feelings for you but I forced myself not to act on them until you were older. I thought I had time to wait until you were old enough for it not to be inappropriate."
"You wanted me?" she gasps, "That can't be true."
"Why not?" he shrugs, "I watched you grow up and develop. I went to college and promised myself that when I returned for summer holidays, I'd make my move and confess."
"Confess?"
"You're my first love," he smiles, "and if I'm being accurate, then it would be fair to say that you're my only love. You would have known all of this if your mother had not remarried while I was away. I got an email from your brother but when I replied, the address bounced. I couldn't find you, your surname had changed and I heard that you'd gone overseas. I lost you."
He trailed his finger up to the hem of the skirt.
"I don't plan on losing you again."
"I don't understand," she shook her head, "Why didn't you just tell me?"
"Would you have listened?" he counters, "When I first noticed you, I watched you while I tried to confirm my suspicions. You looked the same, but I wasn't sure it was you. Your name was different, not just the surname, even your given name was different. You didn't refer to yourself as PJ and I'd only known you by that name."
"And I saw how you watched me," he frowns, "You didn't approach me, but you always seemed to be in the same place as I was. You didn't look happy to see me. I got the impression that you had an axe to grind. Your brother used to tease you about having a crush on me and I sort of got the impression that my rebuff of you might have given you grounds to dislike me."
"But if you knew," she asks avoiding his accusation, "Then why did you pick me? I don't meet your criteria."
"This is why I wanted to tie you to the bed," he mumbles, "I didn't want you to react badly when I admitted the truth to you. I want to have an opportunity to explain my actions."
"Oh," she closes her eyes as if bracing for the truth.
"There is no study," he grimaces, "My dissertation is on workplace contract negotiations."
"This is a sham?" she stutters, "It's all fake?"
"Yes," he nods, "No academic body would authorize or fund a thesis on sex."
"But?" she shakes her head, "The journal? The recording? The interview?"
"All fabricated," he confesses, "I put the ad up while I knew you were watching, then I interviewed you and structured the whole dissertation to give you the impression that I didn't know who you were and that we were just strangers having sex."
"No," she gasps, "I heard everything. Your journals, your methods, it can't be fake."
"I knew you were listening," he looks down at her, "I had to be thorough in my preparation or you would have been suspicious."
"But? Why?"
"Because I know you," he smiles with a sad look, "I wasn't sure what your intentions were, but I could tell that you needed to be in control. I thought you might want to get back at me for what happened when I left, or you might want to start afresh with no history lingering between us, but whatever you wanted I knew you would never accept me or trust me until you could get that squared away."
"And you did that by tricking me?"
"I justified it by allowing you the scope to do what you needed to do," he clenches his teeth, "But yes, as unacceptable as it is, I lied to you."
"Untie me," she pulls at her restraints, "Now."
"I will untie you," he reassures her, "But first I deserve an explanation. I've told you the truth, now it's your turn."
She purses her lips and glares at him.
"Hmm," he smirks, "Let me see if I can help you?"
He leans over and kisses and licks the white dress shirt directly above her nipple until she moans and arches her back to push the tight bud and fabric layer into his mouth.
"You lied about almost everything to gain access to this study," he lifts his face but doesn't shift from his position balancing above her.
"Not everything," she growls.
"Yes, true," he draws in a deep breath, "Did you save yourself for me? I can't tell you what a privilege it was to be your first. I'd dreamt about it so many times, but then, to get that opportunity was overwhelming. I will forever hold that in my heart as one of the pinnacles of my life and one of my biggest regrets."
She looks away before glancing at him and then finding something interesting on the bed.
"You lied about that too?" he gasps, "You liked it?"
"It wasn't too bad," she bites he lip, "I needed you to suffer a little."
"Wow," he signs as his hand finds the hem of her skirt, "That's cold. Did I cut you that deeply?"
"I worshipped you," she sucks in a breath as his hand finds the dampness.
"And now you want me to worship you?" he smiles as he shifts his weight backwards so that he's in a low kneeling stretched out over her.
His head nuzzles into her groin as he prostrates himself on top of her. She gasps as he suckles.
"You are my universe," he whispers as he licks, "You are everything and I will do anything, including all of this, just to make you happy."
"Why would this making me happy?" she tries to sound defiant, but her breathlessness erodes the indignation.
"Because, you were," he smiles, "You loved it. You liked thinking that you had me exactly where you wanted me."
She didn't deny it.
"And you were willing to risk everything just to have me captured within your web," he moves up to watch her, "And not just everything you have, but everything I have too."
"But it wasn't real," she pouts, "And you took everything I had when you rejected me, it was only fair."
"At the time you thought it was real," he shifts his hips, "How far were you prepared to go? Were you going to report me for indecent conduct? Were you going to have me kicked out of college for improper behavior?"
She signs as he moves his erect penis down her wet crevasse with slow and steady purpose.
"You still could do that," he whispers to her as he pins her with the tip of his member balanced at her entrance, "You have me at your mercy. You could destroy me if that is what you want. I can't stop you if it's your plan."
"More," she whispers as he doesn't move to fill the place which is now aching within her.
"You've been very naughty," he thrusts deeply causing her to moan loudly, "So, very, naughty."
"Yes," she hisses with each thrust.
"Now," he stops himself down and then inches himself in and out painstakingly slowly, "Tell me your plan, PJ?"
"Please," she groans the plea, "Faster, just a little faster."
"The plan?" he prompts without varying his steady movement.
"I can't," she tries to lift her hips to encourage him deeper.
"Yes, you can," he adjusts his position to prevent her from obtaining what she needs.
"You said," she whines, "that you wouldn't torture, no punishment."
"I said that there would be no torture devices," he smiles as his breath hitches, "And I wouldn't punish you. This is more painful to me than it is to you. Tell me your plan so that I make all this frustration disappear."
"I can't," she wriggles under him, "It's too embarrassing."
"Then let me guess," he grimaces as he shifts his hips slightly to a better position before going back to the precise and slow pendulum swings of his hips taking his erection half way in then sweeping it back to almost leaving her body.
"You chose to come here, to this college, because of me," he clenched his jaw as the strain on him maintaining the pace became evident, "But once you saw me you couldn't risk just approaching me. You thought I would reject you again."
She nods just enough to confirm his analysis.
"So that gave you two choices," he groans softly, "You could have made yourself beautiful, popular and found a boyfriend to hang on your arm, and then when you approached me you could have brushed me off like I was hardly a memory."
"But that wouldn't have helped," she cringes, "You wouldn't have cared that I'd moved on. And it wouldn't have made you want me."
"That might have been true if I didn't actually care for you," his jaw tightens and there's a sheen of perspiration on his brow, "Which left you with option two, force us into a scenario which meant I couldn't avoid you."
"I wanted you to love me," she blurts out, "I wanted you to be besotted with me like I am with you."
"And you thought sex was the answer," he breathes a soft laugh.
"Yes," she looks at him with big innocent eyes, "If it wasn't for this study, I was going to try to seduce you at a party."
"But I don't go to parties," he smiles at her deflated nod.
"I thought once you loved me," she looks away with a soft pink on her cheeks, "And you saw that I could be sexy and was all grown up, you'd confess your love and we'd be together."
"You've always been sexy," he corrects, "You didn't need the red dress and shoes to prove that to me. And sex doesn't mean love. I loved you before I slept with you."
"You love me?" she blinks as she annunciates the words very carefully.
"Yes," he allows himself to sink fully into her and holds himself there as he states, "I love you PJ. I always have and I always will."
"Oh," she looks at him with a wide smile, "That's good."
"And now that you have my heart," he starts to trust with more vigor, "What do you plan on doing with it? Is revenge your goal? Do you want me to beg for forgiveness? Do you want me on my knees?"
"I want you," she moans as her back arches, "On your knees, on your back, on all fours, and in every position that you can imagine. I want you to make love to me."
This seems to release him from any pretense of restraint. He lifts her hips off the bed and commences pitoning his pelvis into hers without pause. Her back arches, causing the bindings on her wrists to be tight and strained, but if she is in any pain that is not her primary concern. Her body trembles and convulses as she screams out her pleasure.
He pounds himself into the twitching body under him and then hooks himself as deep as humanly possible, lifting her further off the bed as he climaxes while roaring her name. He groans as he holds her exhausted body to his, as if he is trying to maintain his position inside her despite the softening of his penis.
"I love you PJ," he finally whispers, "Please forgive me? I promise that I will never lie to you again."
"I love you too Johnathon," she smiles with the soft expression of someone who is fully sated, "And you'd better not or next time it will be me who withholds sex."
He flops to the other side of the bed and reaches to untie the bindings. Then, when she is free, he props himself up on one elbow and watches her with a wearing expression.
"I'm not going anywhere," she smiles at his concern, "At the start of this you offered yourself up as my pet. You're now more than that. You are mine now, my man, and my responsibility, and I'm going to make sure that this is your last dissertation awaking sexual needs. From now on, all your sexual needs will be alert and fully met by this modern woman, do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," he smiles.
"Then turn off the camera and come back to bed."
His lazy smile implies enough that his penis twitches back to life as a scramble out of bed and the camera view goes black.
The end....