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"I know you're a woman, Kate. You're an intelligent, passionate, caring woman. I respect you. I would never fuck a girl. The essence of a D/s relationship is power exchange between consenting adults. The submissive has to trust the Dominant enough to give over total control to him. In order for you to trust me, you have to feel that I truly am dominant in personality. That I can exert total control over you with confidence." He stopped his motions for a moment and turned to me, his eyes holding mine.
"You sound like a professor giving a lecture."
"I am a professor."
"Of surgery…"
"Of surgery, but I could teach BDSM. I do give lectures sometimes. You wanted to understand, Kate. You have to feel submissive for this to work. If you don't, you won't yield control to me. I have to use every weapon in my arsenal to ensure you feel it because that mind of yours is just too intelligent, too busy. When I call you girl, that reinforces the difference between us. I'm thirty five so I'm older than you. I'm more experienced. I'm more knowledgeable about sex. Most importantly, I'm able to control myself. Therefore, I'm able to control you. You can trust me to do so and you can just release yourself completely to feel whatever I decide you should feel."
He continued wiping off my body, his expression thoughtful. I said nothing, just watched him, enjoying the look of care on his face. He was totally involved in cleaning off my body, in caring for me, and that surprised me.
"Why are doing this?" I said, curious. "I could clean myself off. Isn't this a servant's job? Shouldn't I be cleaning you off?"
He paused and caught my eye. "Are you in any kind of condition to wash me?" He smiled briefly. "You turn yourself over to me completely, Kate. You allow me to restrain you, elicit intense emotions in you, make you feel strong passions and sensations, to use your body as I want to use it. You're my responsibility. My complete responsibility when we're together. Your body needs to be cleaned and tended. Your mind needs to be calmed and comforted. Doing so is my responsibility as well. Submissives can be very delicate emotionally after an intense scene. They need to be cared for. It's called aftercare. I enjoy doing it."
"So is our scene over now? We're back to normal people?"
He stroked the cloth over my thighs. "I'd prefer that when you're here, we stay in scene. Usually, I don’t have a sub stay overnight, but in this case, I don't think you should go home."
"Why don't you let them stay? Potatoes and gravy mixing with meat a bit too closely?"
He smiled but kept his eyes focused on my body as he wiped my calves. "Something like that."
"So, technically, I should still refer to you as Master."
He nodded. "I'll give you a bit of leeway since you're new." Then he threw the washcloth across the room into a laundry hamper. He knelt on the bed between my legs, his hands on his hips. "But next time, I expect perfect compliance with the terms of the contract or you'll get a spanking."
"Promise?" I said, unable to stop my smile.
"Oh, you…" He laid on top of me, his face in my neck. "That's called topping from the bottom and deserves a spanking in and of itself. Or perhaps orgasm denial…"
"Yes, please, no more orgasms tonight!" I said, giggling. Then he rose up above me, a gleam in his eye, a half-grin on his mouth.
"Ms. Bennet, I can see you need a lesson in proper submissive behavior." He reached down between my thighs to touch my clit and I gasped, cringing away from him, for I was still far too sensitive.
"No, please, Drake, don't…"
For whatever reason, my emotions were still far too close to the surface and my eyes filled with tears. I bit my lip and turned my face away. How could I move so quickly from laughter to tears?
"Shh," he said, rolling over, pulling me on top of him. He held my face in his hands, his thumb wiping my tears off my cheek. "I won't. But don't tell me what to do and what not to do. Don't even tell me what you want unless I ask you. It's not your place, Kate," he said and then added, "Katherine…" as if he, too, was having problems keeping to the terms of the agreement.
I nodded. "I'm sorry Master."
He pulled me down so that my head rested on his shoulder, one hand stroking my back gently, one hand stroking my hair. We remained like that for some time, until the strange sense of sadness drained out of me completely and a peace settled over me instead.
Soon, I dozed in his arms, immersed in the warmth of Drake's embrace, waking only briefly later, checking the alarm clock beside the bed. An hour had passed and Drake was covering us with the blankets. I closed my eyes once more.
I woke in the middle of the night and was alone in the bed. The clock radio read 3:30 a.m. and light from the moon filtered in through the sheer curtains onto the floor. I rose and peeked inside the bathroom, but it was empty. I cracked open the door leading to the living area and saw Drake sitting in the living room on a stool, his back to me, the acoustic guitar in his arms, headphones on. He was playing, but the sound was muted for the acoustic guitar was electric and was hooked into a small amp at his feet. I could hear the faint sounds of his fingers on the metal strings, sometimes sliding up and down, the sound of his fingers strumming or plucking strings.
I went up behind him while he played. He was wearing his jeans but was bare from the waist up. I glanced over his shoulder and saw he was playing the music from earlier that my father gave to his – Old Friends / Bookends. When I rested my hands on his shoulders, he startled a bit and stopped playing. I went around and stood in front of him while he removed his headphones.
"You woke up."
I nodded, my arms around my own waist, facing him, acutely aware of my nakedness.
He looked me up and down as I stood before him. "You are a vision of loveliness in the moonlight."
A blush rose up my neck and face at that and I tried not to cover up. "You couldn't sleep?"
