He liked the sound of her high heels on the hardwood floor. It was a hard surface you could dance on. Then it occurred to him the sound was similar to a Flamenco dancer on a wooden stage. He smiled to himself about the 'dance' they would soon be doing.
She arrived at his front door just before two in the afternoon dressed as he had suggested, so far as he could tell, but there was no knowing what she was wearing under the simple, elegant dark green satin blouse and straight black skirt. He could see the stockings and high heels---both black. Her smile was engaging and her body was a swaggering invitation as she moved close to him, almost dancing in her high heels. He was quite sure her behavior was compensation for her uncertainty of what was to come.
She had agreed to the Blood Rite of submission, after he convinced her it would be a new experience for her psychically and physically. He had seen a cautiously amused smile when he used the two P words. She knew he used them to hook her. He had guessed that the dual appeal was the strongest approach.
Rochelle reviewed where they were in terms of intimacy. Intellectually, emotionally and spiritually they were closely connected. Still the most physical contact they had had was a brief touch reaching across the table at a coffee house or sidewalk café...hand to arm, fingers to the back of hand and best of all a perfunctory hug in the parking lot just before they parted. He had commented about how perfectly firm and slight her body was under his hands. 'Hmmm," she purred, " No more mystery. You have me in your hands."
About to agree to a quantum leap...a doubling or double doubling of faith and trust between them, she took a deep breath and asked, "Is there a sexual aspect to the ritual?"
He had pushed himself back in his chair at the coffee house, given his cup a half turn, pursed his lips and replied, "In part, but I think a better term would be sensual."
"Okay, but I need to know a bit more," she replied.
"What---and take all the allure of the unknown, all of the mystery, out of it?" he countered.
"Well..." she began, but he interrupted her.
"We've known each other for awhile. It comes down to trust. There has to be a huge amount of trust in any dee ess scene."
"What's dee ess?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion..
"Domination and submission," he said. "What's important is that it's really backwards since the sub---that's you---is really in charge. You can stop the action any time you want. I would be disappointed, but I won't abridge my honor or dishonor you. Do you understand what I'm saying?" he asked.
"Yes, I think so. In any relationship the power shifts back and forth from time to time. We're just saying that, since you are heavier than I am, the teeter-totter is going to favor you and I am going to be up in the air," she replied.
"Yes, seemingly, but you can jump off any time you want," he almost grinned at her. She leaned toward him across the table, raised her eyebrows, tucked her chin and nodded twice looking out of the top of her eyes directly into his. She was flirting...using every move she had ever practiced in front of her full-length mirror. He had her and they both knew it.
"Blood Rite of Submission Initiation is a real mouthful. I have serious concerns about the blood part," she frowned.
"Just a few drops...three to be exact," he advised.
"My you do know how to intrigue a person, don't you? You're not going to tell me any more of the details are you?" she smiled at him.
"Wouldn't want to drop your curiosity and anxiety level to the point where you'd lose interest," he smiled at her.
Another smile came through pursed lips and she asked, "Okay, when and where?
"My living room, Saturday at two, and I'll want you to dress a certain way," he replied.