AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She closed her eyes and seemed as though she might drift off to sleep. I tugged on my jeans. Nancy’s eyes fluttered uncertainly open.
“Did you…?” she asked softly.
I shook my head. “This wasn’t about me,” I said. “And I don’t need to come every time we’re together. This was about you and about submission. There are going to be times when you give yourself to me, and other times when I reward you. That’s what this was about.”
Nancy frowned. She sat up slowly. There was a lingering flush of warm color across her chest and neck that only now was beginning to fade. She came up onto her knees and reached out for me. She rubbed at my cock through my jeans. I was still hard – and I would be for some time yet.
“Are you sure?” she asked. In her gaze was an ache simply to please me.
“I am sure,” I said. I stepped away from the bed, pulled on my t-shirt. I had a piece of paper in my jeans pocket. I brought it out and handed it to Nancy. “That’s a list of things I need you to get.”
She scanned the note, her gaze moving down the page quickly. At the last item she stopped and looked into my eyes with utter incomprehension.
Her voice faltered with confusion. “I can get the ball-gag and the spreader bar,” she said confidently. “And I already have handcuffs and plenty of silk scarves. I can pick up a riding crop tomorrow on the way to work… but what’s this?” her voice became kind of tremulous and awed. “What’s Vegemite? Is it like… like a special BDSM contraption that is inserted into a submissive woman’s vag–”
“No,” I said. “It’s a breakfast spread. Australians put it on their toast. You need some in your refrigerator if you ever want me to stay overnight.”
Chapter 31.
Wednesday night’s program went well, although I admit to being distracted by thoughts of Nancy. I wondered if she was in bed, and if she had pleasured herself since I had left.
I wondered how she would look blindfolded and handcuffed…
By 3am – heading into the last hour of the program – I had made up my mind to return to her apartment after the show.
Through the window behind where April sat I could see Cecily going about her work with quiet efficiency. It was different to the way Grover had run the program – everything flowed smoothly without the occasions of chaos. It was good to have her back. I watched her work the phones and wondered how I could ever have presumed that she might have been Sondra.
Maybe she sensed my eyes on her, or maybe it was just coincidence, but Cecily looked up as I was watching her and our eyes met. She smiled shyly and gave me a brief wave. I nodded and smiled back.
“She has a little crush on you. You know that, right?” April said.
My gaze flicked to April. “Who?”
“Cecily.”
“How did you… do you have eyes in the back of your head?”
She shrugged. “Women are sensitive,” she said with enigmatic vagueness. “We know things – like when another woman is making girly eyes at a man.”
“Girly eyes?”
April’s expression changed. She tilted her head a little, widened her eyes, and softened the smile on her lips. “Girly eyes,” she said again. “It’s the flirting face we make when we don’t want to come across as flirtatious.”
I smiled and shook my head. “You’re crazy,” I said. “Cecily doesn’t have a crush on me. She’s too…”
“Nice?”
I shrugged. It wasn’t the right word but it would do. “Yeah. She’s too nice.”
April smirked and pointed a warning finger at me. “It’s the nice ones you have to watch out for. They turn out to be the real tigers.”
I couldn’t resist. “And what about the loud annoying, irritating women? What do they turn out to be like?”
April’s gaze hardened – became suddenly serious. “You mean women like Nancy Collett?”
There was a long moment of tense silence. I stared back at April.
Did she know that I was seeing Nancy?
Did she suspect?
“Yes…” I said slowly. “She will do as a theoretical example. What do women like Nancy turn out to be like?”
“Trouble,” April said emphatically.
I said nothing for a long moment – April and I stared at each other across the desk. Suddenly there was a haunted, distressed look in her eyes. I read between the lines.
“Are you and Renata getting along?”
April’s lip quivered. She blinked quickly and her eyes became glassy. She became preoccupied with a flashing light on one of the monitors and I waited in the silence until her shoulders suddenly slumped and all the tension went out of her. She tried a brave little smile but it trembled off the edge of her lips.
“No.”
April was on the verge of sobbing. She took a long shuddering breath to compose herself then buried her hand in her bag for a tissue. Her expression began to crumble.
“Want to talk about it?”
April jerked her head up, then gave a hollow laugh through her tears. “Sorry!” she said. “This must seem stupid to someone like you.”
“Not at all, “ I said. I glanced at the clock on the wall again. “Let’s take one last call for the night. While I’m talking, can you schedule songs to carry us through to the end of the show?”
April nodded. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with the tissue and took a couple more huffs of breath. “Sure,” she said and then tried a lopsided smile.
April spoke to Cecily through the two-way intercom while I tugged the headphones back over my ears. I heard the end of a song and glanced up at April as her voice filled the empty space. She chatted to the incoming caller for a moment before giving me my cue.
“Hello, Wanda,” I said. “This is Jericho. How can I help you tonight?”
The woman whose voice came down the line sounded intelligent, educated, and confused. I guessed her to be in her early thirties. She said she was visiting from out of town. I doubted Wanda was her real name.
“Hi, Jericho,” she said. “I just have a question about submission and what it actually means. I have the feeling it means totally different things to men and women.”
I arched an eyebrow and nodded. “I have the feeling you could be right in many cases,” I said. “Why don’t you give me a little more detail about how you’ve come to this conclusion.”
There was a sound down the line like the caller was changing the phone into her other hand. Maybe she was walking around her house as she called.
“My guy and I have started experimenting with various aspects of the lifestyle,” she began, “but I feel we’re on two different wavelengths. We talk about BDSM and we’ve done some reading about the subject… but I always feel like, to him – my guy – this is just about sex… about how he can use me for his sexual pleasure whenever he wants.”
I was nodding as I spoke. This was not the first time the subject had been broached since I had started the program. “And for you, it’s deeper than that, isn’t it? Submission for you goes well beyond just the act of surrendering yourself to his sexual commands – and that’s why you’re not feeling the connection to the lifestyle… right?”
“Exactly!” Wanda sounded breathless with her relief. “Finally someone understands!”
I sat back in the chair, pulled the microphone closer. “Wanda, what you are feeling is not uncommon, especially if the man you want to be your Master is inexperienced. A lot of guys claim they are dominants simply because the idea of sex with a woman who will obey and submit to them sounds like an easy way to get laid. And perhaps it is… for a few days. But sooner or later the woman realizes that she is not being fulfilled… and that’s different to being satisfied.”
Maybe Wanda didn’t quite get the distinction. I spelled it out for the listeners.
“Often in the very early days of a BDSM relationship it is easy for the submissive women to enjoy powerful orgasms. That might be because of the man’s technique, but usually it is be
cause of the thrill of a new adventure – the realization of a long-held fantasy,” I explained. “Sooner or later though, many women begin to wonder if there should be something more – and there should. Women are complex characters and so much of the fantasy of submission is emotional for them. It often goes beyond sex… and sometimes the sexual aspect of submission is the facet they are least interested in.”
