Mastering the Virgin Box Set Five: A BDSM Ménage Erotic Romance

Chapter 45

“Why? There just is.”

Stiffly, he stands, opens a drawer and takes out a piece of chalk, then to her baffled expression, passes

it to the girl. He gestures her across the room to a table where among papers and paraphernalia, sits a

globe of the world. He spins it experimentally.

“Very well Jenny. Let us take what you know and apply it.” He gestures her to the globe. “Carefully, you

will chalk a triangle onto the surface here. Any triangle, you choose, but keep the sides as straight as

you can to create a true triangle.”

Perplexed and frowning, she picks up a straight edge and chalks a triangle, joining a couple of random

points on the equator with the North Pole. As she does so, the tip of her tongue protruding as she

works to keep the lines straight, Mr Kalkowski takes a protractor from another drawer, then passes it to

her.

“Now measure the angles.”

She measures, mutters to herself, then frowns. She measures again.

“What is your answer?”

“About two hundred and fifty. It’s hard to be exact with it not being flat.”

“Of course. And what do you make of that?”

She surveys her handiwork. “Um…. Those two angles have to be ninety degrees each because they’re

drawn straight up from the equator to the pole, so the angle at the pole has got to be extra…. so…. The

answer can’t be a hundred and eighty. It always has to be more.”

“Quite so. And perfectly deduced I might add. There Jenny is the difference between scholarship and

education. The scholar may know many things, a great list of the knowledge of the world of humanity.

You knew that there are one hundred and eighty degrees in a triangle, but when faced with the reality,

you arrived at a correct answer.”

“A correct answer?”

He continues “This is an illustration of the difference between Euclidean geometry and non-Euclidean. I

was being unfair in my original question because I knew you would assume a flat surface. This is what

you were taught when you were at school.”

“Does it matter?”

He huffs. “It certainly matters if you are trying to navigate a globe rather than a flat Earth. In fact, it was

from these sorts of discrepancies that Columbus knew he was trying to sail around a sphere.

However.…” He sniffs. “…. Columbus also tampered with the figures, for political reasons, and

produced an incorrect answer for the size of the globe. It enabled him to obtain the funding to launch

his expedition. In fact, it was known in Greek times that the world was spherical and they had a very

good approximation of the size….”

Jenny stares at him. “Mr Kalkowski, why are we talking about geometry?”

His eyes slide to hers and his lips curve to a small smile. “Always the right question, eh Jenny?”

He reaches for his pipe and tobacco pouch.

Jenny watches him, this ritual of his she has seen so many times. And she knows this is her teacher’s

way of filling the space while he finds his words.

She seats herself again, and she waits.

And as blue smoke curls from the pipe, he joins her and sits also, the tobacco a glowing ember as he

draws.

“Why are we talking about geometry? I was trying Jenny, to create…. Let us call it a parable. You knew

the answer to the question. And the answer was correct, for a given situation, a given paradigm.

Change the paradigm and the answer can be entirely different.”

She stirs, beginning to understand. He continues. “For you, the old paradigm was childhood, a belief

that this was the place you should be. That a simple life as a wife, perhaps a mother in this simple

place, would suffice you. Now you know this is not true. You have a new paradigm. New answers. A

new way of seeing the world.”

He takes the pipe from his mouth, looking at it for a moment. “It is a bad habit, I know. The doctor tells

me I should not do it, but at my time of life…. I have seen and experienced, I think, everything I have

wished for.”

He points the pipe at her, punctuating his words with the movement. “Jenny, your life is ahead of you.

You say you believe you should leave. I believe you are correct.”

She holds up her hands, palms to heaven. “What should I do? I don’t know….”

The old man puffs a curling ring of smoke. It spins, a writhing vortex in the air, then disperses. “The

Greek philosopher Plutarch said that the mind is not a vessel to be filled but a fire to be kindled. Here,

Jenny, you have learned. You have been taught. But when you are truly educated, you learn to think.”

“You still think I should go to university?”

“It is what I have always believed Jenny. It was not my place to interfere when you decided to marry

Chad, but now….”

Thoughtful, she pours another cup of tea, tilts the pot to her mentor. He nods, and she pours a second

cup.

“How would I do it?”

“I retained all the forms and other information from when you were first going to apply. You have only to

use them.”

“You didn’t throw them away?”

His eyes crinkle. “No, I did not.”

Her eyes fall on the cake again. It’s awfully good. Mrs Collier bakes wonderful lemon drizzle cake. She

cuts another thin slice for herself, then another for Mr Kalkowski.

“It’s awfully expensive. How would I raise the money?”

“Perhaps you will have to work for a while, save for the fees. I have a little money, Jenny. I am happy to

contribute.”

She shakes her head. “No!” Her refusal is violent.

She blushes, moderating her tone. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. But I’ve lived on charity long

enough….”

“This is not charity, Jenny. Merely…. a gift between friends.”

Stubbornly, she looks away. He sits forward, tilts up her chin with a finger, angling her face to his.

“Jenny, I have no family. No children.” He gestures around the room, his hand trailing smoke as he

does so. “I have all I need here, and I am an old man. Let me do this for you. Yes, no?”

Still she hesitates. “Let us say instead then,” he continues, “that it is a loan. You will pay me back when

you are able…. Please, Jenny. Let me do this. Let me help.”

And finally, she nods, her smile slight.

“Good,” he says. “It is not much I fear and will by no means be enough. But it will be a start. If nothing

else, it will help you eat and live while you find your feet in the outside world.”

Her eyes flood again. “I don’t want to say goodbye, Mr Kalkowski.”

“I am sure you will come to see me, to visit. Perhaps when you have reached your university. You will

come back and give me your news. In the meanwhile, you can write to me. I would enjoy reading your

letters.”

“I’ll do that, I promise. I’ll come to see you again before I go.”

“You do that Jenny.”

*****

James

Charlotte detests the work on accountancy. She doesn’t have to do a lot of it, but Richard’s right. If she

wants to make any headway in the corporate world….

…. and she does….

Then she’s got to learn at least the basics.

Not that I don’t sympathise with her. For me also, running the financials is a necessary evil, but

sometimes the medicine doesn’t come sugared and we simply have to drink it down straight.

Still, she’s been at it for a good couple of hours, sitting on the carpet and….

…. to my great satisfaction….

…. leaning back against Michael on the couch, working through the text Richard gave her, scrawling

notes and occasionally either tapping into a calculator or….

Does she know she’s doing it…?

…. tapping her fingers as though counting.

Michael radiates contentment like a cat that’s found the warm spot. He has a book in one hand, but if

he’s reading it, I’ll plait fog. Every thirty seconds, his eyes slide down to the red-haired beauty next to

him and his fingers wind through her hair.

Perfect….

She sighs….

Two hours is long enough….

…. Her concentration will fail….

I look across to Michael, wait for him to notice me, look down at our mermaid, then cock a brow.

His eyes crinkle then slide down. “Charlotte, how about a break?”

The accountancy text is instantly abandoned. Her head tipping back to look up at him. “Sounds good.

What did you have in mind?”

He head-tilts towards me. “I believe your Master is trying to attract your attention.”

Cat-like, she slides, stretches and stiffens against him bringing her emerald eyes to mine, full-beam.

I rise, crossing the room to stand over her, looking down. And her eyes never leave mine as I move.

Michael whispers something to her. I don’t hear the words, but her breath catches and her pupils

expand. Whatever he said, my cock approves the result, jolting to life and making my trousers a tight

fit.

She glances back at him. “Me?” he smiles. “Oh, I’ll think I’ll get on top of you; push my cock inside and

fuck you hard. Make you scream a bit.”

His fingers knot into her hair, piloting her face to my groin. His gist is obvious enough….

…. And just what I’m in the mood for….

My zipper is tight and has to be persuaded open to release my erection. Michael is controlling her,

forcing her….

Not unwillingly….

…. In my direction….

And she’s got that look, the one I love, Michael too. That combo of come-fuck-me and invitation that

sends the blood rushing to my groin and my pulse-beat off the scale.

“Your Master wants your mouth wrapped around his cock,” says Michael. “Open up.”

I’m already oozing, a little precum to rub over her lips making them gleam as I push myself to her

mouth while Michael holds her head fixed.

“Lick,” he says. “Get your tongue around him. And then we both want to see you taking him well in.”

His words are working magic on her and that’s working magic on me. As her lips fasten around my

cock-head there’s the tang of wet pussy in the air. Michael scents it too, his nostrils flaring and his head

angling to watch her suck me off.

She’s keen, eager, one hand encircling the base of my shaft, steadying her stroke as she slides back

and forth over my length, and incidentally increasing the pressure. Her other hand works at my belt,

fumbling a little as she tugs the leather through the buckle.

I’m streaming down and having to resist the urge to simply release. I’d prefer to extend the moment,

stretch out the view of my Jade-Eyes licking and lapping at me, sucking away my flow.

I want to see more of it. I pull free of her for a moment, wiping my cock over her face to trail viscous

threads of precum over her skin. They trail and fall, glistening over her mouth and clinging to her chin.

Michael is enjoying the show, his jeans bulging to the fore. “Clean your lips,” he says. “Lick them clean.

You mustn’t have dirty lips when you are sucking off your Master.”

She obeys him, sucking at her lips, eyes sliding sidelong towards him. “No, pay attention to what you

are doing. Look up at James. He notices if you let your attention wander.”

Too fuckin’ right….

Her eyes flick back to mine.

My cock…. Sliding way in…. and out…. and in….

More….

I stand back, releasing myself from her mouth to stand hands on hips, and enjoying the dazzle of green

eyes and siren-red hair, wait.

Michael’s eyes flash to mine and his mouth quirks. His hand still fisted into her hair, he stands, taking

her up with him. “Stand up,” he says. “Your Master wants you naked.” She staggers, but he doesn’t

release his grip until she’s upright and facing me.

Her bosom heaving like the dowager duchess of some regency romantic novel, she reaches for the top

button of her blouse, slipping it open, but Michael interrupts her.

“Did I tell you to move?”

His arms loop around her, opening the blouse, his movements rough. As he rips the blouse backwards

from her, I reach around the other way and, unclipping her bra, tug it away from her equally ungently.

Stooping to take a nipple in my mouth, I teethe at it. She hollers, but the blush of arousal is spreading,

hot and scarlet across her tits and stomach and she smells wonderfully of slick and fragrant juices.

Michael strips her, handling her, almost mauling her as he tugs off her skirt and panties. I entertain

myself teething at her tits, enjoying her mewls and occasional yelps as I nip and nibble.

By the time she’s naked, she’s hot, pungent, panting and her thighs are gleaming. Placing my palm on Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

her chest I tilt my head in a silent instruction to stay put. She shows no sign of any movement more

than the rapid rise and fall of her chest and the slight heart-beat vibration of her breasts.

She sees as Michael and I exchange eye signals, but she’s used to that now, and simply stands,

panting as we undress. As soon as he’s down to skin, Michael, his erection pressing into her spine

pulls her backward onto the couch, pinning her against himself….

…. And she’s a gorgeous sight….

I want to watch her for a bit.