Enchanted Again

by Nancy Madore

  Why had she done it? It gave her no pleasure or satisfaction to wound him. She loved him so much it hurt; yet she intentionally did these things in an effort to get this reaction from him. Was it because she knew that during these moments she was the sole object of all of his thoughts and feelings, and hoped that he would become as obsessed with her as she was with him? There was nothing in the world she craved so much as to have all his energies focused on her like this; no matter that she had hurt him to achieve it, or what the consequences might be for it later.

  Marcie shifted in her seat in anticipation of the discomfort to come, aware that Bill noticed her movement and knew the reason for it. The drive home seemed interminably long. She found her thoughts drifting back to the very beginning of this extraordinary life they shared together.

  She had fallen positively head over heels in love with Bill after only four months of knowing him. She could not resist the way he cared for her; always touching her, inquiring about her interests and feelings with genuine interest, and remembering her answers in minute detail, opening doors for her, and especially the way he looked at her. His attentive manner was like a soft caress to her harried mind, and she felt protected and soothed by his very presence.

  In spite of all this, Marcie was, even back then, keenly aware of a subtle authority in Bill’s bearing that all at once aroused and terrified her. Good things were not generally said about men who were controlling of women, and the very idea was appalling after women had struggled to come so far. Yet when the control was laced with genuine concern and such tender loving care…

  Marcie was tremendously attracted to Bill’s strong, take-charge manner from the start, but she began to wonder about his feelings for her when several months passed and he still hadn’t tried to get her into bed. She began to think that perhaps his controlling nature was enacted to cover other deficiencies. Either that or he was truly in full command of his mind and body and was intentionally waiting until the right moment. Marcie’s attraction for him continued to grow while she waited to find out which of these was the case.

  The answer came one night Bill took Marcie to a very posh restaurant, where the waiters spoke in hushed tones and the guests followed suit. They were seated at a table in the center of the room, chosen by Bill, and surrounded on all sides by sophistication and elegance and quiet.

  Up to that point, Bill had made no effort whatsoever to seduce Marcie. Now his eyes sparkled as he reached across the table to capture one of her hands in his. He caressed her skin sensually as they simply smiled at each other. She felt certain that this was the moment she was waiting for, but she remained outwardly composed, curious to see how Bill would carry it off. She knew him well enough by this time to realize that he would reveal his wishes when he was ready, and in his usual direct but considerate manner that was so appealing to her. She blushed with anticipation as she keenly awaited his speech.

  “You’ve probably wondered why I haven’t slept with you yet,” he began. She remained silent, unsure how to respond, so he went on, watching her face carefully as he spoke. “It’s not for lack of desire. I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you,” he confessed, pleased by the deepening of her blush. “I’ve shown restraint because you may be reluctant to come to my bed once you hear what I have to say.” He said this in an exceedingly gentle and quiet tone, but his words might have been shouted at her for the excessive effect they had on her. Nevertheless, she rushed to contradict him.

  “I don’t need—”

  He cut her off before she could finish. “Don’t be quick to commit yourself,” he advised her. “You will want to know what you’re agreeing to before you acquiesce.” She gasped in surprise. He had caught her unawares, but even so, every word he uttered only seemed to make her ache for him all the more.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she admitted.

  “Don’t you?” he asked with a strange smile. “From what you’ve experienced with me so far, what do you imagine it would be like if you were to become intimate with me?”

  She thought about this for a moment while he waited patiently for her to reply. He, too, had been anticipating this exchange, and he wanted to savor every word and gesture from this long-awaited night. Marcie, meanwhile, was suddenly becoming aware of the man sitting across from her. She felt she was just now realizing something she had known from the first. Bill saw her eyes widen suddenly, revealing her emerging awareness, and he waited for her to speak. But she was unable to articulate this new understanding or what it meant in physical terms. The dim lights of the restaurant seemed unnaturally bright to her suddenly. Their waiter came and went, but she had no idea why.

  Perceiving her uncertainty, Bill at last intervened to draw her out, squeezing her hand gently as he spoke soothingly to her. His voice was especially gentle, melding with the hushed tones all around them. Marcie vaguely realized that he had requested the center table for a reason, but she still wasn’t certain what that reason was. “This is not a test, Marcie,” he told her. “Your answer cannot be right or wrong if it is what you feel. Have you realized yet that things would be…different, with me?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, knowing for a certainty that any intimacy she shared with Bill would indeed be quite different from any she had experienced before.

  “How, Marcie?” Bill pressed her. “How will it be different with me?”

  “We…I mean you…” The words were released in a stunted manner, but her embarrassment was slowly dissolving under his intense stare as she continued, “…will be…in…control.”

  The light in his eyes glowed with his pleasure. He had not been mistaken. She did realize what was in store for her, even if she was not yet aware of all that it entailed.

  “It’s more than control, Marcie,” he told her. “You have to know that I would dominate you.” She felt a stinging throb pierce the already soaking flesh between her legs when he said this. Heedless, he continued, “And I’m not just talking about in the bedroom. In all matters pertaining to our relationship I would make the decisions, though I would always take your wishes into consideration. And I would expect you to satisfy my wishes in return. And I would punish you when I felt it would benefit our relationship to do so.”

  Marcie was stunned speechless, so he continued, “I can promise you that everything you wish to do outside of our relationship would be encouraged and supported by me one hundred percent. I love that you are a strong, independent woman. It is only in matters relating directly to our relationship that I would dominate you.”

  There was silence. Marcie was still unable to find her voice. She stared at Bill while she struggled to identify the many emotions raging within her. It seemed she could feel her heart beating in every part of her body. Bill took a sip from his wineglass as he allowed her to digest all that he had said. Their meals were served but Marcie could not eat. She merely moved her fork over the food on her plate nervously. She knew that among the conflicting emotions within her there was arousal so potent it held her temporarily paralyzed. She struggled to gain control but failed.

  Bill watched her, perceiving her struggle but not fully comprehending the reasons for it. “You haven’t said a word. What are you thinking?”

  “I hardly know what to think right now,” she admitted. But she trembled and blushed and he attempted to read her body language.

  He laughed lightly, saying, “Let me guess, my little speech turned you on but you’re afraid of me now, too.”

  “Yes,” she admitted, laughing with him.

  “Look, it’s nothing that out of the ordinary for a woman to fantasize about being dominated by a man during sex, but it’s a whole different story when you’re talking about this as a lifestyle. I want you to know what you’re getting into right up front.”

  “I don’t know if I’m the right girl for you. I’m not the submissive type.”

  “You’re the right girl,” he assured her confidently. His self-assured, masculine manner fanned the flames that
were lapping at her insides. “The question is whether you’re ready to admit that this is what you want.”

  “I’m not sure I understand what ‘this’ is.”

  He spoke to her kindly, with interminable patience. “I’m not looking for some mindless ninny to obey my every command. I want a strong, independent woman with a mind of her own. I will control our relationship, but not because I am better or smarter or any of that. I will control it because I am stronger. I am willing and able to take responsibility for your happiness and my own.”

  “But why couldn’t we share that responsibility?”

  “We can, but when there is a conflict of some kind, or a final decision to be made it will be me who makes it. I’m not saying you can’t fight for your position…I hope you always do. I am merely warning you ahead of time that I will always win.”

  “So you’re the sort of person who has to have his own way.”

  “It’s not really about that, although that is true to a degree.” He paused, thinking of how to explain his position. “I know that you’re bright and I have a tremendous amount of respect for you. Believe it or not, I have already altered certain things in my life based on little things you have said. I can’t imagine not taking your feelings into consideration.”

  She smiled when he said this. “Then where does the control come in?”

  “You’re not going to like this next part,” he warned her. “But I have found women to be emotionally destructive to relationships when they are allowed to take the controls and dominate them. When the men in their lives are too weak to fight for what they know is right, the relationship is doomed. Next thing you know, these guys are cowering down and ‘yes dearing’ their women to death when the women aren’t even making any sense.” He put his hands up when he saw that she was going to object. “I don’t care if it’s politically incorrect or if I’m a jerk for saying it. This is what I believe. And although I would do anything for you if I thought it was in your best interest, I refuse to support destructive behavior. I particularly will not allow you to lure me into unnecessary conflict according to your moods.”

  “What makes you so certain I would even do that?” she asked, defensive.

  “I’m just warning you of what would happen if you do.”

  “And that is?” she asked, raising an incredulous eyebrow.

  “You would be punished.” He said this with a small smile, but his words carried a ring of irrevocability that Marcie did not miss.

  “Punished…how?” It was getting difficult to keep her voice down but she managed, aware that people were seated at tables all around them. Suddenly she realized why Bill had situated them there.

  “However I deemed appropriate,” he replied with an arrogant shrug.

  Marcie couldn’t suppress a laugh, even though she was assailed by conflicting emotions. Outrage was now mingling amongst the still-potent arousal and various other sensations.

  “You’re a wifebeater,” she accused him quietly. The obligatory soft tones forced her to be more explicit than she might have otherwise been.

  “First of all,” he replied calmly, “I would never cause you physical harm or strike you in a way that could lead to physical harm. Second, I would never lay a hand on you unless you agreed ahead of time to accept the fact that I might do so. That is why I am having this conversation with you. Third, you would be the one who controlled whether or not you were punished, if you think about it. You would know ahead of time that if you acted destructively, I would punish you.”

  “…without causing me physical harm,” she finished for him.

  “Exactly.” He smiled.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Sometimes a person has to be willing to take control. And often taking control can get physical. If you want to be with me, Marcie, you are going to have to come to me in my home, and on my terms. You can stay forever if you want to, but for as long as you stay, you will always have to remember that I am the head of that household. I am the last word. I want you there, I will take very good care of you and I might even change a little for you, too, but if things get out of hand I will be the one to put them back on track.”

  Marcie stared at him, stunned. She felt a grudging respect for him even though she immensely disliked the things he was saying. Her desire, however, still reigned uppermost in her consciousness. She found herself wondering what being “punished” by him would be like.

  “It’s dishonesty that I am really trying to avoid here,” Bill continued with her silence. “I will never betray you behind your back because I have allowed you to emasculate me to my face. If you agree to share your life with me, you will see that you will enjoy the simple truth I have presented to you here much more than you would have enjoyed the more traditional way people deal with each other.”

  Marcie was torn. She could definitely see that he made some very truthful and enticing points. The talk of punishment had shocked her but by no means turned her off. Bill seemed even more masculine and strong to her, in fact, and she felt an instinctual craving curling up from deep within her. On the other hand, it was all terribly frightening, too, if for no other reason than it was so unorthodox. She wished the throbbing desire between her legs would quiet down enough so that she could think more clearly.

  “Perhaps I should give you more time to think about it,” Bill suggested, perceiving her uncertainty. “It is extremely important that you realize what you will be getting into. You have to be in full agreement about this from the very beginning.”

  “Putting aside the punishment part of it—assuming I behave myself—” she blushed when she said this “—in other respects, when you say you will dominate me, what do you mean exactly?” she asked.

  “My decisions in our relationship will be final. I will use force when necessary. That doesn’t mean I expect you to simply ‘obey’ me without a fight. I expect you to fight. I would enjoy the fight in fact. But I will not patronize you. You will lose.”

  She felt a titillating thrill so powerful that she shuddered when she heard these words from him. She seemed to recall wishing once that she could find a man who wouldn’t cower from the sight of an angry woman. Men had always found her intimidating. She wondered how Bill would handle her at her most extreme moments.

  Bill paid the waiter with a self-assured ease that Marcie was all at once admiring and envious of. He was fully composed while she was aching with desire for him. In that instant she knew that she would be going home with him for that night at the very least, whatever the consequences.

  “I don’t need more time to think about it,” she announced boldly.

  Bill took her hand in his and led her out of the restaurant. They drove to his house in silence, a comfortable silence where both sat thinking their own individual thoughts. Marcie trembled in anticipation of what was to come. She had never participated in any sexual activities that deviated from the norm. She had never been tied up, or spanked, for example, although she had read about such things, and they always left her fascinated and aroused. Yet she knew that she would never be the one to suggest them. Even to acquiesce had been terribly difficult and embarrassing. She stole a glance at Bill and he smiled, reaching over to take her hand firmly into his.

  “Are you all right?” he asked her.

  “Yes,” she replied, looking away. He gently squeezed her hand.

  “Good,” he said. “Because we’re here.”

  Bill’s house was just as Marcie would have imagined it. Straight, masculine lines formed rooms that were bathed in hushed brown hues that clashed delightfully with the spatter of cold, steel-gray accessories that were spread throughout. All was in perfect order and exceedingly clean. The stark surroundings were made considerably more bearable by the disorderly encroachment of overgrowth that flowed out from the tropical plants that were placed about everywhere.

  “It needs a woman’s touch,” Bill admitted when she only stared all around her in silence. She had been thinking how intimidatingly perf
ect it already was.

  “Would you like a tour?” he asked her.

  Marcie followed Bill around his large house, noticing that he saved the bedroom for last. She shuddered suddenly as she stepped over the threshold into that room, thinking perhaps to find items of bondage within, and was even mildly disappointed to find nothing at all out of the ordinary in sight.

  Bill approached her straightaway, taking her face in his hands and tipping her head back slightly for his impending kiss. His tongue penetrated her mouth with authority as his hands moved persuasively through her hair. Marcie had the comforting awareness that she was not expected to perform or impress or put forth any effort at all. Quite the contrary, she had only to allow Bill to take matters in hand and see to it that they both were fulfilled. She wasn’t certain how she knew this, but that didn’t matter. The feeling didn’t appear to require substantiation in order to provide the incredible sense of bliss and well-being that came along with it. The feeling persisted and grew as Bill’s caress meandered lower to glide along her shoulders and back, deftly finding the zipper to her dress and effortlessly easing it open. It was as if all the self-consciousness and pressure of the event were being stripped away from Marcie’s body along with her clothing. All that remained was a feverish anticipation for what was to come and a genuine sense of freedom to experience it in absolute contentment.

  When she was completely naked Bill lifted her into his arms and placed her onto the bed. He stood over her, drinking in the sight of her, while he removed his own clothing. She lay trembling before him, instinctively knowing not to cover any part of herself with her hands, or in any way try to hide herself from his gaze. He took his time undressing, and the possessive aspect with which he perused her naked body made her gasp. When he pulled off his pants she saw that he was fully aroused.

  Bill joined Marcie on the bed, immediately capturing her lips in a passionate but exceedingly tender kiss. She was somewhat distracted and even mildly dismayed that there didn’t appear to be any dominating or punishing forthcoming—for her curiosity had been peaked by his disclosure in the restaurant—but these thoughts were quickly being diminished by the overpoweringly gentle seduction of his kiss. She was once again enthralled by the self-assured yet considerate manner that originally captured her heart. Bill’s confidence and strength seemed to become more pronounced with his mild handling of her. His earlier words were nearly forgotten but not entirely, for there were little reminders that thrilled her imagination and left her wondering. There was a conviction and determination in nearly everything he did, from the way he held her hands so carefully in his that she barely registered that she was actually being restrained in his iron grip, to the way his fingers gently titillated her tender labia while surreptitiously prying them apart. Slowly and methodically, his will became her own.