Jen's partner Robert has always been a gentle and forgiving dominant, often indulging her whims and preferring to let her play her part rather than resort to harsh discipline or exploit her naturally trusting ways. But Jen's obedience has begun to slip, and Robert is forced to accept that a change is needed. To begin anew, he invites a fellow dominant and his submissive to dinner, thinking that their much stricter relationship might provide the eye opener he is loathe to inflict directly on his supposedly fragile submissive. Jen is excited at the prospect, but soon realizes that the evening will be far more intense than she is prepared for. As the night escalates, she will find herself torn between her natural reservations and the need to prove herself an equal of the visiting submissive in the eyes of their men. In shockingly little time, the drive to prove her devotion and obedience will have her doing things she never thought she could do … and still falling short.
I looked up. Unintentionally, my eyes flicked first to the man standing on the threshold. His face was dark and intelligent, and his cheeks were angular in a very becoming way. He wore an immaculate suit and a coat was folded over an arm. Quickly I looked away, knowing I had permission only to seek out my counterpart.
I followed the direction the man's hand indicated and took in a relatively small woman, perhaps a year younger than me. Her hair was dark and tied back, and a studded leather collar adorned her slender throat. She wore a tight, low-cut leather vest and white leather skirt. Her black stockings led down into three inch stilettos.
I gave her a small smile, thinking that it was my role to welcome her into the penthouse. She only returned my look with very large eyes and a meek expression that did not seem to acknowledge my existence.
"Show her into the dining room," Ewan instructed me. "Robert and I have some things to discuss in his office before dinner."
"Yes, sir," I said.
I turned and led her out of the entrance hall and around into the dining room. Her footsteps were small and clicked quietly on the hardwood floor.
I went to offer her a chair, but when I turned I saw that she had taken a kneeling position on the floor a few steps back from the chair I had offered her. Were we not allowed at the table?
A little taken aback, I watched her. She was sitting back on her heels with her eyes fixed on the floor in front of her. Her posture was stiffly erect and expectant, her chest was thrust out, and her hands were clasped behind her back.
Her behavior made me second-guess myself. I had assumed we would sit at the table, but now I didn't want to do anything out of turn. The point of this dinner was to learn, after all.
A little dubious, I walked over and lowered myself beside her. I did my best to imitate her position as well, but looking first at her and then back at myself I found that I couldn't entirely manage it.
"Have you and Ewan been together long?" I asked, feeling a little silly as we knelt together on the floor.
Joanna did not respond right away. She shifted slightly, still staring intently at the floor. "Master says it's wrong to talk to other submissives without his permission," she said.
"Oh, sorry," I said at a loss.
I cast a sidelong glance at her rigid form. Was this what was expected of me? Was this the standard I was going to be held to? I didn't really know what to make of it. She obviously took satisfaction in being this way, and I couldn't deny that it turned me on a little bit the way she Ewan controlled her, completely and unequivocally even in absentia. Would I be that way? Would I be able to be?
We waited in silence for maybe twenty minutes. I couldn't see a clock, but it felt like a very long time. Doubts surfaced, swirled, and then faded, only to rise again.