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nd your back.”
April followed the instruction. I left a moment of deliberate dead air as though I was waiting for the thousands of listeners to do the same.
“Good,” I said. “Seeing you in that pose pleases your Master. This is the pose you will adopt for me at the beginning of future segments because it gives me access to your body – and that’s what I want. I want to admire you. I want to walk slowly around you and run my fingers across the soft skin of your shoulder, and hear your breath hitch in the back of your throat with sensual anticipation…”
I glanced again at April. She was watching me, her eyes slowly slanting with the first traces of her own smolder of arousal. She was kneeling with her back straight, the flame red color of her hair a stark contrast to the milky pale tone of her flesh.
“Thrust your breasts out for me,” I said. “In this position you are presenting your body to your Master. I want to know you are proud of your curves, and confident in your ability to serve and submit.”
Another instant of pause – just a single beat before I went on.
“Now open your mouth,” I said softly. “Open your mouth wide for your Master so I can see how eager you are to please me.” The words across the airwaves were a deliberate caress of gravelly sound, firm but not demanding. It was important that the women felt seduced, not demeaned.
I saw April open her mouth wide, and the pink tip of her tongue licked her lips glossy. “That’s right,” I said. “That’s beautiful. It shows your Master that you are willing and wanting. I like that. I like knowing my submissives are eager to feel their Master’s hard shaft slide across their lips as they take me in their mouth...”
I saw a flicker of movement from the corner of my eye and glanced up. Beyond where April knelt, Grover was suddenly standing with his hands pressed against the window, his eyes wide, his ragged breath leaving little clouds of fog on the glass. He was like a prisoner, denied the sight of a beautiful woman for too many years. He stared hungrily down into the studio at where April was kneeling, his face twitching with perverse arousal.
I bounced out of my chair and pulled down the blinds, shutting April and I away, deepening the darkened isolation of the studio so that it seemed – in that moment – that we were alone in the world. The jazz music in the background wavered through the air like a slow flowing river, the sound lulling and almost hypnotic.
“Now I want you to think about me,” I said softly into the microphone. “Think about me standing before you, my hands on my hips, the clench of my hardness in my jeans unmistakable. Imagine how much it would satisfy you to please your Master. Imagine the pleasure you could bring me with the skillful use of your mouth…
“I want you to visualize me before you, your face turned up to mine, your mouth open and willing, and an eager, wanting look in your eyes. That’s what arouses me – the look on a woman’s face as she offers herself totally and completely. The more real this experience is for you, the more intense the emotions you should be feeling right now. Concentrate. Picture me in your mind…”
I saw April slowly close her eyes, and a tiny furrow of concentration creased her brow. I watched her for several moments as the background music ebbed and flowed.
“Now I want you to fold forward at the waist,” I said. My voice stayed carefully modulated – firm but not insistent – the harsh edges of each word smoothed away by the softness of my tone. “Put yourself on your hands and knees, with your back arched, and your head lowered.”
I looked across at April. For an instant she didn’t move – it was as if she had drifted into some kind of hypnotic trance. Her eyes came open slowly, blinked and focused. She flicked a dreamy glance at me and then bent her body forward so that she was in position.
“Good girl,” I said. “Arch your back for me.”
April arched her back. With her head lowered, her ponytail had fallen forward so that it hung beside her face.
“Now reach back between your spread legs with one hand,” I commanded, “… and touch yourself.”
I let the music swell to fill the silence. April moved like she was mesmerized, shifting her weight and balance, and then her fingers began to drift down across her abdomen until her palm was pressing through the fabric of her slacks. She rubbed at the mound of her sex and I saw a tiny shudder of something sensual ripple along the length of her spine.
“Visualize me watching you right now,” I spoke into the microphone, trying to make each word a caress. “Fantasize about your Master and how much pleasure your obedience gives. Slide your fingers inside your panties until you can feel the damp slick heat of your pussy.”
April continued to massage herself through her slacks. I heard her inhale a deep shuddering breath.
In the darkened seclusion of the studio I imagined women across the city pleasuring themselves in the privacy of their own homes. In the silence, the only sound was the soft purr of music and April’s breathing, now becoming irregular and ragged.
“Feel the heat of your arousal,” I encouraged the listeners. “Touch your clit and explore the softness of your folds. Imagine me watching you, my eyes hot with sudden hunger for you as you slowly bring yourself closer and closer to the edge of orgasm…”
I glanced up at the clock. My timing was perfect. I let the music play for a few seconds longer and then suddenly said, “Now stop.”
April’s head lifted and she shot me a look of confusion. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted and glossy. I could see the movement of her shoulder blade beneath the flawless skin of her back as she continued to use her palm between her spread legs.
“That’s enough for our first night together, my sensual submissives. Your Master has not given you permission to come,” the tone of my voice altered in an instant, transforming into a firm warning. “You will not orgasm until I allow you – control of your pleasure is one of the most precious gifts a submissive offers to her Master when she surrenders to him. I now have that authority and the power of your release. You will only orgasm when I allow you. That may be tomorrow night… so be sure to tune in to our next sub-club session together. In the meantime, I want you all to stay wet and willing and wanting…”
I saw April clamber unsteadily to her feet. She was trembling. She flashed a heated glare at me and snatched up her sweater. She thumbed at the keyboard and soft rock filled my headphones. I sat back and let out a long breath of relief.
April had one hand on her hip, her eyes fixed on mine. Her breath was coming in little pants. “You could have at least let us – them – come,” she was flustered with incredulity and irritation. She tugged on her sweater and seized her handbag. “Fifteen minutes of music,” she hurled the comment over her shoulder as she went storming unsteadily out through the studio door towards the ladies’ room. “It’s already programmed… asshole.”
Chapter 13.
I went into the producer’s booth. Grover was leaning back in his chair with his feet up on the desk, ankles crossed casually. He had the phone to his ear, talking quietly. I stood in the threshold of the doorway for a moment, listening. The conversation sounded private. He made a grunting sound and then scraped his fingers through his hair. I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me, loud enough for him to hear the sound.
Grover’s head spun round and he gave me an awkward sheepish look. He sat upright, muttered into the phone and hung up. He turned in his chair, his expression guilty.
“Hey, man!” he said with too much enthusiasm to possibly be genuine. “Great program. Really dug the whole submissive club thing. That was gold.”
I stared at him for a moment, and then my gaze flicked past him to the bank of monitors that listed incoming calls. The screens were full.
My eyes came back to Grover’s. “April was helping me with the segment,” I said in a careful voice. “She was acting out the instructions I was giving on-air to make sure the whole scene would be realistic and detailed for the listeners. You, standing against the booth window like a lecherous
deviant, didn’t help.”
I paused for an instant and my expression became menacing. Grover’s mouth opened and he tried to form a smile but the expression wouldn’t take hold and slipped nervously off his lips.
“If you ever do it again, I’ll fucking gut you.” I said.
The color drained from the man’s face. His eyes filled with skittering shock and then became shadowed. He bobbed his head and licked his lips. I could see his Adams apple working in his throat.
“It was just a joke,” his voice was reedy.
“I’m not laughing.”
Grover nodded. “No,” he said. “No, you’re not…”
Chapter 14.
April came back from the ladies’ room after about ten minutes. I was waiting for her in the studio. She dropped her handbag beside the desk and fell into her chair. She glanced up at the clock, made a mental calculation, then skimmed her eyes across the glowing monitors. She seemed satisfied. There was still music playing, and a couple more songs still cued. She glanced at me, and her expression suggested she had something she wanted to say – words she had been rehearsing.
She leaned forward earnestly, clasped her hands together and set them on the desktop.
I waited.
“You’re very good,” she said like it was a grudging admission. “Besides the looks and the voice… you’re actually very good, and I don’t know why. I don’t know if it’s the words you use, or the way you say them… but I recognize that every time you open your mouth there is a raw sexuality and power that radiates from you, Jericho. It’s a control – a presence…” her voice trailed off as though she had run out of her prepared speech and was now unsure how to proceed. She flapped her hands and just looked at me.
“Thanks,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t handle compliments well. They made me feel awkward. I shrugged off her praise, but April seemed not to have heard me. She went on as though I hadn’t spoken.
“I was angry with you tonight – that segment was humiliating… for a few minutes.”
