EROTIC STORIES :

THE ILLUSTRATED TEACHER - PART 2
© remittance girl, 2007.

If you've arrived at this page first, perhaps you'd like to read PART 1

Sophia paid the driver, and stepped out of the cab and into the rain. It had grown heavier during her journey and was pouring down. There was only one doorbell at the address and no nametag. She pressed it and, moments later, heard the lock buzz and a disembodied voice on the intercom.

"Come in Sophia. I'm one floor up."

The entryway was dim and Spartan. The decor held no hint of personality; she could have been walking into an office. She began to climb the stairs and as she turned halfway up, she saw him on the landing. He looked the same, and yet different. Still vaguely priest-like, but now, as she mounted the steps towards him, he seemed to have grown in stature.

The fear was back, and as she reached the last step, she had to fight not to turn back and race out the door.

"Are you alright?"

"I... I think so." But she wasn't certain.

Andrew looked at her and smiled warmly. "That was brave, Sophia."

She blushed, not knowing why, but her heart was in her throat, and thundering in her ears again.

"Come here," he said gently.

She took a step towards him, feeling strange, and foolish, and confused.

Andrew looked directly into her eyes. "There's no need for you to be frightened of me, Sophia. Let me give you a hug - just so you can feel that. Alright?"

Sophia stood rooted to the spot, but she nodded.

"Excellent," he murmured, and closed the gap between them, putting his arms around her.

He smelled of lavender and wool and rain, as if he'd been out walking on some distant moor. The arms that enfolded her were warm and secure. He pressed her against his body and held her there.

His breathing was slow and steady, and he said nothing. She waited for the gesture to be over, and for him to release her, but he didn't.

The heat and strength of his body seeped into hers. Slowly her heart stopped racing and she began to feel safe, very safe, in fact - safer than she had felt in years. Sophie released a little sob, freeing the breath she'd been holding since he'd touched her.

"That's it, Sophia."

Not for the first time, she wondered if he could read her mind. Shyly, she put her arms around his back.

"Much better. Much better now."

She nodded, her head against his chest. A hand moved from her back, and stroked the hair away from her face.

"You've had a long, long journey. Only brave women make it this far. Shall we sit down and have a talk?"

The effect of his words was immediate; it was like having a sweet, comforting blanket drawn up around her body.

"Yes, please."

* * *

When she was seated in the cosy sitting room and he'd given her a cup of tea, he too the chair opposite, relaxed back into it and crossed his legs.

The room was nothing like the entrance. Almost Victorian, a gas fire burning cheerfully in the grate and old-fashioned chintz curtains, the room was covered on one wall but a huge bookcase. Books of every shape, size and age reached from floor to ceiling. The sofa and armchairs were leather-covered and old. Their coverings were crackled and soft with wear.

For a long while Andrew said nothing. He looked at her with a kindness, a gentleness that almost made her want to weep. Sophia hadn't known what to expect of this encounter, but she hadn't expected this.

"You read a lot," she said, and then cringed at the banality of it.

"Yes. Do you?"

"When I have time. I wish I had more."

"You were doing some reading last night, I gather?"

"Yes, well. I am sorry about..."

He shook his head and clucked his tongue. "I accepted your apology. It's in the past. There's no need to ever bring it up again," he said. "But I am a little concerned about what you found."

"So was I."

Andrew shifted in the armchair. "I'm not going to suggest that everything you read was untrue, but there's a lot about our world that - how can I put it - doesn't survive the transition into words."

Her eyes slid down to the cup on her lap. "Then how can I know about it?"

"At a distance? You can't. Not really. It's experiential."

"Oh."

"And that frightens you?"

She nodded, still unwilling to meet his eyes.

"You'd be foolish if it didn't, Sophia." He sighed and shifted again. 'It's about trust. Immense trust. It's the closest bond two people can ever have, except perhaps the one between a parent and child,"

Nodding her head, she tightened her grip on her mug, feeling the heat push into her fingers. "I..." She hesitated, feeling suddenly like she was stepping through some momentous doorway. "I want to know about this. Will you teach me?"

"Do you trust me?"

Sophia's gaze rose to his, she swallowed. "I don't know."

The smile that spread across Andrew's face was one of genuine pleasure. "Good answer. An honest answer."

He pushed himself out of his chair and walked over to where she sat. The hiss of the gas fire filled the silence in the room as he crouched down beside her chair. Gently, he took the cup our of her hands and set it on the coffee table close by. Taking her hand in his, he covered it with the other. There was a terrible poignancy to the way he moved, and how he behaved with her.

"I'd love to teach you, Sophia. But there are rules."

She nodded, watching him, listening intently.

"You must be willing, honestly, to trust. It's a very hard thing to do, but without it, there is nothing. You must never pretend to trust when you don't, and you must never, ever lie to me."

Sophia opened her mouth, but he silenced her with a sharp shake of his head.

"Don't promise me anything now. Sophia. Think about it first, for a while. Tell me when you decide."

Then, he dismissed her. He didn't say in words, but that was exactly what it felt like. He had withdrawn his comfort, waiting until she gave him an answer. Politely, he walked her downstairs and opened the door. It was still raining.

"Take an umbrella," he said, handing her a sturdy, utilitarian black one.

"Thank-you, Andrew. I'll return it..."

"Bring it back with your answer. 'Yes', or 'no', it doesn't matter which. Just consider it and then be very honest."

* * *

The rest of the week flew by for Sophia. Work was busy, but even so, she thought about calling him many times. Each time she picked up the phone, she heard his admonition in her head. Could she give that kind of trust, or even honestly attempt to? Again? Could she be absolutely honest with him? And each time her lack of an immediate answer stopped her from dialling his number.

On Saturday morning, lying in bed watching the raindrops chase each other down the windowpane, she thought she was ready. Sophia bathed and dressed and had some breakfast. At ten she dialled Andrew's number, but it rand and rang without answer. At eleven, she tried again, but again no one picked up.

By twelve, she had an irrational and desperate need to hear his deep, soft voice. What if he didn't really exist? What if he'd changed his mind? What if she never found anyone like him again?

"Hello?"

"It's Sophia, Andrew. Can I see you?"

"With pleasure. Pop over now, if you like, and bring my umbrella, please."

She was so elated, Sophia left her flat in a flurry and it was only as she rang his doorbell that she realized she'd forgotten his umbrella. Well, she could always bring it the next time she came.

The door buzzed and she pushed it open, hurrying up the stairs. He was on the landing, smiling.

"Hello Andrew," she said cheerfully. This time she wasn't frightened. Any fear had been replaced by a sense of tingling excitement.

"Good afternoon, Sophia. Come up."

When she reached the top, he hugged her as he had before and she returned the gesture at once. It felt very good to have his arms around her again.

When he released her, he stepped back and looked her over once. A shadow flitted over his face, and then the smile returned. "You're wet. Come into the sitting room."

She followed him inside, and he shut the door behind her. All was as it had been before: the fire, the chairs, the books.

"Do you have something for me?"

Sophia turned smiling. "I have an answer. I will do my very best to trust you, Andrew. I think I can, I really do. And I promise to never lie to you." She could hardly get the words out fast enough, and as she spoke, an overwhelming sense of joy flooded through her.

He smiled back, and took her hand, lacing his fingers snugly through hers. "I'm immensely glad to hear that. It's a great give you have given me. But..." He cocked his head, still smiling. "Where's my umbrella?"

Sophia burst into laughter. "I forgot it. I was so...." She stopped, seeing the smile suddenly gone from his face. "I'm sorry, Andrew. I forgot it."

"Let me have your coat. It's wet."

Shrugging off the coat, she handed it to him. He shook it out and hung it on a peg by the door. With his back to her, he said, "So, the first lesson begins."

Andrew turned back to look at her. "Take your clothes off, Sophia. All of them."

He could have pushed her over with a puff of breath. "Andrew?"

"Please, Sophia. It's begun. I want you to undress completely." His voice was quiet and stern. Not mean, or impatient, but very firm.

It took her a moment to decide what to do. The fear had suddenly returned, eroding everything she'd felt before. But she'd decided, she reminder herself. She'd agreed to this. And...she was going to do her very best to trust him.

Timidly, she began to unbutton her shirt. As she removed it, he took it from her. She slipped off her shoes unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them down, stepping out of them. She handed them to him with a shaking hand.

He took them and folded them over his arm. "Don't be scared, Sophia. You're perfectly safe."

Sophia sought his gaze desperately, and he gave her an encouraging nod. She tugged her socks off her feet and balled them, folding one cuff over the other. When she stood up, his hand was out, she dropped the ball into it.

Reaching behind, she fumbled with the clasp of her bra. It always put up a fight, but this time, with her hands shaking, it was even harder to undo. Finally, the hooks released and she pulled off the bra, revealing her small breasts. The nipples stiffened in the chill, even though the room was quite warm. He folded the bra in half, and put it on top of her jeans.

Finally, she hooked her fingers into the sides of her panties, and pulled them down her legs, and stepped out of them. She stood up and handed them over.

"Thank you, Sophia," said Andrew. His voice was neutral, and his face was quite unreadable. He didn't ignore her nakedness, nor did he devour her with is eyes, the way some men had. Very slowly, and thoroughly, he looked over her body.

"Turn around."

She did. It was a relief to do it, because the blood had rushed to her face and she didn't want him to see how terribly embarrassed she was.

"And again," he said, after a long pause.

Reluctantly, she faced him, biting her lip. Waiting for some word that would relieve her of this awful discomfort.

"Well done, Sophia. No tears or arguments, no hysterics. It's a very good start."

"Thank-you," she replied in a small voice. She watched as he walked over to a table in front of the bay windows and placed her clothes on it.

"Why don't you kneel down, over there by the fire." He indicated with his head. "I don't want you to catch cold."

She went over and lowered herself onto the carpet by the fire. It was awkward to do it without using her hands, which were busy covering her breasts.

Andrew took a seat in the armchair nearest to her, looking at her thoughtfully. She felt her skin burn beneath his gaze.

"Don't cover your breasts, Sophia. You have to learn to trust that my requests aren't unnecessary and that the way I look on your body is not casual. I've seen many women's breasts, but I've never yet forgotten whom they belonged to. This isn't pornography."

She listened carefully, and then uncovered herself. Still, she couldn't look at him, she kept her eyes on the patterned carpet in front of her, but she could feel his eyes on her all the same. It was puzzling to her to be looked at in this way. Every man she'd ever been with before would be trying to put something in one of her orifices by now. She wasn't sure how she felt about this. Perhaps he found her unattractive.

"Now, clasp your hands behind your back and press your arms towards each other, as if you were trying to get your elbows to meet."

Following his instructions as best she could, it was hard to keep her balance. She realized the position caused her to thrust both her breasts and her ass out and, although at first she felt embarrassed about it, the longer she held the position, the more sensitive her breasts became. She felt the warm currents of air from the hearth brush over them.

The minutes dragged by and, just as she noticed her knees were starting to ache, despite the thick carpet, Andrew spoke: "You can sit back on your heels, if your knees are hurting."

His ability to sense what she was thinking and feeling was uncanny. It both frightened and excited her. Lowering her ass down onto her heels, she sighed her relief.

She heard him rise from the chair and looked up to see him standing over her. He crouched down, and then settled, cross-legged in front of her.

"Now, this is truly lovely. As much as you might think you are having problems, believe me when I tell you that you are doing marvellously well for a first lesson."

Sophia, unable to help herself, smiled.

"Mmm. You have a lovely smile, Sophia. And, just in case you are wondering, you have a lovely and very attractive body as well. But what I'd like to get established with you are some parameters for our time together. Understood?"

She nodded.

"I will never force you to do anything. You will either obey my request, or you won't. That will be the measure of your submission and your trust in me. If you want to comply with a request, but you find it hard to do, then you must tell me. Don't refuse just because you feel uncomfortable, only do so if you truly feel you can't. I'm hoping that will never happen and it would be entirely my fault if it did. But what I want you to promise is that you will explain why it's hard and be very honest about the reason. Yes?"

"Yes. Okay."

He reached out and smoothed her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. "Wonderful." Getting to his feet, she followed him with her eyes. He gave her a smile and a nod before he continued.

"The words we have between us are our only real bond, Sophia. We are going to learn to rely completely on each other's words. And for that reason, I'm going to punish you. I asked you to bring the umbrella, and you did not."

His voice hadn't changed at all, but Sophia was scared again. She looked down at the floor, chewing on her lip, fighting the desire to flee.

"I know it seems like a little thing, and it is. But it is a bad way to begin and we have to clear the air. I'm going to punish you, and then it will be over. It will be entirely forgotten, as if the umbrella had never existed.

"I don't know you well enough to know with any certainty what the punishment will mean to you, but I'm not doing it in anger and you will either agree too submit to it or not. So, the only question is, will you submit?"

Looking up at him, she could see he was telling the truth; he wasn't angry at all, that she could tell. "Will it hurt?" she whispered.

"Of course it will. All punishment hurts, although not always physically."

Sophia thought for a moment. This was it, she knew. Did she trust him or not. It would be so much easier if he just hadn't asked her; so much easier. Somewhere she had read that what was nice about being a submissive, was that it freed you of responsibility, but what was this? And yet, what was a little pain compared to getting undressed in front of a complete stranger? She could say no, but what would that mean. It would mean that she wasn't willing to trust him.

READ -> PART III