She Learns Her Place

"Did you have a good time tonight," you asked, trying to keep your voice neutral.

"Wasn't bad," I said, "there sure were some interesting people out tonight."

A long pause. I continued to look at you, with just the slightest smile. You were unsure how to proceed, you felt as if I knew what I was waiting for, but you didn't quite know what it was. You had the strong feeling that this was your moment. Then, the words just seemed to come out of your mouth on their own:

"But you came back."

"I came back," I said. "To take what's his," said the voice in your head.

After I said that, you saw my eyes drop over your body, as if I were examining you, almost possessing you. It was the same way I had looked at the women at Candy's, but now even less tentatively, more boldly. You saw by my expression that I was entirely sure of my rights, sure of what I was going to do, and enjoying the fact that I could take my time.

As you let my eyes run over your body, you realized that you were barely dressed. Barely dressed, just like the women at Candy's, just like you should have been before. But you were too shy then, and now you were no longer shy. Now you were proud, happy to feel my eyes on you. You liked the feeling that I was possessing and undressing you. You were glad, "glad that he's taking what's his, glad that he's taking what you've wanted to give him for so long," said the voice in your head.

After this long moment, you found yourself saying brightly, "Where are my manners? Can I get you anything?"

I let myself enjoy that comment for a moment, before saying, "Sure, a beer would be great."

"Coming right up," you said, as you rose and turned to go to the kitchen. But then, an idea struck you, and you turned to face me again. "You know ...," you said slowly, "I do have something better."

"What could that be?" I asked.

"You wanna smoke a joint?"

"Do you have to ask?"

With a devious smile spreading across your face, you turned the other direction to head into your bedroom. It took you awhile in there, because you couldn't remember where exactly you had stashed the joint a friend had given you a few weeks ago. Then, as you were heading out, you couldn't resist just a quick check in the mirror and a few passes with your hairbrush. You walked out of the bedroom with a spring in your step and, when you came into the living room, you stopped dead in your tracks.

I was standing, looking out at the lights twinkling beyond the window. But my position was not what surprised you. What caught your attention is that I had changed into my sleeping attire. On top I wore a nice, olive green t-shirt, which fit snugly across my shoulders (you noticed), but you had seen me in a t-shirt before. But on bottom, I had foregone the sweats I'd worn the past two evening in favor of a pair of off-green, slightly snug, silk boxers. And there was something about the way those boxers lay across my cheeks that just ... well, it made you stop dead in your tracks.

I turned around and just had to smile when I saw your expression. "Hope you don't mind," I said, "But I noticed you were already dressed for bed."

"Not at all," you said, absent-mindedly as you approached the couch.

We sat on the couch and, as the cool jazz played softly in the background, lit up the joint and began to pass it back and forth. Slowly. Letting the dope take its irresistible effect. As we smoked, we let our bodies gradually relax and sink into the couch, while also sinking towards each other. Listening to the music, we didn't say a lot, maybe an occasional few words about an instrument, a little twist to the song that caught our attention. When we passed the joint back and forth, we let our fingers touch, occasionally mingle together, as we watched each other raise it to our lips and slowly inhale and exhale. We shared a giggle now and then, and by the time we were halfway through the joint, we were letting our fingers run up each other's hand as we reached to take it. Though neither of us noticed, at least not consciously, that you were casually resting your arm on my shoulder, with your legs tucked up beneath you, while I had stretched my legs (invitingly) out on the coffee table.

Then, that voice in your head said, in a slightly groggy voice, "go ahead."

"Have fun tonight?" you asked.

"It was ok," I answered, maybe slightly smugly, waiting for you.

"You were looking good," you said, quietly, not boldly, and with no pretense.

"There were other guys that looked better."

"You're crazy," you said, with a little laugh.

"You can tell me," I said with a smile, "I won't be hurt. I saw you looking at them, dancing with them. Nice looking guys, right? Tall ... broad shoulders ... nice bodies ... tight buns ..." I continued, watching you slightly blush, knowing I was turning you on. "I'll prove it to you."

And with those words, I put my feet down off the table, reached to my waist and peeled my t-shirt up and off of my torso. You giggled for a moment at how quickly I had moved, but then you stopped, and looked at me, and gradually your face lost the expression of a giggly little girl.

I smiled back at you, maybe even a bit boyishly, impulsively, but not at all shyly. It was that same confident, relaxed smile that I had at Candy's. That smile remained on my face as my eyes fixed on you and I began to speak.

"I wish I was just a bit more developed, more defined," I said, as my hand moved slowly across my shoulders and began to drop to my chest, just as I had done while standing before the mirror in your bathroom. "I've got good muscle tone, but I'd like to be stronger, more perfect ..." I let my voice trail off as my hand continued to drop slowly over my pectorals, down over my chest.

All the while, you watched, fascinated, letting your eyes drop from mine to follow my hand. Then, even without thinking, you reached over to me. I was only inches away, and you just had to. You let your fingernails trace over my shoulders, and then burn a trail across my chest as they followed my hand. Then, you found yourself speaking:

"Maybe some others did have even nicer bodies," you said, breathlessly, almost in a whisper, "but that's not the only thing about you that's special. There's something in your eyes, in your manner, in the things that you say. You make it so clear that you know what you want, that at the same time, you never have to ask, you just ..."

As you finished, you looked back up to my eyes, to see me watching your lips form these words, and you realized what had happened. You saw that I had caused you to say these things ... not forced you ... just that I had set up the situation, I had made it so that you found it only natural to tell me how powerful I was, how seductive I was, I had just made it all so ... easy ... irresistible. I had set you up, perfectly. "Masterfully," said the voice in your head.

You let your eyes drop again over my body, posed comfortably on your couch, wearing only socks and my silk boxers, silk boxers that were being pulled to their limit by an erection that caught and fixated your attention like no man ever did to you before. Only one word was necessary from me:

"ready?"

"yes," you whispered quietly, tentatively, as the voice in your head asked "what do you say?"

"please ..."

With that word, my hand dropped down from my waist to my thigh, and slowly pulled aside my shorts until my shaft was free to stand powerfully, only inches from your face. Slowly, almost worshipfully, you bent over on top of me, to drop your lips down to my crotch. Then, you pressed them gently against the tip of my rod, feeling it so hot against your lips, touching it just slightly with your tongue, before opening your mouth and allowing me to enter you, as you welcomed me into your mouth. It was more comfortable, and more appropriate, for you to move off the couch, to drop to the floor, between my legs, on your knees.

It's true, you had sucked off a man before, but it hadn't been like this. Then, it had been done quickly, hurriedly, you wanted to give him what he wanted as quickly as possible so that it could be over, and certainly without any pleasure on your part. This time, it was almost exactly the opposite. You were in no rush at all, and as you felt me hardening and growing in your mouth, intense waves of pleasure moved across your mind and through your body.

You felt a thousand emotions all at once. You felt my intensity, my power, my masculinity, coursing like the blood through my shaft, and this was passed on to you, energizing you. You also felt that you were possessing me, in a certain sense, just as I possessed you when I had let my eyes run over your body. But it wasn't so much that you were taking something from me, but rather that I was giving something to you. You found yourself wondering what I had done while I was gone, even wondering if you were the first woman (or the first person, for that matter), to serve me tonight. But you didn't mind, you knew that I had come back to you, inevitably, and that I was there for you now, and you wanted to keep me, to prolong this moment, as long as you could. And because of that, you did your work carefully, caressing my cock with your tongue and lips, not at all rushing, showing me how good you were, making sure that I would come back to you as often as I dared. You were happy, contented with your task, satisfied to serve me as best you could.

What was I thinking? You could say that my thoughts were simpler, more composed, because my role was different. In a way, my work was done, and this was just the inevitable conclusion. My satisfaction comes through the whole process, the process of setting the situation for you, leading you to where you know that you want to be. Maybe I knew from those first moments we had shared where I wanted you to end up, where the story would lead, so that now, my only task is to lay back ... lay back and enjoy my good little Slave.

And good you are, Jennifer, very good you are at serving your Master. As you continued to work your lips and tongue over my shaft, alternately sucking powerfully and lavishing strokes of your tongue on my cock, moving your hands over my hips, caressing me, you felt me gradually become more and more excited. As my hips began to move to your rhythm, you moved your hands around to caress and squeeze my buns, to encourage me further. After an eternity, an eternity of your faithful, obedient service, you felt me grow harder and larger than ever, filling your mouth and pushing down your throat. You adjusted yourself to take me even further, to suck even harder, and to squeeze my buns with urgency, pulling me closer to you.

As I began to pulse and twitch inside of you, you didn't let up, bringing me right up to the edge, holding me there for an ineffable moment, before I exploded inside of you. Your head spun as you heard my voice cry out with delight and my breath came in desperate gasps. My whole body quivered and pushed against you, as you had to use all your force to keep me in your mouth so that you could continue to pleasure me, to draw every last ounce of energy, of power, of masculinity that you could -- so much so did this bring you pleasure, to share what I had to share with you.

Your hands clamped down over my hips as my legs pushed against you and my torso curled up and my body was wracked with waves of pleasure. I ended up, bent over, my face buried in your hair, my lips not far from your ears, as you heard my breath come roughly, almost like an animal, an animal that you had unleashed.

"Very good, little one," I gasped. "You've done very well."

Gradually, you felt my body relax, but you didn't take your mouth away from me. Instead, you continued to softly caress my shaft with your tongue, to clean me entirely and to extend my pleasure as long as you could, and as my body settled back onto the couch, contented.

After a very long moment, you slowly, carefully, let me slide out of your mouth, and you raised your eyes to meet mine. Looking at me, you knew in an instant how well you had performed. I looked back at you, contented, satisfied, as my hand gently stroked your hair and your neck, almost as if ... no, exactly as if ... you were my obedient pet.

"Good job, Jennifer," I said quietly. "Now, off to bed."

For a moment, you were confused. What had you just done? Didn't you deserve something more? But then, it struck you. You realized what you knew to be true, you realized what you wanted to do ... it was all so simple.

"Go ahead, little one, do as your told," said the voice in your head, "and what do you say?"

"thank you," you said, in a quiet voice, before rising slowly from your knees.

After one last, longing look into my eyes, you turned and padded softly to your room, and slipped beneath your soft, comforting blanket. Within a few moments, you were blissfully asleep.

-----

The next morning was Saturday, and as you had nothing planned, you were ready to sleep in as long as you pleased ... there was no particular reason for you to get up. You lay in bed and blissfully drifted in and out of a sort of half-wakefulness, half-sleep. You really had no idea where you were, or barely who you were. You simply enjoyed the warmth and fuzziness of your covers.

After perhaps an hour of this, you rolled over and looked at your clock. 10 am. At first, you thought nothing, as there was nothing you had to do, nowhere you had to go that day. Then, gradually, your life started to come back to you, then the more recent past ... then, last night.

At first, you dismissed what you had done as some barely remembered, silly dream. You couldn't quite place who had done what, or where it had happened. Then, you remembered that I was involved. Then, you remembered your experience at Candy's. Then, your thoughts, your fantasies last night started to come back to you and, when you heard a stirring in the kitchen, you remembered that I was staying in your apartment. Then ... oh my god ...

At first, you didn't even know what to think. "This must be some crazy dream," you thought. You couldn't believe that you could have actually done what you remembered having done last night, with ... to ... a man you barely knew. You had almost convinced yourself that it had been a dream, that you had drifted off on the couch last night while you were waiting for me, when you noticed a strange taste in your mouth ... and it all rushed back to you ... not least of all how much you had wanted it.

Your head started to reel ... you started to try to think of some explanation. You wondered what I could possibly think of you. Most of all, you knew you had to do something, before this "situation" got even more out of hand.

Like a zombie, you pulled yourself out of bed. You had to move, you had to act, you had to somehow take charge of a situation that you felt slipping (or already had slipped?) out of your control. Without even thinking about what little you were wearing, without thinking of slipping on your robe, you began to walk towards the door to the living room. But, for whatever reason, you did stop to check your hair in the mirror, and to brush it back into place.

You walked out, into the living room and, after seeing that I was in the kitchen, started to move in that direction, almost mindlessly, still unable to comprehend what had happened, or even to be sure if it was real. When you entered the kitchen, you saw me standing at the counter, quietly munching on a bowl of cereal. You already knew that I was generally quiet in the morning, so you weren't sure how to approach me. You didn't even know what I would say.

"Morning," I said softly, neutrally, as I turned back to my cereal. I was still wearing the t-shirt and silk shorts I had worn last night.

"Morning," you said and, seeking some escape, you turned to the refrigerator and opened it. As you stared at the food inside, you tried to think of something to say, of some way of re-establishing your equilibrium. After a long moment, words finally came to you.

Without turning around, or even closing the refrigerator, you began to speak. "You know, last night was pretty strange for me. I've never really been in a situation like that before and, I don't really know how to say this, but, I think I might have done some things that I wouldn't normally have done and, I just wanted you to know ... I mean, I wouldn't want you to think ... let's just say that maybe I acted a bit on impulse, and I wouldn't want you to get the wrong impression ..."

Your words trailed off. All along, you had been hoping that I would jump in, say something to rescue you from your discomfort. But you didn't hear anything behind you. In fact, you weren't even sure if I was still there. You just couldn't understand ... why wasn't I saying anything? Finally, your curiosity got the best of you and you just had to turn around. You weren't at all prepared for what you saw.

I had turned around, away from the counter, apparently to listen to you. And you guessed that I had heard what you were saying. But you couldn't register my reaction. I was looking straight into your eyes, with an expression as if I already knew what you were going to say, and with the same calm, confident smile I had last night ... last night, just before you had ...

You let your eyes drop over my body, and you saw that underneath my shorts, I was very stiff, very erect. An erection you were already familiar with, already knew. My hands rested calmly on the counter, partly supporting me, as I looked at you.

Although your mouth continued to move for a moment, no words came out. You didn't know what to say, what to do, or what to think. But you knew what you wanted ... and there I was. And you knew how hard I was ... and how good I was.

Involuntarily, you felt your feet begin to carry you forward, towards me. When you were only about a foot away, you felt your knees begin to bend, your body begin to drop in front of me, when you were surprised by the sensation of my hand cupping your chin, and raising your face to look up at me. You stopped, and looked straight into my eyes.

I was smiling. So happy. So proud. You could not help but smile too. You wanted just to reach out to hold me, and kiss me, but you knew that this was not the time. Instead, you straightened your body, dropped your eyes submissively, and waited for your instructions. Although you weren't looking at me, you could feel my eyes pass over your body, examining you, as I reached out with my right hand and tenderly caressed your shoulder, moving down your arm, to your waist.

My hand stopped there, and with one finger, I gently tugged on the waistband of your pajama shorts. Instantly, you knew what to do. But without hurrying, you reached up to slip them down over your hips, let them drop to the floor, and then stepped daintily to the side. Though your eyes remained lowered, you could imagine my smile as I saw the thong underwear you were wearing, and you were not surprised when you felt my hand reach around to caress your bottom, and to pull you slightly towards me, before running my hand up to you your waist again. With one finger, I traced around the waistband of your thong, to the front, until I lingered directly below your belly button. After a sweet moment, I gave another gentle tug, and you obediently reached up and removed your underwear.

As you did so, I removed my boxers and, as your eyes remained lowered, you now focused on my cock, even more strong and beautiful now, in the light of day. As it gently twitched, reflecting my excitement, you felt my hands move to your hips and I stepped towards you. Calmly, confidently, sure of my rights. I moved so close that the tip of my shaft was now pressed against your crotch.

"Look at me," I said, and you gladly raised your eyes to mine. For just a moment, I let my glance linger, I let my eyes examine and pierce into yours, removing the final veils, the final barriers, until their was nothing left between us and you were mine, mine to possess and enjoy ... mine to take. All the while, you did not dare to look away from me ... you did not want to.