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Jonah with a submissive woman in the training room.
“Bend over the table!” my voice cracked like a whip. “And spread your legs.”
The woman obeyed immediately, folding herself forward at the waist and reaching across the polished timber surface of the training room table to grip the edges with her hands. She was completely naked – a blonde woman with a stunning figure and an all-over brown tan. She had been introduced to me several weeks ago, and this was the third time I had brought her to the house for training.
The woman turned her head to the side and pressed her cheek against the table surface. Her eyes were closed. I had the riding crop in my hand and I casually stepped up behind the woman and used the soft, flat pad at the end of the crop to trace a line all the way from her ankles up to the heat between her thighs and then back down the other leg. Her pussy was shaved smooth: the pouting folds of her sex moist and slick with her arousal.
“When I give you a command, you will obey me immediately,” I growled.
“Yes, Master,” the woman’s response was immediate.
“Who does your body belong to?”
“You, Master!”
There was a long silence and I paced around the room, out of sight of the woman, tapping the riding crop lightly against my leg as I walked. All the time I kept my eyes on the woman’s body, abstractly admiring the muscle tone in her calves and thighs. She was very attractive, and very obedient.
She was everything I wanted in a woman…
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Jonah talking to Leticia about controlling her orgasms.
“Learning how to contain your urge to orgasm is very important, if you truly wish to be an accomplished submissive,” I explained.
Leticia was standing before me with her hands cuffed behind her back. She was naked, wearing only high heels. Her legs were spread and her head was lowered demurely.
“As a submissive your body is my property, and as such it is mine to do with as I please.” I stepped behind Leticia and wrapped my fingers around her throat in a possessive gesture. “That means your orgasms are mine as well,” I explained in a harsh whisper, my mouth close to her ear. “From today onwards you will come only when I give you permission to do so. Do you understand this?”
Leticia nodded. “Yes.”
I felt the vibrations of her voice through my fingertips. She swallowed nervously.
“I will tease you mercilessly,” I said. “I will drive you to the brink of ecstasy and make you teeter there for as long as it pleases me before I allow you your release. You must learn to give your body to me in every way so that my pleasure becomes your pleasure.”
I slid my hand down from Leticia’s throat to cup the firm resilient flesh of one breast. I pinched the nipple between my fingers until it jutted stiff and hard.
Leticia gave a sexually tortured little gasp.
“I want to please you,” her voice was tremulous.
“Oh, you will please me,” I said knowingly. “That’s not in doubt. The only question that remains regarding your training, Leticia, is whether you learn to please me the easy way or the very, very hard way.” I smiled and there was a wolfish glint of menace and determination in my eyes.
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Jonah Noble alone in his living room.
I drifted around the edges of the room with a glass of whisky in my hand, swilling the contents so that the cubes of ice tapped lightly against the crystal glass. It was dark and it was late. There was a fire burning, casting flickering leaps of orange light into the room but leaving the corners in gloom.
I sprawled into the leather chair and my eyes wandered across the collection of murky oil paintings that hung on the walls. They were not my paintings – they were artworks my father had gathered over the years, depicting rural landscape scenes by some of the country’s finest artists. My eyes settled on one particular painting in a heavy, gold frame. It was an oil painting, maybe a hundred years old, so that the paint had crazed and cracked into a fine spider web and the original colors had been muted by dust and a century of cigar smoke.
It was a dark, glum place to hide such a fine painting. It deserved to be hung in some sunny, light-filled room… And I smiled wryly at the irony. Wasn’t I doing the same? Wasn’t I lurking and living in the dark shadows of this big, empty house? Shouldn’t I brush off the dust and take myself out into the light where people were living lives and the colors were brighter?
For so long this house had been a refuge – a place where I could hide away from the world. For so long that it had become a prison…
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Jonah giving advice to another man about making love to women.
“You are a hypocrite,” I told the man.
We were sitting in a busy, roadside café. There were tables and chairs on the sidewalk and I had been enjoying the warm, morning atmosphere when the man suddenly recognized me and sat down to seek my advice.
He wanted to know about the differences between pleasing a woman with oral sex and the way his wife pleased him.
“You are a hypocrite, because you have a double standard,” I told the man after he explained his problem. “You expect your wife to go down on you and you expect her to swallow when you orgasm. But from what you have just told me, you don’t enjoy using your mouth in the same way to give your wife the same kind of pleasure.”
The man looked affronted. “Well, it’s totally different, isn’t it?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not. If you can’t use your mouth and tongue to pleasure your wife and keep your mouth there as she orgasms, then why would you expect your wife to do the same thing for you?”
The man sat back. I could tell by his expression that he didn’t enjoy hearing the truth. He nodded slowly. “When my wife is going down on me, she always stops before I orgasm and uses her hand instead. She turns her head away.”
“And when you go down on your wife…?”
The man shrugged. “After a few minutes, I’ve had enough,” he confessed. “I mean, I really only do it to get her wet.”
I nodded and frowned at the same time. “You should try using your mouth and tongue to pleasure your wife for as long as it takes for her to orgasm – and when she orgasms you should keep your mouth and tongue there until the orgasm passes,” I pointed a knowing finger at the man. “I think if you do that, you will find your wife very happy to return the favor for you.”
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How Leticia feels when she left Jonah for the last time.
Leticia drove out through the gates, and set the car on the winding mountain road. Everything was a blur – her eyes were swimming with tears, her hands trembling on the wheel. There was a wild roar of sound in her ears, and an impossible wrenching pain that tore at her heart.
The car merged into traffic, but it seemed to be happening without Leticia’s conscious control. She seemed lost, her emotions tossed about like a piece of driftwood in a raging sea. The anger and the desolate despair came to her in crashing waves so that as she drove, the road ahead began to swim before her eyes and finally she wrenched the wheel over and pulled the car onto the grassy shoulder.
Cars rushed passed in the night.
Leticia closed her eyes and let the pain and emotional agony overwhelm her. She cried until she felt her heart break in two, and then she pounded the steering wheel in frustration with the palm of her hand and screamed aloud in the confines of the car until she could scream no more.
Leticia knew that the pain she felt was a wound too deep and too wide to ever heal. Jonah Noble would be a scar on her heart until the day she died.
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Jonah musing on what life might hold if his life wasn’t to be cut short.
I had never been an envious man until the day I found out I was going to die.
Suddenly, I envied everyone around me – I envied the uncertainty and the excitement of their lives. But most of all,
I envied everyone because they had a future, and I did not.
Being told that I had an inoperable brain tumor robbed me of the wonders and marvels of life’s unexpected adventures, for suddenly I knew I was going to die and I knew it would happen within a limited time.
Limits…
For all those people around me that I envied, the joy for them was a life without limits. They had the privilege of planning lives and futures together that I no longer had.
They had the privilege of being able to dream about distant days, lovers they were yet to meet, homes they would one day build, and fortunes they might one day make. They had the luxury of a life limited only by their imagination and the hand of God.
For me, the hand of God had already struck me down – had already squeezed the life out of me before I had died.
There was no adventure remaining – there was only the certainty that within two years I would be dead, and with that certainty was swept away all my hopes and dreams.
Certain death was like a black shroud draped over my shoulders. It hung heavy and clung to me – it bore down on me like a massive weight that made it impossible to rise above and see any glimmer of light.
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Jonah interviews Leticia for his own article.
“Let’s turn the tables,” I suggested to Leticia carefully. “You have interviewed me so many times and asked me so many questions about sex, women and BDSM – and I have done my best to answer all of your questions honestly. Now, I think it might be time that I got to ask you a few questions Leticia…”
Leticia flinched as though my suggestion had struck her with the force of a slap in the face. She blinked and sat quietly for a long moment and then nodded with guarded reserve. “Okay…” she said slowly. “What would you ask me about, Jonah?”
“Sex.”
Leticia squirmed on the sofa and folded her arms in a defensive gesture that was mirrored by her sudden wary expression. She looked away and then her eyes came slowly back to me. “I don’t think I would be a very good subject for an interview about my sexual past,” she said quietly.
I shook my head. “On the contrary, Leticia,” I said. “Whilst your answers might not make newspaper headlines, they would certainly be fascinating to me.”
Leticia crossed her legs – her body language was now entirely closed off to me. She inclined her head. “One question,” she offered.
I didn’t need to think. I didn’t need to carefully choose which question to ask. There was one question that always defined a woman’s sex life. “Did your former boyfriend make you come with his mouth?”
Leticia looked away again, and it was a long time before she brought her eyes back to mine. Maybe she had been recalling her sex life with her former boyfriend, but I doubted it.
“No,” she said softly. “He never really tried, and after a few brief efforts he gave up.”
I nodded.
If a woman is with a man who does not spend the time to learn how to please her with his mouth then it had always been my experience that the relationship was one sided and immensely frustrating for the woman. I had no doubt Leticia fit perfectly into my theory…
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Leticia asking Jonah if he has ever had a threesome.
“You seem to have all the answers when it comes to understanding women and how a man should sexually satisfy them,” Leticia began. “All that experience you’ve gained, Jonah – did that come to you one woman at a time?”
I stopped pacing and frowned. I had been striding back and forth across the room with my hands thrust deep in my pockets, but Leticia’s unexpected question gave me pause.
“What do you mean exactly?”
Leticia shrugged as if the question was off-hand and of no real importance, but I saw the calculating glint in her eye. “I mean have you ever been with more than one woman at a time?”
“A threesome?”
“Yes – you with two women.”
“Of course,” I said. “I have had several wonderful encounters with two women at the same time. Some of those encounters were as a Master with two submissives, and some of the encounters were merely as a man with two women.”
Leticia’s expression became unfathomable. I sensed her curiosity but at the same time, I sensed a hint of jealousy – it was as if she wanted to know the answer… but she didn’t really want to know.
“Is it different when you have two women submissives?”
“Yes, having two women opens up infinitely more sexual possibilities,” I explained. “It creates situations for erotic combinations that just aren’t possible in other circumstances. To me personally, I find nothing more erotic or arousing than watching two passionate and enthusiastic women entwined together on a bed. There is something impossibly beautiful about it.”
Leticia looked down at the floor for long, thoughtful moments and then lifted her face slowly. “Would you ever consider having a threesome in the future?”
I nodded, because it was the truth. “Those threesome experiences in the past have left with countless erotic images that are seared into my memory,” I said. “And certainly, if the opportunity presented itself in the future, I would not hesitate.”
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Jonah and Leticia discuss the art of talking dirty.
“Tell me, Leticia,” I asked, “Did you and your former boyfriend ever talk dirty to each other?”
Leticia blushed a crimson colour but then she nodded her head. “Sometimes,” she said.
I confess I was surprised. I leaned against the wall, folded my arms and crossed my ankles. “In what form did this dirty talk take?”
Leticia flapped her arms in acute embarrassment. “Jonah! You can’t just expect me to act out conversations I had with a former boyfriend. I don’t think I could possibly do that.”
“Why?” I asked. “Is it because you’re embarrassed, or because perhaps you don’t feel that what you were saying to each other was terribly erotic or terribly dirty?”
Leticia shook her head. “I just couldn’t act it out, and say it in the same way.” She folded her arms and became stubborn.
I nodded. Clearly, Leticia was defensive, and maybe inhibited by her inexperience and the inexperience of her former boyfriend. “Then tell me the nature of your dirty talk,” I attacked the subject from a different angle.
Leticia’s arms stayed folded, and her expression stayed defiant. She shrugged her shoulders. “We told each other what to do,” she said. “And in between that, we used a lot of colorful language.”
I smiled thinly. “Did you ever use your imagination?”
Leticia nodded her head. “Of course,” she said and there was suddenly an angry flush of temper on her cheeks. “I assure you, Jonah, I have a very good imagination.”
I nodded, but the knowing smile stayed fixed on my face. “Leticia, dirty talk isn’t just using language and telling each other what to do. Dirty talk, when used by someone who is experienced, fuels a woman’s imagination with vivid, erotic images she may never have considered before. The true arousal of dirty talk is not in the bad words, it’s in transporting a woman’s imagination to scenarios that are unexpected and intensely erotic. When I talk dirty to a woman, the first thing I say is…”
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Jonah talking to a clueless man about how to arouse a woman.
“To arouse a woman, you need to think like a woman,” I explained. It sounded so simple, and to me it was – but to the man sitting across the table from me, it was as if I had just spoken in a foreign language.
He shrugged. He looked disappointed. He had come to me expecting some magic bullet that would save his failing relationship with a wife who had become cold and distant to him.
“That’s all you got?”
I shrugged. “That’s all you need to know – if you understand it.”
The man still looked unimpressed. “So, all I have to do is think like a woman, right?”
“That
’s right,” I said.
The guy looked blank, and I figured that if I didn’t spell it out for him he was going to be there for the next hour. I sat back in the chair and took a deep breath.
“For men, arousal is entirely visual and physical,” I said. “Men get turned on by pictures and images – that’s why so many pornographic magazines flourished for so many years, and it’s why the internet is choked with porn – because it’s the only thing men need to become aroused.” I set my coffee cup down on the table and glanced around the restaurant. The wait staff were clearing away tables after the lunchtime rush.
“Women need to reach a sensual stage before they can reach a sexual stage. Women are highly sensitive – and by that, I mean arousal for women means stimulating all of their senses. Touch, smell, sound… all of those things compound together to arouse a woman so that a man can elevate her to the sexual stage. If you use touch and if you use the sound of your voice and if you can fuel her imagination and involve all her senses, she will become aroused.”
The man looked like he understood, but he also looked like he didn’t like the answer. He made a face. “That sounds like a lot of hard work.”
“It might seem like hard work to begin with, but nothing is more rewarding than having a beautiful woman in your arms who is aroused and sexually turned on by you. The man who can create those feelings in a woman is a very powerful man indeed, because that kind of power over women can sexually enslave them.”
The man blinked and rubbed his chin. “Maybe… maybe it’s worth the effort after all.”
I nodded. “I assure you it is.”