Page 25 of Interview With a Master (Interview With a Master 1)

“You intrigued me today,” she said softly. “The way you spoke in front of the apartment. It was all very mysterious.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t mean it to be,” I said. “It’s just that there are things you need to be shown so you can write the full story. Up until now I have told you about a couple of women from my distant past that helped shape my attitude towards the BDSM lifestyle. I figured now it was time to talk about my more recent past – and in order to do that, I need to show you a room.”

“A room?”

I nodded. “The one next to my bedroom upstairs.”

Leticia seemed to shiver. Her eyes were wide and unblinking. “Lead the way,” she said breathlessly.

* * *

I unlocked the door and pushed it open. Leticia stepped across the threshold, and the disappointment on her face and in her body language was almost comical. She turned back and looked a puzzled question at me.

“This is the room you wanted to show me?”

“Yes.”

It was a normal room, with an adjoining internal door that connected it to my own bedroom and a window set into the far wall. The room was sparsely furnished; there was an antique chest of drawers on one side, and an old dressing table next to it, with a large oval mirror. On the back wall – on either side of the window – were a couple of waist-high wooden shelves, and in the middle of the carpeted floor was a table and a chair.

The light in the ceiling was shaded, and there was a dimmer switch on the doorframe. I turned the dial to make the room a little brighter.

“This is it?” Leticia asked again.

“Yes,” I said simply.

She let the strap of her handbag slip from her shoulder and walked towards the table. She set the handbag down on the floor beside the chair and walked a slow circuit of the room, the sound of her footsteps the only noise in the house.

She went to the window and drew the drapes apart. There was a view that stretched back into the distant hills, but all she saw was darkness. She let the drapes fall back into place and turned.

“What makes this room so special?”

“It’s where I punish, discipline and train my submissives.”

Leticia almost chuckled. “You’re joking – right?”

I didn’t move. “Look at my face, Leticia. Do I look like I’m joking?”

I was deadly serious.

Leticia frowned. “I’m sorry, Jonah, but I… well I expected something totally different. I mean, you’re Jonah Noble, for heaven’s sake. Shouldn’t you have some dark gloomy dungeon in the basement, with whips and chains? Shouldn’t there be wicked looking torture devices and lots of leather harnesses – things like that? This room… well it looks so ordinary!”

“You still don’t get it, do you?”

She looked at me then, her expression confused and unsure. She threw her arms wide in a gesture of helplessness. “I guess I don’t,” she said softly. “But I want to.”

I stalked across the floor towards her, my steps light, my eyes never leaving hers. I felt my gaze smoldering and her expression changed subtly. Her eyes became wider, not with alarm but with awareness.

“It’s not the room that commands obedience. It’s not the props, or the décor. It’s not the fear of any piece of equipment that compels a submissive to obey, and nor is it the menace of any threat. It’s the man that a woman submits herself to, Leticia. Not the room.

“A good Master can be standing in a crowd or standing on a bright sunny beach. It shouldn’t matter. When he speaks, it is everything he stands for and represents that induces the woman to obey him. All the fancy props, all of the intimidating atmosphere in the world can’t make a good Master, and nor can it compel a woman to obedience. The man is all that matters.”

“So what is the point of this room?”

“As I said – it is where my submissives are trained and punished and learn discipline. It’s a working room, not some film set from a porn movie. It serves a practical purpose.”

She looked around the room again, trying to see it with fresh eyes. She went to the dressing table and pulled open the top drawer. There was a ball-gag, a dildo and a pair of handcuffs. That was all. In the lower drawers were several pieces of lingerie, and a riding crop.

“What is in the chest of drawers?” she asked politely.

“Rope and a collar.”

She reached into the drawer and removed the handcuffs. She set them on the dresser and the clatter of the steel was loud in the silence. She set the dildo beside the handcuffs, then pushed the drawer slowly closed. Leticia picked up the handcuffs and dangled them from the tip of one finger. She looked at me with a playful, provocative smile on her lips.

“Are these real?”

“Yes.”

She inspected the handcuffs carefully. “I’ve always wondered…” she confessed, and her voice trailed away.

“Wondered what? Exactly?”

She shrugged. “I’ve always wondered how it would feel to be handcuffed,” Leticia said. “The idea of being restrained like that kind of freaks me out, but it also fascinates me. Does that make sense?”

“It does.”

She tugged on the cuffs to test the links. “What is the difference between being handcuffed in front of your body and behind your body? Is there a difference?”

I nodded.

“I think there is. I always cuff new submissives in front of their body when we begin their training. It just gives them a little more assurance. Once the bond of trust between us builds, then I might cuff their hands behind their backs. It depends on what aspect of training I am focusing on.”

“There are different types of training for submissives?”

“Many,” I said. “Sometimes the session is about discipline and control. At other times it might be about obedience, or learning submissive positions. It all depends on the person, and where I feel they need to become more competent.”

Leticia’s eyes drifted back down to the cuffs. “Do you have the key to these?”

“Yes,” I said. “It’s in the bottom drawer.”

Leticia dug in the drawer and found the key. She unlocked the cuffs. “Can I try them on?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Can I hold the key?”

“Only if you don’t trust me.”

She thought about that. “Will you give me the key once you have handcuffed me?”

“Yes,” I said. “You can hold the key once the cuffs are fastened.”

I still hadn’t moved. I stood near the window and watched her, enjoying the lithe way she moved and the sway of her hips.

Leticia gave me a long speculative glance and then made her decision. She held out the cuffs and the key to me. I took them from her and fastened the handcuffs around her wrists. I held the small length of steel chain and raised her arms above her head. Leticia smiled, but it was edged with sudden nervousness. I felt her tremble.

“What are you doing?”

“This,” I said casually. I stepped close to her and lowered her cuffed arms over my head so they were wrapped around my neck and our bodies were pressed together. Leticia gasped.

I was standing within the circle of her arms. I smiled into her face and arched an eyebrow wickedly. I took the key to the handcuffs and held it up, close to her face.

“Open your mouth,” I ordered her softly.

“What for?” Leticia’s voice was wary with caution.

“So I can keep my promise,” I said smoothly. “I’m giving you back the key.”

Leticia’s eyes flicked from my face, down to the key between my fingers, and then urgently back to my face. She opened her mouth and gave a little nervous shudder.

I gently placed the key on her bottom lip. She closed her mouth to hold the key and stop it falling to the floor.

“See how easy it is, Leticia? Do you see what a good Master might do to you?” I asked. “Now you are handcuffed, and we’re standing so close together that I can feel your h

eart racing and see the hectic look in your eyes. I can reach out and undress you. I can unfasten every button on your blouse, and then unhook your bra. I could suck and lick your breasts until your nipples were hard, and then reach up underneath your skirt and explore the heat between your thighs. I could slide my fingers inside your panties and tease your clit until you were whimpering and weak – and there’s nothing you can do, nothing you can say. If you open your mouth, the key will fall to the floor. You’ll never be able to pick it up again.”

My voice as I spoke was like a soft caress, but Leticia’s eyes began to widen as the realization began to dawn on her and she understood at last how vulnerable she was: how exposed. Her panic was a shadow behind her eyes, flickering across her face like a little spark that threatened to catch fire and consume her.

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