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“Really?” I shrugged my shoulders in a gesture of dismissal. “I’ve never been a believer in clairvoyants…”
“So, you fuck women who submit to your demands, yes?” Renata interrupted abruptly from the corner of her mouth, changing the subject with the kind of brusqueness that I was beginning to see as typical of her personality. The match flared, highlighting her wide penetrating gaze for an instant, and then she inhaled deeply and blew a plume of smoke at the ceiling.
She waved the match in the air until it went out, and April dutifully handed her an ashtray.
“I guess you could say that,” I conceded. “But that’s not how I would say it.”
“Oh,” Renata arched an intrigued eyebrow like she was interrogating me. “How would you say it then?”
I met her gaze steadily. “I treat those women who want to submit in a respectful manner that ensures we both benefit from each experience – sexually and emotionally,” I said. “Sexual domination – being a woman’s Master – is not a permission slip to be a brute or an abuser. A woman’s submission is a gift, and it’s something that must be handled carefully. It’s a fragile thing, built around trust. If you drop it even once, then the gift is shattered and can never be restored.”
Renata narrowed her eyes. She rolled the cigarette between her fingers. “You are talking about trust,” she said. “And by that you are really saying that submissives must be respected, yes?”
“Yes,” I said. I flashed a glance at April. She was sitting close to Renata, their shoulders touching. April had her head turned. She was watching the German girl with a rapt look of adoration lighting up her eyes.
I looked back at Renata. “If you are interested in the lifestyle, and if you wish to learn how to treat and train April as your submissive, you need to remember the relationship you have, and ensure it always remains more important than the roles you develop,” I said. “Don’t make the mistake of ever assuming April exists to serve you outside of the time you dedicate to sex play. That would be a mistake.”
Renata nodded. She crushed the cigarette out and shifted her weight in the beanbag so that I could see all the way up the length of her thighs. She wasn’t wearing panties.
“But some people live these lifestyles, correct?”
Everything she said ended with a question. Perhaps that was the German in her.
“Yes they do,” I agreed. “But those relationships often begin with that understanding. You are talking about taking an existing, loving relationship, and altering the balance of it. All I am saying is that you should be careful how you proceed. Don’t veer so far off course that what you already have is destroyed, or broken beyond repair.”
Renata nodded. Her gaze was cool, yet fascinated. She was intrigued in what I had to say, not interested in me. She nodded her head in thoughtful understanding for several seconds.
“Do you like art?’ she asked at last.
April cut in quickly, her words like the gush of a proud parent. “Renata is working on her first exhibition,” she explained. “A series of works that explore the emotion of agony.”
I looked blank. “Is it abstract art?”
Renata nodded her head. “Yes,” she said. As she answered, her hand absently reached across and rested high up on April’s thigh. It was a possessive thing – a reflex – but I noticed.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand abstract. I’m a simple guy.”
Renata gave me the hint of a mocking smile. “Then tell me simply what I must do to give April the same submissive experiences she shares with you. No abstract answers,” she insisted. “Just tell me.”
I could see Renata offending a lot of Americans. Her nature and the language she used was curt and abrupt. It was almost confronting. It was something I was accustomed to – Australians can be pretty blunt in expressing themselves – but I imagined it made her hard to like as a friend.
“Tease her,” I said. “That would be a start. Make her want to give herself to you. You can’t just stand over her and demand submission. You need to weaken her will to resist, in the nicest possible way, and then reward her generously when she does.”
Renata frowned in thought and then uncurled her long legs and got to her feet. She unbuttoned the shirt and stood shamelessly naked in the middle of the living room. Her pussy was shaved smooth, her breasts pert and firm. She stood still for a moment and then sauntered to the far corner of the room. She dropped into the chair and spread her legs wide.
“Come!” she snapped her fingers at April. “Lick my pussy.” She reached down between her parted thighs and pulled the soft lips of her sex open. April crawled across the floor and dipped her head dutifully between Renata’s legs. Renata sucked in a sharp breath and looked across the room at me with a smug smile of satisfaction.
“Yes?” she asked.
“No.” I said.
Renata’s expression turned dark and confused in an instant. She sat upright and clamped her thighs together. April sat back, frowning.
Renata got to her feet and her hands went to her hips. “What was wrong? She did as I told her.”
“Yes,” I said, “but you forgot the most important part of the process – you forgot your submissive.”
Renata looked incredulous and I got the impression she was unaccustomed to being told she was wrong. There was the petulant air of a spoiled child about the way she pursed her lips.
“Show me,” she demanded.
Normally at this point I would have told anyone who spoke to me like that to fuck off… and the words leaped quickly to my lips, before I caught the bewildered plea on April’s face. I choked back the words and got to my feet.
I turned to April. “You will need to strip down to your underwear.”
“Do it, Liebling,” Renata insisted.
April undressed quietly, and when she was in her bra and panties I ordered her to her knees in the position we had been practicing during the sub-club sessions.
I turned to Renata. “What you just did was no different to a guy who just wants his cock sucked,” I said. “You wanted your pleasure so you ordered April to satisfy you. That might be fine in a few months time when you have established your roles and you demonstrate that her satisfaction matters to you. But right now, it was selfish. Nothing more.”
“But she did it!” Renata said with a theatrical flourish of her hands. “She obeyed me.”
“Out of duty, not out of desire,” I said. “It’s like a couple that has been married for twenty years who have sex once a week. The woman rolls onto her back and the man grunts above her until he comes. The woman does that out of duty to the relationship. Desire is something else entirely.”
Renata saw my point, but didn’t admit it. I saw the understanding in her eyes but she was too arrogant to concede her mistake.
I went towards where April was kneeling. “Open your mouth,” I said. It was a command and April obeyed me instinctively. I stepped closer and pressed the bulge in my jeans against her face. “Feel me,” I said, softening my voice so that it was thick with passion. “Feel how hard my cock is through my jeans. Use your mouth and your hands. I want you to rub me until I’m aroused.”
April’s hands came from behind her back and she pressed her palms against the swelling length of me. Through the thick denim I could feel the teasing exploration of her fingers. Then she pressed her mouth against my jeans and her hot breath radiated through the fabric.
“I’m going to fuck you tonight,” I said, my voice deep and commanding. “I’m going to fill you with my cock, but I need you to be ready for me. I want you wet and mad with desire before I bend you over and take you. Do you understand?”
April lifted her face to mine. Her eyes were enormous, glazed with desire. Her lips were parted, and she was panting softly. She nodded her head.
“Good girl,” I purred. I dropped down to my haunches and ran my hand possessively over her breasts, cupping each one through the lace of her bra, and then reaching
down inside the waistband of her panties until the tips of my fingers were just an inch away from the bud of her clit. April sucked in a deep breath so her whole belly concaved. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut and she swayed as though she were teetering on the verge of a precipice – praying she would be carried over the abyss.
“Are you wet?” I whispered in her ear.
She swallowed hard and then licked her lips. “Yes!” she gasped.
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
“Yes.”
“Will you be a good girl?”
“Yes!”
