need you to understand that. This isn’t like some private author event – it’s an opportunity to learn more about the BDSM lifestyle.”
Cameron nodded. She looked almost apologetic.
“I do understand that,” she said.
“Good. Then do you have any questions about what being exposed to submissive training might include?”
Cameron shook her head. “No questions,” she said, “but there are things I am uncomfortable with.” She looked then to Leticia as though only another woman would understand.
“Of course,” I said. “Naturally every one of your limits will be respected. At no time will there be any pain – it’s not my style. And as for the other aspects of your training that you are unwilling to engage in, you need only to list them.”
We talked for another hour, discussing the training, and chatting candidly at last about Leticia’s insistence on watching. We discussed safe words and accommodation. Cameron would stay the night in the bungalow before we made a decision about whether she would go back to the hotel or remain with us for the duration of her stay.
When I glanced at the clock again it was almost 9pm.
We were alone in the house. The caterers had left hours ago. I reached suddenly for Cameron’s hand and she stood nervously from the dinner table like I was inviting her to dance.
Leticia’s face became pale. She gnawed on her lip as she stared. There was a glazed cast to her eyes – almost like an expression of pure hunger and anticipation. She sensed the moment had finally arrived and now she was breathless with her exhilaration and sheer panic.
“Leticia, I’m going to take Cameron down to the bungalow,” I announced calmly. I slid my arm possessively around Cameron’s narrow waist and then moved my fingers up until they were cupping one of her breasts. “Then I’m going to undress her and take her to bed. I’d like you to follow us in about twenty minutes.”
Leticia nodded numbly.
I led Cameron out through the doors and into the star-filled night.
* * *
When we arrived at the bungalow, I left the front door unlocked for Leticia and went straight to the bedroom. There was a chair set in place beside the bed. I flicked on a lamp and the soft golden glow painted the walls with intimate atmosphere. Cameron stood in the doorway, nervous and pale.
“Come to me,” I said softly.
She came towards the bed taking the short jerking steps of a bride on her way to the altar. I wrapped her in my arms and kissed her fiercely. Cameron’s mouth opened wide, meeting the fierce press of my lips, and then I felt the fluttering flicker of her tongue. She was breathing deeply, making soft mewling sounds in the back of her throat. I could feel the press of her breasts against my chest. I slid my arms down until my hands were at her hips and then broke the kiss when I felt her body begin to melt and mold itself against me.
“Is this normal?” Cameron’s voice was quavering. Her eyes were wide and glazed, her lips inflamed from the passion of the kiss.
“Nothing about training a submissive is normal,” I assured her. “There is no instruction book – no manual. Each woman is different, each situation unique. If you expected handcuffs and paddles tonight, I am afraid you might be disappointed. This evening is a chance for me to explore your body and to learn more about the triggers that arouse you. Tomorrow – once some of your inhibitions have been shed and we are comfortable with each other – the training will begin.”
That seemed an adequate explanation. Impulsively Cameron lifted herself onto tiptoes and kissed me again. I felt her hands around my neck and I delighted in the taste of her, the feel of her body and the scent of her desire. She lunged forward with her hips and then groaned into my mouth.
My hand found the hem of her dress and I tugged at it, exploring the firm toned flesh of her thigh with my fingers. I tugged the dress up over her hips and she
Cameron nodded. She looked almost apologetic.
“I do understand that,” she said.
“Good. Then do you have any questions about what being exposed to submissive training might include?”
Cameron shook her head. “No questions,” she said, “but there are things I am uncomfortable with.” She looked then to Leticia as though only another woman would understand.
“Of course,” I said. “Naturally every one of your limits will be respected. At no time will there be any pain – it’s not my style. And as for the other aspects of your training that you are unwilling to engage in, you need only to list them.”
We talked for another hour, discussing the training, and chatting candidly at last about Leticia’s insistence on watching. We discussed safe words and accommodation. Cameron would stay the night in the bungalow before we made a decision about whether she would go back to the hotel or remain with us for the duration of her stay.
When I glanced at the clock again it was almost 9pm.
We were alone in the house. The caterers had left hours ago. I reached suddenly for Cameron’s hand and she stood nervously from the dinner table like I was inviting her to dance.
Leticia’s face became pale. She gnawed on her lip as she stared. There was a glazed cast to her eyes – almost like an expression of pure hunger and anticipation. She sensed the moment had finally arrived and now she was breathless with her exhilaration and sheer panic.
“Leticia, I’m going to take Cameron down to the bungalow,” I announced calmly. I slid my arm possessively around Cameron’s narrow waist and then moved my fingers up until they were cupping one of her breasts. “Then I’m going to undress her and take her to bed. I’d like you to follow us in about twenty minutes.”
Leticia nodded numbly.
I led Cameron out through the doors and into the star-filled night.
* * *
When we arrived at the bungalow, I left the front door unlocked for Leticia and went straight to the bedroom. There was a chair set in place beside the bed. I flicked on a lamp and the soft golden glow painted the walls with intimate atmosphere. Cameron stood in the doorway, nervous and pale.
“Come to me,” I said softly.
She came towards the bed taking the short jerking steps of a bride on her way to the altar. I wrapped her in my arms and kissed her fiercely. Cameron’s mouth opened wide, meeting the fierce press of my lips, and then I felt the fluttering flicker of her tongue. She was breathing deeply, making soft mewling sounds in the back of her throat. I could feel the press of her breasts against my chest. I slid my arms down until my hands were at her hips and then broke the kiss when I felt her body begin to melt and mold itself against me.
“Is this normal?” Cameron’s voice was quavering. Her eyes were wide and glazed, her lips inflamed from the passion of the kiss.
“Nothing about training a submissive is normal,” I assured her. “There is no instruction book – no manual. Each woman is different, each situation unique. If you expected handcuffs and paddles tonight, I am afraid you might be disappointed. This evening is a chance for me to explore your body and to learn more about the triggers that arouse you. Tomorrow – once some of your inhibitions have been shed and we are comfortable with each other – the training will begin.”
That seemed an adequate explanation. Impulsively Cameron lifted herself onto tiptoes and kissed me again. I felt her hands around my neck and I delighted in the taste of her, the feel of her body and the scent of her desire. She lunged forward with her hips and then groaned into my mouth.
My hand found the hem of her dress and I tugged at it, exploring the firm toned flesh of her thigh with my fingers. I tugged the dress up over her hips and she
Similar Books
