by Nancy Madore
Marcie could do little more than cling to Bill as he skillfully and persuasively mastered her body. He took his time discovering all the little nuances of pleasuring her, gauging not only the places she liked best to be touched, but also the intensity and pressure that she preferred as well. Marcie lay back in a kind of delirious stupor, thoroughly captivated by Bill’s seductive efforts on her behalf. He used his fingers, and then his lips and tongue, to lure her into a state of utter arousal. Once he had her fully impassioned, he let his tongue roam leisurely over her clitoris, again and again; pattering and prodding it until she felt the molten waves of exquisite pleasure roll over her. She cried out in stunned surprise.
Once this first passion had passed, Marcie lay dazed and pliant as Bill moved up over her and lovingly took her into his embrace. Forgotten for the moment were all thoughts of dominance as Marcie’s body melted around him. He made love to her with such thoughtfulness and consideration that it was impossible to imagine him any other way. Marcie fell in love with him all over again.
And for the first few weeks of their being intimate together, Marcie could not imagine anything more wonderful than being with Bill. He was attentive, loving, kind and caring. He spared no expense to indulge her every whim. There were no disputes. How could there be when everything was exactly as she wished it? They talked for hours without end, and still he wanted to know more about her. He seemed to really understand her, continually amazing her with his insight. He cared for her better than she cared for herself. He accepted her. There was no part of her that he did not embrace.
One of the things that impressed Marcie most about Bill through this period of intense intimacy was that he always approached every matter that was set before him with integrity. He was a man who stood up for what he believed in. It was not just his integrity in and of itself but the way in which he fulfilled it. He was thoughtful, firm and inexorable, acting with such strength and grace that it enchanted Marcie to observe him. Even more importantly it cemented her trust in him. He was not pushy or arrogant, but loving and kind. Had he been less loving, perhaps his gentle authority would have seemed more interfering and dominating. But if he in fact dominated her, she was not aware of it, except perhaps in the bedroom. He was becoming a more demanding lover, but she adored the attention, and so far it worked out in her favor, causing her to feel desired and needed, and making her ego soar.
But even as they grew closer, Marcie became increasingly overwhelmed by the sheer impressiveness of Bill, and over time a subtle voice began presenting doubts to her mind, intent on sabotage. Joined with this was a mild resentment of his unwavering self-assuredness throughout her own self-doubt and inner conflicts. She began seeking something that could transform her fears and insecurities from mere conjecture to reality.
One day, in this kind of a mood, Marcie wandered up into Bill’s attic and began sifting through boxes, yielding at last to her accumulating suspicions and doubts. The more commonplace the items she found there, the more she felt—rather than relief—frustration. She scanned the items that marked Bill’s former life contemptuously, certain that they must be concealing something she had a right to know about.
At last her eyes fell upon a clump of letters that were held together by an elastic band. She pulled one out and began to read it. After that another one followed, and then another. She was not surprised to find that they were love letters. They appeared to be remnants of a long-distance relationship from the past. They were all addressed to Bill and sent by the same woman. Marcie tried to glean what Bill’s feelings had been for the woman by the inferences she made in her letters. She wondered why Bill kept the letters. Did this woman still mean something to him? More questions and doubts assailed her thoughts. She felt intense jealousy for the woman and fumed over the deductions she was making from what the woman had written.
By the time Bill returned home to her that night, Marcie was fuming with righteous indignation. All her insecurities and doubts had found an outlet through her anger. Even so, she knew she could hardly accuse him for something that had happened in the past—especially something she had no right to know about. This, too, irritated her; the fact that she must suffer with her new knowledge silently, knowing all the while that he was clinging to the memory of a woman from his past—this was one of the deductions she had made.
Bill noticed her mood instantly, although she was attempting to remain aloof. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, ignoring her attempts to move away from him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, holding her close and examining her face.
Bill’s nearness was not conducive to Marcie’s bad mood, but she couldn’t extricate herself from his embrace without being openly hostile, so she turned her head casually and said the mysteriously magic word that had always worked wonders for her in the past. “Nothing.”
But Bill refused to take the bait, holding her fast. “I asked you what was wrong and I would like an answer,” he said matter-of-factly.
Marcie bristled. “And I said there was nothing wrong!”
“Okay, I’ll take you at your word,” he said good-naturedly. “So this is just a bad mood then?” He continued to hold her and meanwhile kept looking at her, searching her expression for the answer he sought.
“How dare you!” His reasonableness was antagonizing.
“I dare because you’re clearly upset while insisting that there’s nothing wrong. I can only assume from that behavior that you’re in a bad mood. Is it or is it not the case?”
Marcie was becoming frustrated. This was not going the way she expected it to. She reminded herself that she was the one who was injured and tried to regain control of the situation.
“Am I a machine that has to smile all the time?”
“Not at all,” he said. “If you’re in a bad mood just say so. But I’m getting the distinct impression that you’re upset about something. If you’re upset, and especially if it’s with me, that gets me involved and puts the ball in my court.”
Marcie was becoming even more frustrated. She had never met the man who would not retreat guiltily in the face of an outraged woman, effectively surrendering under the confusion of it all and graciously granting her the advantage she sought. Her anger continued to escalate, even as her respect for him increased—or perhaps it was because her respect for him had increased. She once again felt the disturbing mixture of admiration and envy amongst the many other emotions.
“You’re so full of yourself!” she erupted, raising her voice. “Everything has to be about you.”
He laughed at that. “Last chance to tell me if there is something bothering you,” he said, remaining fully self-composed and utterly unperturbed by her outburst.
“Go to hell.”
In the next instant Bill picked her up and, before she was even aware of what was happening, he had slung her over his shoulder. Outraged, she kicked and screamed and jerked about wildly, trying desperately to get him to put her down. He laughed once again at her outburst, holding her tightly so that she could neither hurt him nor escape. He carried her into the bedroom and placed her carefully down on the bed. Then he got into the bed and climbed on top of her, gently restraining her. He was still amused by her struggles, chuckling softly as he easily subdued her. His indulgent reaction and patient resolve seemed to encourage her to fully let loose with all the pent-up aggression she didn’t even know she possessed. She thrashed about vehemently, really trying to hurt him in her fury. But Bill controlled her effortlessly. Having captured her flailing arms, he held them firmly together, above her head, with one of his hands.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said in a maddeningly calm voice. His unruffled composure, more than his words, inflamed her even more, and she thrashed about on the bed even more violently than before; but to no avail. Bill held her fast and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. “Easy now,” he said in a tone one might use with a wild animal. He waited until her energies were spent and her fighting stopped.
“Let go of me,” she then demanded.
“Not yet,” he said.
To Marcie’s dismay she began to cry. “Please let go of me!”
“I haven’t gotten you figured out yet,” he said contemplatively. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I intend to get to the bottom of it.” Marcie was alarmed by his words. Meanwhile her skirt had risen up during her struggles and Bill was slipping his free hand up her thigh. He wiggled a few fingers inside the leg band of her panties. “What’s this?” he asked her, smiling, when he discovered that she was wet. Marcie was more surprised than he was by this discovery. Bill continued to stroke her for a moment but then, to her dismay, he took his hand away to quickly remove his tie. He then used the tie to secure her hands, which he had kept hold of the entire time with his other hand, to the bed.
Marcie searched her mind for the right words and realized suddenly that she had no idea what to think, let alone say. The truth was, she was genuinely conflicted about what was happening to her.
Bill, in the meantime, was sliding her panties down, handling her kicking legs with ease as he situated himself in between them. He picked up her legs and spread them wide apart, holding them securely in midair with his strong hands. Once she was restrained in this manner, he leaned in between her trembling legs to kiss and lick her tenderly. He had learned many different ways to please her with his tongue, and he employed every single one of them now, painstakingly, and at an unhurried pace. Pretty soon Marcie was crying out with pleasure and gyrating her hips with the rhythmic motion of his tongue. He skillfully brought her to the very precipice of her climax, and then abruptly stopped before she was fully satisfied. Marcie watched him in stunned silence as he got up and began to undress. She noticed he was fully aroused and she began to ache with anticipation. She thought she ought to protest but most of her previous anger had completely abandoned her. He returned to the bed and once again moved between her legs.
“What are you going to do?” she asked stupidly.
“I’m trying to help you feel better. I don’t know what set you off yet, but let’s just get you feeling better first.”
She was astounded. She had absolutely no idea what to think. His words rekindled her anger, even as they sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through her. She wanted him to make love to her, but she didn’t want to yield to him. In her confusion she found herself halfheartedly resisting Bill as he approached her, making feeble attempts to kick him.
“Enough,” he said firmly, but without anger. He rested himself between her legs without entering her, gently kissing her face and in between kisses searching her eyes. “What’s going on with you, Marcie?”
Marcie couldn’t begin to explain what was happening inside her, so she remained silent. More than anything at that moment, she wished Bill would simply make love to her, but she could hardly say so. When the silence became too much for her, she moved her hips against him enticingly.
“Say it,” he told her.
“Say what?”
“Tell me that you want me to make love to you.”
“I don’t care what—”
He cut her off. “Look. I can see you’re upset about something that you don’t want to talk about. I can also see that you’re very turned on and it is my opinion it would be good for us both to make love now. However, we haven’t fully established the rules yet, and I want to make sure we understand each other. You don’t feel like being agreeable or working things out. Okay. I’m more than willing to take charge of the situation, but you have to agree ahead of time to let me take charge and to trust me, whatever I decide to do.”
Marcie stared at Bill in stunned silence.
With her silence Bill continued patiently, “We spoke of this already in the restaurant, so you must have known this moment would come. It’s here, but I need your consent. You have to tell me that you trust me to take control of you—that you want me to take control of you.”
She realized suddenly that she did want Bill to take control, but she still couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
Bill sighed with her continued silence, but his tone remained calm and tender. “Either you agree to trust me, and give me free rein to do what I think is best for us, or I’ll untie you now and you can get up, get dressed, leave here and never come back.”
Marcie was both alarmed and hurt by his words. But she could not, in truth, say that she was entirely surprised. Bill had given her ample warning of his position, through not only words but actions. Throughout their time together, there was a clear leadership being established by him, and she had reveled in it. Until now.
Marcie was further confounded by Bill’s proximity. Their bodies were pressed together, although he was careful not to lean his full weight on her. She marveled over how he always thought of even the smallest detail of her comfort and well-being. There was never a moment when her needs were not put as high in priority, or higher, than his own. Yet to give up control over her body and just hand it over to him carte blanche! But to get up and leave was too painful to consider.
Marcie did not like the position she was in one bit. Bill seemed to read her mind.
“I see that you don’t like to compromise when you’re upset.” He still spoke to her calmly and with genuine kindness in his voice, although there was frustration there, too. “That is precisely why I want the authority to take control—so I can take over when you get like this. It will allow you to be as angry and unreasonable as you want, knowing I’ll take care of us until you come around. I’m not going to allow you to dictate our relationship based on your moods. I thought I made this clear.”
Marcie was once again torn between grudging respect, admiration and anger. Bill’s words inflamed each of the emotions in question. She realized he was right about her unwillingness to compromise when she was feeling the way she did now. His mastery over his own emotions astounded her.
Taking her continued silence for refusal, he abruptly untied her. “Get dressed.”
Had this been happening with any man other than Bill, Marcie would have got up and stormed out without a second thought, assured in the knowledge that he would come around eventually and that she would not only have kept her pride intact but also managed to make him suffer as much as she had. But she knew for a certainty that Bill would do no such thing, and she felt a sudden panic.
“No!” she cried vehemently.
He looked at her expectantly. She saw that he was losing patience with her. She was suddenly contrite, but terribly self-conscious and still hesitant.
“I do trust you,” she admitted finally.
“And?”
She sighed in frustration. “What do you want from me?”
“I want your consent to take control of you when I think it is necessary. I want full control, over you and me.”
“Okay.” She realized faintly that she still wasn’t one hundred percent clear about what she was consenting to. And yet she really did trust Bill. The uncertainty over what he would do to her once he took control didn’t bring fear but anticipation.
“Okay what?”
“I give you my consent.”
“Do I have your full consent to take absolute control of you and your body?”
Marcie nodded. New little pangs of sharp desire pierced the already engorged flesh between her legs.
“Say it.”
“You have my full consent to take absolute control of me and…my body.” She could hardly believe she had just spoken the words.
He smiled. “Thank you,” he said. He took her face in his hands and waited for her eyes to meet his. She desperately wanted the discussion to be over and for him to resume the lovemaking, but he was not quite finished. “You’ve crossed a line with this agreement,” he told her. “It has advanced our relationship to the next level. In the future you can be as unreasonable and out of control as you want and know that I’ll protect us and our relationship. At any time if you want to take back your consent you may do so, but know that it
will end our relationship.”
“You obviously don’t care about me at all if you can so easily threaten to end our relationship,” she protested, suddenly bursting into tears.
He held her in his arms and patiently waited for her to stop crying. “I care a great deal for you,” he said, embracing her more securely. “There are actually very few things you could do that would make me end this relationship,” he told her. “You can do pretty much whatever you wish and express yourself in any way you like, but always know that I will do what has to be done to protect you, me and us.”
Marcie had stopped crying so he gently laid her back down on the bed and, without further ado, began making love to her. He kissed away her tears as he took her tenderly into him. “Hush, now,” he soothed, and she clung to him. She became more feverish in her lovemaking as a result of all the pent-up emotions that had been raging inside her. She found herself thrashing against him, even as she simultaneously clutched him to her. She became almost ferocious in her struggle to achieve the satisfaction she sought.
“That’s it,” Bill encouraged her. “Get it all out here and now.” He spread kisses all along her lips and cheeks and neck as he lovingly consoled her. He easily controlled her unruly body as she fully succumbed to her passion, gently restraining her when she became too aggressive. All the while he moved in and out of her with long, even strokes, allowing her free rein to use his body as it pleased her best to do.