Page 34 of João
“Mhm.” Master cleared his throat, and I peeked over my shoulder and smiled but kept shimmying until the dress slipped past my hips and up my torso.
Master deserved a show; he might have meant this for me, but this was for him; I was here to serve him. I hadn’t missed that Master didn’t place anything today that was for his service only. All of my tasks were about my self-care. But what about his?
Finally the dress was up and I used my zipper stick to get it all secured.
“That should be my hands zipping you up,” he said.
“I agree.” I winked over my shoulder, feeling immensely pleased with myself.
“Okay, menina, keep being such a good queen. Talk to you later,” Master said and hung up after I gave him a brief nod.
That effervescence he created with a single ritual remained with me through my morning meetings. Finally, after a few tedious but inevitable conversations, I sat at my desk to clearsome emails. My phone started vibrating when I settled it on my glass desk, the vibrations mirroring the way my blood sang when I noticed who was texting me.
Master João: Menina, I haven’t heard from you.
Me: Sorry, Master, the office’s been a hot mess. But I’m drinking my water, minding my stress levels, and taking my vitamins. Did you see my gift? I sent you a new water bottle to keep in your office; I noticed you didn’t have one.
Master João: Yeah, I got it. Thank you, menina, you didn’t have to do all dat. I can take care of myself.
Me: I know that, but I want to take care of you. Have a good day at the club, Master.
Master João: And you.
The grin on my face should not be this wide; this man had me on cloud nine and it was just the first day of our dynamic. The little messages continued throughout the day. For lunch, I sat in my office scarfing down my quinoa salad when I got a message.
Master João: I’m the one who needs to be making sure you eat.
A picture of the same quinoa salad sitting in front of him in what seemed to be his kitchen appeared on my screen, and warmth coursed through my whole body.
Me: So you got my delivery. Great!
I’d arranged for a rideshare with a care package to be delivered to him for the day. No matter what Master said, my duty was my submission to him. And he needed someone to do this thing for him. I’d noticed sometimes he’d go the whole day without taking care to have a proper meal. Now that I was his sub, I’d make sure I served him well.
My phone rang, Master’s face flashed on my screen, and my heart leaped at the sight. The tingling in my chest expanded to my belly as I put my fork down and answered him.
“Boa menina… You’re doin’ too much; this day is supposed to be a light start. First, we make sure you can take care of yourself, and then we can work on full submission.”
The way his voice made me react needed to be studied. I’d had relationships and been extremely attracted to men, but what was the pull that this man had on me? Years from now, there’d be a show on Netflix about this phenomenon.Why does this twenty-first century woman clench her thighs and get wet at the sound of this particular voice? Stay tuned for our in-depth documentary.
“I think I can handle more…” I answered with a little more dip on my chip than I intended. “…Master.”
Oops.
This was the hard part. No matter what, being in a 24/7 meant certain niceties were always observed. That had been the biggest sticking point in the conversation when vetting and negotiating. João didn’t want 24/7. He wanted sessions when we could hang out together and enjoy our dynamic, but he hadn’t been keen on something so encompassing. I, in turn, had no desire to experience just scenes. I respected those who operated that way, but after years of living on the outskirts of kink, reading and lurking and thinking it wasn’t the life for me, a pious church woman, I had no desire to half-ass anything.
We butted heads for days, neither willing to cede. It should have been a sign, but on the third day—and yes, I realized the coincidence—he called and said he’d agree to 24/7 if we put a time limit on it. And I agreed.
“Mhm, quiet but strong-headed. I noticed it the very first day I met you, and then you showed me again at the grocery store. So you want to fight me about this, Gissy? Do you think you’re gonna win with me? Are you looking for punishment so early in the game?”
His quiet, delicious menace made me shift in my executive chair. Thank the Lord I had locked my office already.
There was no moment I was at risk of saying His Name in vain with Master on my neck about what he expected of me; every single time I said the name of the Lord, it was in plea and supplication.
“Master, I’m just…can I just be transparent?”
“I thought that was what you were doing already?”
“I was clear in my document of what I wanted for this dynamic. Part of our agreement is that you’d trust me to know when I was ready for more but that you’d reserve final decision-making of when to move on to certain things. This is just me reminding you to respect that I know my mind.” There, that sounded alright, didn’t it? Ugh. I wanted all of this formality; it was exhilarating but also very hard to navigate. How to strike the right tone? Were banter, jokes, and laughter allowed if Master wasn’t in that mood?
