Three seconds of ticking silence.
“Decide!”
Nancy seemed to have shrunk. The gloating sense of smug satisfaction on her face had dissolved. She searched my eyes one last time, and saw nothing but blackness and a face carved in stone. She reached for the car door, her cheeks scalded with humiliation.
I watched Nancy step up onto the curb and walk towards the intersection. Her legs were stilted and jerky. She had her hands clasped in front of her. The night air was crisp, so that I could see the steam of her breath. She reached a dark shadow under the umbrella of a tree and looked back at me, her body drawn tense into a silent plea.
I did nothing.
After a long moment she turned and walked in her lingerie all the way to the street corner.
The traffic across the intersection was sparse – perhaps a vehicle every ten or fifteen seconds. Most of them cruised by. A couple slowed, then accelerated away. I lost sight of Nancy as she went around the corner. A moment later she came back into view, prowling anxiously, her eyes fixed on where I sat watching.
I waited for six minutes – long enough for her to know I was serious – long enough for her to understand that she no longer had control of her sex life or her emotions.
I started the car and cruised to the intersection. Nancy saw me coming and froze like a deer caught in the headlights. I pulled up alongside her and pushed the passenger door open. She reached for it gratefully. In the background, above the burble of the car’s engine, I could hear the endless drone of the city.
Nancy leaned inside the car door. I held up a hand to stop her.
“No,” I said. “First, you get down on your knees and beg me to forgive you.”
Nancy’s mouth gaped open. Something dark and liquid moved behind her eyes. I stared at her in a trial of willpower. She lowered her gaze. Her expression faltered and then she sunk slowly down to the blacktop and looked at me with a wrench of beseeching appeal. “I promise to submit and serve you,” she said. Her voice cracked. She choked back a sob. I could see a glitter of tears welling in her eyes. “And I promise I’ll never try to manipulate you again… Master.”
Chapter 22.
When we reached Nancy’s apartment I parked the car out on the street rather than use the underground parking garage. I could see the shadow of a doorman inside the building. He was wandering around aimless and bored. He had a brown uniform shirt on and matching pants.
“What floor do you live on?”
“The ninth,” Nancy said pensively. She was still stinging from her humiliation.
“Put your dress on.”
I heard Nancy gulp with relief. She nodded her head with a tragic kind of gratitude and shucked herself back into her gown.
We got out of the car. Nancy smoothed her dress down her thighs and took a deep breath. She checked her reflection in the car window and pressed at her hair. I snatched her hand possessively and we walked up the stairs and through the double glass doors.
The doorman gave Nancy a silent smile and me a nod of the head. He was an older guy with forgettable features who carried himself with the weary listlessness of someone who was filling in the last years of his life and waiting to die.
Nancy and I went to the elevator and I pushed the button. The building was silent. It was an upmarket complex – lots of marble and dark timber. There were potted plants in the foyer and a couple of landscape paintings on the walls.
“Give me your apartment key,” I insisted.
Nancy dug obediently into her little clasp bag and handed me a key with a black plastic tag attached. I held it up. “I want a key cut for myself – tomorrow,” I said. “And next time you see the doorman, you tell him I am a friend of yours and I will be visiting you a lot.”
Nancy nodded. The elevator doors whispered open. We stepped inside.
As soon as the doors glided shut, I exploded into movement.
With the ease that only comes from practice and experience, I turned Nancy round and pressed her up against a wall so she had her face to the cool stainless steel. She let out a choked shriek of shock, and then one of my hands wrapped around her mouth, muffling the sound. I thrust my free hand up beneath her dress until my palm was rubbing her pussy through the soaked damp heat of her panties.
She stood like a cop was frisking her. Her legs were splayed, her hands planted above her head against the wall. She was trembling with arousal. Her dress was bunched around her hips and she started to pant uncontrollably.
“This is what you can expect,” I rasped with my mouth close to her ear, my body pressing her so she could not move. She was completely vulnerable. “You can expect me to take you and use you whenever I want to – regardless of where we are, regardless of who is around us.” My hand slipped inside the silk of her panties and I felt the wetness of her. She was shaved, soft and smooth and the scent of her arousal hung in the air like a heady perfume. I growled, the sound thick with lust.
Nancy bucked her hips, and then pushed herself back against me provocatively. It was an instinctive gesture – something she had no control over. I slapped her bottom and she sunk her teeth into the fingers of my hand to stifle her moan of pleasure. I pressed two of my fingers deep inside her pussy and she buckled at the waist, then went soft as sexual need overwhelmed her.
Nancy began to gyrate on my fingers, rocking her hips in a slow provocative dance, her movements erotic and sensual, but for her own satisfaction only. I could see the smudged reflection of her face in the stainless steel of the wall. Her eyes were shut, her brow furrowed in deep concentration. She was focusing on her pussy, alert and sensitive to each new sensation as my fingers began to slide in and out of her. I took my hand from her mouth and she gasped. I slid my fingers down around her neck. It was enough to spark a fresh moan of desire. I tightened my grip around her throat and Nancy whimpered. “Yes!” she gasped. “God, yes!”
It was a revealing moment. The tighter my grip on her throat, the more aroused Nancy became. She thrashed her head from side to side and drove herself hard onto my plunging fingers. Her eyes flew wide. She licked her lips and her legs shuffled shamelessly wider apart to give me better access. She was sobbing with an intense craving for release.
I glanced at the digital counter by the elevator door. The 6th floor slid by.
I took a sudden step back. My cock was hard within my jeans. The rush of Nancy’s wet arousal was coated on my fingers. I held my hand to my face and inhaled the aroma. Nancy turned, wild eyed and heaving for air. Her panties had slid down her thighs. Her face was flushed deep red. She clutched at her underwear with trembling fingers and then dabbed at her throat, the burn of my touch still simmering on her skin.
“Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. “No. I wanted more,” she said. Her voice was reedy and unsteady, as if she had run up a flight of stairs. The elevator counter showed we were passing the 8th floor. Nancy combed her fingers through her hair and took three deep breaths.
When the elevator yo-yoed to a stop, we stepped out into a tastefully decorated passageway with numbered doors on either side. The walls were lined with framed paintings and the carpet was plush. The air smelled of artificial pine freshener. There were recessed lights in the ceiling every twenty feet. The corridor was empty.
“Which apartment is yours?”
“906 – the one at the end,” she gestured with a nod of her head. I followed her to her front door. Nancy stopped and kicked off her heels, clutched them in her hand, then unlocked the door and pushed it open.
I stepped into a large apartment that had all the cozy charm of a scientist’s laboratory. The walls were white, the furniture was white, the carpet was a soft muted shade of grey. I could smell the lingering odor of cigarette smoke. I followed Nancy into a wide kitchen area with white cupboards and grey floor tiles. The only color I could see came from a large potted plant that was in a corner beside a set of sliding glass doors. I went across the living area. The doors opened onto a small priva
te balcony that projected out over the front of the building. I looked down to where my car was parked and then took in the view of the city, lights twinkling in the darkness and the sound of traffic just a distant hum. Carried on the night was the whisper of a cool breeze.
“Nice,” I said as I came back inside through the glass doors. I glanced at the potted plant and realized it was plastic. “Did you do the decorating?” That was sarcasm.
“I’ve never had time to decorate,” she said without noticing. “I’m barely here. Most of my time is spent at the office. The apartment…” she looked around like she was seeing the place for the first time and shrugged her shoulders… “Well it’s just a place to sleep and eat.”
I smiled meaningfully. “And fuck,” I finished her sentence. “And you will be doing a lot of that, I can promise you.”
Nancy nodded her head. She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of champagne and two tall glasses. I arched an eyebrow. “You were confident,” I taunted her.
Nancy blinked and then blushed like a child caught red-handed. “I was hopeful,” she admitted sheepishly.
“Master!” I snapped.
She lowered her eyes and bowed her head. “I was hopeful, Master,” she repeated the words in a whisper.
I stalked across to the kitchen. Nancy hurriedly set the champagne and glasses down on the counter. “Every time you speak when you are serving me you will call me Master,” I said in a low menacing voice. “Do you understand that?”
Nancy nodded her head. “I’m sorry… Master.”
I took her chin in the cup of my hand and lifted her face to mine and then kissed her with such a ferocity of passion and desire that she reeled back before the force of me. Her bottom pressed against the edge of a counter and she bowed her back like a tree bending before a gale. I dominated her, overpowered her. Her lips were soft, her mouth opened to welcome my tongue. I wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her against the hardness of my cock so she understood my need.
I felt Nancy’s hands go to my shoulders but that was not what I wanted. I trapped her wrist and pushed it down between our bodies. “Rub my cock,” I hissed.
Nancy’s hand came alive. I felt her tugging at my belt with desperate fingers while my own hand forced her dress off her shoulders and unsnapped the clasp of her bra. Her breasts spilled out, the flesh of her soft and warm, the nipples delicate as rosebuds. I dipped my head and sucked her into my mouth. Nancy started to sway on her feet. She reached down inside my jeans. I felt her fingers wrap around my shaft and she made a soft little sound of delight.
Nancy’s nipple swelled between my lips. I pushed the dress all the way down over her hips and then turned her around so that she was folded over the kitchen counter.
Nancy spread her legs. I tugged her panties aside and pressed the swollen tip of my cock against the slick wetness of her pussy. She clenched her hands into fists. I pushed my palm into the middle of her back, pinning her to the cool countertop, and with my other hand I slowly guided myself deep inside her.
The grip of Nancy’s pussy was like a velvety glove. Her body went rigid. I threw my head back and growled as her muscles pulsed and rippled around me. For a long moment I was satisfied just to be inside her. Nancy slowly relaxed. She was hot and tight. My cock tingled with arousal. I eased myself back and then slowly filled her again, thrusting with my hips until our bodies were locked together.
Nancy whimpered. Her hands fisted and then relaxed as though keeping time with the clench and release of her pussy. I thrust into her again and her whole body rocked.
“This is for me,” my breath rasped ragged in my throat. “You are not to come!”
Nancy twisted her head round, aghast. Her mouth was open, her lips inflamed and swollen from the smolder of my kisses. She saw the look in my eyes – recognized instantly that I was not to be questioned. She wrenched her eyes tightly shut as though to restrain herself would take all of her will.
I plunged myself into Nancy’s pussy, balanced on the balls of my feet, my weight slamming back and forth as the rhythm of passion rose to a frenetic crescendo. Nancy met each thrust with desire and desperation, driving me deeper inside her. Her legs began to tremble, and the sound of our bodies slamming together was like a beat beneath the rasp of our sawing breaths.
I felt myself swelling. I felt the hardness of me become an ache. I reeled away on the brink of exploding and Nancy fell instinctively to her knees. She opened her mouth wide and engulfed me as the first pinwheels of blinding light detonated behind my eyes. I felt myself lunge forward and then a tremor ran down my legs and I snatched for the counter. My cock pulsed, and then pulsed again. Nancy made soft moaning sounds as my come spilled across her lips and she swallowed like she was dying of thirst.
Everything came back to me through a haze. Sound seemed muted, and my vision was blurred. I could feel myself gasping for breath and the deep heave of my chest. I shook my head to clear my senses.
Nancy was still on her knees before me. She was licking her fingers, her eyes enormous and somehow soulful with satisfaction. Her face was lifted to mine expectantly.
“You did well,” I admitted grudgingly. She had done very well.
“Thank you. Master,” she said softly.
“Did you come?”
She shook her head. I believed her. I nodded. “Good girl. I know it might seem unreasonable, but I am not a selfish man. You will get your orgasm and many more… tomorrow.”
Nancy accepted my decision, but she didn’t understand. I could see that in the flicker behind her eyes. I lifted her to her feet.
“The first thing you must learn is that to submit means surrender and sacrifice. You forsake your own sexual needs and you commit yourself to the giving of pleasure. By doing that with enthusiasm and passion, so you are rewarded by receiving pleasure. Does that make sense?”
Nancy nodded slowly. Maybe there had been a better way of explaining. “For now, I want you to understand you must give in order to receive, Nancy. This whole thing stopped being about you when we were driving here tonight.” As I said the words her face darkened as though she was recalling her humiliation on the street corner. “From now on, it’s about serving your Master. Dedicate yourself to that completely – and trust me.”
I fastened my jeans and scooped up my car keys. Nancy looked crestfallen. She stood amongst the tangle of her clothes with her hands clasped before her.
“Are… are you leaving, Master?” she asked in a tremulous breath.
“Yes,” I said. “I will be back tomorrow.”
She started to ask another question – it was right on the tip of her tongue. She saw the warning glare in my eyes and bit down on the words.
Better!
“I will come back tomorrow night,” I said without telling her a time. I wanted her waiting. “And when I arrive, you had better be wet… and rested, because you won’t be getting much sleep.”
Chapter 23.
As I drove back to my apartment, I tried to avoid over analyzing the events of the night. Hindsight and insightful reflection are the things best left to great minds and non-fiction authors. I was just a guy trying to find happiness. My journey through life had been filled with unexpected diversions and questionable decisions. I worked on the theory that if I made a hundred choices and got fifty-one of them right, I was doing a little better than the average guy.
As far as philosophies go it was thin – I know, but that’s how I reconcile some of the more stupid things I had done in the past.
Deciding to train Nancy as my submissive was the kind of choice I was likely to regret, but not in a way that would impact my life. The stakes weren’t high – it either worked, or it was a flaming disaster that exploded in a fireball.
My money was on the latter.
When I got back to my apartment I was wide awake.
I settled down with an Alistair Maclean adventure novel, and suddenly I remembered April’s German girlfriend, Renata, and her intui
tive suggestion that my own life up until now had been an adventure story tinged with tragedy. I thought about that…
Tragedy.
I grunted. Everyone has dark secrets – terrible moments of utter despair and devastation. I buried my skeletons deep: so deep they could never rise to the surface…
I opened a beer and read the old book from cover to cover before daylight started creeping through a crack in the window curtains, and my body finally craved sleep.
When I woke it was late afternoon…
…and I was screaming through a nightmare.
Chapter 24.
I arrived out front of Nancy’s apartment at 7pm and sat comfortably in the silence while I waited for ten minutes before entering the building.
Domination is all about the details.
When most people are expecting visitors, the way Nancy was expecting me, they would naturally anticipate me to arrive on the hour – 7pm, 8pm… maybe 9pm. By sitting in the car for ten minutes I was waiting long enough for her to give up hope that I would arrive at 7pm, and start anticipating my arrival at the next hour.
I wanted her off balance. I wanted her to feel like she could never predict my actions, my mood, or my motivation. Her submission relied on us building a bond of trust, and on her surrendering all sense of control.
Like I said, domination is in the details, and it’s something I have given a lot of thought to over my years in the lifestyle. A Master can’t expect to make sweeping changes to a submissive’s personality immediately. Submission is like the drip effect – change needs to be gradual and consistent. It needs to be relentless, and yet in such small increments that the submissive’s world is not completely torn apart – her life needs to be dismantled and rebuilt in manageable stages. I had shocked and shaken Nancy the night before. Now the process began to transform her – to entice her to embrace her submissive side completely.