She stands shyly gazing at her reflection in the mirror. Her limbs began to tremble slightly as she remembers that tonight is her first lesson. Since becoming her Masters sub, He has allowed her to progress at her own pace, but tonight was her first lesson. Master was her first and only, she had never ached to submit or felt this need to please as she does for Him. She dresses, wears her hair and make-up in ways that please Him. After se finished her bath, shaving everything soft and smooth, she rubbed baby oil gently into her skin. She brushed her dark hair until it fell into mahogany waves down to the middle of her back, Master adored her long hair. The minimal make-up that Master approved of consisted of dark lavender eye shadow, dark violet eyeliner and mascara finished with a soft lip gloss. She slipped Master's newest gift, a nightie, over her head, wriggling until it fit perfectly. One last look in the mirror to be certain that everything was perfect before stepping through the door.

She slips quietly into the room, gliding silently over the hardwood floor. The white lace of her short gown rustled just below her firm round ass, ample breasts bursting over the edge of the sweetheart neckline. Her tanned flesh glistening from the liberal baby oil she had just massaged into her skin. She knelt obediently at her Master's feet, back straight, head high, palms laid upon her tanned thighs.

He looks down at His beautiful sub, a wicked smile forming on his handsome face. He reaches a strong hand down, curls His strong fingers deep into her dark, curly locks, clenching tightly. He growls huskily, directing her to correct her posture, giving her hair an extra tug for good measure. She obeys instantly, trembling at His growl, speaking softly, but clearly "Yes Master, of course". Readjusting slightly, certain to keep her shoulders back, her ample breasts thrust forward for Him to admire. He grunted His approval as He reached His other hand down to cup one breast, giving her hardening nipple a gentle tug. She never uttered a sound or moved a muscle and her Master smiled with pleasure as He gripped, squeezed and tugged harder.

Master leaned back in His chair, His eyes drifting possessively over His slut. She had not moved a muscle for the last hour and He knew that her knees were probably tender by now. He would reach out occasionally to slap her breasts, chuckling, aware of the sting. Watching such a fine sub awaiting His every command began to stir His lust, His cock began to harden. He called to her "Slut, come to Me". Rising slowly, she moved to stand directly before Him, turning in a slow circle, allowing Him to admire His property. At His nod, she knelt between His knees, her hands clasped behind her back, breasts thrust forward. His glance down at His ever growing cock was her only direction and her small hands moved to work at His zipper. Hands working feverishly, teeth biting into her soft lip, eager to please her Master. Gasping as His massive cock was set free, trembling anxiously as she starts to lean over, soft mouth open and waiting.

Master grips her throat tightly, uttering deeply "o you want it slut? Do you want Master's cock in your mouth?" He squeezed tighter, cutting off her air, watching the lust grow in her eyes. "Beg Me to taste, beg Master for His cock!" He released her throat and waited.

Moaning with want, she pleaded "Master, may I please taste?" her small body trembling with lust, dark eyes begging for her reward. Soft mouth open and waiting, surging forward at His nod. Her soft, warm mouth encompasses the large mushroomed head, licking and sucking hungrily. Master slapped her hands away, gripped the back of her head, forcing His hungry slut further down on his engorged cock. He loved the sound of His slut gagging on His manhood, causing Him to force her down more.

His hunger grew and he began to thrust strong hips, fucking His sluts warm, eager little mouth. He couldn't take His eyes off of her, seeing her soft lips swallowing His cock was bringing Him closer and closer to the edge. Groaning loudly, muscular body tensed as He starts to cum, gripping her hair tightly, pulling her eager mouth from His cock. Grunting loudly as cum squirts over her chin and breasts before collapsing back into His chair.

He looks down at her , smiling lovingly at His beautiful sub, " One thing that I do not have to teach you lil one, is how to suck Master's cock". She smiles proudly as He gives her hair a gentle tug and informs her "We will have another lesson tomorrow my pet, go rest for now."

She crawled into bed extremely proud of herself for pleasing Master so well. The cool softness of the sheets caused a shiver to race through her heated flesh. Oh how she loved sucking His cock, hearing the groans of pleasure escape His lips, but her body always ached for release afterwards. Master allowed her that release every other time, using His talented tongue and fingers forcing her to cum over and over again. Although her body was begging to cum, every brush of cool sheets against hot flesh, causing another series of shivers, she knew not to touch. She was His, completely, mind, body and soul, only Master was allowed to give her sexual pleasure. She whimpered softly, trying to remain as still as possible, she slowly drifted off to sleep. Her last thought was that this must be the beginning of another lesson.

This one, he declared, would be normal. No perversions, no floggers and cuffs and dark corners in clubs where the screaming was louder than the music. Just a plain, sweet romance, man and woman and a bed with clean sheets (maybe a couch if they were feeling adventurous). Before the first date he gave himself a pep talk. "You can do this, Jack, you can romance her just like a normal man. Take it slow, hand on her back but not too far down, polite and not possessive."

That was his phrase for the evening. When the bangles on her delicate wrists rang against each other and he saw himself binding her, wrapping the rope through and around them until they left marks, he said, "polite, not possessive." When he saw the brown curls touching her neck, and had a flash fantasy of closing his hand around it, he muttered "polite, not possessive," and banished the image. When she decided to walk home, he politely (insistently, not possessively) took her elbow. "You'll drive home with me," he said, "these streets are not safe after dark."

She looked up at him through her lashes, a mocking tilt to her lips, and said, "Yes, sir."

The words hit him like a punch, and he had to pause a moment to rally all of his control. He was saying it like a mantra now, "polite, polite, polite" until it lost all meaning. He dropped her off at her apartment, spun around before they could start the confusing dance of the good night kiss, and raced home.

Once home, Jack kicked himself over a glass of Tennessee whiskey. "Jack, listen to me," he said (he had picked up a bad habit of arguing with himself in ten years of living alone, for want of anyone else to argue with). "She's not in your world, and you have no right fantasizing about her that way. For all you know, she would find it creepy. So that's the end of it."

On the second date the temptation was worse. Her blunt wit stoked a deep desire to seduce the words right out of her, and he wanted to suck and bite the mocking tilt from her lips. He acted on none of this, instead bantering with her and touching her only when she first touched him.

At the end of the evening he took her again to her apartment and hovered on the doorstep waiting for her to find her keys. He didn't like the neighborhood where she lived and wasn't about to leave until he'd seen the door lock behind her. After a moment Emily gave up on the keys and looked up at him, eyes bright with some scheme. "Jack," she whispered, out of lips as tempting as apples and red as poison, "why don't you kiss me?"

Jack touched her face, gently cupped her cheek, and leaned in for a soft, open-mouthed kiss. Everything he had read women wanted men to do in a kiss – one hand on her cheek, the other on her waist, and the slow, sweet caresses of her lips. He had told himself exactly how this would go, had studied up for this moment, and executed it perfectly.

When he was done, Emily's eyebrows came together and she touched her lips pensively. "Thank you, Jack," she said, and finally found her keys and slipped inside without looking him in the eyes.

At their next date Jack decided to address this as bluntly as she usually would. After the appetizers, while waiting for dinner, he said, "Emily, what kind of kiss is it that makes you frown?"

"It was a very nice kiss," she said.

"I don't believe you," said Jack. "My kissing has never confused a woman before. I expect racing hearts, weak knees, maybe hands grabbing my arms for support, thready breathing . . . not furrowed brows."

Emily looked away. "There was none of that," she said.

Jack growled impatiently. "Yes, I know, that's what I just said."

Emily hesitantly met his eyes. "There never is any of that, for me. I mean, kissing is nice, but aren't there supposed to be sparks? I've never felt them. It certainly isn't your fault, it's just . . . the way I am. I am sorry that you had to find out like this, so soon."

Jack's heart began to pound, his vision focused on those red lips. He loved her pin-up style makeup, and he wanted to make out until that red lipstick was all over her face and his. "So what does kissing feel like, to you?" he asked softly.

"A pleasant sensation," she said, "with little or no emotional response, even in long-term relationships."

Jack could barely wait to finish dinner. He helped her on with her coat, and with a hand lightly on her back hurried her into his car. Once there he brushed her hands away and covered her body with his to buckle her seat belt. While he was pressing against her, he whispered into her ear, "Tonight we're going to my place for a drink before I take you home."

Emily looked surprised and seemed about to protest when he covered her mouth gently with his hand. "No fear," he said. "You can leave whenever you like."

He peeled out of the parking lot and made amazing time to his place. He pulled in with his heart still racing, almost dropped his keys and managed to get the both of them inside and lock the door. Once in he took her coat and gathered himself while hanging it up. Then he turned back to Emily.

She was standing frozen in his entryway, unsure of what to do now. Jack was about to give her something to do. He used his height and weight to tower over her, stepping in just a little too close so that she had to back up against the wall. Then he slid his hand into the hair at the nape of her neck, leaned in close, and slowly closed a fist in her hair, holding her head back as he lowered his lips to hers. "on't move," he whispered before he plunged his tongue between her lips. No preliminaries, just the slow fucking of her mouth and the tight hand in her hair so she couldn't turn away.

After a few moments Emily's knees buckled and Jack grabbed her shoulders and pressed her into the wall to steady her. Then he resumed his exploration of her mouth, this time biting those luscious lips just hard enough to make her squirm. He could feel her heart speeding up, her breath coming unevenly. When he knew her mind was blank, he drew back and set her on her feet.

"You said you never feel anything when kissing," he said. "That was an experiment. Tell me, what did you feel?"

Emily's voice was low and purring when she managed to speak. "Yes," she said. "Yes, more."

Jack leaned in to her again, this time closing his hand around the back of her neck and caressing her jaw with his thumb. He leaned his head in close, breath hot on her ear until she shivered, and said, "Ask politely."

Emily swallowed. "More, please," she whispered.

"Almost," said Jack. "Ask again, but this time call me sir."

Emily squirmed a little, embarrassment setting in, but his body was there, pinning her, his eyes piercing into hers. "More, please . . . sir," she said.

"Good girl," said Jack, and he kissed her senseless.