show…”
“No. Saturday night. Take it or leave it.”
She hesitated like she was considering the offer, but I knew she wasn’t. She was playing games.
“Okay,” she sighed at last. “I guess I can wait until then. Do you want me to choose the restaurant… since you’re new in town?”
I felt the shock of her words jump down my nerves and jerk them tight. “How did you know that?” I hissed the accusation. “How do you know I haven’t lived in Boston all my life?”
Sondra went quiet on the phone and behind my eyes flashed a mental image of young Cindy being discovered in the bathroom with Grover – that sense of sudden horrified guilt she must have felt at being caught out. I pictured her young face flushing with angry color as she stammered to explain.
“Well…? Do I know you?”
“Maybe,” Sondra gathered her poise, but I sensed her mood had changed decidedly. She was no longer keen to talk. She wanted to end the conversation – quickly. “You’ll have to wait until Saturday night to find out,” she said. “Meet me at the ‘Victorian’ Restaurant on Newbury Street at seven o’clock.”
The line went dead.
Chapter 16.
I had expected some level of shyness from April when we began Thursday night’s show, anticipating her becoming timid and withdrawn as the first half hour of the program flew quickly by, and we began preparing for the sub-club segment.
Instead, she dutifully cued the music, closed the blinds to block off Grover’s view through the producer’s booth, and demurely began to undress while commercials played over the speaker.
All the while, April refused to look at me. It was as if she had retreated to a world of her own. She seemed calm and focused as she stood in a pair of red lace panties that were high cut across her hips and a bra that looked two sizes too small for her, waiting for my instructions. She had her eyes closed, breathing deeply like she had stolen the idea from a meditation class. There was a pillow on the studio floor that she had brought to work in an oversized shoulder bag.
I glanced up at the clock, suddenly aware of the pressure.
The commercials stopped and the same strains of jazz music that had played beneath the segment the night before came through the speakers. I leaned in to the microphone and deepened my voice so that every word was a calm controlled command that resonated with purpose and will.
“Good evening, sub-club members… and welcome to my world of sexual obedience and submission…” I let a few seconds of music play without speaking and then began again. “I trust that you are alone somewhere in your home, and that you have a candle burning. I expect you to be wearing lingerie. Now…” I paused and husked my voice as if it were filled with lust. “Drop to your knees, and put your hands behind your back.”
Across the small space of the booth, April took a last deep breath and then sank down onto the pillow. She put her hands behind her and the movement pulled at her shoulders so that her breasts seem to bulge. Her back was straight and she had her hair brushed out tonight. It fanned across the lustrous pale flesh of her back, sparking like fire in the dull glow of the studio monitors.
“Good girl,” I spoke to April but the words carried to everyone that was tuned in to the program. “Now make sure your knees are parted. I like to be able to see that gap between your thighs, and the soft mound of your pussy. Present yourself to me so that my imagination can run wild, thinking about the pleasures that await behind that thin film of sexy lace.”
April’s knees were already parted, but she moved them just a little wider. She was looking directly ahead, though I was sure she could see me from the corner of her eye. I studied her the way I would inspect any other submissive woman who presented herself to her Master.
“You look beautiful,” I said softly into the microphone, “and desirable. Open your mouth for me. I
“No. Saturday night. Take it or leave it.”
She hesitated like she was considering the offer, but I knew she wasn’t. She was playing games.
“Okay,” she sighed at last. “I guess I can wait until then. Do you want me to choose the restaurant… since you’re new in town?”
I felt the shock of her words jump down my nerves and jerk them tight. “How did you know that?” I hissed the accusation. “How do you know I haven’t lived in Boston all my life?”
Sondra went quiet on the phone and behind my eyes flashed a mental image of young Cindy being discovered in the bathroom with Grover – that sense of sudden horrified guilt she must have felt at being caught out. I pictured her young face flushing with angry color as she stammered to explain.
“Well…? Do I know you?”
“Maybe,” Sondra gathered her poise, but I sensed her mood had changed decidedly. She was no longer keen to talk. She wanted to end the conversation – quickly. “You’ll have to wait until Saturday night to find out,” she said. “Meet me at the ‘Victorian’ Restaurant on Newbury Street at seven o’clock.”
The line went dead.
Chapter 16.
I had expected some level of shyness from April when we began Thursday night’s show, anticipating her becoming timid and withdrawn as the first half hour of the program flew quickly by, and we began preparing for the sub-club segment.
Instead, she dutifully cued the music, closed the blinds to block off Grover’s view through the producer’s booth, and demurely began to undress while commercials played over the speaker.
All the while, April refused to look at me. It was as if she had retreated to a world of her own. She seemed calm and focused as she stood in a pair of red lace panties that were high cut across her hips and a bra that looked two sizes too small for her, waiting for my instructions. She had her eyes closed, breathing deeply like she had stolen the idea from a meditation class. There was a pillow on the studio floor that she had brought to work in an oversized shoulder bag.
I glanced up at the clock, suddenly aware of the pressure.
The commercials stopped and the same strains of jazz music that had played beneath the segment the night before came through the speakers. I leaned in to the microphone and deepened my voice so that every word was a calm controlled command that resonated with purpose and will.
“Good evening, sub-club members… and welcome to my world of sexual obedience and submission…” I let a few seconds of music play without speaking and then began again. “I trust that you are alone somewhere in your home, and that you have a candle burning. I expect you to be wearing lingerie. Now…” I paused and husked my voice as if it were filled with lust. “Drop to your knees, and put your hands behind your back.”
Across the small space of the booth, April took a last deep breath and then sank down onto the pillow. She put her hands behind her and the movement pulled at her shoulders so that her breasts seem to bulge. Her back was straight and she had her hair brushed out tonight. It fanned across the lustrous pale flesh of her back, sparking like fire in the dull glow of the studio monitors.
“Good girl,” I spoke to April but the words carried to everyone that was tuned in to the program. “Now make sure your knees are parted. I like to be able to see that gap between your thighs, and the soft mound of your pussy. Present yourself to me so that my imagination can run wild, thinking about the pleasures that await behind that thin film of sexy lace.”
April’s knees were already parted, but she moved them just a little wider. She was looking directly ahead, though I was sure she could see me from the corner of her eye. I studied her the way I would inspect any other submissive woman who presented herself to her Master.
“You look beautiful,” I said softly into the microphone, “and desirable. Open your mouth for me. I
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