“Sure, yeah, whatever. Okay, go get dressed. Then you can give me your number and we’re in business. You’re on call twenty-four seven. But usually the guys I deal with are weekend sorts, on business trips and fucking around on their wives. You know, the usual.”
Yeah, she knew. The usual.
Chapter 7
Ashley felt one part excited, one part ridiculous. Last night when they’d made love she’d tried to get Andrew to “dom” her, to take control and maybe hold her down and spank her a little. She hadn’t had the nerve to actually ask, but she had behaved in what she thought was a submissive manner while eagerly responding to any advance.
When he didn’t take the cue, she playfully attacked him, getting him to wrestle with her until he had flipped her off of himself and ended up stretched across her, her wrists pinned firmly above her head, his lips locked onto hers.
It had been hot, being held down by that. He could have his way with her and she would be his captive. She grinned at her own silly, stilted thoughts. The books she had read were twisting her brain. Pirates in old movies had their way with you. But there was no denying when he’d entered her after their tussle, she was wet and hot, completely ready to be fucked.
Afterwards they had talked long into the night about submissive and dominant feelings, about sexual servitude, about their own fledgling relationship. Sometime near dawn, Ashley leaned over Andrew, whispering in his ear, “Sir, I want to submit to you,” just as Laura had said to David in Submissive Secrets.
Instead of breathing his thanks and delight as she had expected, he had answered slowly, “Ashley, honey, I know it seems sexy right now. Fun and playful. Your little manipulations to get me to hold you down, for example.” Ashley blushed, glad the room was lit only by the moon as he continued. “That’s cute stuff. But it isn’t submission. It’s just playing around. Don’t misunderstand me—there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s sexy and fun. You were so hot tonight, so eager for me, I just loved it. But I want you to be careful, Ashley. Careful what you wish for.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, feeling a little petulant. Why did everything have to be discussed to death? She liked what David did to Laura in the book and she wanted it done to her. However, years of not speaking her own mind kept her silent.
“What I’m trying to say is you may think you want what Laura and David shared in that little book you read. It sounds good on paper. On paper, it’s hot to kneel on your knees for two hours with your legs spread, keeping perfectly still while your lover sexually ‘tortures’ and titillates you. But in real life, you’d be begging to get up in five minutes. On paper it might sound sexy to get spanked until your ass is cherry red as you thrash prettily over your master’s knee, but in real life you might just say, ‘Ow, cut that out, you son of a bitch!’”
“I never said I wanted to be spanked,” Ashley said, as she slipped a hand down to touch her ass. Perversely, it felt all tingly as if he’d actually swatted her, and more perversely still, the thought secretly aroused her.
“No, I know. I know. I just think we should talk this through. Make sure of what you want. I don’t mind playing games with you. Like I said, it’s fun. It can have its place in our sexual repertoire, if you will,” he grinned. “But playing little S&M games is a far cry from submission. And quite frankly,” he leaned over her, smoothing her fine blonde hair from her face, “I’m not sure, given your history, your past, that you could deal with the physical aspects of the whole scene.”
“You mean I’d get you confused with my dad smacking me with his belt when he was shit-faced drunk?”
“Well, in a nutshell, yeah, maybe. I mean, if I were to be your master, if I were to ‘own’ you and you were to give yourself to me in that way—it wouldn’t just be a little light wrestling and some playful swats on your ass. You need to understand if I were to have a submissive woman of my own, she wouldn’t be the one calling the shots.”
“Tell me,” Ashley whispered, suddenly aware they were at the crux, the real part of the conversation. She needed to hear this. She felt almost desperate for his words.
“Well,” he hesitated, collecting his thoughts. “If you were to submit to me, you would give your body and your will to me. Not like a prostitute selling herself for cash. No, the very opposite of that. You would have to freely give of yourself, your whole self, with no reservations. And I as your dominant lover would in turn give myself completely to you. What I mean is, it would be a pure exchange of power. You would agree to bend yourself gracefully to my will, and I would promise to cherish and treasure that gift of submission.
“And Ashley, I would whip that flesh you offer, but the whip would be a kiss, an offering, an acknowledgement that you needed that to be fulfilled. That’s not something you can learn, you know. You don’t suddenly become a sub because you read about it and it sounded cool. A submissive, I truly believe, is born that way. As is a Dom. You would crave the lash because it’s hardwired into you. A submissive or masochistic nature isn’t something you can just wish you have because the ideas were presented in a sexy way in a book.”
Now it was Andrew’s turn to hold forth on a topic clearly dear to his heart. He continued. “A true submissive longs to serve, to kneel at her master’s feet waiting to please him. His needs would be paramount and would override hers in every situation. But the lovely irony here is that when love is involved, which in my book it has to be—a D/s relationship can’t exist in my mind without love—the Dom’s ‘need’ is to please his slave. To serve her in his own way. To provide her with the loving control and the passion she yearns for and which is realized through serving him.”
He laughed a little and turned his head toward the window. “Listen to me. I sound like that corny book you were reading. You probably have no clue what I’m even trying to say.”
“No, not at all. What you’re saying sounds beautiful. You make it sound so romantic. Not just sexy, but really romantic and intense.”
“Yes!” The excitement was barely suppressed in his voice. “I truly believe that a loving D/s relationship can be the most intense and romantic thing on the planet. Nothing compares. Nothing.” He lowered his voice so that she leaned closer to hear. “At least in my dreams. I’ve never had it, Ashley. I’d be feeling my way right along with you if we were to do anything like that.”
Ashley wrapped her arms around Andrew’s neck, pulling him down onto her as she ardently kissed him. “Andrew,” she breathed. “Andrew, my love. I’ve never felt what I feel for you. I’ve never said this to a soul, but I thought something was wrong with me. That I was broken inside because I’d never had feelings like this for a man but, Andrew…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “…I love you. I’m in love with you. I think I want what you could offer. I want to submit to you. It feels right. It fits somehow inside of me with what I want. I want to try it.”
“Oh, Ashley, oh, baby. I love you too. But I don’t want to scare you away. You’ve been through so much. I hear you saying you want to submit to me, to try it. But I’m afraid submission, even in the lovely, romantic way I envision, would hurt you, would set you back in your recovery.”
“Andrew,” Ashley sat up, the moonlight outlining her features, silvering her nipples and the graceful curve of her neck. “I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions. I can’t force you to do anything nor would I want to.”
She leaned over her lover, her hair falling over her face as she whispered, “I want to try this. I want to, what were your words, and Laura’s words, too, if I recall. I want to offer an exchange of power. I want to give myself to you. Let me try. Don’t take this from me.”
He stared at her for a moment, and then slowly nodded. There was a confidence in her voice he hadn’t heard before. No one had, for it was new.
The yes was in his kiss.
Now Ashley knelt on the floor, clad only in black satin thong panties and a sexy little bra that pushed her breasts up and together to create a sexy cleavage. Sh
e was waiting on the little kitchen rug by the back door since he had said he would be home no later than five-thirty. Yes, one part excited and maybe one-and-a-half parts ridiculous now. Even though it had been he who had ‘commanded’ her to wait for him like this, would he laugh at her kneeling there like some character in a sleazy novel?
Yet she couldn’t deny the heat between her legs as she waited. He would find her head down, back straight, knees spread, hands on her thighs, just like Laura in the book, who had waited each day for her “master” to return home to take what was his due.
She heard the key scraping in the lock and her heart suddenly caught in her throat. A fleeting impulse to leap up and run from the kitchen, to pull on a robe and hide in the bedroom suddenly washed over her, but she remained still, willing herself to be calm. If he laughed, she would laugh too. What a silly joke, welcome home, how was your day?
She was glad suddenly for her pose because she could focus on the floor instead of his face as he entered.
“Ashley.”
Just her name. She heard him put his briefcase on the kitchen table. She saw his legs, the cuffs of his suit pants neatly bisecting the fine, black leather of his shoes.
She felt his hand on her head and then his fingers on her chin as he lifted her face. Slowly she looked up, barely able to hear herself over the whooshing sound of her heart pounding in her ears.
~*~
Andrew pulled Ashley to her feet. She looked so beautiful and vulnerable in her satin bra and panties, her long, straight golden hair partially obscuring her face. Her eyes were bright and she stared at him with such open longing it took his breath away.
He could feel his cock, hard and tingling in his pants as he inhaled her perfect beauty. Could this really be happening? He had never dared hope to find someone to “fit his groove”. It was the stuff of fantasy. The idle dabbling he had done online had convinced him that for most people this was just a game. As it had been for Janet—just a sexy way to get off.
Now this woman, this precious, delicate woman, had somehow fallen into his life. He remembered the first time he’d talked to her, seizing on the fact that she held a copy of Catch-22 in her hand. How glad he had been she was holding something he recognized so he could use that as an excuse to begin a conversation.
Even then, before he knew her tragic history, he had sensed something fragile in her. Something wounded, though she never alluded to it when they would meet for coffee and conversation. Then his slowly growing conviction she was married and thus unattainable. If only he’d known the truth sooner. If only he could have saved her.
But she’d saved herself, hadn’t she? She hadn’t needed a man to rescue her in the end. She’d found the courage to get herself out. What a woman. And after all she’d been through, to be able to draw on that hidden strength and take action. How many women, or men for that matter, who had been so conditioned all their lives to feel unworthy and out of control would have been able to find that inner reserve of courage to get themselves out? Sadly, Andrew knew very few did get out and he was grateful Ashley had been one of them.
He knew she still didn’t appreciate her own courage in the matter. Said she had only done what she had to do, that she hadn’t even thought about it as it was happening. She had said if she had thought, she would have been too terrified to act. But wasn’t that what real bravery was? Acting in the face of fear. Not thinking it over, but doing it. It would take time and love, but perhaps he could help her to learn her own strength, to appreciate her own courage and value.
And now she was offering herself to him. Would an outside observer think he was pulling her back down into some kind of sick, sexual bondage? Some kind of evil game that controlling fucks like Greg exerted over defenseless girls who didn’t have the wherewithal to fight them?
No, that was the last thing Andrew wanted.
He had meant every word last night, even if it had come out all corny and poetic. He truly believed in the loving exchange of power. In the concept of the “master” and the “slave” were equals who blended into something beautiful. A yin and yang balance where the dominance complemented the submission. She would give of herself and he would take with love and care, giving himself back to her a thousand-fold.
And lust was certainly in the equation. How he lusted after her innocent perfection. He wanted to plunder and exalt her. Would she truly understand what it was to submit? Appreciate the romance of erotic submission? And he, would he be able to rise to the task of dominating her, of controlling her orgasm, her appetites, her pleasure and her pain?
He’d thought of nothing else since their long talk last night. He’d found himself unable to concentrate at work. He’d cancelled a client meeting, losing billable hours, because he knew he’d be useless. Instead, he’d shut his door and instructed his secretary not to disturb him unless it was an emergency. He’d let his mind wander over the loveliness of his newfound girl and over the potential she had offered him so sweetly.
At lunchtime, he’d called the house, a part of him still surprised that a voice other than his own answering machine would answer. After four rings, she picked up.
“Hello?”
“Hi, sweetheart. You sound out of breath.”
“Hi, Andrew. Betty and I were just romping in the yard. She’s after this squirrel who’s driving her crazy! What’s up? Is everything okay?” Andrew had only called the house once or twice before while Ashley had been there. Work was usually too hectic for him to find even a moment.
Andrew smiled, savoring the image of his darling girl and his big old dog playing in the backyard. Life was so much brighter with Ashley in it. Betty had fallen in love at first sight, just as Andrew himself had. “Oh, it’s fine, no problems. I was just thinking about you. And about what we talked about last night.”
“Yes,” Ashley said.
When she didn’t offer more, Andrew suddenly found himself uneasy. Had theirs just been the idle talk following lovemaking with no serious import behind the words? “Have you been thinking about it? Have you been considering those fanciful offers you made to me?”
“Oh, Andrew! It’s all I’ve thought of since I woke up. I’ve been online some this morning chatting with real-life subs. There’s this one person, her name is sex-kitten.” Ashley laughed and amended, “Well, that’s not her name, of course. It’s her handle on this site, but anyway she ‘lives the life’, as she calls it, ‘twenty-four seven’ she says. You can’t believe the stuff her master does to her.” Ashley rushed on, not letting Andrew get a word in edgewise. “He makes her wear this chastity belt when he’s not home and she has to wait until he gets home to pee. Can you imagine? And if she comes before he gives her permission, he drops hot wax on her pussy. And if she gets ‘mouthy’, as he calls it, he makes her kneel up to the doorknob and wrap her mouth around it for like five minutes. Can you believe this stuff?”
“Well,” Andrew turned away from his desk and looked out his big picture window, “there are people out there like that. It’s what turns them on. It’s not abuse, though I guess it kind of sounds like it. But when it’s consensual—when both parties are into it and it turns them both on—who’s to pass judgment?”
“Oh, I know. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I thought it was abuse. Far from it. I got so wet just chatting with her. I’m worried, Andrew, I’m just this total perv and I never even knew it. It’s not that I want to live that way—I can’t imagine not being able to pee when I wanted—but hearing her describe it was a real turn-on. Andrew, do you think…”
She trailed off and Andrew waited a moment before prompting. “Yes? Do I think what?”
“Well…”
Andrew could hear the hesitation. Patiently he waited until she continued.
“Do you think we’d ever be like that? I mean, with punishments and stuff?”
Andrew smiled. When she’d said the word “punishment” it was if she was saying “ice cream” or “huge shopping spree”. The longing was palpab
le in her voice. He was surprised but didn’t let on, instead saying, “That would be up to us, sweetheart. You and me. Like I said last night, we’d be feeling our way together. We’d be taking it one step at a time and seeing what felt right for us. We don’t need to rush, Ash. We’ve got all the time in the world, don’t we?”
“I want it all,” she said simply.
Andrew laughed aloud at that point. She was continually amazing him. The beaten-down little waif he’d taken sobbing from the bookstore was some dim memory, it seemed. Andrew found himself even more drawn to this new, strong version of his wonderful lover. “Well, that’s a tall order, young lady. Submissives are supposed to cultivate patience, you know.” Still chuckling he said, “How about we start with a little test? A test of your submission, shall we? When I come home today, here’s how I want to find you.”
And so he had. When he’d turned that key in the lock, he wasn’t entirely sure what would greet him, but there before him was this beautiful woman, kneeling prettily for his viewing pleasure.
Now here she stood, half-naked, her dark blue eyes looking adoringly into his. He felt his bloodlust rise to a fever pitch. He would take what she offered. He would allow the submission she claimed she wanted. He would test her promises and her love.
Pulling her head back by her hair, he kissed her lips, claiming her with his mouth, devouring her with his eyes.
She responded ardently, wrapping her arms around him. After a few moments he pulled away and said, “Kneel again, slave.” He felt his cock strain even harder as he said the word—slave—hoping she would understand the love that imbued the term.
Obediently she sank to her knees, again assuming the position she had been in when he opened the door, with her back straight and thighs parted.
“No. Not like that. Put your head on the floor. Forehead touching the ground, ass in the air.” Ashley stared at him a moment and he stared back, willing her to defy him. Slowly, her face a becoming pink, she did as he commanded.
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