Amity's Stories
Journey into Submission - Part 3
©2000-2008 All Rights Reserved
TAKING
Touch
"Come to me," Claudia spoke clearly but softly.
Alain looked up from the carpet and caught her steely glare with his surprisingly
clear eyes. Even though his body rebelled at the idea of moving from the comfort
he had found, his mind propelled him toward the voice that beckoned him. Slowly,
he rose to his knees and almost without comprehending his movements, crawled
the few feet toward her chair.
She took his face in her hands and drew it toward her own.
"You are a sweet boy," she began, "and I will answer all of your
lunchtime questions now." She stared into his eyes and held them so strongly
that Alain felt unable to avert her gaze.
"You asked if you were 'just crazy,' and the answer is no, my sweet boy." Claudia
allowed his smile to cover his face and realized that she was smiling, too. "But
you are crazed."
His smile faded and his eyes welled with the threat of tears.
"Passion, my sweet boy, that's what crazes you." Claudia allowed her
words to soothe his soul before continuing. "You overflow with passion.
It can't seem to find a way out, until now. It's the dance, your dance." Alain
seemed unable to comprehend, but allowed his face to be drawn closer to her own
and seek comfort from the comforting power in which she enveloped him.
"You are unique," she continued after a few intense moments of silence. "You
pretend you control your passion, but it controls you."
Alain nodded after her words melted into his brain.
"Let me take your passion," she insisted but with a slight question, "let
me tear it from your soul and own it for a while. Let me take the burden of controlling
it off your shoulders for just a few minutes. Feel what it is like not to have
to wrap your 'self' in such tight control." Claudia paused while tears fell
from his eyes into her hands that still held his face inches from her own.
Bending her face toward his, she kissed his tears.
Wrapping her arms around him, she drew him into the chair with her and pressed
his face to her neck. The two sat there for time that had no measure as he
breathed warmly against her skin. Claudia inhaled his hair and drank in his
contentment while she allowed her tongue to dance against his balmy cheeks,
eyes, lips and chin. Alain's soft moan told her it was time.
Taking his wrist in her hand, she moved his fingers toward her throat.
"Touch me," she instructed, "allow your hand to be guided."
Slowly, she drew his hand toward her skin and encouraged him to feel her chest,
face, and neck and then moved cautiously toward her breasts. His tiny gasps
spurred her onward and she moved under her blouse, allowing him to discover
the soft leather that touched her skin. His fingers lay still, afraid to explore
on their own. With care coupled with intent, she drew his fingers under the
bustier and insisted they touch her breasts.
Alain gasped softly against her neck.
His hand refused to move without her guidance and she smiled as she pressed
his fingers into her with slightly more force. At last, his hands found their
own life and she kissed his tightly closed eyes gently. He explored as she
gripped his wrist and led him onward. Alain's rhythmic breathing warmed her
neck.
Slowly, she manipulated his hand and wrapped it around her own wrist.
"If my hand touches you where you are uncomfortable," she warned him
soothingly, "just pull my hand away. Do you understand?"
If his face hadn't been pressed so closely against her neck, she would never
had felt his nod.
Alain's face, wet with perspiration and tears, was her first goal. Her fingers
explored his forehead, eyes, cheeks, nose and lips, but she lingered on his
square jaw. Satisfied, she drew her fingers toward his neck and petted him,
before running her nails under the open collar of his shirt. Agonizingly slowly,
Claudia's fingers reached for the buttons and she was gratified he offered
no resistance. In fact, she believed she felt an almost indiscernible shift,
as he pressed closer to her fingers.
One button, then another. His shirt, drenched with sweat still warm to her
touch, was open to her exploration. Her fingers danced against his upper chest
and she traced the striations of his muscles with her nails.
As her fingers delved downward, he pressed against her hand. His chest was
strong and rose and fell with his now calm breathing. His skin was clear and
smooth. Lost in thought, she explored him, like an owner inspecting her beloved
new addition. As her hand dove deeper into his shirt, her fingers pressed against
his heart. Then her fingers walked a few inches down, and he surprised her
with a guttural groan that exploded against her neck.
Claudia waited for his hand, still wrapped tightly around her wrist, to pull
her hand from its exploration. Alain offered no resistance or did he attempt
to stop her. Instead, she felt him wrestle with himself inside the comfort
of her arms. As she rested her hand on the spot that caused his instinctive
outburst, Alain struggled to find his voice.
Finally, the words came.
"No, no, it's OK," he fought to speak clearly with his lips pressed
against her neck, "it's just that … that spot … that's where …" His
voice trailed off and Claudia waited until he could continue. She knew he would
continue.
"I can't explain it," he mumbled and stopped.
"I can," Claudia finished the thought for him. His head never moved
from her neck and his lips never left her skin.
"That's your passion," she said succinctly, "your energy lives
there." She felt his nod against her neck.
"Let me touch it," she spoke plainly. It was not a question. Alain's
face never moved from her neck except to deliver another tiny nod against her
skin.
With excruciating effort, she sat him upright and kissed his closed eyes. Then
quietly and quickly, she pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it behind
her onto the thick taupe carpet. His naked chest gleamed in the sunlight and
filled her eyes with a sense of stunning beauty and great pain.
Contact
The wide chair afforded her the access she wanted to Alain's chest while he
reclined gracefully against the fabric. His arms were at his sides and his
legs were unconsciously spread apart. With his head tilted back against the
chair, he was both physically comfortable and completely exposed to her journeying.
"Close your eyes, sweet boy," she suggested and Alain complied with
eagerness. His eyelids dropped and she was pleased he hadn't forced them shut.
His graceful movements reinforced his comfort with her and with what she was
about to do. Only his rapid breathing and heaving chest confirmed his trepidation.
Her hands danced as artfully on his skin as he had done on the carpet. Tracing
his muscles, circling his nipples, drawing invisible lines with her nails down
the length of his abdomen, Claudia greeted his skin with constrained excitement.
Her fingers gripped his nipples and twisted them gently, an action that evoked
a small moan from between his lips. As she grasped them tighter, his moans
increased and his body fell deeper into the chair.
Her exploration had a goal.
By now, Alain had been lifted into a place where his existence was defined
by her gentle touch and intermittent firmer clutches. His body was reactive
and as Claudia pulled his nipple, his back arched toward her, as if to comply
with her unspoken wishes. As she loosened her grip, his body knew that it was
time to relax into the chair. There silent communication deepened as Claudia
took ownership of his chest, save for one particular area.
Staring at his closed eyes and peaceful countenance, she positioned her fingers
a few inches above his waist, just below his heart and rib cage. With her free
hand, she rested her forearm against his square chin. Then, without warning,
she pressed her fingers into him with controlled strength, certainly not nearly
enough to cause pain.
She had something else on her mind.
Alain's back arched almost violently toward her and her arms, placed strategically
across his chin prevented his head from jerking forward suddenly and possibly
injuring his neck. His eyes shot open and his mouth fell.
"What?" was all he could manage and his uncomprehending eyes drank
in her reassuring smile.
"Energy," she began. "Passion. It lives … here," she
concluded as she pressed her fingers into the same spot and felt him tremble.
His brain couldn't comprehend her words, but his body, which he always trusted,
knew she was right. The idea of an emotion living in a certain spot seemed, well,
foreign to him, but Alain felt the explosion twice and had to succumb to that
reality.
"Would you like me to take you somewhere new?" she asked his perplexed
face.
The energy she had touched so overwhelmed him that all Alain could think about
was the need to touch it again. If she could bring him that amazing experience,
then there was really only one response to her question.
Unhesitatingly, he replied with the most plaintive, honest and passionate syllable
she could hope to hear. "Please," he uttered and the sound echoed
inside her head.
With that single word uttered in the depth of his passion, Claudia was undone.
Pas de deux
With a simple, "Stand up for me," she instructed and Alain struggled
to remove himself from the comfort of the chair. As he stood in front of her,
he realized that his slacks were the only barrier between his abject nakedness
and the woman who could help him answer his most profound and introspective
questions.
Claudia stood within inches of his perspiring skin and let her own jacket fall
to the floor. Face to face with her leather bustier against his naked chest,
Alain struggled to breathe steadily and not allow the enveloping headiness
to overcome him. Between them was air and intensity.
Reaching for his belt, she opened it and in a single motion, drew his pants
and underwear to his ankles. Responding to yet another of her unspoken commands,
he stepped out of them and the pair moved together to the center of the room.
Her face never moved more than two inches away from his own and her lips spoke
directly into his ears.
"Stand tall for me, sweet boy," she whispered and he drew himself erect
as if to please her with his posture. "Feel my fingers," she hissed
and touched his chest with both hands, counting on his obediently insuring that
his ear stayed within range of her mouth. "Relax your arms, let them hang
at your sides," she instructed into his brain and Alain felt his hands mentally
detach themselves from his wrists.
He felt nothing. He felt everything as long as he could hear her voice.
Claudia's words were pointed. "Step your legs apart," she pronounced
directly into his ear. Unconsciously, he slid them apart, as if offering his
vulnerability to her as a gift that she would cherish. "Close your eyes,
sweet boy," she demanded.
"Don't move at all," she finished and withdrew her mouth from his burning
ear. Had she provided yet another instruction, Alain felt he would have burst
with the energy he was drawing from within himself to comply. Naked and glistening
in the fading sunlight, Alain felt absolutely alone yet her presence invaded
all but one of his senses.
When her hands drew down his chest toward his waist, he almost shrieked from
sensory overload. Her touch electrified him and his back unconsciously thrust
forward toward her. Claudia drew herself away a few inches, as if challenging
his back to arch even more. Requiring her touch, totally immersed in needing
her voice, fully involved in insistence of her closeness, Alain's muscles screamed
at the effort he exerted to reach her yet he could not and would not allow
his feet to leave the place she positioned him. 'Don't move at all' rang in
his ears.
Circling him, she pressed her presence against him without touching his skin.
His head darted as if to find her with his sense of hearing because she had
stripped him of sight and touch. The fragrance she wore had already permeated
the room and his sense of smell was equally useless. Listening with the intensity
of decades of wanting and needing, Alain felt confusion flow from his shoulders.
He had a goal: to find Claudia and give himself to her.
Soundlessly, she stepped around him and enjoyed the sporadic trembles his body
experienced. Only after making a complete circle, Claudia allowed her eyes
to view his hips and legs. The power in them astounded her.
Her lips rediscovered his ear.
"Stand straight and tall," she demanded and although overcome with
the return of her voice, Alain snapped to attention. Her voice exploded in his
head, his chest filled with that mixture of pain and pleasure he had suffered
for so many years, and his hips began an uncontrollably subtle rocking that Claudia
noticed with rising passion.
He would dance for her. He had to dance for her.
After pushing him to a new height by running her fingers the length of his
calves and thighs, Claudia rested her palms so close to his erect cock that
Alain could feel her touch, even though their skin had not yet met. His hips
stirred and the tempo of her words intoxicated him with rhythm.
"Dance for me, sweet boy," she urged in his ear.
And then she touched his dripping cock with a warm grasp that forced an uncontrollable
moan from deep inside him. Her touch was gentle but firm and her fingers were
wet with him.
"Dance for me, sweet boy," she repeated in his burning ear.
Alain's senses could not take in another syllable of her yet she pressed more
words into his ear while her hands encased his organ.
"Dance for me, sweet boy," she exhorted into his brain.
Claudia's hands held his cock in their gentle but insistent grip as Alain fought
to obey her demand yet could not comprehend how he would do so as she held
him tightly in that single spot. Tears fell from his eyes and coursed down
his cheeks. Claudia leaned toward him and licked them away.
"Dance for me, sweet boy," she entreated yet again.
Her wet fingers took his shaft and slid up and down the stiff length as Alain's
brain ignited inside his head. Mercilessly, she stroked him almost casually
in stark contrast to the fire that burned inside him. His own desire betrayed
him as his own juices provided the means for her torture.
"Dance for me, sweet boy," her voice took on a demanding tone.
Alain's expelled a deep groan that hurt his throat as his body answered. With
his hips thrusting toward her and his back arching as if to deliver himself
into her hands, she caressed his drenched cock with commanding hands yet never
guided his body. The dance would come from him.
"Dance for me, sweet boy," she insisted.
And he did.
Alain felt the confusion slide off and be replaced with an odd sort of confidence
that spurred his arms and legs to what was natural for them. Dancing silently
and without taking a single step, he performed for her as she held him rooted
to a single spot on the carpet. Only his moans and groans broke the silence
that encircle them as the sun began to set over the ocean he could see from
her back deck, if only he could open his eyes.
Claudia allowed him to dance for her and when she felt his breathing quicken,
pulled him by his stiff organ to his knees. Flawlessly, gracefully, he followed
her as the two of them knelt silently. Her fingers left his cock and before
the sense of abandonment could fill him with dread, she pressed two drenched
fingers between his lips.
"Dance for me, sweet boy," she said plainly.
Sucking her fingers with an unbelievable sense of amazement, Alain arched his
back to her and offered his entire self to her as a gift. With the clearest
understanding, he reached for her, knowing she would take him when she wanted.
Undemanding yet insistent, Alain remained immobile, his entire body the submission
she desired. His head was clear and focused and for the first time in hours,
he could hear the gentle breeze float through the open doors behind him.
"I take what I want," she whispered and drew his face to hers.
Kissing his eyes, cheeks, lips and chin, she accepted his submission and returned
to him the clear knowledge that she valued what he gave.
With suddenness that staggered him, Alain felt his entire body shudder and
a wave of incomprehensible emotions churn from his legs into his chest. Shaking
almost uncontrollably, he knelt and trembled from its power. Claudia drew her
arms around him and pulled him to her.
Within the comfort of her arms, Alain shivered and shuddered in violent, but
undeniably dry, spasms. Feeling only the security of her arms, he sobbed from
exhilaration and exhaustion until he finally succumbed against her. Her warmth,
her fragrance, her strong touch and her power were palpable to him but her
voice was what he longed to hear.
Almost absentmindedly, she stroked his hair and whispered in his ear.
"You are my sweet boy," she murmured as she kissed away his tears. "And
I'm only beginning with you."