NOTE:
I intended this to be the last chapter in the series. If you're interested, comment below and I'll consider an update or two as things progress for Jake and his new sub.
When I woke, I smiled drowsily. I was curled on my side in Jake's bed with the golden late afternoon sun slanting down through the windows. I ran the fingers of my right hand over the cuff on my left wrist and along the rope attached to it. That rope -- and all it implied -- sent a little quiver through me. I couldn't recall the last time I had felt so contented. Like the cat who'd gotten the canary
and
was now napping in a patch of sunlight.
There was enough play in the rope that I could sit up. When I did, I realized Jake must have checked in on me at some point; there was a bottle of water on the bedside table next to me, along with my phone and a granola bar. Cute. I could almost hear him growling at me to eat. I peeled back the wrapper, took a bite, and chewed thoughtfully. I felt a little more settled now, less panicky than I'd been this morning. Maybe I'd just been tired.
I looked around the bedroom. Everything was neat and tidy. The old hardwood floors had been refinished to a warm brown and small throw rugs were scattered here and there. The bed itself was a real work of art; it looked as if it had been made to order for a very particular kind of client. I idly wondered if there were places that catered to a BDSM clientele for such items.
After a few bites of the granola bar and half of the bottled water, I lay down again and thought about Jake. He was doing his level best to to entice me into his world. And he was doing a damn fine job. Everything I'd learned about him appealed to me. He was demanding, but it was clear that he didn't want me to be some kind of pushover. He had an almost magical way of capturing me with the fantasies he whispered in my ears, yet he was also honest and careful to explain things I didn't know.
The logical part of my brain continued to throw up roadblocks, however. As I'd said to Jake, we weren't starry-eyed teens with raging libidos -- although my libido at the moment begged to differ. We were adults, with various amounts of regrets, lessons learned and cautions, courtesy of past relationships. Jumping into things made no sense. Unless I was supposed to look at this as nothing more than a certain kind of sexual gratification. And that left me feeling a bit flat.
Almost as if my thoughts had summoned him, I heard Jake unlock the door and enter with what sounded like the rustle of bags. I remembered that he'd said we'd be making dinner together. Great. He'd find out sooner rather than later that my culinary talents were limited.
I heard him moving around, putting things away in the kitchen, which was just outside the bedroom. After a few minutes the door opened, and Jake popped his head in and smiled. "I see my pet is awake. Feel better now?"
I nodded and sat up again, quickly remembering to leave my legs open. He grinned as he noticed my small correction. Releasing my arm from the cuff, he kept hold of it and placed his lips on the inside of my wrist, slowly moving them up my arm. It was almost embarrassing how instantly aroused I was.
"Were you thinking of me?" he murmured, as his lips reached my shoulder and then my neck, where he gave me a harder nip than I was expecting. What I'd intended as a yelp of pain came out instead as a needy cry. I nodded again and then said daringly, "See for yourself...Sir."
His eyes darkened indefinably, and he put a possessive hand between my legs. His smile said it all as I opened them wider for him. "Good girl," he said approvingly, stroking me there with a firm hand, his other firmly clamped on my thigh. My eyes were half-closed with pleasure.
Wonderingly, I heard myself whisper, "What is it about this that feels so...intoxicating?"
His fingers slipped easily inside me, filled me, as he answered, "Submission can be intensely erotic. Especially when it goes deeper than just the physical." His words echoed the thoughts I'd been having right before he'd returned.
"Does this...go beyond the physical?" I asked, a little afraid of what his answer might be.
He kept up his distracting stroking. "It can. The more time we spend together, the more I think you are a submissive who would find that the deeper experience fulfills something in you. Something you've been looking for."
I realized, with some disappointment, that he'd chosen to take my question as a general one. My eyes closed as I gave in to the building pleasure caused by his talented fingers. Suddenly my hand reached out, clutching his arm, "Sir...please...I'm very close." For some reason, I found it hard to ask for the permission I wanted without being in the middle of a wild coupling.
To my surprise and dismay, Jake removed his fingers. "Good. That's just where I want you. This evening, I'm going to tease you and keep you on edge until you are begging me for your release. Until you can't entertain a single thought in your head other than your desperate need to come." Letting that sink in for a moment, he smiled. "Now let's go make some dinner."
He cast a meaningful look at my half-eaten granola bar as he pulled me to my feet. I started to reach for my jeans, but one look at his face had me straightening up. His smile broadened. "I may have forgotten to mention that when you're here with me, you'll wear only the clothes I allow." One hand lazily reached for my breast, thumbed my nipple. "I'm a very hands-on dom," he said, "And I want you naked and available to me tonight. No clothes." He squeezed, then let go. "Go do what you need to do and meet me in the kitchen when you're ready."
I let out my breath. Being naked in the bedroom seemed fairly normal. But...no clothes at all while we cooked, ate dinner? Definitely outside my comfort zone. Especially since I could see he'd be fully clothed. I went in the bathroom and looked critically at myself in the mirror while I brushed my hair. Not bad, though I'd recently decided my breasts, which were on the ample side, looked better with a bra at my age. And my waist wasn't as defined as it had once been. I sighed. It wasn't as though he hadn't seen me already.
When I walked into the kitchen area, which was broadly defined by a U-shaped zinc counter, I found Jake uncorking a bottle of white wine. A large wok on the cooktop suggested we were having stir-fry. I looked uneasily from the wok to my uncovered breasts, knowing how the hot oil could spit and sizzle.
Jake saw my look and grinned. He pointed to one of the counter-height chairs that he'd pushed around to the end of the counter. Handing me a glass of wine, he said. "Don't worry. I'll do the stir-fry. Take a seat. Do I dare trust you with a knife to chop some of these vegetables?"
I nodded, then said, "I can do that. I have to warn you, though. My cooking skills don't go much beyond that. Maybe a few passable pasta dishes."
He grinned, "Pasta is good. Next time you can cook." He handed over what looked like a serious knife as well as some bok choy and red peppers. He'd already started chopping onions, and there was a pile of snow peas in the drainer. From the logo on the bags, I could see that he'd been to the farmer's mart and felt a little impressed. "That knife is very sharp. Cut first, then you can drink the wine."
I made a little face but followed his instructions. I also remembered to keep my legs open, even though it made me feel...I couldn't put my finger on the exact word. Not just submissive or aroused. It was more than that. Maybe it was the fact that I felt displayed for his pleasure; subject to his whims and demands. Other than the fact that I was naked, it was almost like a normal date. Jake told me a couple of stories of things that happened at the store that afternoon, then he asked me a question or two about my job.
I finished chopping the veggies, then took a sip of wine. Jake leaned on the counter, his glass in his hand, eyes on my body. The heat in them made me forget my insecurities about how I looked. "Is there anything you don't like?" he asked teasingly, "In your stir fry, I mean. I got pork, but I also have chicken if you prefer it."
Two could play at this game, I decided, so I dipped my head and answered demurely, "I'm fine with whatever you want, Sir."
He shook his head at me, with a little smile. After taking another swallow of his wine, he set the glass down and walked over to stand in front of me. Lifting my chin, he said, "You're a bit of a minx, aren't you, when you're feeling comfortable? I think I'll enjoy myself keeping you off balance for a while." He stepped back, studying me.
"Take another sip of your wine, then put your glass down," he said. His eyes held mine as I followed his order. "Now dip your finger into your wine and rub it around your nipple. Get it nice and wet." I took a shaky breath and did it, making a little sound at the feeling of the cold wine and how it caused my nipple to tighten. He leaned down and suckled at it. Just one small point of contact -- his lips on my nipple -- but my whole body felt it, arching slightly. My head tilted back in pleasure.
"Now, the other one," he said, his voice a little huskier. I eagerly complied. This time he lapped at the wine first, before fastening his lips around my nipple. I let out a soft sigh when he pulled away as a timer sounded. He'd been pre-heating the oven, and now he slid in a small tray with a couple of stuffed eggrolls. Again I recognized them as the good, fresh kind from the market.
I thought he'd start the stir-fry now, but instead he went into the larger room behind me, opened a drawer, and came back with...rope. I must have given him a look when he returned with it, because he grinned and said, "Oh, this isn't the main feature, pet. This is just a little...shall we say, appetizer?"
If his intention was to keep me off balance, he was doing a great job. I swallowed and watched him unwind the rope, running it through his hands appreciatively. He positioned my legs so they were even wider apart and started tying me, at the ankles and just below the knees, to the legs of the stool. For the first time I noticed how sturdy the stool was, and how the stretcher between the front legs extended out to each side, making a comfortable place where I could rest my feet.
