Dominique (20 page)

     
Every chance I had!

     
Everything around me faded away.
 
All that existed was the look of pleasure on my Master’s face.
 
He
took
my throat, and I felt more his than I ever had.
 
A strange silence settled over me as he thrust in and out of my throat, faster and faster.
 
I wasn’t afraid.
 
I was happy,
truly
happy.
 
Not overwhelmed.
 
At peace.
 
And he knew it.
 
Groaning his love for me, he emptied himself in my adoring mouth and I swallowed with glee.
 
I’d done it!
 
He drew me to my feet and into his arms.
 
Burying my face in his neck, I felt like I was high on something.
 
I hadn’t even noticed Simone leaving the room!

     
The rest of the morning flew by.
 
Gigi
and Simone and I made pizzas, and we all sat down and ate and talked and laughed like nothing was out of the ordinary.
 
They were such lovely people.
 
Even Dean wasn’t as crazy as everyone made him out to be.
 
Everyone wanted to know everything about me.
 
I was feeling wonderful.

     
After lunch we packed the truck and headed home.
 
It was about 2:30 p.m.

Chapter 6

After the weekend, Andrew gave me some space to get my head together, which was good.
 
To be honest, I was ‘on autopilot’ all week, and hardly able to concentrate.
 
I was glad work hadn’t noticed.
 
The experience at Dean’s tilted my world on its axis, and I started to wonder about all kinds of things.

     
Going up there was a good idea, I decided, even if it was only to open my eyes to the possibilities.
 
I learned some good lessons there.
 
Probably the best one was that if my head was in the right place, I could deep throat Andrew, which was pretty exciting.
 
Discovering a depth of subspace that I didn’t know existed was amazing too.
 
My mind and body were capable of handling torments and pain much better than I thought.
 
Though I was achy and marked for a few days afterwards, they soon went away.

     
Before going up there, I had a pretty good idea of what went on at Dean’s, but I honestly thought I was going to get the
option
of getting involved.
 
Like I could’ve just watched if I wanted.
 
But it wasn’t like that at all.
 
I was in it from the start and I fucking
loved
it.
 
That
threw a spanner in the works.
 
How dare I love it?
 
What kind of a slut was I?
 
God.
 
Even the horrible feelings of being ignored faded from my selective memory.
 
It was an incredible weekend, and thoughts and flashes from it haunted me for weeks.

     
And yet, my jealousy concerned me.
 
I could drown in sensuality, but if Andrew received pleasure from someone else, I felt betrayed!
 
Then I felt guilty about thinking such ridiculous thoughts.
 
What was wrong with me?
 
It was the only part of the weekend that left me with questions.

     
One time at work I giggled when I thought of writing, ‘My Master’s pleasure is my joy!’ a hundred times on the whiteboard in the executive boardroom.
 
I wished I were always so nonchalant and laid back about it.
 
But I wasn’t, and I hoped my jealousy wouldn’t be my undoing.

Dominique and I had discussed many subjects over the previous year.
 
I felt I knew what she was capable of, and I knew her limits.
 
In the days following the weekend, we talked briefly about the night with Paul just prior to it, and about general conclusions from the weekend itself.
 
She had nodded and agreed with things I pointed out to her, and added comments of her own.
 
We even went to our first munch together during the week, and I was so proud of her.
 
She’d been wonderful, demonstrating a depth and understanding of herself that I was proud to witness.
 
She seemed to speak her mind in thoughtful ways and I enjoyed the maturity she was showing.
 
I was pleased with her progress.

     
As the week wore on, it became clear new questions had been raised in her mind.
 
She seemed to be wrestling with something she thought was important, but she didn’t come to me about it.
 
One time I was about to enter our bedroom and I hesitated in the doorway.
 
She thought she was alone, and her brows were furrowed in deep concentration.
 
She was sniffling, holding a tissue to her nose, tears trickling slowly down her cheeks.
 
As I turned and allowed her some privacy, it became clear something serious was going on.

     
A few choice words still had their desired affect.
 
Now that I think about it, in the days after the weekend at Dean’s, I can’t remember how often I said words like, ‘
Dominique, come here,’
but it was a few.
 
I was increasingly worried about her, but I didn’t sit her down and question her.
 
I let her think it through, expecting her to come to me if she had an impasse.

     
After all, I reasoned,
scening
was still a relatively new concept to her.
 
What we did together, to her, was simply
how she submitted to me
.
 
Allowing herself to be used, to whatever degree I chose,
during play
, was ‘her life’.
 
But
scening
in full view of others, having others use her at my whim, or seeing me use another woman, was a pretty big step.
 
A lot had happened, and she still hadn’t come to me.

     
By Saturday evening I decided to get to the bottom of it.
 
“
Dominique?
 
Come here, pet.”

     
“Yes, Sir?” I replied, entering the lounge room from the kitchen, wiping my hands on my apron.
 
I’d been peeling potatoes for Andrew’s
favourite
potato salad.
 
It was a bit weird how I threw myself into meal making.

     
“Come and kneel in front of me, pet.”

     
“Oh, um,” I hesitated, thinking about the water about to boil.
 
“Yes, Sir.”
 
Andrew had arranged a cushion for me and I kneeled down on it, my eyes flicking at the kitchen door.

     
“I want you to tell me what is on your mind.”

     
“Just that I have some water on the boil.
 
I probably should turn it off if this is going to take some time.”
 
I noticed Andrew’s eyes narrowing, but it was strange.
 
It wasn’t an angry look, more like he was trying to see inside my head.
 
I thought,
Uh oh
.

     
“Go on,” he said with a sideways nod.

     
“Yes, Sir,” I said, springing to my feet.
 
Trotting on tiptoes to the kitchen, I turned off the stove and took off my apron before hurrying back.
 
As I settled, I looked up into Andrew’s eyes and held my breath as he spoke.

     
“Good girl,” he said, smiling softly down on me.
 
“Okay,
now
what’s on your mind?”

     
“Um,” I replied stupidly, trying to buy some time.
 
“What do you mean, Sir?”

     
“Don’t answer a question with a question.
 
Tell me.”

     
I sighed and looked down at my hands.
 
I wasn’t being good and I knew it.
 
“I’m sorry.
 
I haven’t been myself lately.”

     
“I’ve noticed.
 
It’s okay.
 
It’s time to talk to me about it.”

     
I wanted to ... I really did ... “I ... I ...”

     
“Dominique.
 
See that door?” He pointed toward the front door and my eyes widened.
 
“You may go through it at any time.
 
Now talk, or walk.”

     
Fuck!
 
“I just ... I mean ...
I don’t know what I mean to you!”

     
The weirdest silence settled over us as his shoulders slumped.
 
He looked down at the floor for the longest time before raising his eyes to me.
 
Tears threatened to spill onto my cheeks, I was so afraid.
 
I don’t know why, but I thought he was going to be angry.
 
God, I was so wrong.

     
The look in his eyes floored me as he whispered, “You mean everything to me, pet.”

     
“Oh, Master!” I cried.

     
“You are mine, and I am yours.”

     
“I’m so sorry!”

     
“We are one entity.
 
Two people, but we are one.
 
Together.
 
You and me.”

     
“Forgive me!”

     
“We are on the same side.
 
It’s you and me against the world.”

     
“I doubted you!”

     
“You are forgiven.”

     
“I’m a terrible sub!”

     
“No, you are not.
 
There is more to this life than you know.
 
Your lessons are not ended.”

     
“I’m so sorry, Sir!”
 
I burst into tears at his feet.
 
I don’t know.
 
I was wound up so tightly.
 
With my fingernails tearing holes in the cuff of his dress pants, and my mascara running onto them, I heaved and cried my eyes out.
 
My guilt had convinced me I wasn’t good enough for him.

     
“Hush now,” he said softly.
 
“It’s okay.”

     
I could feel his fingers at the back of my head, sliding into my hair.
 
Gently they tightened, but not to the point of pain.
 
It was just short of that.
 
It was exactly tight enough to halt my tears.
 
As he raised my head with gentle pressure, I let go of his pants and moved up to all fours, following his desire for me.
 
Backwards he bent my neck, arching my back and bringing my eyes to his.
 
I must have looked a sight.

     
“Everything about you is wonderful.
 
Know I love you.”

     
My mouth opened but nothing came out.
 
I’m sure my heart stopped.
 
As I gazed into his eyes, trying to find a hint of doubt and finding none, I finally found my voice.
 
“Thank you, Master,” I whispered.
 
His fingers slid from my hair, letting my head drop and giving me time to catch my breath.
 
I sat back on my heels and spread my knees, placing my hands palms up on my thighs and arching my back.
 
God.
 
Joy filled the void in my heart and I longed for his touch.

     
Always reassure me like this.
 
Always make me yours like this!