Submitting to Her (27 page)

"Mmmm… I love your cock, sweetie," she said,
then shot me a look that was pure fire. "I wonder if that other guy
measures up."

I felt myself nearing completion, so I told
her to stop. It felt strange giving her commands, but she could see
in my face I was worried this would end too soon.

"You want another wish now?"

I nodded.

"You want me to untie you?"

"Not yet," I said, surprising myself even. My
limbs were aching more than a little - but I was so excited to have
wishes, I didn't want to waste them on something conventional like
eliminating my bonds.

"What then?"

"I want to watch you touch yourself," I
said.

"What?"

"I want to see how you do it - close up. I
want you to make yourself come and show me."

"Oh." She blushed heavily. For someone who
had ground herself against my face in a most intimate way on
countless occasions, it was strange how the request to see her
masturbate should be so awkward. It was such a personal activity,
though, I supposed.

"You have to do it," I said. "You said."

"Really?"

"I want to see."

She glared at me, hinting that I was being a
little demanding for a man tied up like a Christmas parcel.

Then she gave a slight nod, and as though
protesting, began rolling around on me, turning onto her back,
stretching out her limbs, then flipping over onto her stomach, her
copious silky brown hair flowing all over her and me like
peat-stained river water. Leather creaking, she trailed herself all
over my body, dragged her soft skin and stiff corset and boots over
my sensitive flesh, rolling around as though someone had just given
her body for the first time, and she was trying it out, checking
all her muscles.

I watched in awe, my taking in her
extravagant beauty like an audience at the ballet.

She gave a final sigh, but then rolled off
me, and hopped off the bed. "Okay," she said. "I'll show you."

Another visit to the bathroom, and when she
returned her boots were gone - and she was carrying something long
and lilac blue. A vibrator.

"You really want to see?" she asked me, but
didn't need to wait to hear my answer.

She climbed onto me once again, sliding up
towards my head until her exquisite pussy was mere inches away from
my chin. Her lips were glistening from her arousal, bright and
puffy from the blood rushing through, and her scent was deliciously
strong.

She leaned forward to stroke my cheek for a
moment, as though still debating whether she should show this to
me. And then she began, initially with only her hands, slowly
caressing herself, fingers flowing over and around her tender
folds, showing a grace and confidence no man could ever achieve in
touching a woman. Her fingers of one hand sank inside her, while
her other hand drew ever-decreasing circles around her little
button, pressing, nudging against it, drawing out the kind of moans
that made her sound almost surprised, and perhaps she was a touch
surprised by the force of the sensations as she played with herself
for my viewing pleasure.

With every breath laced with her spice, I was
tingling all over to watch her, but I could not move to force my
mouth onto her succulent pussy.

She brought her toy up between her legs,
starting it up so that it offered a low-pitch buzzing sound. It
seemed like such an alien device, but so hot to watch her press it
gently against the hood over her clit, running it slowly down her
pussy lips, listening to her little moans and gasps, her heavy
breathing as she lightly stirred her hips in response to the rhythm
of her stimulation.

Most of her focus for the toy was around her
clit, though she also slipped fingers inside her slippery pinkness,
spreading her moisture and driving my hunger.

Despite the way she'd dominated me thus far
in our relationship, I think it actually took her a little while to
get comfortable with this, showing me this personal act of hers up
so close. Yet even when she seemed to visibly relax into it, and
though she was certainly making herself feel good, it seemed to me
that lying on me like that, playing with herself even in so
apparently expert a manner, she appeared to plateau, rather than
rise towards the kind of climax a guy might expect from
masturbation.

Maybe I was simply prejudiced about what
masturbation was and what it was supposed to achieve.

"What's your final wish?"

"Come for me," I said, simply.

"That's your wish?" she was genuinely
confused. "You don't want me to untie me, or fuck you?"

"I want you to come."

She eased forwards, and my heart started
performing little cartwheels as I realized what she was doing. My
tongue slipped out even before her hot flesh touched down on my
mouth. As I lapped at her nectar, she continued to press her
vibrator against her clit, and with all that stimulation it wasn't
long before she was shivering and shaking and gasping over me.

Afterwards, she untied me anyway, but as I
got up from the bed I was almost completely unable to move. The
pain shot through me, telling me clearly it had been a bad idea to
remain bound to the bed so long.

I laughed about it, and dismissed any concern
from Zoey. I just needed a little time to warm things back up, to
ease my muscles back into regular use, to coax my sinews back into
a normal position.

She left me to it, but by the time I felt
ready and back to a usual state, I looked up from where I'd been
stretching on the floor to find her dressed in that same cocktail
dress of hers.

"What - ?"

"I can't miss the whole of the dinner," she
said simply. "Have to show my face, don't I?"

"I suppose - "

I was confused again.

"Maybe if you're a good boy and you stay in
the room, I'll grant you three more wishes," she said.

"Yes Ma'am," I said, but my thoughts were
already turning to the dangers that the older man waiting
downstairs might pose.

She read my expression easily enough. Just
before slipping out of the room, she said: "Jones, you have to
accept I do as I wish - if I want to flirt with a smoldering older
gentleman, that's what I'll do. But I will always come back to you
- you know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I said.

Once the door had clicked shut, leaving me
alone within my luxury cell, I thought how difficult it was to get
exactly what you wanted out of life - there always had to be some
downside or other. The bliss of having Zoey in total control was
balanced by the risk that she would want something I didn't, that
she would take decisions I would not want her to take.

Yet as I waited, I was beset by that
confusing blend of feelings as I thought about my sexy brown-eyed
girl flirting and teasing the guys downstairs.

When she eventually returned to me that
night, she was horny as hell, and I was on a hair trigger. At last
allowing me to penetrate her with my near-bursting erection, the
climax I shared with her was down right explosive.

When the annual technology exhibition
descended on Atlantic City, it was too big an opportunity for
promoting our IT titles not to send along our vice president,
though I was extremely nervous at the proximity of the place to
Philadelphia and the home of a certain former flame of Zoey
Schoenberg.

It would have seemed strange for our company
and our key tech industry clients not to have our VP there, so
there was no question about her going to the event. But knowing the
sway that Brandon still had over my beloved, I knew I had to be
there with her as well.

Although she loved me, and I knew full well
that she loved me, I couldn't deny that she still had an attachment
to that buff blond. Though she hadn't actually transgressed since
that night with Brandon, unless you counted Ms Jenkinson, she'd
given me the idea that while she was committed emotionally to me,
she saw sex with anyone else as purely a physical thing. I guess
her boundaries were a little different to mine, but if I wanted to
be with her, I had to compromise, and in our relationship the whole
point was that she was in control.

I did see the sexy side to the idea of Zoey
being such a sexual creature, making all other men tremble in her
wake. Yet with Brandon, who apparently couldn't make her come when
they were alone, I just caught the sense that there was a little
more than a purely physical connection.

Going into Atlantic City, I felt the need to
be there in some form, to remind her of the life she had with
me.

I went with her, and lo and behold, there he
was, approaching us at our exhibition stand with the invitation of
a particular deal he thought Zoey would be interested in - but only
if she dealt with him alone.

"Why the hell does he need you on his own?" I
demanded to know. "Sounds pretty suspicious to me."

"It's just a contract he wants me to sign,"
she said. "What, are you refusing me permission to see him?"

She was pretty annoyed at my whole jealous
lover act. I admit I played it wrong, I should have just dropped
it. I antagonized the situation by making it so clear I didn't want
her to see him. Though it didn't seem quite right to me that I
should have no veto powers in this kind of situation, for now I
knew I had to just deal with it.

And in this economy, she couldn't afford to
turn down a contract for a worthwhile cause - I knew that.

That evening, we met Brandon in the hotel
bar, and this time he seemed different to me - somehow more grown
up. He was in business mode.

Our conversation seemed much more
business-like too, as Brandon went through what it was he believed
he could get us together with his client, and how we ought to
proceed to maximize our chances of a deal the next day.
Essentially, Brandon's marketing agency had part of a portfolio of
contracts for a major blue chip company's campaign, and he believed
he could tap a sizable part of our range of magazines in order to
target their campaign to the particular business sectors we
served.

Zoey was naturally enthused, and as we talked
business, it was clearly in all of our interest that this thing
work out, though ultimately Brandon could have taken the deal to
other magazine publishers, of course.

The difference in Brandon was quite
astounding as we dealt on a professional level, but I could only
imagine he was trying particularly hard to impress Zoey.

She was responding to his flirting, that was
for sure, and though she'd been at pains to stress on the way up
from Baltimore that she needed to make him feel loyalty to her in
order to get him firmly on their side for the next day, I was more
than a little afraid under the surface.

I had to just let it go.

I got the strong impression she was going to
have sex with him again, to seal the deal. There was little I could
do about it. Zoey didn't give the impression she needed that to
happen in order to get the contract, but she hinted that it was
something she wanted in celebration of the success. I could only
sigh and ensure from my body language that I wasn't entirely happy
about the situation.

As the evening wound down, Brandon headed for
the men's room, and before he went, I caught a little flash of his
eyes that was intended only for Zoey's view.

Was he telling her to get rid of me? How dare
he!

He scampered off, and with a definite edge to
my voice, I said to Zoey: "You want me to get out of here,
huh?"

She sighed, and said: "Look, if we get
tonight out of the way, pull in the deal tomorrow, then we're out
of here, right? We don't have to see him again."

"Until he decides to visit Maryland on a
weekend, or finds another nice juicy deal for the company?"

Zoey's lips seemed to harden. She said
coldly: "Jones, I can see you have some lessons to be learned. You
don't talk to me like that."

"No Ma'am," I said demurely.

She said: "I've said before that I love you.
That is not for questioning any longer, you understand? That is a
firm fact."

"Yes, Ma'am," I said. My insides seemed to
thaw a little at that.

"Now go upstairs and prepare my room so that
everything is tidy for when I return with Brandon. And when we
return, I want to see that door between our rooms open - but you
may not enter the room under any circumstances. Understood?"

That hit me in the chest like a solid boot,
knocking the wind out of me. Yet all I could say was: "Yes,
Ma'am."

"You need to know the difference between sex
and love, Jones."

"Yes, Ma'am," I said, but I felt her cruelty
like a dagger through the heart.

I did as she told me, scurrying away before
Brandon even returned from the restroom, to head upstairs and
ensure Zoey's room was perfectly in order, her clothes put away,
case stowed out of sight.

I felt so nervous, I nearly threw up.

Was this how it was going to be with Zoey?
Was she going to keep testing me like this? When I had suggested
that I might be able to handle her playing with another man so long
as it wasn't a former flame, or someone she might see again, why
had she set up this rendezvous with Brandon?

She might have been testing me, but I
suspected she might actually have been testing herself. She had to
decide who she was - the dominant or the dominated. Her old life
under Brandon's thumb, the pliant obedient little woman, or her new
life in control of me, the independent, empowered goddess.

Perhaps I had to help her choose.

I knew Zoey was worth it. Thinking of how
fortunate I was to be with her kept me going, kept me obedient. I
dutifully finished up and vacated the room, leaving the door
through to my room open.