Author's Note: I strongly suggest you read chapter 1 if you have not done so already. There are oblique references within this chapter that may not make sense without knowledge of the first chapter.
Thank you to those of you who gave me such kind comments. Consider this multi-chapter story a kinder gentler exercise in BDSM, wherein I try to explore the feelings and motivations of the main characters, while experimenting with communicating the true depth of feeling and sensual experiences of the characters.
H Mauthor
*
We lay on the floor for about twenty minutes, saying nothing. I had grabbed her robe, throwing it over the two of us as best I could. Claire seemed to be dozing, but then sighed and squirmed in my arms, twisting to face me.
"I'm not, you know!"
"All evidence to the contrary, you still think so? Well, let's say you're a submissive with a need for control. But, after all, that is what defines many submissive people."
Her head, which had been nestled into my pecs strained to look up at me. "Huh?"
I smiled at her, hugging her close to me. "No two people are alike. It's not like they stamped you out of a submissive mold. I wouldn't presume to believe I know everything about you. But I do detect evidence of strong submissive tendencies."
The moue on her face told me exactly what she though of that.
"Would you like to leave now?"
I laughed at the alarm on her face. "You don't have to, but remember I did say it was always an option. I was just checking."
"No. I... I've nowhere to go."
"Is that the only reason? I'd be glad to give you enough to get set up somewhere, and you're welcome to keep the clothes you've bought. I might even be able to find you a job, depending on what you can do."
Emotions criss-crossed her face; I imagined a thousand things flitting through her mind. Suddenly her eyes were brimming with tears as she whispered, "I hated what you did to me... and I loved it. I've never taken orders like that before. I'm able to take care of myself, and yet I feel so safe here with you. That scares me most of all."
"Is that why you're sad?"
"I'm not sad, I'm not happy, I'm both, I'm neither, I'm so confused. You need to decide for me."
"Decide what?"
"To stay or go."
I smiled sadly at her upturned face. "I need to decide? Doesn't that say it all?" I thought.
But I shook my head. "I can't. This is your decision to make. I can't make it for you. There are things I want from you that you don't know yet. You might hate me later for my decision, for it would certainly be for you to stay. At any rate, if you stay you can change your mind. I won't ask a commitment yet, at least until you know what a commitment means."
She laughed. "I can guess what it means."
"I doubt it. Let's get more comfortable. Did you buy something to wear around the house?"
Her head bobbed up and down.
Good, why don't you go get dressed, and meet me in the media room. It's just down the hall here on the right.
We stood and she reached for the robe, but I held on to it. "No, go as you are."
Curtsying gracefully, she pronounced with much solemnity, "Yes, mi-lord. Whatever mi-lord asks. Your wish is my command." Then she laughed, turned and pranced down the hall and up the stairs.
The sight was enchanting, the muscles in her calves, thighs and ass flexing as she went, and the lips of her pussy peaking out, not quite as inflamed now. I was finding it increasingly hard to keep my lust in check. I adjusted myself and went to the media room.
As I sorted through a pile of DVDs Claire entered the room and sat in one of the viewing chairs before the large screen. She was dressed in a knee-length jean skirt, artfully faded and ripped of course, and a dark green t-shirt with a deep v-neck. Her feet were still bare.
As I continued to sort through the DVDs she grew impatient, and said archly, "Master, are we going to watch some porn now."