The Word Master (13 page)

I nodded carefully. “And since then? Have there been other Masters?”

“No.”

“Not one?” the surprise showed in my voice.

“Not one,” Nancy was adamant. “After Phillipe went back to France, I became immersed in the business world and communication studies. I got involved in radio and found I was good at management. All those secret thrills I had experienced as a woman became deeply buried behind the business façade. That’s where they have remained, until you walked into my office.”

I regarded Nancy’s expression, watching her face carefully as I asked the next question. “What did you like most about your time with Phillipe?”

“Like most?”

I nodded. “What aspects of submission did you find the most arousing… and what parts did you not enjoy?”

Nancy frowned. “Is it important?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Compatibility,” I said. “Some women are intensely aroused by physical pain – something I have no interest in. Ever.” There was a significant pause. Nancy arched an eyebrow but said nothing. “Other women are turned on by humiliation, or bondage… I’d like to know the things you explored with your Frenchman that turned you on the most.”

Nancy thought for a moment – but only a moment. It was clear that she had a very definite understanding of what kind of submission thrilled her.

“I liked being humiliated,” she confessed. Her voice dropped to little more than a whisper. “Phillipe would sometimes take me to clubs and parade me around in front of other Masters. He would lift up my skirt and show them my pussy… or he would tell me to spend the day with no panties on…” her voice drifted into silence and then came back like a shifting breeze. “Those times were incredible,” she said. “It was the whole idea of being on display, being inspected, and being humiliated. It made me feel like… like I was a prize, or a special piece of his property…” Once again Nancy’s voice went quiet. These were dark confessions from a long time ago, but it was clear her memories from the past were still intense.

“And bondage… well actually being restrained, I guess,” Nancy added. “We never did anything with ropes, but I enjoyed being handcuffed. Phillipe did that a lot. He would cuff me to the end of the bed or to a table. One time he handcuffed me kneeling to a park bench at night and ordered me to suck the cocks of every man that came past.”

“And did you?”

Nancy didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. I could see the truth in her eyes and on her face.

“Did you enjoy that experience?” I asked instead.

“Yes.”

We sat for a long time silently staring across the table at each other like two poker players, each reluctant to reveal anything more of what we were thinking. Perhaps Nancy sensed my decision hung on a knife-edge.

“Jericho, I’m not asking for a commitment,” she said at last with an impulsive wrench of emotion. “Just a chance. That’s all.”

“I don’t like relationships.” I warned.

“I don’t want one.”

“And I won’t commit to anything beyond the moment we are in…”

“That’s fine. I accept that.”

“And when I say it’s over, I mean it’s over.”

She nodded her head. “If I fail to please you I will understand.”

“And forget about love.”

“I don’t believe in it either – I just want the experiences without all the relationship trappings. Just the experiences, Jericho,” Nancy put her hand over her heart like she was making a solemn pledge. “I want to come home from work and feel like a woman. I want a strong man who will bend me to his will and remind me what it’s like to be feminine and submissive.”

“It would be purely sexual. You realize that?”

“I do,” Nancy said. “I really do.”

I had a premonition then – some instinctive warning – but I couldn’t tell if it was an omen of impending disaster or delight. My face turned to stone.

“Okay…” I said, and the words from my mouth seemed heavy as lead. “Let’s go back to your apartment.”

Chapter 21.

Nancy had arrived at the restaurant by taxi, so we drove back to her place in my car. She lived just a few minutes out of town, but the journey there seemed to take forever. Nancy sat subdued, staring ahead, her face lit by the glow of the dashboard lights. I caught a glimpse of her from the corner of my eye. She had her hands clasped in her lap, her knees together and there was a smug contented smile soft on her lips.

That bothered me.

“You know these kind of office affairs always end badly. You know that, right?”

Nancy turned her head so that she was looking at me as I flicked my eyes to and from the road.

“This isn’t an office affair, Jericho,” she said. Her voice was calm and in control. “This is an agreement by two people – that’s all. We agree that I will submit to you after work hours, and in return you agree to remind me what it is to feel feminine and dominated.”

I smiled wryly. “That sounds all very practical and sensible,” I commented. “But it’s not the reality, Nancy. When it comes down to it, what you are asking for is an emotional connection – it can’t be otherwise. A good Master is going to make you feel things you have never felt before – adoration, devotion… all those awkward kinds of feelings that women tend to get tangled up in.”

Nancy pursed her lips and hooded her eyes. I felt her hand creep across the space between our seats and rest on my thigh. “I’m not like any other woman, Jericho…”

“Maybe,” I said without any conviction, “but you are like every other submissive – and every other submissive I have trained has developed a strong emotional bond – in fact, if they hadn’t, I would know I wasn’t a good Master,” I said. I flicked her a glance as I slowed for an approaching corner. “Submission and emotion are intertwined. You can’t allow yourself to experience the true satisfaction of submission if you don’t develop emotions for your Master. Trust is the cornerstone of a relationship like this… and trust is a pretty powerful fucking emotion!”

I don’t normally swear in general conversation, but I wanted to impress the point on Nancy. She nodded her head.

“I get that,” she said as if only to appease me. “I understand.” She said nothing else for several minutes. We drove through leafy narrow streets with cars parked on both sides of the road. The evening mist was just starting to roll in from the ocean so that the interior of the car became a dark cocoon, detached from the rest of the world.

I felt Nancy’s fingers slide a little higher up my thigh. When I glanced in her direction her lips were slightly parted and her eyes were slanted with sly sexuality. She was leaning towards me. I could see the soft sheen of her breasts lit by the ghostly glow from the car’s dashboard lights. She had slipped the straps off her shoulders. Her legs had slid apart and the hem of her dress was high up on the milky smoothness of her thigh.

Fuck it!

It was time to make a point.

Clearly words were not going to be enough.

I swung the car violently to the curb and slammed on the brakes. The car lunged to a skidding halt. I saw Nancy jerked forward against the restraint of her seatbelt and a sudden look of panic flashed across her face. I turned off the car’s ignition and turned in my seat until our faces were pressed close.

“Take your dress off.” I hissed.

Nancy flinched. Her eyes went wide and then she frowned in surprise.

“What?”

“You heard me,” I flared, bitter with frustration. “I want you out of that dress. Now.”

For a moment longer, Nancy hesitated, and then slowly she leaned forward and reached for the zip at the back of the dress. She drew it down while I waited impatiently. Nancy’s face was a frown of confusion and trepidation. She arched her hips off the upholstered seat and wiggled the expensive fabric down over her thighs. The dress fell around her feet.

She was wearing a black lace bra and panties. Her breasts were larger than I had imagined, and the lace of her bra was sheer so that I could see the dark shadow of her nipples. They were hard little buttons that pressed through the fabric. Her body was trim and pale. The panties were little more than a wisp of fabric and a thin strap around her hips. Despite myself I felt the pull of sexual temptation – the familiar ache of it.

“Now get out of the car,” I insisted.

“What?”

I glanced through the windshield. There was an intersection about two hundred yards further along the road. I saw cars cruising by in the night, the fumes of their exhaust rising like foggy plumes into the dark night. I pointed.

“Walk up to that corner,” I went on remorselessly, ignoring the wrench of anguish that had fallen like a heavy drape over Nancy’s face. “Stand at the traffic lights. I want you on display. I want you to walk there like a hooker.”

She started to shake her head, maybe in disbelief, maybe an instinctive reaction and the prelude to her refusal. I cut her off.

“Up until now you have controlled everything about this situation,” I thrust my face close to hers, my jaw clenched. “You have manipulated me into accepting to train you, and since that moment you have gone out of your way to be flirtatious and provocative. It ends here!”

Nancy’s expression became petulant. Her eyes snapped with an electric spark of outrage. She peered through the windshield.

“There could be police,” she said. Her voice became querulous, small and whining.

I nodded. “And men might pull over and ask you how much it is to suck their cock. I don’t care. It’s about time you learned that I am your Master and you
will
submit to me. You
will
obey me… or you can find another guy.” I let the threat of my words sink in. I had nothing to lose. I could walk away from this right now and not glance back once. If it cost me my job at the radio station, then it was a small price to pay for a life lesson learned. Nancy’s eyes were huge. She was biting her lip and I saw – for the first time – fear in her eyes.

Good.

“I’m not someone you can control, and if you think you can, I will break you, Nancy,” I went on relentlessly. “I will break you wide open and leave you utterly wrecked. You don’t want that to happen. If you defy me again, or if you ever try to influence my actions or emotions, I will shatter you beyond repair. Submitting to me isn’t a game – it’s a test of everything you believe – everything that you are. You surrender completely, or not at all.”

Three seconds of ticking silence.

“Decide!”

Nancy seemed to have shrunk. The gloating sense of smug satisfaction on her face had dissolved. She searched my eyes one last time, and saw nothing but blackness and a face carved in stone. She reached for the car door, her cheeks scalded with humiliation.

I watched Nancy step up onto the curb and walk towards the intersection. Her legs were stilted and jerky. She had her hands clasped in front of her. The night air was crisp, so that I could see the steam of her breath. She reached a dark shadow under the umbrella of a tree and looked back at me, her body drawn tense into a silent plea.

I did nothing.

After a long moment she turned and walked in her lingerie all the way to the street corner.

The traffic across the intersection was sparse – perhaps a vehicle every ten or fifteen seconds. Most of them cruised by. A couple slowed, then accelerated away. I lost sight of Nancy as she went around the corner. A moment later she came back into view, prowling anxiously, her eyes fixed on where I sat watching.

I waited for six minutes – long enough for her to know I was serious – long enough for her to understand that she no longer had control of her sex life or her emotions.

I started the car and cruised to the intersection. Nancy saw me coming and froze like a deer caught in the headlights. I pulled up alongside her and pushed the passenger door open. She reached for it gratefully. In the background, above the burble of the car’s engine, I could hear the endless drone of the city.

Nancy leaned inside the car door. I held up a hand to stop her.

“No,” I said. “First, you get down on your knees and beg me to forgive you.”

Nancy’s mouth gaped open. Something dark and liquid moved behind her eyes. I stared at her in a trial of willpower. She lowered her gaze. Her expression faltered and then she sunk slowly down to the blacktop and looked at me with a wrench of beseeching appeal. “I promise to submit and serve you,” she said. Her voice cracked. She choked back a sob. I could see a glitter of tears welling in her eyes. “And I promise I’ll never try to manipulate you again… Master.”

Chapter 22.

When we reached Nancy’s apartment I parked the car out on the street rather than use the underground parking garage. I could see the shadow of a doorman inside the building. He was wandering around aimless and bored. He had a brown uniform shirt on and matching pants.

“What floor do you live on?”

“The ninth,” Nancy said pensively. She was still stinging from her humiliation.

“Put your dress on.”

I heard Nancy gulp with relief. She nodded her head with a tragic kind of gratitude and shucked herself back into her gown.

We got out of the car. Nancy smoothed her dress down her thighs and took a deep breath. She checked her reflection in the car window and pressed at her hair. I snatched her hand possessively and we walked up the stairs and through the double glass doors.

The doorman gave Nancy a silent smile and me a nod of the head. He was an older guy with forgettable features who carried himself with the weary listlessness of someone who was filling in the last years of his life and waiting to die.

Nancy and I went to the elevator and I pushed the button. The building was silent. It was an upmarket complex – lots of marble and dark timber. There were potted plants in the foyer and a couple of landscape paintings on the walls.

“Give me your apartment key,” I insisted.

Nancy dug obediently into her little clasp bag and handed me a key with a black plastic tag attached. I held it up. “I want a key cut for myself – tomorrow,” I said. “And next time you see the doorman, you tell him I am a friend of yours and I will be visiting you a lot.”

Nancy nodded. The elevator doors whispered open. We stepped inside.

As soon as the doors glided shut, I exploded into movement.

With the ease that only comes from practice and experience, I turned Nancy round and pressed her up against a wall so she had her face to the cool stainless steel. She let out a choked shriek of shock, and then one of my hands wrapped around her mouth, muffling the sound. I thrust my free hand up beneath her dress until my palm was rubbing her pussy through the soaked damp heat of her panties.

She stood like a cop was frisking her. Her legs were splayed, her hands planted above her head against the wall. She was trembling with arousal. Her dress was bunched around her hips and she started to pant uncontrollably.

“This is what you can expect,” I rasped with my mouth close to her ear, my body pressing her so she could not move. She was completely vulnerable. “You can expect me to take you and use you whenever I want to – regardless of where we are, regardless of who is around us.” My hand slipped inside the silk of her panties and I felt the wetness of her. She was shaved, soft and smooth and the scent of her arousal hung in the air like a heady perfume. I growled, the sound thick with lust.

Nancy bucked her hips, and then pushed herself back against me provocatively. It was an instinctive gesture – something she had no control over. I slapped her bottom and she sunk her teeth into the fingers of my hand to stifle her moan of pleasure. I pressed two of my fingers deep inside her pussy and she buckled at the waist, then went soft as sexual need overwhelmed her.

Nancy began to gyrate on my fingers, rocking her hips in a slow provocative dance, her movements erotic and sensual, but for her own satisfaction only. I could see the smudged reflection of her face in the stainless steel of the wall. Her eyes were shut, her brow furrowed in deep concentration. She was focusing on her pussy, alert and sensitive to each new sensation as my fingers began to slide in and out of her. I took my hand from her mouth and she gasped. I slid my fingers down around her neck. It was enough to spark a fresh moan of desire. I tightened my grip around her throat and Nancy whimpered. “Yes!” she gasped. “God, yes!”

It was a revealing moment. The tighter my grip on her throat, the more aroused Nancy became. She thrashed her head from side to side and drove herself hard onto my plunging fingers. Her eyes flew wide. She licked her lips and her legs shuffled shamelessly wider apart to give me better access. She was sobbing with an intense craving for release.

I glanced at the digital counter by the elevator door. The 6
th
floor slid by.

I took a sudden step back. My cock was hard within my jeans. The rush of Nancy’s wet arousal was coated on my fingers. I held my hand to my face and inhaled the aroma. Nancy turned, wild eyed and heaving for air. Her panties had slid down her thighs. Her face was flushed deep red. She clutched at her underwear with trembling fingers and then dabbed at her throat, the burn of my touch still simmering on her skin.

“Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head. “No. I wanted more,” she said. Her voice was reedy and unsteady, as if she had run up a flight of stairs. The elevator counter showed we were passing the 8
th
floor. Nancy combed her fingers through her hair and took three deep breaths.

When the elevator yo-yoed to a stop, we stepped out into a tastefully decorated passageway with numbered doors on either side. The walls were lined with framed paintings and the carpet was plush. The air smelled of artificial pine freshener. There were recessed lights in the ceiling every twenty feet. The corridor was empty.

“Which apartment is yours?”

“906 – the one at the end,” she gestured with a nod of her head. I followed her to her front door. Nancy stopped and kicked off her heels, clutched them in her hand, then unlocked the door and pushed it open.

I stepped into a large apartment that had all the cozy charm of a scientist’s laboratory. The walls were white, the furniture was white, the carpet was a soft muted shade of grey. I could smell the lingering odor of cigarette smoke. I followed Nancy into a wide kitchen area with white cupboards and grey floor tiles. The only color I could see came from a large potted plant that was in a corner beside a set of sliding glass doors. I went across the living area. The doors opened onto a small private balcony that projected out over the front of the building. I looked down to where my car was parked and then took in the view of the city, lights twinkling in the darkness and the sound of traffic just a distant hum. Carried on the night was the whisper of a cool breeze.

“Nice,” I said as I came back inside through the glass doors. I glanced at the potted plant and realized it was plastic. “Did you do the decorating?” That was sarcasm.

“I’ve never had time to decorate,” she said without noticing. “I’m barely here. Most of my time is spent at the office. The apartment…” she looked around like she was seeing the place for the first time and shrugged her shoulders… “Well it’s just a place to sleep and eat.”

I smiled meaningfully. “And fuck,” I finished her sentence. “And you will be doing a
lot
of that, I can promise you.”

Nancy nodded her head. She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of champagne and two tall glasses. I arched an eyebrow. “You were confident,” I taunted her.

Nancy blinked and then blushed like a child caught red-handed. “I was hopeful,” she admitted sheepishly.

“Master!” I snapped.

She lowered her eyes and bowed her head. “I was hopeful, Master,” she repeated the words in a whisper.

I stalked across to the kitchen. Nancy hurriedly set the champagne and glasses down on the counter. “Every time you speak when you are serving me you will call me Master,” I said in a low menacing voice. “Do you understand that?”

Nancy nodded her head. “I’m sorry… Master.”

I took her chin in the cup of my hand and lifted her face to mine and then kissed her with such a ferocity of passion and desire that she reeled back before the force of me. Her bottom pressed against the edge of a counter and she bowed her back like a tree bending before a gale. I dominated her, overpowered her. Her lips were soft, her mouth opened to welcome my tongue. I wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her against the hardness of my cock so she understood my need.

I felt Nancy’s hands go to my shoulders but that was not what I wanted. I trapped her wrist and pushed it down between our bodies. “Rub my cock,” I hissed.

Nancy’s hand came alive. I felt her tugging at my belt with desperate fingers while my own hand forced her dress off her shoulders and unsnapped the clasp of her bra. Her breasts spilled out, the flesh of her soft and warm, the nipples delicate as rosebuds. I dipped my head and sucked her into my mouth. Nancy started to sway on her feet. She reached down inside my jeans. I felt her fingers wrap around my shaft and she made a soft little sound of delight.

Nancy’s nipple swelled between my lips. I pushed the dress all the way down over her hips and then turned her around so that she was folded over the kitchen counter.

Nancy spread her legs. I tugged her panties aside and pressed the swollen tip of my cock against the slick wetness of her pussy. She clenched her hands into fists. I pushed my palm into the middle of her back, pinning her to the cool countertop, and with my other hand I slowly guided myself deep inside her.

The grip of Nancy’s pussy was like a velvety glove. Her body went rigid. I threw my head back and growled as her muscles pulsed and rippled around me. For a long moment I was satisfied just to be inside her. Nancy slowly relaxed. She was hot and tight. My cock tingled with arousal. I eased myself back and then slowly filled her again, thrusting with my hips until our bodies were locked together.

Nancy whimpered. Her hands fisted and then relaxed as though keeping time with the clench and release of her pussy. I thrust into her again and her whole body rocked.

“This is for me,” my breath rasped ragged in my throat. “You are not to come!”

Nancy twisted her head round, aghast. Her mouth was open, her lips inflamed and swollen from the smolder of my kisses. She saw the look in my eyes – recognized instantly that I was not to be questioned. She wrenched her eyes tightly shut as though to restrain herself would take all of her will.

I plunged myself into Nancy’s pussy, balanced on the balls of my feet, my weight slamming back and forth as the rhythm of passion rose to a frenetic crescendo. Nancy met each thrust with desire and desperation, driving me deeper inside her. Her legs began to tremble, and the sound of our bodies slamming together was like a beat beneath the rasp of our sawing breaths.

I felt myself swelling. I felt the hardness of me become an ache. I reeled away on the brink of exploding and Nancy fell instinctively to her knees. She opened her mouth wide and engulfed me as the first pinwheels of blinding light detonated behind my eyes. I felt myself lunge forward and then a tremor ran down my legs and I snatched for the counter. My cock pulsed, and then pulsed again. Nancy made soft moaning sounds as my come spilled across her lips and she swallowed like she was dying of thirst.

Everything came back to me through a haze. Sound seemed muted, and my vision was blurred. I could feel myself gasping for breath and the deep heave of my chest. I shook my head to clear my senses.

Nancy was still on her knees before me. She was licking her fingers, her eyes enormous and somehow soulful with satisfaction. Her face was lifted to mine expectantly.

“You did well,” I admitted grudgingly. She had done
very
well.

“Thank you. Master,” she said softly.

“Did you come?”

She shook her head. I believed her. I nodded. “Good girl. I know it might seem unreasonable, but I am not a selfish man. You will get your orgasm and many more… tomorrow.”

Nancy accepted my decision, but she didn’t understand. I could see that in the flicker behind her eyes. I lifted her to her feet.

“The first thing you must learn is that to submit means surrender and sacrifice. You forsake your own sexual needs and you commit yourself to the giving of pleasure. By doing that with enthusiasm and passion, so you are rewarded by
receiving
pleasure. Does that make sense?”

Nancy nodded slowly. Maybe there had been a better way of explaining. “For now, I want you to understand you must give in order to receive, Nancy. This whole thing stopped being about you when we were driving here tonight.” As I said the words her face darkened as though she was recalling her humiliation on the street corner. “From now on, it’s about serving your Master. Dedicate yourself to that completely – and trust me.”

I fastened my jeans and scooped up my car keys. Nancy looked crestfallen. She stood amongst the tangle of her clothes with her hands clasped before her.

“Are… are you leaving, Master?” she asked in a tremulous breath.

“Yes,” I said. “I will be back tomorrow.”

She started to ask another question – it was right on the tip of her tongue. She saw the warning glare in my eyes and bit down on the words.

Better!

“I will come back tomorrow night,” I said without telling her a time. I wanted her waiting. “And when I arrive, you had better be wet… and rested, because you won’t be getting much sleep.”