Jennifer's Surrender (26 page)

As Antonio
stood by the table and started to open the bottle, Master held out his hand for
mine and asked me as I put my hand in his, “Did you enjoy the cellar,
Jennifer?”

I was
embarrassed to admit that I did. I’m not sure if I did because I knew it was
what he wanted or if I genuinely enjoyed it for me. But the fact remained, that
my body did so I replied honestly, “Yes, Master. Thank you.”

 
“I knew you would.” He said softly as he
stroked my hand. “You looked so beautiful walking back to the table, little
bird. So elegant. I could see all of you, you know. Everything.” He smiled and
I nodded, again, basking in the warmth of his praise and appreciation.
“Watching you walk back here, knowing that you’ve given yourself completely to
me, I can’t tell you how hard that’s made me.” I smiled listening to him, not
trying to process what he was saying, just happy that he was happy. My focus
was so totally on him that when I heard the soft sound of the cork come out of
the bottle, I was reminded that Antonio was standing right there.

Antonio poured
the wine for Master to taste. He kept one hand on mine as he used the other to
swirl his glass. He briefly looked away from me to assess the wine, then he
tasted it, swirling it around in his mouth and closing his eyes before opening
them and nodding to Antonio, “You were right, Antonio, this is excellent.”

 
“Like you, my friend, when I find
something exceptional, I always want to share it with those who can appreciate
the finer things.” And I knew that Antonio wasn’t just talking about the wine.
I would have had to have been an idiot not to know he was talking about me. I
couldn’t help but stiffen, which Master felt in my hand. Then Antonio said,
“I’ll leave you two to enjoy.” As he set the bottle down on the table. But
before he left, he turned to me and said, “I look forward to the next time,
bella, when we’re not so rushed. You are a beautiful woman and like this wine,
you are meant to be savored.” He picked up my free hand and kissed the back of
it.

 
“Thank you, Master Antonio.” I said
softly, like it was the most natural reply. I said it without even thinking
about it. I stiffened again as I realized that Master might be jealous as to
how I referred to him, but when I looked at him, his expression was one of
contentment.

 
“What is it, little bird?” he asked. I
wish he couldn’t read me so well.

 
“I was worried that you wouldn’t like me
to call him that, that it might make you jealous.”

He laughed,
“No, Jennifer, I don’t get jealous. Not over that. And that is what he is now,
to you. I am your Master though.”

I nodded,
“Yes, Master.” But now that I was back here with him, I couldn’t help but feel,
what? Guilty?

 
“What else, Jennifer? What’s bothering
you? You were so contented when you first sat down. Now you’re worrying
yourself. What is it?” Damn him.

 
“You brought me here for Antonio?” I
asked, both wanting and not wanting to hear the answer.

 
“I brought you here for a nice dinner on
a Saturday night, Jennifer. Antonio and I go way back, and are good friends.
So, among wanting to share a nice meal with you, yes, I wanted to share you
with Antonio.” He said it so calmly.

 
“But, I’m not just a thing to pass
around.” Part of me was indignant, though I couldn’t deny I enjoyed being with
him.

 
“Jennifer, take a sip of this Barolo.” He
commanded. So I did. I knew enough about wine to know that this was good,
really good.

 
“It’s an exceptional wine. Antonio could
just keep it to himself, but he knows me and knows my tastes, as I know his. He
wanted to share it with me because he knew I would enjoy it.”

 
“You’re comparing me to a bottle of
wine?!”

 
“You’re forgetting your manners.” He said
coolly.

 
“I’m sorry, Master. But, I just, I don’t
understand how you could be so cavalier about passing me around to your
friends. And it makes me feel cheap, like a whore that you’re pimping out.”
There, I said it.

 
“You didn’t have to fuck him. You know
that, Jennifer.” I nodded. I did know that. I never once thought Antonio would
take me against my will.

 
“But, you’re not jealous? It doesn’t
bother you that I just had sex with someone else?” There was so much that I
didn’t understand.

He laughed,
“No, Jennifer, I’m not jealous. I am so proud of you, little bird. You’re
giving in to complete submission to me. You went with Antonio because I told
you to. Simple as that. If I am to be your Master, truly, your Master, then you
must give all of yourself to me. And by going with Antonio, you proved that you
will. You’re so beautiful and you have such a beautiful mouth and pussy and
ass, I am the opposite of jealous. I want everyone to see what I have. I am so
happy that you’re mine that I want to share you.” I heard the words and I knew
that Antonio wouldn’t be the last man Master shared me with. Could seeking this
man’s praise be so important to me that I was willing to let myself be used
like this?

 
“I let a stranger fuck me without a
condom. And I did it because it’s what I thought you wanted. And I’ll admit, I
enjoyed it. But, I put so much trust in you, it’s not healthy. It’s not right.”

 
“Jennifer, you’re on the pill, and I
would never share you with anyone I didn’t know had a clean bill of health. My
friends and I are very selective and careful. And we get tested regularly. I
may push you, but I don’t wish ill for you.” Always so rational, logical, even
when the subject was anything but.

And then the
conversation with Bill from earlier this week came back to me.

 
“You went to college with Bill, too. He’s
a close friend of yours.” I said, looking down at my hands.

 
“Yes, Jennifer.” His voice was so even.

 
“He’s part of the lifestyle?” before he
could answer, I continued, “You’re planning on sharing me with him.” I didn’t
ask because I knew it wasn’t a question. For either of us. I took a sip of my
wine, wishing it would fortify me, brace me for his response. Of course, it
couldn’t. Nothing could.

 
“Yes, Jennifer. Soon.”

 
“But he’s my boss.” I pleaded, but I knew
pleading wouldn’t change his mind or his plans.

 
“And I am your Master.” He said with such
authority that it was clear: Master trumps boss. I drank more wine.

 
“And he knows about your plans?”
 

 
“He knows me, Jennifer. We’ve known each
other for most of our adult lives. I haven’t discussed any specifics, but he
cares for you, you know. He’s pleased that the lifestyle is allowing you to
explore more facets of who you are and expose you to new things. Over the
years, he has seen you progress at work, and now he’s pleased that you’re
progressing in your personal life as well.” As he said this, I thought, if we
weren’t talking about sex and domination and punishment and humiliation, then
this would be a normal conversation. But the progress that Master was referring
to was about me becoming a better submissive. It was about me losing more and
more of myself to this fucked up world that now consumed me. It wasn’t just my
personal life, now it was bleeding into my job.

 
“I’ve told you I’m going to push you,
Jennifer. I take my responsibility as your Master very seriously. And seeing
you grow and give in to your true nature, I can’t tell you how proud it makes
me.”

Ironic. The
more I lost my pride and any true sense of self, the more proud he became.

Life may
imitate art, but being a real life submissive was very different than what I
had read about in the erotica books. I know it was fiction, but I guess I just
never really knew what was real and what was make-believe. In the books, almost
all of them, there’s a list of hard and soft limits. With Master, there was no
list. There seemed to be nothing that wasn’t on the table. He never asked me if
I was ok with him sharing me with other men. And what a nice euphemism,
‘sharing’. I knew my options: follow his orders or go. Ironically, there were
no shades of grey with Master. It was all black and white.

Perhaps that’s
why it never even occurred to me to use my safe-word. I assumed that if I ever
did, our relationship would be over. I think it was there as a formality, but I
never once thought about using it.

What was the
same as it was in the books was the tremendous care he took of me, especially
after something like the evening with Antonio. Whenever he pushed me, whether
physically or mentally, the ‘after-care’ was more loving, more tender than
anything I had ever experienced before. I don’t know if that’s part of what
kept me there with Master. It’s odd to feel so completely loved and taken care
of by the same person who necessitated that type of care.

I wonder how
weak or needy I must be that seeking this I would allow the types of things
he’s done to me out of some desperate need for care and love.
 

When we got
back to his place, I showered, washing Antonio off of me, and crawled into bed.
It had been a week since I had been with Master and I wanted him so badly. But
I didn’t want to play games or be whipped. I just wanted to be held and
caressed and comforted. Somehow he knew that. He took his time, slowly kissing
me, gently caressing me, and truly made love to me that night. It was what I
needed, and he held me all night. I know that because I couldn’t sleep at all.
I couldn’t stop my mind from trying to make sense of what I just did. I tried
to reason that the genie was already out of the bottle. I couldn’t take back
that I did what I did at the restaurant. Hell, I licked a seat in front of
strangers because I was told to. This wasn’t who I was, was it?

In the
morning, I showered and went downstairs to make him breakfast. I was a mess,
slowly going through the motions. I couldn’t think about what I wanted, not
while I was there, in his house, naked, with him. I knew if I stayed, he’d
reason with me and I’d cave.

I couldn’t
figure out who this man was. At one moment, he could be so tender and loving
and the next cruel and merciless. I knew I was no match for him though. I
started thinking that my first impression back when I met him was right. I was
a tiny little mouse being dropped into the cage of a python.

When he came
down, we wished each other good morning, and he took his seat at the table. I
poured him coffee, and then knelt beside him. “Jennifer, you can come sit here
with me.”

 
“Thank you, Sir, but I’m not hungry. I’d
like you to please take me home after you’ve finished your breakfast. I can’t
call a cab because I don’t have any money with me. I don’t have any money with
me because I followed your orders and didn’t bring anything other than what you
gave me.” I sounded like a robot, but I wanted to be clear.

And oddly, I
was more comfortable kneeling next to him than sitting at the table. It wasn’t
that I felt lesser than him, it was that somehow, kneeling there was clear to
me. There wasn’t any question about it. It felt comfortable. I didn’t have to
think or process anything, and at that moment, my mind was so full trying to
figure everything else out, I stayed where it somehow made sense.

 
“I see.” I really hated those two words
now. “All right. I’ll take you home once I’ve finished eating.”

 
“Thank you, Sir.” I said and knelt there
while he ate. Slowly. Every now and then he’d stroke my head, and it was all I
could do not to lean into his hand and cry. But I knew if I did, I’d give in. I
could feel the tears well up, but I told myself that if I had learned how to
hold off having an orgasm, I could surely keep from crying.

When he
finished, he looked down at me and asked, “Is this what you really want?”

I knew my eyes
were filled with tears when I looked up to him to answer. “I don’t know, but I
can’t think if I’m here, with you. You’ll want to discuss and you’ll win. I
need to figure this out for myself. If I stay, you’ll figure it out for me. And
right now, I’m not so sure that’s what’s in my best interest. As much as I want
you, I’m not sure I can do this. And I won’t know that by talking about it with
you.”

I could see
his mind working as he processed whether or not to push. After a moment, he
relented. “Ok, Jennifer. Let’s go then.” He said calmly. There wasn’t any anger
in his voice. Perhaps sadness. When we got to the front door, I put on the
trench coat only. I left all the other items there. I didn’t want any more
reminders of the previous evening. I had brought the kitchen towel with me and
laid it on the seat before getting in, which actually made both of us smile,
for a moment. And then he drove me home, in silence, though the entire drive he
held my hand, stroking it back and forth. This simple act of tenderness almost
made me abandon my plans. But I knew I had to stick to my guns. If I didn’t
now, I’m not sure I ever would.

When we got
there, he asked, “How are you going to get into your place?”

I was
surprised he asked, that he had an awareness of all things related to me. “I’ll
hope my neighbor is home. She has an extra key.”

 
“And if she isn’t?”

I shrugged and
said, “I guess I’ll wait till she is.”

 
“I made a copy of your key, little bird.
I hope you don’t think it presumptuous. But I knew what I had asked of you, and
I knew you wouldn’t have a key to get back in.”