Page 9 of In Love With a Master (Interview With a Master 2)

“Yes,” she answered obediently.

“Good girl,” I said again and then I took the harsh insistence from my tone and altered my voice so that it was smooth and seductive like changing music, changing mood. “Run your hand slowly down over your breasts,” I said. “Feel how hard your nipples are and then slide your fingers down across your abdomen until you are touching your pussy. I want to know if you are wet, Leticia. I want you to touch yourself and tell me how aroused you are.”

“Oh, God…”

I waited. I could hear soft breaths and then a gentle moan. Leticia’s voice was suddenly breathless. “I am,” she whispered. “I’m wet. Damn!”

“Touch your clit for me,” I insisted. “I want you more excited and more aroused than you have ever been. Keep the picture of me in your mind. Imagine me close behind you right now. Visualize my hand between your spread thighs. Imagine the touch of my fingers, and think about how hard my cock is. I want you, but I want you at that moment when your body craves me.”

There were several moments of short, sharp breathing. I pressed the receiver of the phone hard against my ear, trying to pick out individual gasps and moans.

“Jonah, I’m doing it,” Leticia’s husked. “I can feel you as though you are right behind me. God, this is intense… it feels real…” her voice broke off and then came back again as an urgent whisper. “I want you. Please…!”

“Good,” I sat upright in the chair and gave the phone my full attention. “I want to fuck you, Leticia. I want to bend you over that vanity and see your face watching us as I fill you with my cock and you moan until you come,” I growled with sudden spice. “I want to see the way you look at that breathless moment of rapture.”

Leticia went suddenly very silent. I frowned into the phone and then barked, “Play with yourself! Rub your pussy and make yourself come for me! Do it now!”

I heard a sound like sawing, a blend of movement and agitated breathing, rising and becoming louder and more frantic and elated. I imagined Leticia bent over the bathroom vanity, her eyes hooded, her face twisted in a rictus of ecstasy as her fingers moved faster and faster between her spread legs. I imagined her hips beginning to move, swaying and then thrusting until her thighs began to tremble, and her mouth fell open, lips parted as the breath hissed in her throat.

When I sensed the moment, my voice became demanding once more. “Come for me now!” I insisted. “And when you come, I want to hear you moan and scream loud enough so that all your neighbors will know you are pleasuring yourself with your fingers thrust deep inside your tight little pussy!”

I heard Leticia groan, as though the wicked eroticism of my command tipped her over the edge. I heard a sound in her throat like a great sigh of release followed by a loud cry, and then there was a deafening, crackling rattle followed by silence. I hung on the phone, waiting. A full minute went by before I heard Leticia’s voice again. “I’m sorry!” Leticia said. She sounded broken. “I… I had an orgasm, and then my legs went from under me and the phone fell on the bathroom floor.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes… I’m exhausted. I’m floating… and I can’t believe I am sitting here sprawled on the bathroom floor. My legs are still shaking.”

I got up out of the chair and went around to the far side of my desk. “Are you sure you are all right?”

“Yes,” Leticia whispered as though it were an obscene, guilty thrill. “Yes, I did. I screamed. Jesus, Jonah… that was the most intensely erotic moment of my life.”

“Good girl,” I soothed gently, and then – the performance over – I asked, “Now, do you still doubt that submitting to me with your mind and body will arouse you?”

“No,” Leticia sounded emphatic. “Jonah, you have made me a believer.”

Chapter 9.

Doctor De Niro was waiting for me the next morning. I was coming out of the kitchen when he caught my eye with a wave of his hand. He beckoned me to him, and I went to the room at the back of the house. The man was standing in the doorway. He ushered me inside and closed the door quietly behind him.

“Take a seat,” the doctor said.

I sat on the edge of the bed. There was a small desk set into one corner of the room, and the doctor went towards it. He slid open the drawer and took something in his hand. He turned back towards me, but rather than come closer, he perched himself on the corner of the desk, swinging one leg lazily.

“When I came here six weeks ago to treat you, I managed to get you onto an experimental drug program to control your headaches,” Dr. De Niro said.

I had noticed the different medication he had been prescribing me since his arrival but hadn’t commented. I didn’t know I was taking experimental medication.

“I didn’t know that,” I said.

The doctor nodded sagely and then arched an eyebrow.

“Does that piss you off?”

I shrugged. “No,” I said. “You’re the doctor.”

There was a moment of silence and the doctor coughed discreetly. “Have you had any headaches at all since I changed your medication?”

I shook my head, and then thought more carefully. “No…” I said slowly. “It has been a very traumatic time in my life. I certainly have had my dark days… but no headaches.”

The doctor nodded gravely. “I am sorry about Tiny. I have tried to stay out of your way and give you some space and time, but this can’t wait any longer,” he said. He opened his hand. “I am doubling your medication,” he explained. “I know there has been a lot of stress for you and I don’t want your condition to make the situation any worse, so I want you to start taking two of these magic, little tablets every morning.” The doctor slid off the edge of the desk and came towards me. He had a couple of small, white tablets in his hand.

I plucked the tablets from out of his palm, and frowned. “What exactly are you giving me?”

The doctor shrugged. “You want the medical name?”

I nodded. The doctor turned around and peered at the far wall for long seconds. I stared at the broad of his back and waited. “They are called nacsirmelbon.”

I blinked and then nodded slowly. “Okay… I’m sorry I asked,” I grinned.

The doctor turned back to face me, and his face became more gentle, more kindly and benevolent. He reached into his shirt pocket and handed me a small white slip of printed paper. “Your first scan,” he explained. “That card has all the appointment details. I’ve got you booked in at the clinic next week.”

I glanced down at the card, read the details, and then looked up. “The same clinic?”

“Yes, but a different specialist.”

“You’ll be there too?”

“Of course,” the doctor said. “I’ve even cancelled a round of golf.”

I arched one eyebrow like I was impressed. “I’m glad to see you are committed to your calling.”

Doctor De Niro sighed with a heavy nod, wryly acknowledging the gravity of his sacrifice, then changed the subject suddenly. He leaned closer and his manner became almost conspiratorial. “I heard a whisper that you might be dating that young reporter woman…”

I frowned. “Word travels fast.”

The doctor tapped the side of his nose like he knew, and that my secret was safe with him.

“How did you find that out?”

The doctor shrugged and his face became blank. He folded his arms. “I just heard,” he said evasively, “But if it’s true, then I think that’s a good thing. I think that’s a very good thing.”

I pushed myself off t

he edge of the bed and swallowed the two tablets he had given me. There was a vague peppermint taste in the back of my throat. I studied the man’s face carefully.

“So is this normal for a doctor?” I asked. “Are you in the habit of giving relationship advice to all your patients?”

For an instant, Dr. De Niro’s face stayed blank and impassive, and then suddenly he laughed. His eyes disappeared into narrow, squinting folds of flesh and his mouth opened wide. The sound of his laugh was a loud chortle. “Only patients like you,” he said pointedly, and then sighed. “Only the ones who need help the most.”

Chapter 10.

Leticia was on the phone when I arrived at her apartment just before ten in the morning. When she swung the door open she had the cell cradled to her neck and by the look of her expression, she wasn’t enjoying the call. She was speaking politely but there was strain in her voice. I guessed she was on the phone to her newspaper. I couldn’t hear what was being said on the other end of the conversation. Leticia gave me a brief smile, and then waved her hand in the air in a gesture I supposed was meant for the person on the other end of the line. She ushered me into the apartment.

“Can I use your bathroom?” I mouthed the words silently.

Leticia nodded – a distracted motion – and then said, “No, I understand that,” through clenched teeth into the phone.

I went down the short hallway to Leticia’s bathroom and closed the door behind me. I crossed to the vanity basin and stood there for a long moment, imagining once again the scene Leticia and I had played out on the phone the night before. The wall was an adjoining one to the apartment next door. I visualized Leticia crying out at the peak of her orgasm, and tried to imagine the look on the neighbor’s face through the thin divider as the sound echoed and reverberated.

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