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  I went to the front door and opened it.

  Cameron Wylde was a stunning young woman. She had a slim, athletic figure and long hair that looked more blonde than brown under the porch lights. She had dazzling blue eyes and a pretty face that was distorted just a little by a nervous smile. She stood on the front step in a short black dress that clung to the contours and swells of her figure like a second skin. She was clutching a small black purse in one hand… and she was shaking.

  “Cameron, I’m Jason Luke,” I said calmly. “So glad you could make it.”

  The smile shifted on her face and her eyes became enormous. She looked on the brink of tears, standing in the doorway like a timid forest animal on the verge of flight. I took her hand and felt the tremble of her fingers.

  “Hello,” her voice wavered and then gushed. “I can’t believe any of this is happening!”

  I smiled urbanely and then led her inside. Cameron stood in the small foyer uncertainly. Leticia came towards us taking small jerking steps. The women were about the same height with similar figures. They began to chat in stilted superficial conversation, each of them acutely nervous – each of them trying hard to overcome their anxieties. I tuned the conversation out and went to the bar. I poured myself a drink and then turned back to face the room.

  “Do you drink?” I asked Cameron. She nodded eagerly. “I do tonight!” she said.

  “What would you like?” I reached a hand under the bar. “Scotch, vodka, bourbon, gin…”

  “Yes,” she said with a nervous giggle. “All of them!”

  I poured her a scotch and carried it to her. She took the glass and drank like a thirsty man in a desert. I waited until the glow of the alcohol reached her cheeks and set a glistening sparkle to her eyes.

  “Are you wearing panties?” I asked casually.

  Cameron frowned for an instant as though she didn’t understand the question. “Yes…” she said after a pause.

  I nodded. “Take them off, please.”

  “What?”

  I kept my face impassive and my tone perfectly reasonable. “Take off your panties,” I repeated. “And hand them to me, please.”

  There was a long instant of utter silence. From the corner of my eye I could see Leticia turn so pale I thought she might faint. She had a look of shocked horror on her face.

  Cameron took a deep breath. She glanced at Leticia but then her eyes were drawn like magnets back to mine. I held out my hand.

  Cameron lowered her eyes, set down her glass. “Where can I…?” she started, glancing around her for doors that might lead to other rooms.

  “Right here,” I said simply. “And right now, please.”

  She took another breath and held it. Then she reached slowly beneath the hem of her dress and pulled down her panties. They were black lace. She handed them to me, her eyes still averted. I felt the moist, damp heat of them and could smell the heady musky scent of her arousal.

  “Thank you.” I tucked the panties into my pocket and then went back to the bar to refill Cameron’s glass. I heard Leticia make a gasp in the back of her throat that sounded like a stifled sigh of arousal.

  I handed Cameron a fresh drink and slid my arm casually around Leticia’s waist. I could feel her nervousness. She was breathing in short ragged gulps.

  Cameron’s eyes were locked boldly on mine and there was a look of wonder and fascination in her eyes. She sipped at her drink as though the alcohol would give her courage.

  “You’re the real deal, aren’t you,” she said softly.

  “Yes,” I replied. “Everything about me is real, except the name. Jason Luke is a pen name. Tonight you can call me Jonah. It will make things simpler, and tomorrow… if you decide to stay with us for a week… you will call me Sir.”

  We went into the dining room and Leticia and Cameron sat side by side. I stood across from them until a young woman in a starched white uniform set down plates. When she disappeared back into the kitchen I pulled Cameron’s panties from my pocket and set them in the middle of the table like a centerpiece.

  I sat down without a word. Both of the women were looking at the panties. Neither of them spoke. Cameron’s face was flushed crimson with a mixture of her embarrassment and arousal.

  We ate in silence and when we had all finished eating I pushed my plate aside and looked up, my gaze level and steady. Cameron seemed more relaxed and I attributed that to the effects of the alcohol. Leticia sat like a nervous schoolgirl, fidgeting in her chair. Every few seconds her eyes would dart back to the sexy pair of panties.

  “What would you like to ask?” I directed my attention to Cameron. “I’m sure you have lots of questions. I’m happy to answer them all.”

  Cameron thought for a moment, perhaps being careful how to address me. Finally she asked, “How did you become so confident with women? I mean… what makes you so assured of yourself?”

  I thought about that and tried to form an answer that I hoped would not sound arrogant.

  “I spent a lot of time talking to women,” I said carefully. “I loved them, listened to them… and then tried to put myself into their frame of mind – tried to imagine how touches and kisses would feel.”

  “And that’s it?”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t think it was a complicated question requiring a complex answer. Sexually, I think most women are easy to understand. Once you peel away the layers of their inhibitions and self-consciousness, they’re sexual beings with instincts only slightly different to men.”

  Cameron was nodding and frowning at the same time. “Have you ever failed with a woman? Failed to arouse her?”

  “Yes,” I said. “But I learn from those moments.” I thrust my hands deep into my pockets and paced across the kitchen. Cameron’s eyes followed me. Suddenly a thought occurred to me that I could use as explanation.

  “My father said I should learn to be a good loser,” I said around an ironic smile. “When I was younger I wanted to win – no matter what the cost. He tried to teach me the importance and value of losing… and how to accept such setbacks.”

  Then I shook my head.

  “I told him I didn’t want so much experience at losing that I became good at it. I didn’t want a life of constant failures just so I could become accustomed and accepting of losing. I wanted to be a good winner. That’s what I set out to be. In love, in life – in everything.”

  Cameron nodded slowly. There were elements of intrigue and fascination and curiosity in her gaze. She reached down and fidgeted with the clasp of her purse.

  “Anything else?”

  “Can I get your autograph?”

  Suddenly she had a paperback copy of ‘The Big Book of Rules about Sex and Women’ in her hand. She held it out to me.

  “Please.”

  I was bemused. I signed the inside cover of the book with a flourish and handed it back to her. Cameron’s smile was one of genuine appreciation. That smile gave me pause.

  There was no doubt that Cameron was submissive – a woman naturally inclined to surrender herself to the control of a Master. But she was clearly also a fan of Jason Luke. I needed to make the point clear to her.

  “We chose you because you expressed a genuine desire in your email to learn more about submission,” I said to Cameron. “Not because you are a fan of my writing. I 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 leaned back and raised her arms high. The dress came away and I let it fall to the floor at her feet. She was naked, her body warm and vibrant and alive. I made my gaze admiring, and she closed her eyes.

  “You’re stunning,” I said softly. I ran my hands over her shoulders, down her arms and then back up until I was cupping her breasts gently within my palms. She was tanned, her skin flawless. Cameron threw back her head and her hair cascaded like a shimmering wave. I teased out her nipples between my thumb and forefinger and then slid the palm of one hand slowly down the flat of her abdomen. I heard Cameron suck in a violent hiss of breath as my fingers reached towards her pussy.

  And then I stopped.

  “Unbuckle my belt,” I commanded.

  Cameron came back from the erotic distance she had drifted to, blinking her eyes like she was waking from a dream. Her hands went for my belt and I seized her wrists and stared into her eyes.

  “Slowly,” I said.

  She furrowed her brow and nodded her head. She unbuckled my pants and drew down the zip. I pulled her close to me so that my arms were around her back, fingers kneading the tight muscles of her shoulders.

  “Now stroke me,” I insisted.

  I felt Cameron’s hand lunge urgent and frantic within the opening of my pants, and then the wrap of her warm fingers around the length of my shaft. She had her head to one side and I kissed the exposed flesh of her neck. Her grip was too tight, her movements unskilled. She was enthusiastic but without the finesse I was accustomed to. I eased her back onto the bed, undressed, and then lay beside her.

  Cameron’s breathing was ragged, her whole body seeming to tremble to each touch. I could see the rise and fall of her breasts with each inhalation. I lowered my head to her breasts and sucked one of her nipples between my lips. Cameron’s back arched and then she went limp. Her legs fell wide open and I used one hand to caress the firm flesh of her abdomen, tracing lazy patterns across her body as my hand meandered lower and closer to the gap between her parted thighs.

  The first touch is crucial – most men are too direct, too unskilled and thoughtless to be aware of how sensitive an aroused woman’s body can be. They probe at a woman as though digging for gold. I do the opposite.

  My fingertips grazed across the jutting nub of Cameron’s clit – so fleeting and soft that she tried to follow my hand by lifting her hips off the bed. I kissed her, and used the tip of my tongue to trace soft circles across her lips – the same soft circles that I began to draw across the folds of her sex with my fingers. I was teasing her, mirroring the movements of my tongue to the caress of my fingers, overloading her senses to completely connect her body. As my tongue swirled within her mouth, my fingers swirled across her clit. As my tongue flickered within her mouth, my fingers pressed gently between the wet folds of her pussy. Cameron began to squirm on the bed, as though she were tied to the mattress and desperate to be free.

  I could feel the rising urgency in the way she hunted my mouth with hers and that same hunger was reflected in the bucking heave of her hips. She wanted my touch deep inside her. She was moaning. I drew my fingers from between her spread legs and offered them to her.

  “Suck,” I said. “I want you to know the taste of yourself.”

  Cameron sucked the slick wetness of her arousal from my fingers, her eyes screwed tightly shut, her tongue swirling. I slid my hand between her thighs again. One of my fingers dipped deeply within her and she shuddered. Her mouth fell wide open, her head turned to the side. I eased my finger from within her and then painted the taste of her wetness across her lips like lipstick.

  “And now I want to taste you,” I said. I kissed her then, and the delight of her juices flooded across my tongue. Cameron began to swoon. It was as if her body had turned soft as wax. She went limp within my arms, malleable and completely wanting.

  I slid down the bed, trailing wet kisses across her torso. “Reach behind you and take hold of the headboard,” I said softly. Cameron moved in a daze. I kissed the top of her thigh and inhaled the musky aroma of her desire.

  “Now close your eyes and relax,” I said. “Tell me what you like, and anything you don’t.”

  I flickered my tongue across her clit and suddenly Cameron went tense. She drew in a fierce deep breath of desire as though she were trying to suck all of the air from the room. I grazed the flat of my tongue across her clit and then gently – very gently – sucked the hard little nub between the soft drawing motion of my lips. Cameron clenched – the muscles in her body seizing as if she had been electrocuted. I felt her buck hard against my mouth and I began to hum a deep resonate sound in the back of my throat. Cameron’s body undulated, went limp, then tensed again. She thrashed her head from side to side, clenching her jaw and then crying out loud, “I’m coming!”

  Her orgasm was expl
osive – out of all proportion to the brief time I had been using my mouth on her pussy. Some men might attribute her powerful release to their amazing skill… but I knew better. Her orgasm had been the result of two days of erotic anticipation. I couldn’t lay claim to any great achievement. She had come with my aid, but not as any real result of my small effort.

  Cameron lay spent and panting. Her eyes were still closed, her body now limp. Her legs were splayed wide on the bed. I had the taste of her on my tongue and I licked my lips.

  When I slid back up the bed and kissed her again, I suddenly noticed Leticia sitting quietly on the chair. She had come silently into the bedroom and now she was leaning forward, perched on the very edge of the seat. Her knees were clamped tightly together, her hands trapped between her thighs. There was a misted glaze of lust in her gaze. We made eye contact for an instant, and then I deepened the kiss with Cameron deliberately.

  Cameron came back alive slowly, her arms languid as they reached up and wrapped around my neck. My hand cupped her breast possessively and when I broke the kiss at last her eyes flickered open, dreamy and contented.

  “Roll onto your side,” I said. “Leticia is here with us. I want you to look at her while I fuck you.”

  Cameron too had been oblivious to Leticia’s arrival. Her eyes blinked wide open and fluttered. I put a reassuring arm across her chest and kissed her again. “It’s okay,” I promised her. “Just do exactly as I tell you.”

  Cameron rolled onto her side, facing Leticia. I had positioned the chair opposite the head of the bed so the women would have direct eye contact.

  I slid myself close behind Cameron, my chest pressed to her back and our bodies spooned together. She lifted one leg slightly and I brushed the swollen head of my erection across the puffy aroused lips of her pussy. She pushed back willingly. I felt the first inch or two of my cock slide within her and I held perfectly still for almost a minute, allowing her body to adjust and enjoying the sensations as the tight grip of her muscles began to engulf me.