The following story was written with help from a friend who wishes to remain anonymous. If there is enough interest shown, part 2 will given every consideration. All comments and feedback will be much appreciated. We hope you enjoy!
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This glossy, monthly magazineâs ratings must be falling, I thought to myself. The editor had asked me to be interviewed for an article they were considering, entitled, âDoms and subs, the Whys and Wherefores!â I had nothing planned for that day and it could turn out to be an amusing interlude, to say nothing of the exorbitant fee they were offering to pay for my services, so I agreed to the meeting.
Anonymity being required on both sides, I was to meet a lady whom I was to address as Spicey. In return, tongue in cheek, I told them that she would address me as Master! I could not help laughing at how seriously these people took themselves. They are primarily a magazine for the bored and pampered housewives of Canada. Whatâs in, whatâs out, what to be seen in and what not, a sort of rulebook for the female wannabe.
I carefully dressed in my favourite colour, which is Black. Black slacks, open necked shirt, everything, even down to my socks. Freshly showered and shaved, I headed out for our meeting and intentionally, I arrived a few minute late so I could get a good look at âSpicey.â I recognised her, almost immediately. She was sitting in a secluded area of the restaurant, nervously playing with a drink. She was dressed in a smart business type suit, which try as it might, could not contain her ample charms. Her legs encased in dark hosiery, were crossed at the knee and swinging, again showing signs of her tension. I approached the table and introduced myself,
âHello, you must be Spiceyâ I said in my deep baritone voice. She almost jumped out of her chair,
âUmmmmm Yes. You must be, Master?â She asked, blushing, at having to use this term, alien, as it is, to her lifestyle, âI am âSpiceyâ and have been sent to interview youâ This only heightened the embarrassment, at having to call herself Spicey.
âThen Spicey, you can order me a beer and we can beginâ I said, with a grin on my face. I wanted to judge her reaction to me telling her what to do and not to be disappointed, she said,
âLook Master, or whatever you call yourself, if you want a drink? Then get your own bloody drink! I am here, purely to obtain an interview, not to dance to your every command!â This was almost spat out, probably to disguise her embarrassment and to show that she was in charge of this interview and not me. I laughed at her over reaction and said,
âAh! A feisty lady! I like that in a woman. It can be more of a challenge, so to speak.â I ordered a drink from a passing waiter, looked into her angry blue eyes and quietly said,
âCan we begin now Spicey, my lady?â
âYesâ I responded nervously. He seemed to have made me a little uncomfortable and I tried not to let that show. I had a list of questions which I pulled out from my briefcase and glancing at it quickly, I made a quick decision to just start asking him them, there and then and see where it led us,
âSo how long have you felt that you have had to be the more dominant in a relationship? Does it give you a sense of power to call all the shots? Are you a full time Dom, like out in public, or is it more a closed door Dom? Are you Master of more than one slave and if you are, do they know about one another? What kind of things do you command of your slave? And what form of punishment do you give them, if you are not obeyed?â
I threw out all these questions at him, my eyes watching his face for any signs that he didnât like my line of questioning. He had a funny kind of smirk on his face and I was left trying to figure out what those smouldering eyes were telling me. It was leaving a tingling feeling in my belly, a sense of excitement that I couldnât quite explain., so I sat back in my chair, took a small sip of my water and waited for him to respond.
I sensed her unease at having to ask me these questions and I could see the nervousness at being in my presence was causing her some concern. She was trying so hard to remain professional, but I knew, that even just asking me these questions, was getting her interested in my lifestyle.
âWell Spicey, So many questions? And there are so many different answers.â I replied, not making it any easier for her. âWhere do I begin? In answer to your first question, I have always felt that I would like to be dominant in a relationship. To have the lady of my choice accept me for what I am. To enjoy me taking charge when we make Love, to let me do anything I want with her, but, be happy doing it. Knowing, that what she does, is giving me pleasure and ultimately, giving her pleasure also. Does that make any sense to you, a career woman, who is used to equality in her work?â I watched as her eyes narrowed and she was about to answer me.
âWait Spicey! I will continue with my answers to your questions. A sense of power, you ask? In a way, yes it is. In the house, behind closed doors, then, yes again, but not in public. If I require my sub to be naked at all times, then, she will be. If I require that she pleasures me, when I demand it, then, she will do. In saying that however, we also will have a room, the kitchen perhaps? Where, we are equals and can discuss things. She will have every right to complain about my treatment of her and we will discuss everyday things, like any normal couple would. In my personal role as her Dom, it is on an equal footing, except when we adopt the lifestyle. I do not want a slave, a doormat or a tramp and I am also there to protect her natural desire to be submissive. She has to trust that I will do that, know that I will look after her. She will, of course, show her gratitude to me, by obeying me in the sexual side of things.
That is bringing us onto your next question, that of punishment. Sometimes a sub will deliberately do something to upset her Dom, just to experience his displeasure, because she craves pain, or to show Him that she trusts Him not to hurt her, too much. I do not like punishing my sub; I will do this by withholding her pleasure, I will tease her mercilessly and not allow her to climax and that is as much a punishment to her, as a flogging might be to another. Occasionally, I will administer pegs to her breasts, but, she knows that I will not leave them on for long. When I finally remove them and suck on her tender flesh, she almost cumms immediatelyâ
I laughed evilly at the reaction to my answers. I could tell that, to her own discomfort, she was becoming aroused by my answers, wondering if she could be a sub. Wondering, what could make her trust someone, so much, that she would willingly do his bidding? I looked deeply into her eyes and awaited her next move in this game we were playing.
I found myself getting, both excited and uneasy in this interview. Not sure whether to just jump in or to continue probing for answers to questions that I didnât know how to ask. He looked like a normal average guy, but he was turning me on and I sensed an inner excitement. I could feel my nipples getting hard against my bra and could feel a moistness forming between my legs. Wondering if this was how all women felt in his presence, wondering if I were someone that he would want to dominate. I wasnât sure what to ask next or how to continue, so I asked for a fresh glass of water to try to calm myself down, to collect my thoughts and to stop my rampant mind. He left the room to get it and I stood up and rearranged my clothes. On hearing him coming back, I sat down quickly which caused my skirt to ride up and expose the upper portion of my thighs. Damn I thought, what will he think, that I am trying to come on to him? He handed me the glass and had a twinkle in his roving eyes.
Returning to our table with her glass of water, I spotted that she had hastily adjusted her clothes and sat down again. I smiled inwardly and wondered if she was deliberately showing me more of her thighs, or if it was a pure accident. I also took in quickly that she was wearing stockings, as I could now see the tops, but mostly, however, the tablecloth hid her from the view of the other customers. I could see her blush as my eyes absorbed all of this while passing her the glass and I swear she almost dropped it in her confusion.
âWell Spicey, does that explain a little about me and the Dom/sub relationship? Or should I proceed further?â I asked, still with a gleam in my eye.
âMaster, if you would care to continue, I am finding this most fascinatingâ She replied, obviously still uneasy at having to call me Master and trying to hide her embarrassment at, dare I believe it, becoming a little aroused? She kept her eyes averted and fiddled with her notebook.
âSpicey!â I almost barked and she instantly looked up into my eyes,
âWhen we chat, please pay attention and look at me at all times.â I said more quietly, but I could see a look of fright pass briefly over her face, as she realised that she had almost answered me with a, âYes Sir!â
âThat is better Spicey; I like to know that I have your attentionâ I continued chatting and telling her about my theory that certain women, in positions of responsibility, liked to give up their every day dominance and become submissive to the right man and I could see her blush deepen further. Had I found an Achilles Heel in this Spicey lady? Was she beginning to pay more than a passing interest in this interview? I thought that I would test her out and leaning forward, I placed a hand on her very hot knee and whispered,