Leticia shifted her weight discreetly in the chair as if she was afraid to disturb me, and then she softly cleared her throat. My eyes came back into focus, my thoughts returned to the here-and- now.
“Do you have many memorable experiences with Caroline that you can recall – for the story?” Leticia asked.
I stood a little straighter and nodded. “The first incident that comes to mind was on a business trip,” I said. “It was just a one-day meeting and an overnight stay in a hotel. I took Caroline with me.”
“Not your secretary?”
I shook my head. “It was more pleasure than business,” I smiled thinly. “Caroline and I were booked into one of the luxury suites on the first floor. The rooms were built around a swimming pool. I attended the meeting and left Caroline to her own devices for a few hours. When I came back to the room, I discovered that she was down by the pool. Several of the wives of my associates had gathered together to pass the afternoon.”
“Did everyone else know that Caroline was your submissive?”
“No,” I said. “As I have mentioned before, I’m a private man. What I do in my personal life is my business. I never mixed private affairs with those connected to my work. The people at the hotel that weekend had no idea Caroline was anything other than a beautiful companion I had brought along for company.”
“Were you jealous, Jonah?” Leticia asked. “If Caroline was as beautiful as you describe her, then surely there must have been plenty of other men at the hotel – even some of your business friends – who would have been admiring her.”
“I was never jealous, and never possessive,” I said. “And that wasn’t because I was arrogant, or because I thought I was the only good-looking man in the world. It was because I was confident that I was the only man who could give a woman like Caroline what she needed to feel fulfilled.”
“Has that been your attitude with every woman you have been intimate with?”
“Of course,” I said simply, and then realized the answer wasn’t that simple after all. “Leticia, this is a world where free will reins, as it should. That means I believe every woman has the right to make her own choices and her own decisions about her life. She can decide to serve me as a submissive, or she can decide to leave me for another man, or another lifestyle at any time. I can’t – and I would never try – to hold a woman to me who didn’t want to be at my side. Ultimately, there is no point wasting energy on emotions like jealousy or being possessive. You can’t keep someone from following their heart.”
We had detoured off topic again. I stared down into my glass, and regrettably decided I had probably drunk enough. I left the glass on the kitchen counter.
“Where was I?”
Leticia glanced at her notebook. “Caroline was down by the pool with a group of other women. You had just finished your meeting.”
I nodded.
“The suite had a wide glass sliding door that opened onto a balcony. There was some outdoor furniture in one corner, and the balcony railing was a waist-high brick wall that stretched the full width of the room. I glanced over the rail and saw Caroline. She was wearing a tiny blue bikini, and she was stretched out on a sun lounge. She saw me and lifted her sunglasses from her eyes, gave me a wave. I waved back to her, summoning her to the room.
“Caroline was in the doorway just a minute or two later. She stood barefoot on the carpet with a towel wrapped like a sarong around her waist. Her skin was shiny with perspiration and suntan lotion. She smelled of coconuts, and, after just an hour in the sun, her body had turned a healthy glowing shade of brown. I devoured her with my eyes, and she stood silently, enjoying the appreciation.
“Caroline was an exhibitionist,” I explained to Leticia. “That was her particular little fetish.”
Leticia wrote more notes and then sat silently flexing the cramp from her fingers while she watched me to see if I would continue. I did.
“I told Caroline to remove the towel. She touched at her waist and it fell down around her ankles. Her bikini bottoms were little more than a tiny patch of fabric, tied at each hip with pieces of string. The bikini top was no better. I could see the press of her nipples through the thin fabric, and as I watched they actually seemed to harden and enlarge before my gaze. Caroline lowered her eyes demurely. She was smiling softly to herself, playing the part of the modest submissive, yet in reality I knew she was reveling in my hungry gaze, and proud of her body and the way it affected me. She thought it gave her a silent, subtle power – and I let her think that it did.”
“But it didn’t? You weren’t, like, obsessed with her beauty?” Leticia asked.
“No,” I said. I made a sweeping gesture with my hands. “Leticia there are millions of beautiful women in the world. They’re beautiful in different ways. Caroline wasn’t the only attractive woman I had ever seen. In your own way, your body is every bit as beautiful as hers.”
Oompf!
That was the sound of me jamming my foot into my mouth. The silence drew out into long awkward moments. Leticia said nothing. She stared fixedly down at her notebook, not daring even to glance up at me. I picked up the thread of the story and continued as if nothing had happened.
But it had.
“I told Caroline to remove her bikini bottoms,” I went on. “She lifted her face to mine and we locked eyes. She tugged at a string and the fabric fell away from the soft shaved cleft of her pussy. She took a sudden short breath, and then another one.
“She reached behind her to unfasten the strings of her top but I stopped her. ‘No,’ I said. ‘That won’t be necessary’.
“She looked at me quizzically. I told her she was to go out to the balcony and lean on the brick wall. She stared at me in silence, and in the background I could still hear the voices of the other women coming from down around the pool. I asked if Mrs. Solomon was one of the women at the pool. Caroline said she was.
“Mrs. Solomon was a big woman, with a loud voice. Her husband and I had worked on a couple of real estate deals together the year before. I told Caroline to lean on the balcony wall and talk to Mrs. Solomon about her children – and to keep the conversation going, no matter what.
“Caroline didn’t ask questions – although I could see confusion in her eyes and on her face. She walked out through the sliding glass doors and into the afternoon sunshine. I stood and watched her. I saw her lean on the wall – it came to the height of her navel. She stood on tiptoes and the shape of her tight bottom was captivating. She glanced a question over her shoulder to me one final time, and then called out to Mrs. Solomon and the other women, gathered just below our suite.
“I waited. I heard Mrs. Solomon’s voice, louder than all the other women, and I saw Caroline nod and wave. I went to my suitcase, and then out through the glass doors, keeping away from the edge of the wall. I set one of the outdoor furniture chairs in place behind Caroline and sat behind her.
“No one could see me. I was sitting close behind Caroline. She asked Mrs. Solomon how her oldest son was doing at school. I reached between Caroline’s legs and eased them apart with my hands. Caroline balked – something she was saying seemed to get stuck in the back of her throat – and then she finished the question, her voice becoming a little softer suddenly.
“Mrs. Solomon began to answer. Caroline was suddenly standing stiff with anticipation. She had her legs spread and I could feel the heat radiating from her pussy as I worked my fingers slowly up inside the soft flesh of her thigh. I felt her shudder. Her bottom clenched tight, and then relaxed. My hand drifted to the top of her other thigh, and the tips of my fingers grazed the swelling lips of her pussy. She flinched and went suddenly rigid. I heard her gasp, but she turned it into a laugh. Mrs. Solomon laughed along with her.
“I had packed the riding crop, the handcuffs and a dildo in the suitcase – all the props from the room upstairs. I had the dildo in my other hand. I rubbed the swollen bulb of it against Caroline’s pussy and she flinched in sudden surprise and shock. She g
lanced over her shoulder at me – saw me behind her. I snapped at her to turn around and do as I had ordered her. Even under the color of her skin, I could see her face was flushed.
“She carried on the conversation with Mrs. Solomon again. She arched her back, and the firm rounded shape of her perfect butt was thrust back at me like an invitation. She wiggled her feet wider apart. Mrs. Solomon said something and Caroline nodded and tossed her head to flick hair from her face. It was a perfectly natural gesture, but I could see the tiny signs of her tension and excitement in the way she held herself. I massaged the cleft of her sex with the head of the dildo until it glistened with the wetness of her growing arousal.
“That would have been like torture to her, Jonah,” Leticia muttered. “How long did this go on for?”
“About ten minutes,” I guessed. “I was very slow and deliberate. Sometimes I would ease the first inch of the toy inside her pussy, and withdraw it again. The dildo never stopped moving. I used it to massage her clit and to smear her sexy juices all over her pussy until she was wet and trembling. She wasn’t leaning on the wall anymore – she was clutching at it. Her entire lower body was tensing and then relaxing as the dildo hunted across the soft folds and the opening of her sex. Then the conversation with Mrs. Solomon suddenly faltered, and I snatched the dildo away as punishment and left her aching and straining with her body, rocking her hips and shifting her weight, trying to keep it pressed against her.
“When I had Caroline in a state of turmoil, I eased the dildo all the way inside her pussy and held it there. She made a low throaty moan of satisfaction, and she gently rolled her hips, like she was swaying from side to side. I held the base of the dildo with the palm of my hand between her spread legs so that the tips of my fingers were brushing against the sensitive nub of her clit. Caroline lowered her head and I saw she had her eyes closed, her lips parted. She was taking long deep breaths, as if the experience was something profoundly sensual that had spread from the center of her sex, out to every part of her aching body.
“I told her to say goodbye to the women gathered around the pool, and then I led her back inside our room.
“Caroline walked towards the bed. I took her arm and led her instead to a small two-seater sofa. I told her to lay back. She spread her legs wide and propped her head on the armrest. One long brown leg was draped across the back of the sofa so that her pussy was wide open for me. I knelt between her legs and drew my tongue slowly all the way up the lips of her pussy to the throbbing nub of her clit. Caroline hissed, and her hands reached for my head. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut and her mouth hung open. She was panting.
“I stopped suddenly. I didn’t need to say a word. The message was in my eyes. Caroline’s hands went to her side and bunched into fists. She clawed at the upholstery and dug her fingers into the cushions. I lowered my head slowly again. She felt my breath on her sex and she arched her back a little in anticipation. I made her wait for long torturous seconds – and then sucked her clit gently between my lips – and hummed.”
“Hummed?”
I nodded. “It’s like a dull vibrating sensation, especially if the man can generate the sound in the back of his throat and keep the sound a deep, low rumble,” I explained. “It’s a gentle way of stimulating a woman’s most erotic places without too much pressure. Some women are very sensitive. This works – not for every woman – but more often than not.”
Leticia flipped through several blank pages and made a separate note in the back of her book.
“How did Caroline react?”
“Humming against a woman’s clit is like a gradual stimulation,” I said. “It’s a bit like how a high-pitched sound shatters a glass. The vibrations build up gradually, until they radiate out beyond the woman’s clit, until her whole pussy starts to tingle. Caroline bit her lip and kept her eyes closed, concentrating. One of her hands reached for her breast and began to tease and pinch her nipple. I felt her slowly begin to grind her hips in tight circles and her breathing became hectic and agitated.
“I felt her clit hardening and seeming to grow between the soft press of my lips. I licked at the juices of her pussy, like a man dying from thirst.
“Caroline asked me if she could have an orgasm. I made her wait ten excruciating seconds, and then gave her my permission.
“Caroline went rigid, and her breath seized. There was a husky growl in her throat, and she clung to the edge of the sofa as if she might fall. She held her breath for long seconds. Her face twisted into a grimace of sweet torture – and then suddenly she exploded in a writhing tangle of arms and legs and groans of deep satisfaction.”
Leticia stopped mid-sentence and threw her pen down. She brushed hair from her face and stared at me in confusion and frustration.
“Jonah, I don’t understand this,” she said. “I don’t follow why you would go out of your way to give a submissive such as Caroline orgasms – I mean by making the effort to pleasure her. I thought BDSM was all about the man’s pleasure, and the woman received her satisfaction from submitting,” she said, and there was genuine passion in her voice as though this mattered and was important to her. “I thought it was more an emotional kind of satisfaction for the woman, not a physical thing like it is for the Master.”
I stopped pacing. I stood still. For a long moment I said nothing – I just stared into Leticia’s eyes, enjoying this new passionate side of her personality that I hadn’t witnessed before.
“Leticia, do you remember the definition I gave you for ‘do ut des’?” I asked kindly.
She nodded.
“It means ‘I give that you may give’. It might as well be the slogan for healthy BDSM relationships. The lifestyle is not about some man standing over a woman and using her body simply to take his pleasure. Yes, sometimes, in some circumstances, that happens. But in all of my BDSM experiences, it has been about reciprocal giving. I give pleasure, so that she will give back to me. No relationship can last if it is one-sided. There are women who receive a great deal of emotional satisfaction from giving pleasure, and they are less interested in their own sexual needs, but the key here is the word ‘give’ – not ‘take’. Sometimes a random BDSM scene might be just about the Master, but in any kind of an ongoing BDSM relationship, it is important that both the Master and the submissive are truly satisfied. Otherwise, it’s not a relationship worth being in, is it?”
“No,” Leticia agreed.
“Caroline was a highly sexual, erotic woman. Her satisfaction came in physical forms, not emotional. But there is more to it than that, Leticia,” I explained. “For Masters like me, orgasm denial is an important punishment technique in the training process.”
Leticia picked up her pen. “Should I write this down?”
I nodded. “If you want to fully understand, yes.”
I prowled to the edges of the kitchen, moving in and out of the shadows as I began to pace again. “I don’t believe in inflicting pain – especially on a woman. To me, pain is unworthy of a Master, and totally unnecessary. I know there are some submissives that are aroused by pain, but they’re not the ones I have ever chosen to take on. For me, it is crucial that the submissive knows the rules and knows the consequences for disobedience. My preferred method of punishment is to deny her orgasms. Depending on the severity of the infraction, I might deny her for a day, a week… sometimes maybe longer. But the whole punishment system depends on one thing…” I left the sentence unfinished, the answer hanging in the air.
“She must have orgasms,” Leticia said with slow realization.
I winked at her and smiled. “Precisely. If the submissive doesn’t know how intense and overwhelming I can make her orgasms, then she doesn’t appreciate what she stands to lose from disobeying me. If I give her orgasms, she fully appreciates what she might miss out on if she crosses the established lines. I find it works better than a riding crop, better than any other punishment.”
Leticia nodded. “It makes good sense.”
“S
o bringing Caroline to orgasm with my mouth on that sofa was more than about just pleasing her. It served many purposes.”
“What happened after Caroline orgasmed?”
“She was like a rag doll,” I said. “Her orgasm left her drained and satiated. I unbuckled my belt and went to where she lay. Her head was turned to the side, propped on the armrest of the sofa. My cock was hard. Caroline had her eyes closed, and her chest was still heaving as she caught her breath. I rubbed the hardness of my cock across her lips, and her mouth fell open obediently to me. I watched the swell of her breasts as she breathed, and held her mouth open for me to use.
“I was in no hurry. I enjoyed the feel of myself brushing across her wet tongue, and sliding deeper down her throat. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared up at me, her expression passive and willing. I covered her eyes with my hand, so that her focus became only the feel of my hardness between her lips.”
“You covered her eyes with your hand?”
“Yes. Guys are all visual. Women are much more sensory. Their arousal comes from so many different stimuli. I wanted Caroline to concentrate on the hardness of my cock, and on the soft wet sounds as she sucked me – and the sounds of my breathing as I became more aroused.”
“Why was that important?”
“Because I wanted Caroline to focus on me, and become aware of how I felt and the way I responded. I didn’t want her to read my expression, I wanted her to read and understand my body, so that she would begin to know and recognize the signs, even in the darkness.
“I clenched my muscles and my cock leapt and pulsed and thickened within her mouth. Caroline made a soft sound of delight. I did it again, and her sound became one of hunger.
“I slid myself from between her lips and reached for Caroline’s arm. She seemed to sense instinctively what I needed. She fell to her knees on the floor and bent herself over the sofa, parting her legs wide for me and resting her face on the cushion. She looked over her shoulder to me and her eyes were smoky.