The summer was almost over. Emma, to her surprise had enjoyed what was left of her summer vacation.
After the traumatic, terrifying and exhilarating start to her marriage, she and James settled into a delightful routine, spending time in Scotland, London and the villa in Corfu.
Emma had asked to be allowed to study further at university. She was waiting for her exam results, due in the middle weeks of August. One night, in early August, she and James had dinner in his flat in London and she asked him how he had come to be a part of the Order.
'I was at a strict Catholic boarding school until I was sixteen and had no idea of the existence of the Order of Saint Ishmael. My father took me to a club in London and he introduced me to one of the submissives. He told me that I would have to wait until I was eighteen, despite the age of consent being sixteen and that the wait would do me good.
He gave me a copy of 'The Story of O' and didn't mention it again until the end of the holidays.
He offered me the chance to attend a sixth form college that prepared the young men for life in the Order.
As soon as I read the book, I realised that I wasn't a submissive. It wasn't for me and I knew that I wanted to have a woman -- or women to wait on me hand and foot -- and mouth.
I was taken to The Castle at eighteen and through a disturbing induction.
You were locked in a cell and taught submission, but I was taught that sexual arousal is deceptive. I was blindfolded several times and had my dick sucked and once I came, I was shown that it made no difference if it was a man or woman doing the deed. I wasn't happy about this, but what can one do?'
Emma smiled, remembering Adrian, her jailer and steward and instructor telling her of this.
James continued, 'I became more relaxed around other naked men, but I'm heterosexual. I'll go along with a threesome if there's no other option, but to be honest, I prefer women.
There's a concept called 'cognitive dissonance'. You'll learn about this, my darling and come to recognise it. As a heterosexual man, I've fucked women and they are what I desire, but I can have sex with men, even though in my head, it feels wrong. Not sinful, but just not what I really want to do. If you manage to reconcile the subtleties of sexual desire and can write about them, then please help me to do the same?'
Emma was astounded. James was opening himself to her as an equal. She nodded her head and leant forward to kiss him, as she couldn't think of anything to say in return.
He kissed her back and pulled her towards him and into the bedroom.
They had been having a lot of sex. One day, as Emma knelt in front of James, he'd pulled her up and kissed her hard and something flared between them.
They'd been unable to keep their hands from each other after that. Each kiss was heady and rich with desire and they always ended up having completely (as James called it,) vanilla sex afterwards.
No spanking, no anal sex, no submission, just a lot of fucking.
Emma and James had discovered that their favourite position was her straddling his hips, penis buried deep inside her, face to face and kissing for as long as they could, until orgasm robbed them of conscious thought.
