Lesley took advantage of the fact that May’s eyes were lowered
to smirk at Romy. Romy frowned back at her, anxious that May might catch Lesley and think they were making fun of her. Lesley wasn’t taking this seriously at all. Neither was she, of course, but at least she was pretending to. She had only just managed to persuade Lesley that it wouldn’t be appropriate to make popcorn for them to munch while they watched May do her demo.
‘You must only raise your eyes to your master if he tells you to. If he commands you to look at him, you do so at once without hesitation,’ she said, raising her eyes. ‘That goes for all his commands, of course. You obey him immediately and without question. Failure to do so will result in punishment.’
Romy nodded. She wondered if perhaps she should take notes just so she would look like a diligent pupil. She felt she needed to look extra engaged to make up for Lesley.
‘Only speak when you are spoken to directly or have been given permission to speak,’ May continued. ‘And you must always address your dom respectfully as “Sir” or “Master” unless he instructs you otherwise.’
‘Would you be naked in that position?’ Lesley asked, and Romy was surprised to see that she had managed to wipe all trace of humour from her face.
‘Usually the submissive will be required to strip. It’s a reminder of your status, apart from anything else. Or you might just be wearing your knickers, depending on what your master requires. But he’ll give you clear instructions about what he wants.’
‘What about the master?’ Lesley asked. ‘Would he be naked too?’
‘Again, that’s up to him. He might be fully dressed, or naked to the waist, depending on the scene and his personal preference.’
‘Huh! It’s all about what
he
wants, isn’t it? And he gets to use
all these toys on you, but you don’t get to do anything to him? Seems like he has all the fun.’
‘In many ways, the submissive’s role is much easier than the dominant’s,’ May said. ‘The submissive surrenders herself completely to the dom – she hands over control of her body and her will. Her role is simply to follow orders, to do her best to please her master and place her trust in him completely. All decisions and worries are taken out of her hands. The dom, on the other hand, has a lot of responsibility. He chooses what activities they will engage in. He’s responsible for the welfare of the sub at all times. He must make sure that play is safe. He is responsible for taking care of all the sub’s needs – material, physical and sexual. He can never really relax during a scene because he has to stay in control at all times. He must be ready to stop play at any moment if the sub uses her safe word.’
‘Safe word?’
‘Yes, the sub has a safe word that she uses if an activity goes beyond what she can endure. If the safe word is used, play ceases immediately.’
‘And you don’t get punished for that?’ Lesley asked.
‘Absolutely not. Safe words are taken very seriously in the community, and must always be honoured. It shouldn’t be necessary to safe word, though. A good dom will be attuned to his sub’s responses and won’t push her beyond her limits.’
‘And what about the, er, dom? Does he have any starting position?’
‘Not really. It’s more of an attitude, a bearing. Why don’t you two girls try the submissive position and I’ll show you what I mean,’ May said, getting up from the floor.
Lesley and Romy looked at each other. Lesley shrugged and they both rose from the couch and knelt on the floor, adjusting themselves into the same position as May.
‘Very nice, Romy,’ May said, touching the top of Romy’s head.
‘Legs a little wider apart, Lesley. Good. Excellent, you two.’
Lesley and Romy looked at each other from under their lashes and exchanged a smile.
‘Observe my tone and manner,’ May said, pacing in front of them. Her voice had changed, becoming deep and stern. ‘Look up,’ she said, and they both lifted their heads. ‘My voice is firm and commanding. I have the demeanour of someone who expects to be obeyed. It’s not aggressive, it’s calm, assertive and controlled.’ She did look like someone not to be crossed, Romy thought. May seemed to have grown a couple of inches before her eyes, her shoulders back, her chin firm and unyielding. ‘When I give an order I expect it to be obeyed without question. If it isn’t, I won’t hesitate to administer the appropriate punishment.’ She stopped pacing and came to stand beside Romy. ‘I’m not cruel, but I am consistent and true to my word. Do you understand?’ she asked Romy, adding, ‘You may speak.’
‘Yes, Mistress,’ Romy answered, looking up at her.
‘Very good,’ May smiled. ‘Likewise, if my sub has pleased me, I will let him know. I’ll praise him, tell him he’s a good boy, perhaps pet him a little.’ She reached out and stroked Romy’s hair from the top of her head to her shoulders.
‘So it’s a bit like owning a dog?’ Lesley piped up, and Romy couldn’t suppress a giggle.
May sighed. ‘No, Lesley,’ she said, rolling her eyes in exasperation. ‘It’s nothing like owning a dog.’
‘Well, you give the sub collars and you train them, and they get treats for being obedient. And you give him a pat on the head and tell him he’s a good boy. Sounds like a dog to me.’
‘There’s nothing undignified about being a sub,’ May explained patiently. ‘There is great satisfaction to be had in serving a master. Or mistress.’
‘I’m
sure Lassie felt the same,’ Lesley said.
‘If he has particularly pleased me,’ May continued, ignoring Lesley’s wisecracks, ‘I might reward him by engaging in one of his favourite activities.’
‘Like chasing a stick?’ Lesley said, collapsing in giggles.
Romy threw May an apologetic glance, but May didn’t seem unduly perturbed by Lesley’s mockery. They were actually very fond of each other, and May knew Lesley well enough by now to recognise that it was just friendly banter and that Lesley didn’t mean any harm by it.
‘Yes,’ May said, unable to suppress a smile and slipping out of her dom role, ‘if he gets off on chasing a stick, then I might throw one for him. But I think you’ll find most subs would prefer a blow job.’
‘Hey, I won’t be “finding” anything about what does or doesn’t get them off. Romy’s the one who’s going to be doing that.’
As the practical part of the lesson was clearly over, Lesley and Romy got up off the floor and sat on the sofa again.
‘Ah, yes. And you still don’t know if this chap is a dom or a sub?’ May asked Romy as she came to sit beside her.
‘No. I don’t even know if he’s either.’
‘Or he could be what we call a switch,’ May said. ‘Some people like to play both roles.’
‘I’d say he’s definitely a dom,’ Lesley said. ‘I can’t see Kit letting anyone boss him around like that.’
‘Kit!’ May exclaimed, seemingly delighted. ‘Is that who you’re doing this for?’
‘Well … like I say, I don’t even know if—’
‘I think Lesley’s right,’ May said. ‘I doubt Kit has a submissive bone in his body.’
‘I don’t think
I
do either,’ Romy said.
‘Well, you might surprise yourself. And you’d be rewarded with the most intense pleasure you’ve ever experienced.’
‘Well
, thanks, May,’ Romy said. ‘That was really … an eye-opener.’
‘Any time, dear. Read those books I gave you, but don’t worry too much about taking everything in. If you’re with an experienced dom, he’ll take care of your training and teach you all you need to know. If he knows you’re new to this, a good dom will take it slowly.’
‘And what if she wants to be the mistress?’ Lesley asked. ‘The sub wouldn’t teach her, would he?’
‘That would be a little more complicated,’ May said. ‘There are lots of books on the subject. But the ideal would be to train with another dom. Perhaps you could get involved in the local scene and find an experienced dom who could show you the, er, ropes,’ she said with a little smile at the accidental pun. ‘You might be able to find some meet-ups or even play parties where you could learn from more experienced people. Anyway, I don’t think you need to worry about that,’ she said kindly. ‘I can definitely see Kit being a dom. He has a masterful way about him,’ she said dreamily. ‘There’s something very firm about the set of his mouth …’
‘Great! Well, thanks again, May. You’ve certainly given me a lot to think about.’
‘Happy to help, Romy. And if you have any more questions, don’t hesitate to ask.’
‘Well, that has to be one of the weirdest afternoons I’ve ever spent,’ Romy said when the old lady had gone.
‘I thought it was very entertaining. And cheaper than the movies.’
Then Luke started to cry.
‘Oh, thanks a lot, Luke,’ Romy said as she went to get him, ‘you
couldn’t have woken up a bit sooner and interrupted May’s little lesson?’ She lifted him out of his cot, holding him close and soothing him as she carried him back to the living room.
‘Want to stay and get a pizza or something?’ she asked Lesley.
‘Yeah, love to. You should see if they do one with Pedigree Chum.’
‘Shut up,’ Romy said over her shoulder as she went to the kitchen to get Luke a bottle, Lesley following behind.
‘Might as well get used to the taste,’ Lesley said.
The
following Thursday night Romy was pacing the floor with Luke, trying to lull him to sleep. He was fractious and moany, and every time she thought he was dropping off, he startled awake and began crying again.
‘Maybe I shouldn’t go out after all,’ she said to Kit as he appeared in the doorway. ‘I can phone Lesley and cancel.’
‘She’ll be on her way by now. Give him to me,’ Kit said, holding out his arms for Luke. ‘You go and get ready and I’ll put him to bed.’
Romy looked at him uncertainly, but then handed Luke over. ‘Okay.’ She sighed. ‘But we don’t have to go out. We could stay here.’
‘Wait
and see what he’s like when Lesley gets here,’ Kit said as he settled Luke against his chest, rubbing his back soothingly.
‘Some music might help,’ Romy said. She wound up the little musical toy on the side of his cot and a plinky version of ‘The Teddy Bears’ Picnic’ began to play.
Kit rolled his eyes. ‘He doesn’t like this muzak crap, does he?’
‘It’s what all the kids are listening to these days,’ Romy said, smiling.
‘Well, no wonder he’s cranky. If I had to listen to that—’
‘You can try singing to him instead, if you like,’ Romy said as she left the room. ‘He likes “Nellie the Elephant”,’ she called over her shoulder.
Kit rocked Luke gently in his arms to the rhythm of the music, feeling his juddering sobs as he squirmed against his chest, and his hot, damp breath as he nuzzled into his neck. He hoped he could get him to sleep by the time Romy got back down. He was glad she had taken him up on his offer to babysit. She was so capable and energetic, but still, it couldn’t be easy being a single mum, and she didn’t get to go out much and just have fun. She had always been so ready to help him, and he really wanted to do something for her for a change.
When the little wind-up toy ran down and the music stopped, Luke’s cries had settled to little shaky sighs, and Kit could tell he was almost asleep. He didn’t want to risk putting him in his cot just yet, so he kept up his rocking and started to hum, just to be on the safe side. He didn’t know ‘Nellie the Elephant’, or any other children’s songs – but Luke wouldn’t know the difference.
He felt a strange sense of contentment wash over him as he paced the darkened room, feeling Luke go limp and heavy in his arms. There was something immensely comforting about the
warm beanbag weight of him. Being here with Romy and Luke, he felt part of something – something real and solid. He felt connected and safe. He was beginning to think his mom was right and he had been lonely in New York. His friendships had been superficial, his relationships fleeting. He had always shied away from this kind of domestic life, but he was surprised how calm and grounded it made him feel. He was beginning to think maybe he could really do this. Maybe Romy had been lonely too. They could be good for each other. He could be a father to Luke, and they could be a family of sorts. He could learn ‘Nellie the Elephant’.