Jonah watching Leticia walk down the aisle, tears in his eyes, their wedding day.
I stood there transfixed – frozen to the spot as the bridal music seemed to swell to a crescendo and fill the church. I blinked – felt the scald of tears welling up in my eyes.
Leticia.
My God, she was beautiful.
She glided down the long aisle of the church in a cloud of white, wearing a gown as beautiful, as soft, as elegant, as she was. She was radiant; I could see the glitter in her eyes and the mesmerizing glow in her smile. Every head turned in the church as she swept by, walking between the long aisles of admirers, friends and family.
I felt the ache in my heart swell so that it filled my whole chest and I could not breath. I felt the sweet beauty of her like a fist that squeezed at my heart until I felt myself wavering. I clutched at the curtain behind the altar and watched as Leticia finally reached the priest, and took the hand of her fiancé.
From behind the statues, heavy plush curtains and flowers, no one saw me. I took one long last look at Leticia and then glanced at my watch. My own wedding was just an hour from now. I had to hurry…
A note from Jason:
When I saw this scene suggestion, I had a sudden flash of inspiration and knew immediately how I wanted the scene to play out. This was just a very short piece of writing, but I got a great deal of satisfaction from still managing to put a surprise twist in the tail.
Two Sassy Chicks
April, 11th.
Leticia trying to convince Jonah to let her write a series of articles documenting their/her journey into BDSM.
I stared at Leticia and an icy cold fist of dread clutched at my heart. “You want to do what?” I asked slowly, as though in absolute disbelief.
“I want to write a series of articles about us – and about my introduction to the BDSM lifestyle. I think they might be helpful to other women who are curious about the subject.” Leticia spoke with calm assurance, as though her lines had been carefully rehearsed.
I felt the smolder of my anger. “No,” I said. “Never.”
Leticia made a shape with her mouth and hooded her eyes to show that she was disappointed, but not surprised.
“Leticia, I am a private man. I like my privacy. I never asked for all the attention that has come about because of your first articles. All I ever wanted was to tell my own story before I died.”
Leticia shook her head and made a chopping gesture with her hands as though she were cutting through my objections, using her body to add emphasis to her words. “Jonah! You can’t ignore what is going on in the world. You have a lot of people out there who are fascinated by you. They want to know more. Most of all they want to know how you learned so much about women – and how you can help them pass your knowledge on to the clueless, fumbling men in their lives!”
Two Sassy Chicks
April, 11th.
Jonah and Leticia watch a sunset/sunrise together.
The sun’s last golden rays spilled across the sky, and the world around us became a painter’s palette of reds and purples and yellows.
I wrapped my arm around Leticia’s shoulder, pulled her close against me as we sat on the beach staring up into the sky. The world was still and quiet. There was just the sound of the ocean, waves rushing up over the soft white sand and then receding again in an endless rhythm of background sound.
“Jonah, what will become of us?” Leticia asked softly.
I shook my head. “I honestly don’t know,” I admitted, and then I sighed. “Life has a habit of creating unexpected challenges,” I said, frowning. Somehow it didn’t seem wise enough – philosophical enough for a moment like this – for a time like right now. But it was the best I could do. I sighed again. “Every day is a gift, Leticia. Some people are gifted less days than others. We can only make the most of what is given to us, so that we leave this world a better place for having been here.”
Leticia sighed. She felt small and fragile in my arms. We stared up at the first star, and then the night came down with a rush so that we were alone and clinging to each other in the darkness of not knowing…
A note from Jason:
I am sure that when I chose this scene suggestion as the very last scene for the world tour, most readers would have been puzzled as to why I would select something so simple. But I had an idea. I wanted to ‘sign off’ from the World Tour with some kind of poignant paragraph that was full of feeling and emotion rather than action.
A note from Jason:
The following scenes were written after the end of the World Tour. As I was compiling this eBook, I decided to create 30 brand new paragraphs of content, and so I put a call out for additional suggestions from followers of my Facebook page. These paragraphs that follow are the result…
New Paragraph 1
Jonah blindfolding Leticia and asking her what she wants him to do to her.
“Can you see anything?”
Leticia shuddered nervously, a tremble of anticipation running down her spine. She licked her lips. “No.”
I tied the silk scarf at the back of her head into a simple knot and then rested my hands on her shoulders.
Leticia had stripped down to just her bra and panties and my fingers slid the straps of her bra down her arms, and then I stepped away.
For a long time I said nothing, circling where Leticia stood, enjoying the sight of her lithe, slender body from every angle like an art appreciator admiring a classic sculpture.
She was exquisite in every way: her legs were long and slender with the hint of toned muscle at her calves and thighs, the waist was tiny, her body flared into curves like a Grecian vase.
“What are you thinking?” I asked. My voice came from behind her and she turned her head unexpectedly towards the sound.
“I am… I am wondering what you’re going to do to me?” Leticia replied, not with uncertainty but rather with a hint of excitement.
I moved again, my steps soundless on the thick carpet, so that when I spoke next it was with my mouth close against her ear. “That depends on whether you are going to be a good girl for me, or whether you’re going to be bad.”
The warmth of my breath against Leticia’s ear and on her neck made her shiver. “What… what is the difference?” she asked softly.
“There’s a big difference,” I husked. “Good girls go to heaven… and bad girls go everywhere!”
New Paragraph 2
Jonah requires Leticia to fulfill some exhibitionist fantasies of his, knowing it would make her uncomfortable.
“Go to the window,” I said, and by the tone of my voice Leticia could tell that it was a command.
Leticia walked stiffly towards the big, open window and stood there, staring out at the apartment buildings on the opposite side of the street and the bustle of people swarming on the sidewalks below.
“Now unbutton your blouse.” I watched from the sofa as Leticia slowly began to unfasten her top.
“Now take it off.”
Leticia glanced over her shoulder at me with a look of stricken panic. I stared back at her, my eyes like flint, my attitude resolute and demanding. There was a plea in Leticia’s eyes, but I ignored it. “I won’t ask again,” I warned.
I heard Leticia sigh and then slowly she slid the soft, shimmering fabric off her shoulders and then let the blouse fall like a silken curtain around her feet. She stood there with her back to me, her body exposed to the world. I got up from the sofa and crossed the living room until I was standing close behind her. I grazed a tantalizing finger down her spine and she arched her back involuntarily like a cat. She wore no bra.
“Good girl,” I said softly and slid one hand around until I was cupping the firm, warm flesh of her breast. Her nipple was hard. Leticia gasped, and I felt her sway on her feet, embarrassed but aroused.
New Paragraph 3
Jonah using handcuffs on Leticia in the training room.
I withdrew the handcuffs from the drawer and set them on the table. The sound
of the metal on polished wood was a loud clatter. Leticia looked down at the cuffs and her expression became horrified. She took an urgent step back.
“What are the handcuffs for?” Leticia shot me a sharp glance.
“For you,” I said calmly.
Leticia backed away another step. “Jonah, I have never worn handcuffs. I… I don’t know if I feel comfortable doing this.”
I picked up the handcuffs and held them up for Leticia to see clearly. “They are perfectly safe, Leticia. Can you see the little catch? That means you can release yourself at any time. They’re not real, but they look real.”
Leticia’s wild expression remained fixed. “I don’t think I can do this,” she said.
I glared at her, my disappointment showing. “How will you know if you never try?”
Leticia said nothing, and in that moment I saw her in the same light I had seen her the first time she had come to interview me: I saw her as a naïve, innocent little girl who was desperately trying to become a woman and struggling because of her small town background and attitude to life.
“We cannot move forward until you grow up and begin to learn the art of submission,” I said calmly. “It is not my role as your master to force you to do anything you do not want, but it is your responsibility as a woman who is fascinated by the BDSM lifestyle to overcome your fears and begin to explore what you are truly capable of.”
New Paragraph 4
Leticia begging Jonah to let her come during an anticipation lesson.
The sweet agony of restraint was written across Leticia’s face, and at that moment she was perhaps more beautiful than I had ever seen her before. Her eyes were hooded, her lips parted and moist. She was panting – taking short, heaving gasps of breath that made her breasts rise and swell and press hard against the tight fabric of her t-shirt.
“Please… Please can I come?”
I eased my hand away from between her spread legs and Leticia thrust her hips urgently, as though trying to keep her body in contact with my fingers. She was wet and trembling – teetering on the precipice of an orgasm.
“Not yet,” I said softly.
Leticia threw back her head in frustration and groaned aloud. I took one of my fingers that had been teasing her clit and pussy and slid it across her lips. She sucked my finger into her mouth. “Tell me how you taste?” I asked.
I slid my finger slowly from between her lips and Leticia groaned again. “Nice,” she said.
I shook my head. “No… nice does not describe the taste of your pussy, Leticia. When you can tell me how it tastes to have the scent of you on your lips and tongue, I will let you orgasm.”
Leticia became alert suddenly, sensing a chance to be released. “I taste delicious,” she said. “I taste like honey.”
That made me smile. She had remembered a vital part of our first interviews, and I nodded my approval. “Good girl,” I soothed, “Now you can make yourself come.”
New Paragraph 5
Jonah and Caroline seduce another woman.
Caroline used her hip to push herself away from the kitchen counter and I watched the way she deliberately swayed her body as she crossed the tiled floor of the foyer and began to climb the steps to my office. She was doing it on purpose of course – swinging her legs from her waist so that with every step the denim of her shorts rucked between the cleft of her thighs as her long brown legs carried her out of sight.
I waited. I didn’t want to, but nor did I want to interrupt. I pictured Rikki like some timid, frightened forest animal, and I worried that she may be startled away from the snare of Caroline’s charms. Ten minutes passed; ten long, agonizing minutes of frustrating silence, where my thoughts and imagination went into overdrive as I stared up expectantly towards my office door. I pictured Caroline unbuttoning the front of Rikki’s dress and imagined my submissive’s mouth exploring the soft flesh of Rikki’s throat as she trailed her lips down towards the shape of Rikki’s breasts. Erotic images of the two beautiful young women, entwined together in a tangle of long, brown limbs, swam before my eyes. I imagined the dampness of their sweating bodies, leaving perfumed soft wet marks across my desk.
I took the stairs slowly, drawing out the anticipation of what I might find when I pushed back the office door. I lingered on the threshold, and counted to ten. I could hear muffled, strained sounds from beyond the door. I heard a soft, breathless moan of desire and the rustle of fabric. I heard a sudden, sharp intake of breath and then a woman’s whispered voice.
I pushed open the door slowly – it swung back on noiseless hinges and revealed my upstairs office bathed in a shaft of warm sunlight through the window. Tiny dust particles hung suspended in the air, and my eyes followed the shaft of light to the two young women’s bodies wrapped around each other on the soft leather of my office chair. Both of the women were naked. I could see Caroline’s back, her long brown hair swishing across her shoulder blades and the perfect arch of her spine down to the narrowness of her waist and the flare of her hips. She was sitting astride the naked body of Rikki who was leaning back in my chair with Caroline straddling her lap. I watched in silence as my submissive’s head dipped lower, and then heard the two girls moaning softly around a long, passionate kiss.
New Paragraph 6
Jonah in a business meeting.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You’re the one who screwed this deal up.”
“No,” the man shook his head, seeming to cringe under the blowtorch of my gaze.
I circled the room, and the man’s head swiveled to follow me.
“I worked on this deal for six months,” I said. “I organized the financing, had all the banks in place, and now I find that you have double crossed me. How do you think I feel right now?”
“Honestly,” the man made a pleading gesture with his hands, “Mr. Noble, it wasn’t me.”
I slammed my fist down on the desk. “Liar!”
The man flinched, and his face went white. There was a nervous twitch at the corner of his eye, and a light sheen of sweat across his brow. His face looked waxen, as though carved from marble.
“You’re lying to me,” I hissed.
The man went rigid in his chair, and then slumped dramatically. His shoulders bunched, and his expression became stricken with fear. He nodded his head slowly. “Okay… yes… I betrayed you.”
New Paragraph 7
Jason Luke and Jonah discussing women.
“Women marry men thinking that they can change them,” I said. “And men marry women hoping they will never change.”
Jason Luke stared at me hard. We were sitting across a table from each other in a busy downtown restaurant.
“Very profound,” Jason Luke inclined his head. “But not very original. They are my thoughts you are repeating. In fact, every damn word you say comes out of my head. Don’t you realize that?”
I stared at the author but said nothing, and I realized with a sudden shock that it was because he had stopped writing my lines. Jason Luke smiled and arched an eyebrow pointedly. “So in future, Jonah Noble, you will show me a little more respect… otherwise the very next thing you will do is stand up on this table in the middle of this restaurant and announce that you’re a female cross-dresser who has a fetish for flowerpots.”
I went white. The bastard had me.
New Paragraph 8
Jonah and Leticia talking about feelings.
Leticia paused and turned her head towards me as though trying to see me in some new light. “You’re not like other men I know, Jonah,” she said thoughtfully. “Most men aren’t so open about their feelings and emotions. It’s been my experience that men tend to shut down rather than discuss what’s bothering them. Most men I’ve met in my life feel like they need to bottle everything up – solve everything themselves.”
I shrugged. “Leticia, I’ve always believed that a problem shared is a problem halved. If I have something that’s bothering me and I confide in you then somehow the problem seems less. Oft
en talking about a problem with someone I trust can give me a new perspective.”
Leticia nodded. “Most men don’t seem quite so smart.”
I smiled. “I can’t expect you, or anyone else to read my mind. That is why I have always believed it’s best to say what is on your mind, and express those thoughts in a clear, articulate way, so there can be no confusion and no misunderstanding. Some people find my attitude confronting. I just call it honesty.”
Leticia smiled, and it was a slow warm smile of appreciation and understanding. “Jonah Noble, I think God broke the mold when he made you.”
New Paragraph 9
Jonah loses his temper.
The instinctive urge to kill rose up within me like a dark, unholy rage. I felt my hands bunch into fists and I screwed my eyes tightly shut. I could clearly imagine my hands wrapping tight around the man’s throat, my fingers squeezing remorselessly, coming slowly together as my thumbs crushed his larynx. In my mind I saw the man’s face turning purple, saw his eyes beginning to bulge as I crushed the life out of him. I heard the sawing rasp of pained breathing, and I clung to the image fiercely until, at last, I opened my eyes and saw the man still standing there.
He was sobbing.
I unclenched my fists, and with a tremendous effort of will, I cast off the murderous urge. The mist of red rage went from my eyes and I took a deep breath. In an instant, I changed, and suddenly I was icy calm, and all the more menacing because of it.