She Learns Her Place

Our reaction was not entirely what you expected. We didn't move, we didn't even seem to be surprised, let alone angered, by your screaming. I merely turned to look at you, with that same confident smile, that same smile that I knew exactly what was going on in your head and I knew exactly what I was going to do with you, that I had given to you so often before. Tiffany just looked from you and, with a slight knowing smile, to me, as if she was awaiting something she had been promised.

You didn't move, but your body tensed up, your shoulders hunched, as you continued to yell at me. "Don't give me that smug little smile, you bastard. You're finished, get out, never want to see you again, over, I can't believe you, what the fuck were you thinking ..." you continued to yell, unable to form a coherent phrase, tears now welling up in your eyes.

As you continued your tirade, I looked over at Tiffany with a smile, as if to say, "didn't I tell you." I slowly and calmly pulled myself out of her body, pushed up on my arms, and then came to a standing position, still between her legs, looking at you with that same smile.

As you yelled at me, you couldn't help but look over my body. In my post-orgasmic glow, I looked better and more powerful than ever. I was still slightly out of breath, and the muscles from my shoulders all the way down my body were still slightly expanded from the workout. I was still hard. Very hard.

You continued to complain, now crying, confused more than anything else. You didn't know what to say, and it seemed so pointless. Neither of us seemed to have any inclination to respond to you. What's more, you couldn't help but notice, and were distracted by, what I was doing with my hands.

My right hand had started up on my chest, and it ran down slowly, across each muscle, across my abdomen, until it settled on my hip. My left hand started near my knee, and it slowly ran up along my thigh, my muscular thigh, until it too was on my hip.

Now I was standing, loose and confident, with my hands on my hips ... my hips which were slightly pressed forward, presenting myself to you. My calm manner was a total contrast to you ... you felt like you were just about to collapse ... you were at the end of your rope ... you needed something ... something familiar ... something to comfort you.

As these thoughts filled your head, you found your knees buckling, you felt yourself slowly dropping to the floor, and when you looked up, you saw me, you saw my shaft, so hard, so powerful, still twitching from my exertions ... from my exertions inside of her. Raising your eyes, you saw me smiling at you, the same way I had so many times before.

"Oh my god," you thought, "he thinks that ..." Then you looked over at Tiffany, she had leaned up onto her elbows to get a better view, and she was looking from my eyes, so calm, down to my rod, so powerful, to your eyes, so submissive. She was obviously completely turned on by this situation ... she had an expression on her face like she had never seen anything like this before, and she just couldn't wait to see more.

You were shocked.

You weren't shocked because I expected this of you.

You weren't shocked because Tiffany was there, ready to watch.

You were shocked because you were going to do it. Because you had to do it. Because you wanted to do it.

Slowly you crawled over on your knees to me, your eyes cast down to the floor. When you saw my feet, you raised your head, to see my cock straight in your face, as it had been so often before. As you took me in your hand, licked your lips, and then opened your mouth to put me inside of you, and then felt my shaft parting your lips and pushing open your mouth, you could think only one thing :

"It's what he expects of me. It's what he wants of me. That is all that I can do, all that I want to do. That he wants it ... makes it so."

-----

I was already hard as I entered your mouth, and as you worked your lips and tongue over my shaft, I became even larger and stiffer. You took this as encouragement and set yourself to your task. Over the past few weeks, you had had quite a bit of practice sucking my cock and you had become very good at it.

Expertly, you closed your lips around my rod and moved your mouth back and forth, alternating between slow teasing and a quick, frantic motion. When you took me all the way into your mouth, you would slide your tongue back and forth on the underside of my shaft, appreciating the moans of pleasure you heard from me, before sucking hard, which would cause my hips to press forward in response. All the while, you felt my shaft pulsating, throbbing, and twitching in your mouth ... letting you know how well you were serving me.

And your attentions were not limited to my penis. As your mouth did its work, your ran your hands over my muscular hips and thighs, while occasionally reaching in between my legs to gently massage my balls. And, when you had the feeling that I was particularly enjoying your work, you would reach around to caress and squeeze my buns, to encourage me to press forward even harder and to fill your mouth with my strong, masculine shaft.

After five minutes or so, as you felt that I was enjoying your service, you twisted your head to look up at my eyes. Usually, when you did so, I would look back at you and you would see the pleasure and passion that filled my expression. Often, I would reach down, stroke your hair, and say, "good girl, my good little cocksucker." These words would reassure you that you were pleasing your man.

But this time, when you looked up at me, you saw that I was looking to the side, at Tiffany. And instead of merely pleasure and passion in my expression, you also saw a look of pride, of triumph ... as if I had proven my point. When you twisted your head to follow my gaze (all the while continuing with your mouth and hands, of course), you saw that Tiffany was watching you work with a look of ... amazement ... that you couldn't quite describe.

As she moved her eyes from mine down to watch your performance, you saw from her expression that she was not only incredibly turned on, but also very impressed ... convinced even. At that moment, you understood entirely.

You realized that I must have told her earlier what would happen, what you were going to do, what you would be eager to do, even as she stayed there, in your own apartment, and watched.

Perhaps Tiffany hadn't quite believed me when I told her how you were entirely under my control. Not only incapable of objecting to anything that I asked of you, but also incapable of even formulating the idea that you could or should object. But what had happened here, in front of Tiffany, had proven my point. Your instinct, your need, to obey me had overwhelmed even your strongest emotions of anger and jealousy.

And, you thought, as you continued to work, now with even more devotion to me, my purpose had not really been to prove this point to Tiffany, but to prove it to you. I had shown you how simple your life had become (or at least, this aspect of your life) and how pointless it would be for you to seek any alternative.

When you had first heard Tiffany and I in your apartment, you were shocked. Then, you thought you were jealous and angry. But in the face of our calm ... even amused ... response, you realized that you were fooling yourself when you thought that you would object to what was going on.

Instead, as you watched us fuck on your living room floor, you realized that you were fascinated ... not only by the actual act we were performing, but by my power ... my power over you. My power to present you with any situation and yet remain entirely in control.

And in moment when you felt your knees buckling, you realized that you wanted to do whatever I required of you, whatever I desired. And that this emotion, this fascination, this need to obey me and satisfy me, was stronger than any other you had ever felt ... and that you would toss aside any of your other feelings or opinions ... toss aside even your own being ... in order to feel the emotions, the passions that I made you feel.

As these thoughts filled your head, you realized (again, at least in this aspect of your life) that you had no separate existence. You were merely what I desired you to be, and at this moment I desired that you be a mouth wrapped around my cock. And, despite the force of this idea, you found that you were not offended at all to be reduced to a set of lips and tongue serving a man's shaft. Instead, you found it to be quite a relief, and quite a turn-on. You found that it made it even easier and more pleasurable to focus on your task, when the reason you were doing so was so clear to you.

And, as you worked on my cock with more intensity than you ever had before, you were happy to realize that I had noticed this difference. The twitching, throbbing and pulsating of my shaft in your mouth became even stronger than it ever had before. And when I came, it was with a force that convulsed my whole body, as you gripped my hips and buns tightly in order to hold on to me. As I thrust my hips back and forth, you used all your strength to hold me in your mouth and to continue to suck as hard as you could, taking all of my fluid happily down your throat, and draining all of my passion away ... satisfying and relieving me as only you could.

My orgasm was so powerful that, when I had finished, I had nearly doubled over, and my face was pressed into your hair against the side of your head. "Good girl ... good little girl," you heard me whisper breathlessly, as my hands stroked your face and hair.

After a very long moment, after you continued to gently caress my shaft with your tongue, comforting it as it reduced slightly in size, you slowly allowed me to slip out of your mouth, as I straightened up to once again stand over you.

At that moment, you said in a whisper that only you could hear, "thank you."

You settled back on your heels as you remained kneeling in front of me. After your performance, the atmosphere of the room had changed. The three of us seemed to be caught in some sort of spell, our hearts pounding, still reeling from the force of what we had just experienced. You hadn't even had the chance to take off your jacket.

You wondered what I would ask of you next, but you were certain that you would do it -- quickly, eagerly and obediently -- no matter what it was that I asked of you. With your eyes properly downcast, you permitted yourself a sideways glance at Tiffany.

In this new attitude, you had to admit to yourself that she had a nearly perfect body and, as you found yourself admiring her, you also began to hope that I would command you to service her, just as you had me. This idea shocked you. Not because of what you hoped to do. But in fact you were shocked because even this idea was no shock to you. It was a further indication of your change in attitude -- that you would do in an instant what had previously been to you unthinkable.

All the while, my hand remained, gently caressing your hair and neck. Finally, I spoke, but what I said was not at all what you expected to hear.

"Why don't you run along now, Jennifer?"

A pause. An uncomfortable silence.

"Give us half an hour ... no, let's say an hour."

Still silence. No movement in the room.

"Go ahead, don't worry. I'll let you stay and watch some other time."

At this last statement from me, a statement that had to be intended to get under your skin, you shot a glance back at me. And you noticed that what got to you most was not the phrase "some other time," but "let you stay and watch," because hearing those words from me made you realize that's what you most wanted to do.

But when you looked at me, you saw that I was only smiling back at you, that same confident smile. And you knew you didn't have a choice. That you didn't want to have a choice.

You looked over at Tiffany, and her expression convinced you of what you would do. She seemed even more amazed now, and impressed by my power, than you had ever imagined could be possible. She was looking at me, almost with a look of awe, and with more desire than you had ever seen in a woman's face. Obviously, she was entirely turned on by my power over you. And you knew that as soon as you left, we would go back to fucking. Fucking with more intensity than ever, now that Tiffany was aware of who she was with ... aware of the power of the man inside of her.

This idea fascinated you, and it struck you that you had to make it true. You returned your glance to me, briefly looking into my eyes so that I could understand just how good a Slave you were, and how well you served me. Then, you leaned back and, taking my hand for support, stood up. Without a word, you turned and walked slowly to the door. You paused, just for a moment. But you didn't even turn around. Then, you walked out the door.

As soon as the door closed behind you, you heard movement in your apartment. You heard the sounds of two bodies coupling again ... coupling with vigor and energy. And only seconds later you heard the sounds of our pleasure beginning again.

You didn't know quite what to do. And you were surprised that the first thing you did was to look at your watch, and see that it was 14 minutes past the hour.

At first, you found yourself almost hypnotized by the sounds coming from your apartment, and by the idea of what was happening there. You almost wanted to stay, or even circle around to the other side of the building, where you could possibly get a glance in through the window ... if you went over to the top of the hill ...

But quickly, you stopped yourself. I had indicated to you that I didn't want you to stay and watch ... this time ... and you vaguely had the sense that you should do as you were told. With no other thought in your mind, you just walked slowly out of the building and down to your car.

You drove around, aimlessly. And as you did so, you began to think a bit more clearly about what had just happened. But you couldn't make head or tails of it. You knew how you "should" feel. The anger, the jealousy and the confusion were still there. You knew that a part of you was mad to find that your relationship with me was not quite what you expected.

But another part of you, the same part that was the source of the voice in your head at Candy's, told you that you never should have thought that our "relationship" (if you could even call it that) would or should be what you expect. Thinking back to that night at Candy's, and afterwards, and thinking about what you realized that night, it began to make a sort of sense to you.

Still, there was a part of you that wanted to rebel. To teach me a lesson. To give me what I had coming. This part of you, though, couldn't quite understand why you kept checking your watch, and why you were driving so that you would be back at your apartment by 14 minutes after the next hour.

At five minutes after the hour, you found yourself there again. Sitting in your car with your engine off. "Screw him," you thought to yourself. "I don't have to take this kind of crap, I'm more than that ..." You were just about to start the engine again, to take off, to go anywhere so long as it was someplace else, when you paused.

You realized one thing most of all. That I had never made you feel like you were any "less." And in fact, I had always made you feel like you were "more." [Jen, I hope so much that this is true.]

Not knowing quite what you were doing or why, you got out of your car and slowly walked back to your apartment. When you reached your door, you noticed that you heard not a sound coming from within. You wondered if I was even still there. You were about to open the door when, for whatever reason, you stopped and looked at your watch. It was 13 minutes past the hour.

You froze. You just didn't know what to do. On the one hand, you felt absolutely silly, but on the other, you just couldn't disobey me. I had told you to leave for one hour, and there was a part of you that knew very well that when I said one hour I did not mean 59 minutes.

Embarrassed, hoping that none of your neighbors would see you, you stood in the hallway. And when the minute hand ticked over to 14, you slid your key in the door, and opened it quietly.

When you entered your apartment and let the door close behind you, you saw Tiffany and I sitting quietly on your couch, each with a glass of wine in our hands. We were both dressed. Me in slacks and a shirt, she in a short skirt that barely covered her slim hips, and a blouse that was half-unbuttoned over her ample bosom.

I looked at you, and smiled. I looked over at the clock on the wall, then over to Tiffany, with that same look of pride and achievement. "Didn't I tell you?" I said.

"You sure did, Mark, you sure did," she said, her voice gushing with admiration. "You sure did tell me, and everything happened just like you said."

She got up, glanced at you, and then leaned over me, positioned perfectly so that you could get a good look at her long, beautiful legs. After a very slow, passionate, open-mouthed kiss, you saw her look into my eyes, smile, and whisper, "you're amazing."

Those last words stung, but you kept your composure. You knew that I wanted you to, as Tiffany turned and walked towards the door. As she passed you, she gave you a long glance that was full of many emotions, but you saw that there was more than a little bit of admiration for you too. She reached up with her hand to gently caress your cheek as she walked by. You neither moved away or responded.

"You're pretty incredible yourself," she said coyly. "And I have to say I'm glad we're neighbors."

"See you later!" she called out, as she let the door close behind her.

You looked over at me. Not a word came to you. You had no idea what to say or do, and all you saw was that same confident smile. But you also saw that I was proud of you, that I was happy with what you had done, and very pleased to have you as my own.

After you just stood there for a moment, I put down my wine glass and opened my arms towards you. As you walked slowly to me, you took off your jacket, dropped it behind you, and kicked off your shoes. When you reached the couch, you looked down at me for a moment, our eyes both filled with emotion, before you let yourself fall into my arms.

We remained like that for a long time, not saying anything. Just letting the intensity of what we had just experienced sink in. Your mind was so full of a thousand emotions that you didn't even notice when you dropped off to sleep.

You woke up with a start a few hours later. Your apartment was completely dark and you were now in your bed. Apparently, I had picked you up and carried you there, and even tucked you under your covers. You turned quickly and reached over to see if I was next to you, but your bed was empty.

After gathering your thoughts for a moment, you got up and walked out of your bedroom, wondering if I was still there in your living room. But your apartment was empty. Empty and dark. Once again, I had left. "As mysteriously as he arrived," you thought to yourself, with the hint of a smile.

You walked over to the large windows that filled one side of your living room. You looked out on the lights of the city and thought about everything that was going on out there, and about everything that was going on in your own mind. You also thought about the possibilities you had not yet discovered, about what else might be waiting for you ... out there, and in your own head.

But, you had to admit that your thoughts were not very clear. You realized also that since I had arrived in your life, you had begun to ask yourself all sorts of questions. Strange questions that you could not yet begin to answer. Questions such as why you put up with what I had done to you that night.