The tricky thing about having a male submissive in service to a male Dominant was there was always that barrier where the submissive got to the thought pattern that sex would eventually become a part of the dynamic. Frankly, there was not much truth to that, especially when both the Dominant and submissive were straight.
The past month, I had noticed a passive-aggressive attitude from him, like he was simply putting up with me in order to serve Neferterri. Nothing could enrage me more, particularly when we had removed female submissives for doing the exact same thing. But because he was new, I felt the need to give him the benefit of the doubt, perhaps even taking a more hands-on approach with him, letting him know this was not a bracketed dynamic.
He was due for a wake-up call, and I had no problems with providing it.
I had to be honest with myself before I figured out the path I needed Damian to take. Did I really want a male submissive in the House? Could I deal with him the way Neferterri and I deal with the girls? Did I care what others thought about having him at my feet as sajira and shamise kneeled at my feet?
I had my own perceptions of myself I needed to worry about getting past and dispelling, so I could look at the man in the mirror and be okay with the man staring back at me.
As the plane began its ascent, I closed my eyes and sought out my thoughts from an outside perspective, trying to find the critic who might view me differently. I found him as the plane leveled off, accusing me of being “sweet” because I wanted a male to serve me.
The plane sped smoothly down the coastline as I verbally sparred with the critic about the ignorance he’d portrayed, putting me as a Dominant in some sort of “box” where I was supposed to be the omniscient and I should not be any more than what everyone expected me to be.
Who was he to tell me I was somehow “diminished” as a Dominant because I was willing to have a male in service to me? If anything, I was more than comfortable in my skin and my sexuality, and there was nothing he would be able to say to change my mind. It was my world, he had to adjust, and if he couldn’t, fuck him.
Metaphorically speaking, of course…
I felt the plane bank left in its final approach into Georgia coming out of the Smoky Mountains, and by that time, my critic was blown from the discussion. All of the arguments being made were from an archaic perspective that didn’t register for me in the twenty-first century.
The critic didn’t agree with me. I was being foolish for trying to tarnish my reputation on a lesser male, in his opinion.
I sent a text in the midst of the debate to let Neferterri know Damian needed to pick me up from the airport.
He and I needed to have a little “chat,” and it wouldn’t be a pleasant one.
She texted back that he would be waiting at Baggage Claim.
Back and forth, the critic and I traded different points, trying to gain the upper hand, trying to keep the low blows to a minimum, knowing eventually it would get to that level anyway, so I braced myself for the epithets that would spew. I was quite surprised it didn’t get there, though the discussion was heated nonetheless.
The flight attendant interrupted briefly to inform me the plane was reaching its final descent and I needed to put my seatbelt back on.
I obliged before heading back to the debate at hand.
Upon touching down, I bid the critic adieu and thanked him for the point of view, but I was secure in my dominance and I still controlled all I surveyed. He, in turn, thanked me and wished me well on the next opponent I would be facing in Damian; he did not envy the task I had ahead of me.
I nodded.
This would be an interesting ride home.
As we deplaned, I felt this rush of focus swirl around me, as though I clearly had the sight to do what needed to be done.
More importantly, how it would be done as well.
As I made my way to the escalators leading to baggage claim, I texted my Beloved one more time to let her know she would be a silent witness to a conversation that would be uncomfortable for her to hear.
Tonight, it was time to shit or get off the pot.
FIFTEEN SAJIRA
“Tell me what turns you on.”
I was on the phone with my “Dom” again tonight, but for some reason, tonight was strangely different than the last few times I’d milked money from him.
The last time, he changed his demeanor on me, not being so abrasive, almost seductive. His voice was more commanding, and it caught me off-guard as my defenses were already up, thinking I knew where he was coming from.
My body began to respond to him the last time, and it freaked me out a little bit. I had told myself Daddy’s voice would be the only one that could get me “there” over the phone, so I wasn’t about to allow him to take me to the edge.
My “Dom” had other plans.
“You already know what turns me on, sir.” I toyed with him, trying to keep him at bay as much as I could.
“Come on, sexy, I know everyone has a deep, dark fantasy they would like to have fulfilled.” His voice got deeper as he talked, which slowly made me weak. “It’s not like we’ll ever be able to make it happen in person; wouldn’t that be against the rules, Calypso?”
“Yes, sir, it would be against the rules.” I tried to figure out why I was even considering whether it was against the rules in the first place. Against my better judgment, I confided in him. “I have fantasies about being raped.”
“Mmmm, now we’re getting somewhere,” he said to me. “So, you fantasize about being taken against your will?”
“Yes, sir, I do.” I was sinking deeper into the thoughts in my mind instead of hearing him. I didn’t see the harm in telling him. I had no intentions of meeting him in person or anything like that, so I kept the fantasies in my head going. “The fear of it turns me on a lot, sir.”
“Do you want to know who does this to you, or do you not want to know?” he asked, which piqued my curiosity further. He gave me the impression he’d done this before.
“Have you done it before? I mean, done a rape play scene before?” I wanted to know, but I wanted to deflect the question he’d asked more. Details he did not need to know about, and even though I’d already let the cat out of the bag, the less he knew from here on out, the better I felt.
“I had a partner of mine do it, said it was hot as hell when they did it,” he answered. “She wanted to know it was him, but she didn’t want to know when he decided to do it. He said it added to the adrenaline rush when he did take her.”
I listened to him talk about the whole scene and it made me so wet, so embarrassingly wet, I wanted to end the call right then. But I couldn’t resist listening to each detail, imagining I was the woman he was talking about.
“I can hear it in your voice, Calypso; it’s turning you on,” he said, picking up on the moaning I tried to keep to myself. “Are you playing in your pussy, Calypso?”
“Yes, sir, I am,” I admitted. “May I continue to play in my pussy, please, sir? Telling me about the fantasy she fulfilled really has me wet.”
“No, I don’t think I will, Calypso,” he abruptly answered. “I didn’t tell you that you could play with your pussy.”
I kept playing in my pussy, knowing it would upset him further. “I’m sorry, sir, but the way you sound when you tell the story, I can’t help myself. Please, I want to hear more, please?”
I laid the begging on thick, and it seemed to have its effect on him, because he paused a moment before he uttered, “All right, Calypso, come for me, since you’re already playing with your pussy.”
I was already on the verge of an intense orgasm by the time he gave “permission” for me to climax over the phone for him.
I came so hard and screamed so loud I couldn’t stop shaking. I heard him growling over the phone, letting me know my performance had gotten to him, too.
I kept the flow going, feeling another wave crashing over me immediately, causing me to scream even louder. “Sir, my pussy’s so wet for
you; God, I can’t stop coming!”
All I heard from him was grunting and growling, which kept me going until my lips began to hurt from all the rubbing and spanking of my clit.
Once my orgasms subsided, I began to use the “pillow talk” time to see if he would let his guard down. I knew I was breaking the rules by the moment, but he had me open, and I wanted to see if he would indulge me some more. “What’s your name, sir? You’ve never told me your name.”
There was another pause on the phone, which made me wonder if I had gone too far with the question.
“My name is Deion.” His response was cold and unfeeling. I immediately realized I’d gone too far. Before I could say another word, he snapped, “Are you happy now, bitch?”
Click.
SIXTEEN NEFERTERRI
Getting the text from my Beloved was interesting.
But I couldn’t say I didn’t see it coming.
Damian had gotten too comfortable.
He was too comfortable around our girls…
He was too comfortable with the scene, and more importantly, he was getting too comfortable being under my control, but he wasn’t doing what he needed to do to stay under my control.
He had done a good job a couple of days ago, I admitted, but he fell back into old patterns a little too quickly for my taste. His life as a submissive was not supposed to be comfortable, and I took some of the blame for that. His life as a submissive was to make my life comfortable, and to make the life of his Sir comfortable also.
Tonight was a make-or-break day, and he didn’t even know it.
Not that I didn’t see this coming, but there had to be a breaking point, and this was that point.
The text message I’d received said he would be calling me the minute Damian had collected him at baggage claim.
What Damian wouldn’t know was how I would find out about the conversation they would soon have.
It was at times like this when most people usually say, I wish I was a fly on the wall when this happened.
Well, this time, I got to be a fly on the wall, with a cushy seat on my living room couch, sprawled out and half-naked because the kids wouldn’t be home tonight. They were spending the night at their grandmother’s house and wouldn’t be back until morning.
I teased myself with the way the conversation would start. I didn’t want to, but my curiosity got the best of me sometimes.
Would Damian act like nothing’s going on and he’s simply completing a task?
Would Ramesses start in on him right away?
Would he and Damian bullshit about sports before Ramesses blindsided him with questions?
Would Damian already know what the deal would be because he was the one picking Ramesses up instead of sajira, shamise, or one of the house slaves at NEBU?
The chime of my cell phone provided both the interruption to my thoughts and the answer to my questions all at the same time.
“Hi, baby, how was Your flight?” I sweetly spoke into the speaker phone of my cell.
“Hi, baby, the flight was short, thankfully, and Damian’s with Me now.” Ramesses instantly picked up on the tone of my voice. He spoke like the call was routine. “We’re heading over to NEBU first before he drives Me home.”
“Okay, baby, the girls should be home in the morning; they’re at my mom’s tonight,” I told him, trying to give Damian the clue I was finishing the call. “Be careful on the way to NEBU, please?”
“We will, baby,” he said before “hanging up” the phone.
The next series of sounds I heard were the two of them walking to the car; some words being spoken I couldn’t make out, but that wasn’t the part of the conversation I wanted to hear anyway. I went to the kitchen to get something to drink, and by the time I got back and settled into the couch to listen in, the conversation had begun.
“We need to figure out what your path will be within this House, Damian. There are no two ways about it.” I heard Ramesses cut to the chase.
“With all due respect, Sir, my path within the House is going along fine,” Damian retorted. “Neferterri has been pleased with my growth thus far.”
I was worried I would hear a sound similar to skin and bone connecting; he was seriously out of pocket talking to his Dominant in such a manner.
“See, young one, this is where you are failing to see the big picture.” Ramesses was still calm, but I could hear the thunder rolling in the distance. “There are two Dominants in this House, and just because you’ve satisfied One, does not mean you’ve done your job. The girls know this all too well, or else they would not still be with us.”
“i have tried to be of service to You, Sir. i dropped everything i was doing when Neferterri texted me to pick You up.” Damian sounded agitated, and I hoped he would keep calm. With submissives, they can get really emotional when they feel their backs are against the wall. “What more do You want from me?”
“I understand that, and this particular occurrence is noticed, believe Me, but the previous month, you have been avoiding Me, and in order for you to function properly within this dynamic, we have to get right with each other,” Ramesses coldly stated. “So, when you get your ass off your shoulders and remember it’s not about you, then we can continue this conversation.”
There was a brief, yet painful, pause.
It certainly was going to get uglier from there. Damian tended to be a hothead. It’s that passion that attracted me to him, but it could also be to his detriment. Ramesses didn’t deal well with hot tempers. If anything, the calmer he got, the colder he became.
I imagined the car was probably thirty degrees colder than the abnormally warm eighty-nine degrees currently being reported in the city today.
“Ramesses, Sir, i apologize for forgetting my place,” Damian quietly responded. “It was not my intention to snap at You, Sir.”
I heard the quiet continue before anyone else spoke.
“Damian, I understand your frustration to a degree,” I heard my husband begin. Whenever he started out like that, it’s correction and pep-talk time. “I am not the Grim Reaper, contrary to the other submissive males’ opinions.”
That drew a chuckle out of Damian and a bit of a sigh of relief from me, because it felt like it was warming up in there. I hated the only thing I could do was listen and not say anything, but it was better than hearing about it after it was all over.
“Sir, if i may ask, what exactly would You have me do for You, to be in service to You?” Damian asked a very good question. “i mean, i know what Your Beloved wants out of me, but, let’s face it, we’re both straight, so, is there something different we should be doing?”
Ramesses kind of laughed a bit, and then he couldn’t help but laugh a little bit more, like he had his own inside joke going on. I wondered what was going through his mind as I sat there continuing to listen in on this conversation.
“Damian, there is more to servitude than sex; I thought you would have figured that out by now,” he bluntly stated. “What you do to serve Neferterri is one thing, and I’m sure you do more than serve Her sexually. There are duties that must be done for Me, such as your impromptu chauffeur duties you are handling right now. This is part of the reason why your training is so important.”
“i understand, Sir.” Damian nodded. “It actually makes me feel a whole lot better. Seeing how tiger serves when male Dominants are around, it was a little interesting, and it had me on edge when it came to how i translated how i was to serve You.”
“you’re still a rookie, so I figured something was amiss,” Ramesses responded. “Now that we have figured out what the hell has been wrong with you the last month, we can move forward and get you into the fold.”
“You mean, You actually are comfortable with having a male submissive serving You, Sir?” Damian asked again, letting the newness of his submission shine through again.
“I don’t worry much about what the blogosphere says about different things, youngster.” Ramesses’s tone rem
inded me of the online infighting that went on when safi tried to file rape and kidnapping charges on Amenhotep. “If anything, most of those folks are too busy playing at what we do for real. It’s the old saying, ‘those that can, do…those that cannot, talk about it.’ ”
I laughed when I heard him say that because it did seem that way most of the time in watching the forums and blogs online. Some folks kept it positive and others kept a straight line, letting audiences know what we do was not for the faint of heart. But there were some who really make you scratch your head and wonder, do you really believe what you’re blogging about?
“Understood, Sir, and i will do my best to follow along with that line of thinking because there’s always the small doubt that creeps into your mind,” Damian admitted. “We’re almost to the office, Sir. Should i inform my Goddess of Your arrival there?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary, Damian.” I turned the mute off the speaker on my cell phone to answer. “So, do you accept your place at our feet, Damian?”
“Yes, my Goddess, i accept my place, and i am no longer afraid of that possibility anymore,” Damian answered back. “Thank You both for being patient with me. i do hope to reward Your patience soon.”
“I suspect you will quite soon, Damian,” Ramesses spoke over the speaker as I heard them getting out of the car. “Of that I have no doubt.”
SEVENTEEN SHAMISE
Oh, to be home again.
As much time and effort it took to get back to this point, I really thought I wouldn’t be able to return. From what sajira explained to me, Daddy took my departure hard. I knew he cared deeply for me, and I loved him, too, but the last thing I wanted to do was hurt him or any one of my D/s family.
And yet, I knew Daddy would still have something in store for me, just to make me suffer a little for leaving. Especially when he knew I was aware that deep down, I really didn’t want to leave.
But I felt it was something I needed to do at the time.
Legacy: Book Two of the Chronicles of the Nubian Underworld Page 9