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“What did I say?” I asked warily.
“You said that BDSM relationships could often be more intense than normal relationships. You said that for a BDSM relationship to work there needs to be a deeper level of trust… and I feel that’s just part of what is required. I feel the submissive woman needs to adore and honor her Master in all ways, not just sexual. That’s why I’m not sure if I need a Master or a Mistress. I feel their sexuality doesn’t matter. If I’m so committed to the person because I want to submit and serve them, then it doesn’t make any difference to the relationship if I end up with a woman or a man… provided that relationship is a BDSM one – not a normal ‘loving’ relationship.”
“Women love their Masters,” I said with a warning. “Despite what they might think going into a BDSM relationship, a lot of women develop very strong feelings for the man they serve.”
“Exactly,” April said. “Feelings so strong that they are for the person they submit to, not that person’s sexuality, or gender. It’s intimacy without the tenderness of a traditional loving relationship.”
I said nothing.
Chapter 33.
Before going into work on Friday evening I detoured downtown and booked a room for the following night at ‘The Moncrieff’ hotel, then I went shopping for props.
From the foyer of the radio station I sent Nancy a text message.
Take a taxi to the Moncrieff tomorrow night.
Arrive at 6pm. Room 441.
Bring the list of sex toys I ordered you to purchase.
I was the first to arrive at work. I wandered around the empty halls and considered risking my life with a cup of coffee from the machine. Cecily arrived and saved me.
“Don’t drink that stuff!” she said as she came down the hall. She had a cardboard tray with three Styrofoam cups on it. “These came from a little late-night café I know. Try one.”
I took a cup and we drifted into the producer’s booth. Cecily’s face looked drawn and pale - the tragic loss of her mother still showing the traces of her ordeal in her features. She sipped at her coffee and powered up the monitors.
She was an attractive woman – quiet and withdrawn. I sensed she was the kind of person who saw a lot, but said little. She caught me watching her and arched an eyebrow.
“Something wrong?”
I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I was just thinking how good it was to have you back producing the show,” I said off-handedly. “Things run smoother…”
She smiled politely, brushing the compliment off. “Well it’s good to be back at work,” she said. “It keeps my mind off things.”
We said nothing for a while. Cecily checked the phones. Through the window we could see Duncan – the on-air announcer who worked the 8pm to midnight shift. He was just wrapping up pre-recording the end of his program. He was obviously running late. Normally the station was abandoned by the time we all arrived for work.
While I watched, the guy slowly sat back in the chair and then stretched and yawned. He picked up a briefcase and walked out of the studio. I heard him walking down the hallway, heavy lumbering footsteps, but he didn’t stop and he didn’t speak. He went right by the door and just kept on walking.
“Sociable guy,” I smiled wryly at Cecily.
She shrugged. “Radio has a habit of attracting the weird, the extroverts, and the downright fascinating,” she said.
“And what are you?”
She smiled – the first flicker of a genuine grin. “I’m one of the weird ones,” she said. “And you…” she widened her eyes and her voice became a little softer, “… are one of the downright fascinating.”
I said nothing. Cecily looked suddenly embarrassed like she wished she could take the words back. She blushed a bright color of crimson and there was a drawn out silence until I heard the foyer door slam.
April filled the booth’s doorway, bangles jingling and her hair awry. She wilted theatrically around a smile. “Thank fuck it’s Friday,” she announced in a cloud of perfume and then flounced away down the hallway, towards the studio.
Cecily grinned at me. “And there goes your extrovert!” she said.
Chapter 34.
April cued a block of commercials, drew the blinds down, and then slowly began to undress. I looked on for a moment before turning away.
I felt like watching her was to intrude on something private and secret. April was shedding her clothes, and with it, the flamboyant outgoing persona that was like her second skin. When she stood, topless and subdued in the ghostly light of the monitors, what I saw was the real woman – an intimate glimpse revealed to very few others.
She looked flawlessly feminine and somehow very vulnerable. She watched me with big soulful eyes.
I glanced at the clock while April knelt on the pillow. I had about thirty seconds before the night’s sub-club segment began. I plugged the microphone into the console jack and set it on the edge of the desk while the seconds continued to count down.
“Don’t feel as if you have to participate tonight if you don’t want to,” I told April. “If the segment becomes more than you feel comfortable doing, just wave me off with your hand. I’ll understand.”
She nodded, but I sensed she was already drifting into that sexual and emotional space where her deepest desires and fantasies laid waiting to be awakened. Her gaze was distant.
I picked up the microphone and heard a waver of jazz on the air like a familiar friend.
“Welcome to the last sub-club session for the week, my sexy submissive listeners. I hope you’ve all been good girls today, because tonight your Master is going to take you to a place of decadent lust and eroticism…” I paused for a heartbeat and caught a glimpse of April out of the corner of my eye. She was kneeling with her back straight, her breasts perfect shapes, her tummy flat, and her lips slightly parted. Her eyes were closed as if all her attention was focused on the lilting sound of my voice.
“Tonight you are going to need a chair and a scarf.” I went on dramatically. “Because tonight we’re going to do it – in the dark.”
The background music faded into a two-minute commercial break. April looked up at me like she was emerging from a trance. “A chair?”
I nodded. “Your chair will be fine – if you feel like participating.”
“And a blindfold?” She rummaged around in her bag and found a thick black elastic headband. “Will this do?”
I nodded. “Perfect,” I said.
April put the headband on and let it dangle around her throat like a loose collar. “Should I be seated in the chair?”
“Sure,” I said.
I went back on the air, keeping my voice conversational, but gradually deepening my tone and adding intensity. “Take off your bra and panties, and then I want you sitting in your chair,” I declared. “Tie the blindfold over your eyes.”
I was mindful that every chair would be different. Not all listeners would be in the kind of big leather model that April was sitting in. For many of the ladies listening, it would be a kitchen chair, or maybe just a stool, or a lounge seat.
“Once you are blindfolded, I want you to clasp your hands behind your back and imagine I have bound your wrists,” I explained. “Get yourself comfortable, and then spread your legs nice and wide for me.”
I waited for twenty seconds while jazz filled the silence. I was watching April. She had her hands behind her back and she had slid down the chair so that her bottom was resting on the edge of the seat. Her legs were wide apart. Her chair was turned so that she was facing me. Her panties were white.
And damp.
The blindfold was tight across her eyes, tugging at the tendrils of her hair, and she was breathing deeply and steadily. Each time her lungs filled, her breasts rose and then slowly fell. Her nipples were hard. Perhaps she sensed the heat of my eyes as they roamed across her body because she suddenly pinned her shoulders back another inch as if to proudly display herself, and then she licked her lips.
“You look beautif
ul,” I said into the microphone. There was a husk of passion in my voice that was not entirely forced. I walked to where April sat and stood beside her.
“Now, in the darkness, I want you to focus on the sound of my voice and the instructions I give,” I explained to listeners. “Block out everything else. Right now, all that matters is this moment. Give me all of your attention.”
April turned her head towards the sound of my voice. I reached down and grazed my hand across her shoulder. A rash of goosebumps broke out along her arm and she sucked in a soft gasp of breath like she had been plunged into ice-cold water.
“Imagine me standing beside you,” I hushed my voice until the words were a hypnotic whisper. “Fantasize about me slowly drawing my fingers over your shoulder and then across your throat. Think about how it would feel for my electric touch to drift down between your breasts to tease your nipples…”
