“I don’t loan my experienced subs out for intercourse or cuckold myself, Gemma. In the distant past when I fucked novices, I would share them with other men. Only I will use you vaginally and anally, no-one else. Loaning your mouth out for blow-jobs is at my discretion, but for the time being any sharing is off limits. You must never offer yourself to anyone, even in jest,” his tone was slightly menacing. I had found one area that I may not want to push him on and I was intent on leaving disciplining for the trivial matters.
Listening to Jason talk, I recognised that he was very experienced and was starting to sound like a ten year dominant. I had rarely had a partner with this level of knowledge.
“What now?” I looked expectantly at him. “Sir,” I added tardily.
He stood up and went to put the list back in the locked drawer. “Well I’m very keen to try out my new sub,” he towered over me more than ever. The effect was to make him look compelling, sterner and yes, I was thinking the cliché, masterful.
We stopped in the anteroom. “You leave your clothes here,” he pointed to the closet door. “I expect you to be naked in there unless I give other instructions or I have left other clothes for you to wear in the closet,”
“Get undressed, Gemma, then come in.” Jason went through into the other room leaving me to strip quickly.
A great deal of time had passed since I had been with a dominant. I took a deep breath and walked in. The door swung shut behind me, there was no locking mechanism on it, but there was one on the outside door, a self-locking Yale type. I stood waiting for my instructions. Jason was sitting on the divan facing the door. Elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped in front, fingers intertwined. He looked up taking my nudity in with slight smile of satisfaction.
“When I snap my fingers you will always come and stand a metre in front of me, head bowed eyes down. Understand?” He snapped his fingers and I quickly walked to stand before him.
“If I say down you kneel in front of me. Hands on your thighs with palms up, unless you’re menstruating then palms down. Legs apart for me to see your readiness,” Jason spoke clearly and sternly.
“Down!”
I squatted down on knees. He inspected me as if I was in a dog show.
“Good. This is the position you will adopt when I send you here, right here front of the divan like this. You may adjust your position if your legs go numb. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Rituals, protocols and rule: I had been given many variants in my time as a submissive. Sometimes protocols could be stringent, exacting and laid out in fine detail, while others had chosen to be in minimalist in their rules but always strictly enforced them. I ruminated on where Jason would sit on the spectrum and decided probably the latter. He had already pointed out he did not have time for the minutiae of controlling my life, so I expected he would prefer to focus his attention on a few pertinent rules. As he continued to speak and instruct me, I was finding the requirements made me sink into a place of contentment as if a swirl of thoughts had been drained out of me down an invisible plughole. My pleasant place of emptiness and calm was being rapidly established and with it came my sexual awakening.
“You will not come or masturbate at any time without my permission,” his voice exuded from his mouth like treacle with a sharp edge that made my blood rush.
“While we are in this room or in role elsewhere you will not speak to me unless I ask you a direct question. The exception to this rule is if you need to safe-word or beg for me to let you come.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We can use traffic light safe-words – red for stop, yellow for mercy - unless you have others you prefer?”
“Traffic lights are good for me, sir. I’ve used them in the past.” Along with many others. I had phases, in the past, of using silly words for safe-words. Not any longer, I took them very seriously.
“You will keep yourself clean, well prepared for me and be clear of pubic hair at all times.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Normally once in play you will do whatever I require. Due to your specific history, I as your dom, will always seek your consent before penetrating you. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir. I trust you.”
“I won’t use a cane on you or fuck you over the whipping bench. Don’t worry yourself about that.”
I felt myself unwind with a sense of huge relief.
His face remained unchanged, stern and aloof. “I fuck hard in here, if you want love-making, you’re not going to get it here understand? We keep that for the bedroom.”
“Yes, sir, I understand.”
I was a quivering wreck already, and he had not laid a finger on me. The whole control thing I found deeply arousing and comforting. I could let him take over and try to please him with my body.
“Are there any protocols you would like to incorporate? To help with your submission?” he asked.
“Um,” I thought for a few seconds and failed to come up with anything significant. “Nothing you haven’t covered, sir. Aftercare is important to me and I like to keep my hair tied back. Somebody once caught it in the ropes and it hurt like hell.”