A Sense of Submission

Saliva filled my mouth and I swallowed hard. I nudged between her legs now wanting to taste her but she lifted her skirt and held me still.

I looked up into her triumphant eyes and she raised a quizzical eyebrow.

In a searing moment of clarity I saw the insanity of what I was doing but I could no more prevent myself than stop breathing. I sold what was left of my pride and whispered.

"May I?"

"Be my guest."

There was no finesse. She shrieked with laughter as I fell upon her sealing my mouth to her sex and pressing my tongue deep inside. I was rewarded with a surge of pent up arousal and I sucked upon her ravenously.

Within seconds my own sex began to leak as, somewhere deep inside, switches were being thrown and my mind and body found a new configuration. It felt so natural as if, for years, I had been misaligned.

Once again her arousal was stoking mine in a symbiosis that I had never felt with a male partner.

It did not take her long to reach a climax but she did a good job of disguising it from the others. I was dimly aware of their conversation and occasional laughter but Erin wanted my total concentration as she shepherded me towards her clitoris.

The second was a far more protracted affair as, even as I employed all of my new found skills, she was determined to savour the moment. My face and her thighs were wet with perspiration before she finally melted into another orgasm.

She dismissed me with a deep, satisfied, sigh and I was immediately beset by a flush of embarrassment. How had a business meeting degenerated into this and how was I to extricate myself?

I came out from under the table and, without meeting their eyes, I used a napkin to tidy myself up as best I could. When I was done I reached for my wine glass and drained the remaining contents in one gulp.

I decided that the best, and only, option was to get up and leave without another word. They could laugh about it amongst themselves but I did not have to see any of them ever again.

Not trusting my own judgement I looked towards Nalini hoping to gauge the atmosphere in the room but her expression was inscrutable. May broke the awkward silence.

"She seems to find you particularly fascinating Nalini. Would you like to use her?"

It took an instant for me to process the implications of what had been saidbut my sex seemed to react more quickly than my mind. I felt a swathe of heat, centred between my legs, spreading out across my whole body.

Nalini looked me up and down dismissively, keeping me off balance, and then stood up.

"I think I will."

As if it were the most natural thing in the world she stood up, kicked off her shoes, and began to unfasten her designer jeans. With my heart racing I watched as she eased the black denim free then proceeded to remove her panties.

I guessed that she was touching thirty but she had the body of a catwalk model. She sat back down again and nonchalantly hooked her long legs over the arms of the chair.

Her casual wantonness almost made me climax on the spot and when she wordlessly gestured for me to approach I literally felt weak at the knees.

I took my place between her legs and saw that the motif of shorn hair was repeated on her pubis but here it had been immaculately shaved into a representation of a labrys with the short handle pointing the way down to her sex.

I had taken a Medieval Studies module at university and so its symbolism, and the current usage, was not lost on me.

Her skin was the colour of rich honey but her labia were darker still. They stood proud of her cleft like a pair of open wings and they gradually shaded to an inviting pinkness.

Almost reverentially I took each in turn between my own lips and licked at the fringes but even here there was a foretaste of what was to come. In truth the taste was familiar and exciting but in my mind I imbued it with a subtle exoticism.

She did not hurry me and it was a long time before I relinquished this particular treat and then began a deeper survey. She was incredibly relaxed and I eased inside her effortlessly to lick the syrupy offering from the walls of her sex.

Even knowing that I was being watched I felt curiously contented the only problem being an ever stronger need to do something about my own state of arousal. As things stood my panties were going to be beyond redemption.

I felt as if we were conjoined. Her labia clung at my face as I stretched my tongue to its limit but now she wanted something more. Sensing her requirement I refocused my attention at the apex of her sex and here lay a fresh discovery.

Her clitoris had unveiled itself and it was beyond anything that I had ever imagined. Any fisherman lucky enough to find a pearl this large could have retired with assured riches. I could feel its firm roundness as I used the flat of my tongue and she began to purr with pleasure.

I became totally lost in her. The others were forgotten and time was of no consequence as I continued the act of veneration. There was a simple, blissful, relief from all my worldly cares.

I fell into an easy rhythm, licking in a lazy figure of eight, and she touched the top of my head in a silent command to carry on exactly as I was.

The result was a climax almost as majestic as she was. She stayed totally in control of herself regulating the ebb and flow until the very end when my face was baptized with gouts of warm moisture which dampened my hair and ran down to soak my blouse.

When it was over she gracefully unwound her legs but my work was not finished. I preened her legs and her sex cleaning her of all residue even whilst her offering was drying on my skin.

She got up from the seat and coolly put her clothes back on leaving me kneeling on the floor. My tongue was tired and my jaw was in danger of cramping but there was one more task to complete and, to my own surprise, I was both prepared and expectant.

I turned to May with a renewed yearning but she smiled indulgently.

"You have to learn that the cruellest twist of all...is denial."

With that, and without another word, all three of them left the room.

Chapter Five

The formal offer was couriered to me the following day. The advance was eye-watering but the first draft had to be completed within six months in order to tap the interest generated by the original articles.

In a side letter May said that she wanted more in the same vein. She was not looking for any attempt at professional analysis she simply wanted my thoughts, impressions and conclusions. She left it up to me whether or not I wanted to make it a first person narrative but strongly hinted that she wanted the board room episode included.

From my standpoint there were two stories to be told. One was the recognition that I had been evading and denying my true sexuality. This was the easy part. The second was the fulfilment that I had found in adopting a submissive role.

The fact was that I was seriously troubled. I could see myself living a perfectly normal life with another woman but could I suppress this new need I had found within myself?

My immediate reaction was to fix myself up a couple of normal dates to try and give myself some sort of benchmark. To this end I signed up with a lesbian dating site but I found that it was fraught with many of the same difficulties that I had encountered with men.

The women I met up with were just not my type; they were not people I would readily befriend let alone anything beyond that.

My next attempt was to try a couple of lesbian clubs, including one that was bdsm themed, but whilst I found some of the women, especially those of a dominant persuasion, very attractive I could not fully engage with what was going on.

The only good thing to come out of it was the material it provided but, at this stage, the book had no coherence. All of my instincts were telling me to go back to where it all started, to speak to Jessica again, but this was now my story and not hers.

It was then, out of the blue, that I received a totally unexpected phone call. Evelyn called to confirm that she had received her payment and to thank me once again for the commission. She went on to ask me if I would care to join her for a celebratory meal.

I accepted but I put the phone down with very mixed feelings. I waited for her the following evening in the bar at "Chez Alec" being the most bohemian restaurant I could think of. She arrived ten minutes late but she entered the restaurant like a force of nature.

She wore a dress that displayed her curves to the utmost not least her impressive décolletage. She wore her hair up, which helped to tame it a little, and she had applied very minimal make-up.

I was not the only one staring at her impressive legs as she sashayed across to hug me effusively.

With one or two obvious considerations I felt very easy in her company and it was a number of hours later before we got up to leave. I expected her to ask me back and a part of me was hoping for a repeat of what had gone before.

Much to my surprise she kissed me primly on the cheek, with no hint of our former intimacy, and said very simply.

"I'd like to see you again."

As she departed in a taxi I felt like a teenager. The prospect of a second 'date' had me stupidly excited.

In the next few weeks we met up six times and not once did she come on to me. It was an old fashioned courtship, a slow getting to know one another, and I loved it. Our partings left me as frustrated as hell but I did not want to force the pace.

Finally, after a night spent at a new gallery opening, she invited me back to her studio. I expected coffee but she led me by the hand to her sumptuously appointed bedroom. She had me stand beside her beautifully carved four-poster and then she slowly began to undress me as if I were a precious gift.

As each article of clothing was removed she stroked my skin and as she knelt to remove my panties I thought my legs were going to buckle.

She eased me back onto the richly quilted bed cover and then undressed herself. I held my breath as her magnificent body was teasingly revealed but then she surprised me as she put on a short satin night dress.

She smiled when she saw my disappointment but she came and laid down next to me.

"Tonight it's all about you."

She rose over me and touched her lips to mine. For a few seconds we just breathed one another but then she brought our mouths together and I felt the tip of her tongue reaching out.

The overall impression was one of wonderful softness. I had always enjoyed kissing but now knew that I had never really experienced it. There was no imperative to bring things to the next stage it was just a long languid enjoyment of one another, our tongues dancing together as if we had known each other all our lives.

I became so absorbed that I initially failed to notice as she began to stroke my shoulder before her hand found its way to my breast. At first she grazed with just her fingertips before more boldly testing its shape and form.

This was not the clumsy fumbling that I was used to. The artist in her had an appreciation of the feminine contours whilst the woman understood the sensations she could engender.

My nipples became engorged long before she touched them and when she did it was with a feather-light caress seeking out the boundaries and discovering how I reacted.

I loved being stroked in this way but I had never considered someone with such finesse. It was an age before she brought her thumbs into play and began to gently pinch and my sex felt as if a direct connection had been forged.

I was seeping and I was eager for her to venture downwards but she had other ideas. She took my nipple between her lips and her tongue flitted over the tip as she gently sucked. I felt a lurch in the pit of my stomach and with it the comprehension that she was inexorably driving me towards the edge.

Despairing of any man I had tried so many times to bring myself to orgasm this way but always grew impatient and thought it was a myth. Now she was dispelling it. Her tongue circled the whole of my nipple and then came back to the teat at irregular intervals whilst her fingers worked a similar magic on my other breast.

Getting hotter by the second and I had to fight the urge to fidget, not wanting to do anything that would disturb the equilibrium. I was teetering and when, finally, she gently nipped me with her teeth and applied a correspondingly dull pressure with her thumb and finger it was the trigger I sought.

It was not a tsunami but more a series of heavy waves each in turn bearing me up to be held still and then released only to be raised even higher. It was wonderful in itself but it most certainly left me wanting more.

I had the impression that Evelyn could have produced an even stronger reaction had she wished but she had only painted the first strokes.

I sighed as she repositioned herself but then stiffened in expectation as she kissed a trail down towards my navel. It is deep set and I have always been conscious of it, fearing that it suggestive of a bigger belly, but she began to lavish attention as if it were a mystical cave.

I had never thought of it as an erogenous zone but her delicate exploration was already rekindling the waves of pleasure which, I thought, had ebbed entirely. She worked purposefully and only gradually did I appreciate that she was telling me with her tongue what was to come.

With this understanding I shifted my hips wanting her to fulfil her promise but she stayed as she was forcing me to relax and be patient. When she deigned to move it was at a glacial pace, kissing as she went, whilst all the time her knowing hands continued to trace and titillate the outline of my body.

By the time she reached my thighs they were sheened in perspiration and she licked them lasciviously with the flat of her tongue.

She was almost driving me insane with need but still made me wait before she assayed the delta of my sex. She ran her finger lightly along the fringes of my swollen labia and then sucked on it appreciatively. The look on her face as she closed her eyes was one of pure lust and I groaned in anticipation.

She replaced her finger with her tongue and her touch was lighter still but it was enough to make my sex ooze. Still not to be hurried she continued to lick as if imprinting every detail in her memory.

My head was clear of all thought except of her and her devoted attention. When she sealed her mouth to my sex and her tongue worked its spell inside me I was actually crying tears of joy.

I could not hold back my second orgasm nor did she attempt to deny me. She read every nuance, increasing the depth of penetration each time I was buoyed up and then relaxing a little as I paused before restarting the ascent.

I could feel myself squeezing hard against her tongue but she showed no distress. She stayed with me until the dam broke and I felt a heavenly flooding release.

She continued to lick and swallow for the whole time that it took me to recover and I feared that I would exhaust her but I had underestimated her determination.

She resumed her ministrations of my labia which, if anything, were feeling even more sensitive. My whole body was quickly stirred and, whilst I would not have thought it possible, I sensed that there was better yet to come.

Over the next few minutes, little by little, she changed the point of concentration until she was centred on the crown of my sex. She licked in tightening circles and my clitoris engorged in response.

I was almost panting with desire but still she avoided the gem itself. It was becoming ever more difficult to resist the impulse to use my fingers to open myself up to her but I forced myself to calm down.

The reward, when at last it came , was almost beyond words. I was acutely aware of every subtle change as she varied the degree of contact and pace in her quest to understand my innermost need.

In so doing she removed any element of doubt. There was no fear of being rushed or left disappointed as so often in the past. She was perfectly in tune with me reading the rhythms of my body and bringing me to a perfect pitch.

As I reached orgasm she helped me to retain control, to measure and enjoy each ecstatic increment until my body reached an undreamed of nirvana. I wanted to hold myself there forever but my inner strength finally failed me and I slumped in a state of delicious exhaustion.

I felt very guilty when I found that I had fallen asleep. The room was much darker and I had been covered up but I barely had time to orientate myself before I felt a nuzzling form beneath the quilt and the pure delight of a tireless tongue...

Chapter Six

The following morning I tried to apologise but Evelyn was having none of it. I hoped that we could fix another date, and very soon, but I was to be disheartened. She told me that I had to finish the book and, when it was done, she would be there for me if that was what I wanted.

I managed to leave her studio before the tears started but in reality I was more confused than ever. After all that she had given was she suggesting that, in order to be with her, I would have to accede to her dominant trait?

On the journey home I knew that the previous night had, in some way, been a pivotal moment and the understanding of it was the key to completion of the book.

Sitting at my desk I randomly wrote down all of my thoughts and impressions as well as the questions I was asking of myself. It formed a long untidy list but somewhere in it I caught a glimpse of something. I put it to one side hoping that it would reveal itself if I left it alone for a day or two.

Towards the weekend I received a call from May. I told her, a little untruthfully, that the bulk of the book was prepared but that was not her reason for contacting me. She told me that she had a release from the magazine for the Jessica material but her personal approval was also needed.

I assumed that her legal people would deal with it but May told me that these things went a lot more smoothly when conducted informally. To that end she wanted me to fix up a meeting with Jessica.

I had broached the topic with Jessica at the outset and she seemed enthusiastic about the project and looked forward to an extended reappraisal of our sessions together. Now, when I told her that the publisher wished to meet, her interest was piqued.

In keeping with her wish to keep things on a casual basis May asked if we could meet at Jessica's house. I fixed the meeting for eight p.m. but when I arrived May was already there and the pair of them seemed to be getting along just fine.

Jessica poured wine and the formalities were tied up quickly. I have to say that I was impressed with the way that May handled the negotiations. She was slick, confident, and a world away from the woman I knew previously. She even broached the possibility of Jessica producing a book of her own, an idea that left me with very mixed feelings.

It felt more than a little odd to be sitting there, holding a normal conversation, with two women who had seen me abase myself in quite the way that I had. May even went to lengths to flatter me.

"You write so well. The third person narrative you've employed gives no hint that you were actually the victim. You were the victim, right? You've allowed the reader to put themselves in the place of either participant with equal facility."

There seemed little point in denying it. At heart I wanted this to be a serious study, that's why I had gone along with the pain that Jessica had inflicted on me, but I was no fool. Conveying an understanding was one thing but it was the inherent titillation that would ultimately sell the book.

May brought me back to reality when she leaned forward eagerly.