Jennifer's Surrender (22 page)

I’m not sure
why it became so clear at that moment, but it did. “I feel like you give me
what I need. What my body and ego and emotions crave. Pleasing you is so
important to both you and me, I feel like I’m finally with someone who
understands how badly I need that. The praise and the pleasure and the
punishment all are very clear cut. Even when they’re not, it doesn’t matter,
because it’s what you want, and that’s enough because in the end, I feel like
whatever the outcome, it benefits me. Even when it’s pain or humiliation,
there’s something that I feel I learn from or gain from the experience. Even
when it’s just your comfort after something bad, I want that so badly, the rest
just falls away.”

He smiled and
said, “If it’s that clear to you now, why wasn’t it earlier today?”

 
“I don’t know. It’s not an easy concept
for most people. And to try to explain it I just sound like I’m excusing it.
It’s clearer, but I wouldn’t say crystal clear.” He laughed a little. “I think it’s
clearer, but it doesn’t mean I think it’s right.” Then I laughed, “I’m not sure
I approve of myself.”

 
“Would you approve of yourself staying in
an unsatisfying relationship that was more acceptable by normal standards?”

 
“It would be easier to explain to others,
that’s for sure.” I paused. “I think most people just go through the motions,
never questioning what they’re doing in their lives because most of it is
acceptable by normal standards. Even if it is unsatisfying. Don’t take this the
wrong way, but I’ve questioned practically every single thing we’ve done, every
moment with you.” then I thought more and added, “I don’t think I ever knew
what I wanted or needed before.”

 
“And now you do?”

 
“Maybe not completely, but more than
before.” Then I thought, now’s my time to get it all out. “But, I don’t like
feeling like I have no say in things. I’ll admit I like surrendering to you
sexually, but, for example, I don’t like feeling like I can’t call you if I
want, that I always have to wait for you to call.”

 
“I’ve never said you couldn’t call me. It
would be nice to hear from you if you felt like it.” Oh, this man was so good
at manipulating me, and I just played right into it. I rolled my eyes.

I was tired of
talking. All the emotion of the day was exhausting, and I knew that all I
wanted was for him to take control. I got up off the couch and knelt facing
him, in position, knees spread, hands clasped behind my back, ready for him to
direct the rest of the evening, and weekend. I looked up and said, “I surrender,
Sir.” And the look on his face told me that he got it. He understood me
completely.

 
“Come.” He said as he stood and held his
hand out. I took it, genuinely grateful to be led. We walked down to the
playroom and I felt immense relief when we walked in. Relief that I wouldn’t
have to think. Relief that he would know what I needed. Relief that he would
take care of me.

 
“We’re just going to have our ‘appetizer’
down here, little bird. We both need to eat, and if we get too carried away playing
now, you’ll float off too quickly. But you need a good spanking and a quick
fucking before either of us will be able to relax and enjoy a nice dinner, so,
up you go.” He said and gestured to the spanking bench. Just the mention of
spanking got me wet.

I climbed up and
rested my shins on the pads that were on either side of it, doing the same with
my arms, as he strapped me in.

 
“I’m going to spank you hard for 10
strokes only, but I’m going to use the paddle. This will hurt, Jennifer.”

 
“Yes, Sir.”

And he wasn’t
kidding. He hadn’t paddled me before, and, like with everything else, it was
different. Different than a hand, a crop, a flogger, a cane. It covered the
most surface, and, since it had holes in it, he was able to gather quite a bit
of force with each stroke. I understood why he was doing it hard, and only a
few strokes. He didn’t want me slipping off into subspace. The first one landed
hard and it stung and hurt. A lot. He alternated between cheeks and almost as
soon as he had started, it was over. I actually wanted more as the stinging
sensation was starting to subside. Then I heard him unzip and felt his cock
shove into me, making me moan.

 
“I know you need more, little bird. And
you’ll get it.” He stroked in and out at a leisurely pace, “this is just to
tide you over till after dinner.”

Breathily, I
said, “Thank you, Sir.”

And he fucked
me hard and quick, bring on my orgasm in a couple of minutes. As I felt it
rising, he felt it too. He knew when I was close, but I waited until he told
me. “Ok, Jennifer, you can come now.” And once he said that I released all the
stress and anxiety of the day.

We made our
way back upstairs to the kitchen where he had Chilean sea bass marinating. He
poured us both a glass of wine and instructed me to make the salad while he sautéed
the mushrooms, and pan seared the fish, “not a good idea for you to get too
close to the stove, dear. This will splatter.”

I smiled and
shook my head. He had just spanked me, and I knew my ass was pink with little
round welts from the air holes in the paddle, but he didn’t want oil
splattering on my naked body because it might hurt.

When we sat
down to dinner, I raised my glass and said, “Thank you for understanding, Sir.
I’m not sure I always do, but talking earlier helped.”

 
“You’re welcome, little bird. If you need
to talk, then talk to me. Running away from it is not going to give you the
answers you’re looking for.”

 
“I know. But sometimes running is
easier.” Then I added, “You’ve lived this lifestyle for most of your adult
life.” He nodded. “I’m 36 years old and so much of what I’ve known when it
comes to sex and relationships and my feelings has been turned upside down in
less than a month.”

 
“I know little bird. All the more reason
to trust me. I know what’s best for you. Even when you may not. Remember that.”

There are so
many moments that, in looking back, I think were the pivotal moments where I
gave away my free will. But as I continue this retrospective, I realize, there
wasn’t any one moment. It was a series of times, of events, where I let him
take pieces of me, bit by bit. I gave myself to him wholly, but he took slowly,
a little here, a little there. I didn’t lose myself all at once. I think if it
had been sudden, then the shock alone could have changed the outcome. But it
wasn’t sudden, like a heart attack. It was like a slow growing cancer that
little by little started to eat up every healthy cell, invading and taking over
my body until it claimed all of me.

After dinner,
we went back down to the playroom and he delivered on his promise. “We haven’t
put you on the Saint Andrew’s cross yet, have we dear?” he asked rhetorically.
I shook my head feeling the excitement in me grow at trying something new.

 
“Mmmmm.” He said as he rubbed my bottom,
looking at the cross, then back at me, then back at it. “You’re going to like
this, little bird.” He said as he led me over to it, helping me up, fastening
first my ankles, then my wrists.

He put on some
soft choral music, it sounded religious, and I thought it appropriate given
that I was on a cross. The lighting was soft, and between it, the music and the
couple glasses of wine with dinner, I was very relaxed. Sir picked up the
flogger, and like the last time he had used it, he started out slowly, making long
fluid strokes. My eyes started to drift close and he hit me harder, which made
me open them and he reminded me, “Eyes on me, Jennifer.” He said softly but
firmly.

 
“Yes, Master.” I whispered and the corner
of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. He was fascinating to watch. There was
nothing random about where each stroke landed. It was all planned out,
following a rhythm that he had in his head.

There wasn’t a
spot on my front side that the flogger missed. I almost wished I had been
strung up like before where there was nothing behind me so he could cover all
of me. But my ass was still sore from the earlier paddling, and this was still
the beginning. I knew he was just warming up.

There were so
many things I was learning about my body. The insides of my legs and arms were
much more sensitive than the outsides, and the sides of my torso, were also
more tender than I would have thought. The tops of ones feet, I learned, are
very, very sensitive, and there’s no pleasure there. But the light bite of the
flogger, even when he started swinging harder, is a wonderful sensation.
Because it has some give, as opposed to everything else in his arsenal, it
strokes the body even as it’s hitting it.

He
criss-crossed my body many times, following his route. Once the route was over,
he’d increase the intensity. I’m not sure what round we were on when he pulled
out a mini flogger from his pocket. With his left hand, he now focused the big
one on my breasts, and simultaneously hit my pussy with the mini-one, which he
wielded in his right hand. The sensation was intense, overwhelming. All of a
sudden, every blow was concentrated on my breasts and my pussy. The rest of my
skin was tingling with stinging pain that was subsiding and all the heat was
now starting to pool in my core. “Oooh, oooh, Siiiirrrr, pleeeasssee.” Oh, I
wasn’t going to be able to hold on, “Pleeeaasse Siiiir.”

 
“That’s right, little bird, that’s
right.” He said as he continued to hit my sensitive spots over and over. The
intensity and the pace started to increase too.

 
“Pleeeeasssse Siiiir, please, please make
me come. Please let me come.” I was moaning, just waiting, holding on for his
ok.

 
“Who controls your orgasms, Jennifer?” he
asked in his soft-stern voice.

 
“You do, Sir.”

 
“That’s right, little bird. I can give
you what your body needs. You know that. Your body knows that.” And the strokes
kept coming and coming.

 
“Yessssiiirrr.”

 
“Who gives your body what you need,
Jennifer?” oh God, he was drawing this out.

 
“You do, Master, only you.” I was
gritting my teeth, trying to hold on.

 
“That’s right, only me.” Then he really
went to town and finally said, “Ok, Jennifer, you may come now.”

 
“Thaannnk
oooooohhhhhuuuuuunnnnnnAAAAAAHHHHH” I moaned and screamed and bucked as my
orgasm overtook me, shaking me everywhere. When it finally subsided, my
aftershocks went on a bit longer and I continued to moan as he unbuckled me and
laid me down on the bed, and then slowly undressed. When he was naked he leaned
over me and made such tender, sweet love to me that I felt tears falling as I
came again.

The rest of
the weekend followed a similar path. The more things he introduced me to in the
playroom, the more my body responded. It was a weekend of intense pleasure and
pain, but because the pain was also pleasurable, it was all good. We didn’t do
much other than eat, drink, lounge, play, fuck and bathe. We didn’t leave his
place and I was on cloud nine by Sunday afternoon. As much as I didn’t want to go
home, I wasn’t sure my body could take much more, though if he had given it, of
course I would have taken it.

In our final
bath of the weekend, I asked, “How did you learn about all of this?”

 
“All of what?” he asked coyly.

 
“About whips and floggers and canes, oh
my.” I said and he chuckled.

 
“You make me laugh, little bird. Among
other things.” We were facing each other in the tub and he lifted my foot and
kissed the underside of it.

 
“Don’t try to dodge the question! How did
you learn about, as you say, other things? It’s not instinctual to know that
flogging someone might be pleasurable. I certainly didn’t know until I met you,
Sir.”

 
“True. It’s not for everyone.” We both
smiled and then he relented, “When I was a senior in college, one night some of
us ended up at a local BDSM club. I was fascinated by what I saw. I already
knew I was very, uh, controlling, in my relationships, but I had no idea that
there was a whole lifestyle.”

 
“I hate that word.” I said and he raised
his eyebrows. “It just seems so manufactured and so, limiting.”

 
“Limiting? I’ve never heard that before.
If anything, most people think it pushes their limits.” Sir enjoyed
discussions, but he really became engaged when talking about this.

 
“Yes, what’s done in ‘the lifestyle’
definitely pushes one’s limits. I’m talking about the term itself. When I
started reading about ‘the lifestyle’ even though some of the practices
interested me, I never thought I’d be a part of it. I mean, I don’t see myself
dressed in leather hanging out in BDSM clubs. It’s so, I don’t know, it’s just
not me.”

 
“But what we do is.” He stated.

 
“Yes, I’ve come to learn that. But the
idea of hanging out in clubs with, what I imagine are a lot of unattractive
pasty, pierced, heavy white people in leather… kind of grosses me out. And
makes me laugh.” I wondered if he was going to be offended but he smiled and
nodded. “Anyway, I thought that to be part of the lifestyle, that I would have
to fit into that. I guess that’s what I mean about it sounding limiting.”

 
“I know what you mean. But clubs are a
good place to learn.”

 
“So that’s where you, um, learned?”