Author's Note: I strongly suggest you read the previous chapters if you have not done so already. There are oblique references within this chapter that may not make sense without knowledge of the previous chapters.
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
I woke at nine-thirty. It had been a long time since I'd felt this relaxed. I felt around for Claire, but she was gone. I rose and emptied my bladder, my morning wood relaxing, then put on a robe.
As I walked toward the stairs I smelled bacon, eggs, and coffee. I found the kitchen table set and Clair standing at the stove in a long apron, her pert little ass facing me. I loved how her little peach of a cunt sat framed by her thighs.
I noticed the bruises on her legs and arms were fading, but she would be sporting a shiner for at least another week. I thought I'd better get some pictures before they faded further as I suspected there might be one or two issues with events at the airport.
She turned her head and caught me looking, smiled impishly, wiggled her bum, and said, "Sit down, it's almost ready."
I poured us both an orange juice, and asked, "How do you like your coffee."
"One milk," she tossed over her shoulder. Then she was plating the food and carrying the plates to the table. She removed the apron, and sat down across from me. I could not think of a more delightful view than her breasts perched just at the level of her plate. They almost looked as though they had been served up for me. In the cool air her nipples hardened.
I wrested my eyes from her glory and, looking her in the eye, said, "Bon Appétit."
Again, Claire's appetite was astounding. I wondered the girl was a thin as she was.
"How was your sleep?"
She smiled and responded, "Lovely, I was so relaxed." Then grinning impishly she said, "But I felt like the Princess and the Pea. Something kept poking me in the back, all night long."
Laughing, I retorted, "Count yourself lucky, it might have poked you somewhere else."
"Promises, promises."
"I was thinking somewhere further south."
Her eyes grew round, whether worried or eager I wasn't sure.
I put on my serious face. "Time to talk. What did you think of the video?"
She sat and thought, then said, "That is one seriously fucked up girl, no pun intended. What if you had really hurt her."
I smiled. "There was no chance of that. She was in full control the entire time."
Astonishment, then anger flashed across her face. "What kind of shit is that. She was tied up, tied down, totally at your control. You could have killed her if you had wanted to."
"Yes, that is the secret of a Dominant Submissive relationships, now isn't it. Total trust, total commitment. At any time she could have stopped everything with one little word."
"What do you mean? How?"
Smiling I put my knife and fork down. "Julie – that's her name – Julie had a safe word that she and I knew. Had she said that word, I would have stopped immediately and released her. But then she would have missed out on the pleasure she received.
The secret is that Julie trusted me implicitly to always have her best interest at heart. SHE gave herself to me, body, and soul. MY commitment was to take her to the very edge of her boundaries, to exact the maximum amount of pleasure for her. In her case, as with you, pain eventually brings her pleasure. Her addiction is such that now she craves the pain as much as the pleasure.
Did you see how she responded when I whipped her anus as she came. The ultimate mix of plain and pleasure. For her it was akin to reaching Nirvana.
But I want to talk about you and me, seriously."
Claire nodded, apparently afraid to say anything. Her neck was flushed a bit. Clearly even our brief discussion of the previous night's video had her flustered.
"I am a dominant. I like to take a woman under my protection. My goal is to teach her; to guide her. Naturally I want a submissive woman. I will teach that woman how to serve me as best she can, but that is not all. I will support her in being the best she can be.
I expect my... pets, if you will... I expect them to exercise, eat well, and attend school if they are so inclined. If not the latter I expect them to develop whatever skills they have. I won't live forever, and these relationships do not always last. I must assure myself that I leave a woman at least as well off and able to support themselves after they leave as before they met me, preferably better.
I expect strict adherence to the rules I set, and there are a few. You did quite well this morning. I assume the apron was only to protect your pretty tits from bacon spatters; you removed it as soon as it was not required. My women are to be naked at all times, unless I choose to adorn them, or if we go out."
Claire had been listening intently until now, but I could see she had a question. "Yes, what is it?"
Perking up, she asked, "You've said 'my women' more than once. How many women have you had? Do you have more than one at a time? What happened to Julie? Why me?"
"So many questions. I have had three women in my life at one time or another. I think any man who thinks he can handle more than one woman at a time is a fool. Do you know the Chinese definition of trouble? Two women under one roof."
She giggle at that. "What about Julie?"
"Wait, first I must clarify something. I may not have two pets at a time, but it is not outside my purview to bring another woman into our house, if only for a short time. The combination can be... interesting.
As for Julie, we were incompatible in the long run. She wanted to go to far darker places than I was prepared to go. The video you saw was tame compared to our last few sessions. I swear that woman would not use her safe word even if she thought I was going to kill her. That was not healthy for either of us. I won't lie. I get great pleasure in what I do to my women, but not for the reason you likely suspect."
"What do you mean?"
"Why do you think I do it?"
She frowned and knitted her eyebrows in thought. "I suppose it's because you like to inflict pain."
I shook my head. "I like to inflict pleasure; the more intense the better. Only a submissive who enjoys pain will suffice for me. Because only with pain can the ultimate pleasure be reached. I love to watch the tortured look on a woman's face her body twisting in delicious agony as she reaches completion. I love the taut, quivering muscles, the sheen of sweat, the beautiful swollen lips, and nipples, the flush on their chest, the exultant cries they make. But most of all I am addicted to the look in their eyes. The total submission, and complete, unqualified trust."
As I said this I subconsciously begun to rock slightly in my seat, my cock rising as I felt a flush of heat in my face, my voice becoming passionate in its yearning. It was like this every time with a woman. They had their sub-space; I had my dom-space.
