The Major's Pretty Baby Face

"When you get there you will go through the second door on the left. It is the one with stickers advertising the credit card they take; VISA, MASTER CARD, DISCOVER and AMERICAN EXPRESS.

Walk straight to the very back of the store. You will find rulers and yard sticks. Choose the wood yard without metal edge.

They are Amish made, durably made from a fine grained white oak and will be marked with inches and feet. Look them over carefully and select the straightest one. You will purchase it with your own money. Among other things it will remind you to walk the straight and narrow path that I require; any questions?"

"No, Mr. Wright " I answered wondering why he was sending me to buy a yard stick when several hardware stores in the area advertised with their name on them and gave them away for free?

Would that serve the same purpose as a symbol? Well, he was the boss.

"When we are alone, you may call me Matthew. Mr. Wright is a bit stuffy, don't you think?"

"Yes, that would be nice, Matthew," I was flattered that he was allowing that. Only Mary was allowed to call him by his first name and Matthew was more distinguished sounding then Matt.

"Be back in an hour, my personal secretary, Chastity," and with that, Matthew let go of my hands and went back to his desk to read over his mail.

******************************

I returned with minutes to spare. I let myself into the building and found Matthew with his feet up on his desk fast asleep. Should I wake him? He said to report to him. I touched his face, "Matthew," I actually felt a thrill saying his first name out loud and I let my hand linger there.

He opened his intense green eyes, "Ah, Chastity. I see you have the yard stick. What marvelous sight you are to wake up too," He was talking about was me, "Have you eaten, yet?" he asked, letting my hand linger, "I could eat a horse," Matthew added as he shifted position in the chair, "wow, I just got a crick in my neck."

I started massaging his neck and shoulders.....I was his personal secretary after all and it was my job to guess what he wanted. I would make it a game. A little flirting couldn't hurt and I am attracted to him.

"This feels wonderful. I know you're a vegetarian, but if you like Indian Cuisine all the bases are covered. It will be a business dinner. Oh yes, right there, harder.....good, use your fingers and keep it up."

"Indian food is fine. I like it hot and spicy. Do you mean like this?" I asked, increasing the pressure with my fingers.

"Exactly like that and I'm sure you do. We can have dinner and I will bounce some ideas and proposals off you. Will your husband mind?"

"No, he's at the football game with his brothers and father. Donald won't be home until at least eleven. Most likely he will eat at the game. I cook his meals ahead of time and freeze them when we can't eat together. He will understand."

"Excellent that is very reasonable of Donald.

I was thinking, 'Very reasonable, if you only knew.'

I massaged for a while. His eyes were shut and I could tell he was enjoying it. I finished by rubbing Matthews head playfully. There was quite a contrast between his hair and mine. Matthew's hair was like short bristles at the top. It felt very good on my hands. I was turning up the volume on the flirting a bit, and Matthew smiled and nodded. Of course he was aware of it.

"You can leave your hair down, Chastity.... better yet fix it in a ponytail for me. You may use my bathroom."

Again Matthew surprised me. Even Mary is not allowed that privilege. I walked away and he followed me holding the door open. I watched him in the mirror watching me fix my hair and touch up my makeup. I turned to look at him and shook my head letting my ponytail bounce from side-to-side.

"You flirt very nicely, Chastity. However, you are running with the big dog now," Matthew stated while stroking my curly ponytail with his hand, "obedience and submission go hand-in-hand when flirting with this big dog. Turn to face the mirror. Close your eyes and keep them closed."

Matthew let go of my ponytail. I could feel his warm breath on my cheek as he stood behind me, "It's a shame you are married, baby face. You would be a good match for me.

There is much I could teach you about submission. There is much I will teach you about flirting. You chose to turn up the volume, and now so do I. Are you up to that?

Harmless flirting goes on all the time, and especially when the attraction is mutual....keep your eyes closed, Chastity. Are you up to running with this big dog?"

"Yes, Matthew", I answered, although not quite sure what he meant.

"What color are your panties?"

"White," I answered, enjoying the game.

"What kind of material are they made from, baby face?"

"They are cotton, why are you calling me that, Matthew?"

"Because of your youthful appearance. Because of your kindness, and caring ways, but mostly because that was my impression when I first met you; you have a baby face. Like the song, "you have a pretty little baby face", I don't remember the rest of the words. That, and the haircut you had then accentuated the fact.

What do I think of your hair now?"

"You like long hair on me."

"Very good answer. You have beautiful thick hair and you will learn how to use it. What else am I thinking about your hair?

"I'm guessing you would like to see it as long as Mary's."

"Excellent, with your eyes closed, remove your under panties and hand them to me."

I did, and I could feel my face get hot. I was embarrassed and intrigued. I was getting turned on. I had never done anything like this before.

"I am rubbing your panties on my face, Chastity. They carry your scent, the sweet, rich, musky scent of a woman. I can smell your arousal in the slight dampness of your panties. This wets my appetite for you all the more knowing I can't have you. Are you aroused, baby face?"

"Yes, Matthew. May I open my eyes now?"

"You may, and then we will be leaving to have our dinner."

"But what about my panties?"

"Consider them a down payment on your debt."

******************************

I suppose this sounds cold and heartless, but we all have free will and choices to make. I knew all about Donald-dunce and guessed much about their marriage. I had him followed and investigated. I don't think much of him. It would be counterproductive to bad mouth him in front of Chastity.

Even then I found myself fascinated with her. If the dunce kept it up I wouldn't have to do a thing about it, problem solved.

******************************

The following year was a very busy one for me. Part of my job was to purchase advance tickets for various plays and musicals. I knew Matthew was seeing different women but nobody steady. He didn't discuss it and it wasn't any of my business. I was a married woman.

Matthew has me on a strict exercise program including calisthenics, isometrics and stretching. I have learned not to question his methods and I am a better person for it. I have never been in such good physical shape and I now have an exercise buddy, Mary.

Mary and I have become close. I have confided in her about my problems with my husband. Even though she never married, Mary's advice has been sound. She and Matthew do go way back.

Mary is a retired teacher and guidance counselor. She was Matthew's guidance counselor while he was in High School. She started to work for Mathew after she retired.

Mary has an extensive collection of erotic literature and photographs. I never realized Mary liked such things. She is so prim and proper on the surface. I particularly like the stories about submissive woman and dominant men which make up the bulk of her collection. I have taken some peeks in her family photo albums and school scrap books. Mary's hair was shorter than mine for the most of her life.

I have also borrowed some of the books on erotica to read out of curiosity under the strict promise to Mary not tell Matthew where I got them.

Those were the good things, and now for the bad: Donald received his first drunk driving conviction. He received four months of weekends in the county jail. They start Friday evenings at five and ending Sunday evenings at the same time.

There was a hefty fine involved and under the circumstances Donald was let off easy. He sideswiped three parked cars before ending up in the neighbor's bushes and ruining them.

Clara's health was starting to fail. My mother-in-law was going from doctor to doctor looking for a diagnosis she could agree with; losing weight, changing her eating habits and taking her medicine was not an option.

My job became my refuge. I was spending longer hours at work, very pleasant ones. I was still in charge of the little office parties and such; Matthew insisted upon that.

Matthew and I were out of the office more and more meeting with clients and prospective clients. I sat behind or beside him taking notes, or whatever else was required.

After a business meeting one afternoon, we took a side excursion to a public trout stream. Matthew began teaching me the art and discipline of presenting a coachman to the rise of a golden.

He stood close and held me in his arms while showing me how to hold my wrist rigid and arm straight to cast....

Matthew wasn't as rigid in some things as I thought. He made a point for us to do something non-business on those days even if it were simple things such as a walk in the park. Consider it a perk of the job, he said.

I always knew Matthew had an analytical and disciplined mind. It would be hard to describe how excited I was to find out that Matthew appreciated the arts.

On one occasion, our business meeting was rescheduled for the afternoon after we left to attend it. I spent a pleasant morning with him in the Albright-Knox Art Gallery. While we were there I discovered Matthew dabbled in photography.

I excitedly told him about my watercolors and drawings.

"I would like to see them, Chastity."

"I have my portfolio at home. I can bring some to work tomorrow."

"Are you good?"

"Some people think so."

"I insist on seeing them today."

"How about after six this evening," I offered, knowing Donald would be at the jail by then, "I'll get them ready."

******************************

When I arrived home, I showered and changed into a pale green muslin summer dress.

Matthew arrived at six-thirty. He was wearing snug and faded jeans that showed off his tight butt. He had on a white sleeveless tee shirt under an unbuttoned colorful Hawaiian shirt. Matthew's attire showed off his hard flat stomach and muscular torso and arms.

'God he is gorgeous,' I thought. I have never seen Matthew so casually dressed, and right down to the scuffed and beat up white sneakers on his feet. This from a man who wears spit-polished shoes.

He was very impressed with my art work, my watercolors in particular and he told me so. I never expected his response when I told him why I quit.

I saw a flash of anger in his emerald green eyes and I took a step back from him, afraid.

Seeing that I was frightened, Matthew turned away and clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. I watched him take several deep breaths to calm down and relax his hands.

Matthew spread his feet and crossed his hands behind his back as he assumed parade rest. He spoke to me quietly without turning.

"I'm not angry with you, Chastity. I say this from the heart. Your talent humbles me. To hell with me and to hell with your mother-in-law.

Your husband be damned for allowing it.

Yours is a rare gift that should be nurtured. It should not be stifled for the weak or jealous reasons of others.

As a photographer I can only record what I see with tricks of light. It is mechanical and precise. Money determines the sophistication of the equipment to control the results.

There are tried and true scientific and mathematical formulas to control and duplicate results. There are brilliant and skilled photographers to be sure. I am not one of them.

Even the most skilled award winning photographers merely records an image; they do not create one as do you.

You can take a piece of charcoal and create an image unique to you with your hands and imagination. Whether it is chalk on the side walk or watercolors on paper, you leave an earthly image of your generous and caring ethereal soul.

I....." his voice cracking as he took another deep breath as Mathew turned to look at me. I saw nothing but concern there, perhaps love. He gently took my face in his hands.

"I make no demands in this Chastity. I make this a humble request. The hell with everybody and let them be damned. Draw for yourself, Chastity, paint for your soul. There is nothing selfish in expressing and sharing your god given talent, quite the opposite. Promise me that you start again today."

Matthew kissed my lips tenderly for the first time and I thought I would faint.

"Paint for yourself, Chastity....paint for your many faceted priceless ethereal soul."

My heart was beating in my chest for him. After this moment, I could deny him nothing. I loved Mathew with all my heart and soul.

We should be together as is meant to be, our souls melted as one. I would be any woman Matthew wanted me to be, but.... here I was trapped in a loveless marriage.

He kissed my lips again, "Please, Chastity."

I wanted to tell Matthew I loved him, but I didn't. I closed my eyes to be kissed again, "Yes, Matthew, I promise with all my heart."

"Thank you," he said, kissing me one final time, tomorrow afternoon I will show you some of my photographs. I have a late appointment in an hour with Adam Richards. He builds custom fishing rods. I am having Adam build me one for steelhead.

You taste wonderful, baby face, I wish.....I'll see you tomorrow anytime around noon. Don't bother to eat lunch as that contingency is covered. Wear the dress that you are wearing now. You look lovely in it.

At that time, I had only been to Matthew's home once to get him a change of clothing when I spilled tomato juice on him.

He lives in a modest two story cobblestone house with an attached one and one half story fieldstone addition constructed almost 100 years after. There is also a fieldstone carriage house converted into a garage.

Matthew's house and fieldstone garage sits on 12 acres and is surrounded by mature sugar maples, with sprinklings of white birch, red oak, beechnut and horse chestnut.

The Erie Canal runs through the property on the north side. There is also a small spring fed pond about 200 yards from the house. Matthew has a dock on one end.

When the pond was originally dug years ago, a small island was left in the middle that adds to its charm. There are several pairs of white swans on the island that nest there. Matthew looks forward to seeing the babies hatch every season.

I must say, I have never seen so many black squirrels in one place. They are a melanistic sub-group of the eastern gray squirrel, the gray color being the most common. They are not a separate species as some think.

I purchased a new sketch pad early that morning. I planned on doing sketches of the squirrels in charcoal to show him.

I arrived an hour early and did several, saving the two best to show him.

Since my invitation to Matthew's house was informal. I wore my hair down and curled it for him. I was bold that day.

I wore bright red lipstick; I would show Matthew that I could keep up with the big dog, or so I thought.

Matthew greeted me warmly, hugging me and kissing my cheek. He was genuinely happy when I showed him the drawings of the squirrels. I could see it in his eyes.

Even when he is charming and polite there is that ever present sexy testosterone fragrance, the ever present electrical undercurrent of male dominance and discipline about Matthew that makes my skin tingle when he touches me. I am instinctively drawn to him.

Matthew was dressed as yesterday except for being barefoot and minus the Hawaiian shirt. I joined him on the freshly mowed grass, taking off my open back sandals before we had lunch on that balmy and sunny afternoon.

Matthew served me lunch on the dock overlooking the pond. He placed a glass topped table with chairs there for the occasion. We were celebrating me starting to draw and paint again.

The table was set with a linen table cloth and napkins; crystal goblets and pitchers, plus his good china and sterling silver flatware.

There was a fabulous vegetable platter. There was a nice cheese platter. There was an outstanding six bean salad marinated in an olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and garlic and lemon juice containing various spices.

Matthew served me freshly baked multigrain bread. We had ice cold milk, and of course his signature pitcher of ice water present at all meals.

Dessert was a fresh and cold fruit salad with just about every kind of fruit in it: I was a little disappointed that it didn't contain strawberries.

There was a unique and unexpected final finish to this thoughtfully planned lunch. It was hidden at the bottom of the ice chest; two small pieces of dark chocolate centered on a bed of fresh mint leaves bordered by fresh strawberries dipped in the same rich dark chocolate.

I helped Matthew carry everything except the table and chairs back to the well equipped kitchen to be washed. I learned that morning that Matthew likes to cook and bake, and so do I.

He remodeled his large kitchen to include three large deep stainless steel sinks to hold the largest and tallest pots. There is plenty of granite counter space and cup boards everywhere. He has no formal dining room, the kitchen suffices for that and is an informal meeting room for friends and family.

All his major appliances are restaurant quality including a gas stove with four huge ovens, sixteen burners and a griddle; go big or stay home is another of Matthew's sayings.

We went into the den to look over his work and I noticed Matthew's works were photographs, outdoor scenes and nudes almost exclusively.

At first, I assumed the beautiful women posing nude for him were all professional models. The individual albums were dedicated to one woman taken over a period of years.

The models often started the series of photo's fully clothed and stripped, item-by-item...frame-by-frame.....interesting.

Many of these women started out with hair as short as mine was when Mary hired me; some were shorter. As I flipped through the individual albums, organized in alphabetical order and color coded. They were simply labeled with a first name, for example: such as Helen or Janice.

I watched the women in the brown albums hair grow from short pixies or boyish haircuts to ear length blunt bobs, to chin length blunt bobs; next to shoulder length pageboys.

I watched it grow to mid-back length and then to waist length. Some of these initially short hair women had simple blunt cut bangs as they grew out their hair

The models in the green albums started out with medium to long layered hair with or without bangs. All these models in the green lost their layers as their hair grew; it was blunt cut all one length straight across just like mine; a few had simple bangs.

The women in the blue albums started out a bit plump; only one of them was really heavy. I was fascinated as I watched them lose the weight and develop nice figures.

Actually all the models figures improved to various degrees in the timeline of their photos. I also noticed that their hair was fixed in different styles as it grew out.

It might be something simple, such as changing the part.

It might be curled or pinned up. Long hair was styled in ponytails, pigtails, buns or braids, not to mention a french twist.

As I said, I found it fascinating and I was actually getting a bit aroused thinking what it would be like posing for him. I did have a nice figure now.