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“For you,” I said calmly.
Leticia backed away another step. “Jonah, I have never worn handcuffs. I… I don’t know if I feel comfortable doing this.”
I picked up the handcuffs and held them up for Leticia to see clearly. “They are perfectly safe, Leticia. Can you see the little catch? That means you can release yourself at any time. They’re not real, but they look real.”
Leticia’s wild expression remained fixed. “I don’t think I can do this,” she said.
I glared at her, my disappointment showing. “How will you know if you never try?”
Leticia said nothing, and in that moment I saw her in the same light I had seen her the first time she had come to interview me: I saw her as a naïve, innocent little girl who was desperately trying to become a woman and struggling because of her small town background and attitude to life.
“We cannot move forward until you grow up and begin to learn the art of submission,” I said calmly. “It is not my role as your master to force you to do anything you do not want, but it is your responsibility as a woman who is fascinated by the BDSM lifestyle to overcome your fears and begin to explore what you are truly capable of.”
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Leticia begging Jonah to let her come during an anticipation lesson.
The sweet agony of restraint was written across Leticia’s face, and at that moment she was perhaps more beautiful than I had ever seen her before. Her eyes were hooded, her lips parted and moist. She was panting – taking short, heaving gasps of breath that made her breasts rise and swell and press hard against the tight fabric of her t-shirt.
“Please… Please can I come?”
I eased my hand away from between her spread legs and Leticia thrust her hips urgently, as though trying to keep her body in contact with my fingers. She was wet and trembling – teetering on the precipice of an orgasm.
“Not yet,” I said softly.
Leticia threw back her head in frustration and groaned aloud. I took one of my fingers that had been teasing her clit and pussy and slid it across her lips. She sucked my finger into her mouth. “Tell me how you taste?” I asked.
I slid my finger slowly from between her lips and Leticia groaned again. “Nice,” she said.
I shook my head. “No… nice does not describe the taste of your pussy, Leticia. When you can tell me how it tastes to have the scent of you on your lips and tongue, I will let you orgasm.”
Leticia became alert suddenly, sensing a chance to be released. “I taste delicious,” she said. “I taste like honey.”
That made me smile. She had remembered a vital part of our first interviews, and I nodded my approval. “Good girl,” I soothed, “Now you can make yourself come.”
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Jonah and Caroline seduce another woman.
Caroline used her hip to push herself away from the kitchen counter and I watched the way she deliberately swayed her body as she crossed the tiled floor of the foyer and began to climb the steps to my office. She was doing it on purpose of course – swinging her legs from her waist so that with every step the denim of her shorts rucked between the cleft of her thighs as her long brown legs carried her out of sight.
I waited. I didn’t want to, but nor did I want to interrupt. I pictured Rikki like some timid, frightened forest animal, and I worried that she may be startled away from the snare of Caroline’s charms. Ten minutes passed; ten long, agonizing minutes of frustrating silence, where my thoughts and imagination went into overdrive as I stared up expectantly towards my office door. I pictured Caroline unbuttoning the front of Rikki’s dress and imagined my submissive’s mouth exploring the soft flesh of Rikki’s throat as she trailed her lips down towards the shape of Rikki’s breasts. Erotic images of the two beautiful young women, entwined together in a tangle of long, brown limbs, swam before my eyes. I imagined the dampness of their sweating bodies, leaving perfumed soft wet marks across my desk.
I took the stairs slowly, drawing out the anticipation of what I might find when I pushed back the office door. I lingered on the threshold, and counted to ten. I could hear muffled, strained sounds from beyond the door. I heard a soft, breathless moan of desire and the rustle of fabric. I heard a sudden, sharp intake of breath and then a woman’s whispered voice.
I pushed open the door slowly – it swung back on noiseless hinges and revealed my upstairs office bathed in a shaft of warm sunlight through the window. Tiny dust particles hung suspended in the air, and my eyes followed the shaft of light to the two young women’s bodies wrapped around each other on the soft leather of my office chair. Both of the women were naked. I could see Caroline’s back, her long brown hair swishing across her shoulder blades and the perfect arch of her spine down to the narrowness of her waist and the flare of her hips. She was sitting astride the naked body of Rikki who was leaning back in my chair with Caroline straddling her lap. I watched in silence as my submissive’s head dipped lower, and then heard the two girls moaning softly around a long, passionate kiss.
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Jonah in a business meeting.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You’re the one who screwed this deal up.”
“No,” the man shook his head, seeming to cringe under the blowtorch of my gaze.
I circled the room, and the man’s head swiveled to follow me.
“I worked on this deal for six months,” I said. “I organized the financing, had all the banks in place, and now I find that you have double crossed me. How do you think I feel right now?”
“Honestly,” the man made a pleading gesture with his hands, “Mr. Noble, it wasn’t me.”
I slammed my fist down on the desk. “Liar!”
The man flinched, and his face went white. There was a nervous twitch at the corner of his eye, and a light sheen of sweat across his brow. His face looked waxen, as though carved from marble.
“You’re lying to me,” I hissed.
The man went rigid in his chair, and then slumped dramatically. His shoulders bunched, and his expression became stricken with fear. He nodded his head slowly. “Okay… yes… I betrayed you.”
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Jason Luke and Jonah discussing women.
“Women marry men thinking that they can change them,” I said. “And men marry women hoping they will never change.”
Jason Luke stared at me hard. We were sitting across a table from each other in a busy downtown restaurant.
“Very profound,” Jason Luke inclined his head. “But not very original. They are my thoughts you are repeating. In fact, every damn word you say comes out of my head. Don’t you realize that?”
I stared at the author but said nothing, and I realized with a sudden shock that it was because he had stopped writing my lines. Jason Luke smiled and arched an eyebrow pointedly. “So in future, Jonah Noble, you will show me a little more respect… otherwise the very next thing you will do is stand up on this table in the middle of this restaurant and announce that you’re a female cross-dresser who has a fetish for flowerpots.”
I went white. The bastard had me.
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Jonah and Leticia talking about feelings.
Leticia paused and turned her head towards me as though trying to see me in some new light. “You’re not like other men I know, Jonah,” she said thoughtfully. “Most men aren’t so open about their feelings and emotions. It’s been my experience that men tend to shut down rather than discuss what’s bothering them. Most men I’ve met in my life feel like they need to bottle everything up – solve everything themselves.”
I shrugged. “Leticia, I’ve always believed that a problem shared is a problem halved. If I have something that’s bothering me and I confide in you then somehow the problem seems less. Oft
en talking about a problem with someone I trust can give me a new perspective.”
Leticia nodded. “Most men don’t seem quite so smart.”
I smiled. “I can’t expect you, or anyone else to read my mind. That is why I have always believed it’s best to say what is on your mind, and express those thoughts in a clear, articulate way, so there can be no confusion and no misunderstanding. Some people find my attitude confronting. I just call it honesty.”
Leticia smiled, and it was a slow warm smile of appreciation and understanding. “Jonah Noble, I think God broke the mold when he made you.”
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Jonah loses his temper.
The instinctive urge to kill rose up within me like a dark, unholy rage. I felt my hands bunch into fists and I screwed my eyes tightly shut. I could clearly imagine my hands wrapping tight around the man’s throat, my fingers squeezing remorselessly, coming slowly together as my thumbs crushed his larynx. In my mind I saw the man’s face turning purple, saw his eyes beginning to bulge as I crushed the life out of him. I heard the sawing rasp of pained breathing, and I clung to the image fiercely until, at last, I opened my eyes and saw the man still standing there.
He was sobbing.
I unclenched my fists, and with a tremendous effort of will, I cast off the murderous urge. The mist of red rage went from my eyes and I took a deep breath. In an instant, I changed, and suddenly I was icy calm, and all the more menacing because of it.
