A Gift of Submission

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Chapter 5 - Maria

He took her to a local pub, where they ordered drinks and sat in a dark booth together. A simple pub meal on a Friday night. Something they hadn’t done for a long while.

‘So, what’s the occasion?’

‘Funny you should ask,’ he said. And looking over Lucie’s shoulder, he called out, ‘Hi Maria, we’re over here!’

‘Maria?’ whispered Lucie. Her heart skipped a beat, her stomach froze. He hadn’t told her he’d invited Maria. Was this what she thought it was, or was he just fucking with her?

She was gorgeous, Lucie had to admit. Red-headed, softly spoken Scottish tones. Tall, busty, fit. And seriously well dressed, Lucie noted as she stood and they air-kissed theatrically. Actually, she was what could be described as sultry, chic. Lucie felt at a serious disadvantage; what had Marc told her? She flashed through these thoughts in the seconds it took to sit again, and wondered whether she shouldn’t just ask outright, get it over with. She watched Maria kiss Marc hello, a brush of her lips on his cheek, a hand on his upper arm. There was no doubt that Maria fancied Marc. And then she had it. She knew with a deep-down certainty that shot through her. She felt a tingling sensation down her spine, though her thighs, into her sex.

In their chats about fantasies, they’d talked about other people. Their relationship was monogamous; old-fashioned in that sense perhaps. Marc had admitted to the male fantasy trope of seeing her make out with another woman. Actually, it turned her on too. Bi-curious, she had learned it was called. She’d never had the stereotypical schoolgirl crush or university fling. She was intrigued as to what it would be like. Lucie had asked Marc how he’d feel about her being fucked by another man, whilst he watched. He closed that idea down pretty swiftly. Nothing in it for him except pain, he said. He’d feel overwhelming jealousy and fear of losing her. He couldn’t stand it. Fair enough, she’d thought. It wasn’t on her bucket list, but she was just pushing limits, to see his reactions. Guy on guy action was equally discounted. She wasn’t sure it’d do anything for her, and he was in no way interested in homosexual experimentation. And of course, he’d asked her about him fucking someone whilst she watched. She had surprised herself, and him, when she admitted that that scenario aroused her. She couldn’t explain why but, yes, she could imagine watching him get fucked by another woman. He had described the scene and she had virtually raped him as he lingered on imagined details. And then the other night, after his dominance exhibition and their post-coital bliss, she asked him to fuck Maria. And here was Maria, who had a thing for Marc, and who was sexually open, from all the stories she recounted.

Maria sat close to Marc and nursed her drink for a few quiet moments. It was Maria who broached the subject, hurling fantasy into reality. ‘Are you guys sure about this? I don’t want to lose friends.’

Marc smiled at Lucie but said nothing.

“Well, that depends what ‘this’ is Maria. He hasn’t told me.’

‘You absolute bastard,’ she exclaimed, turning on Marc. ‘What the fuck?’

‘I can explain. Lucie’s Valentine’s gift is an exploration of submission. It’s something she’s wanted for a long time. When I invited you here, made you a proposal, I knew it was something she wanted, but I didn’t tell her. Because I’m just going to tell her. She doesn’t get a choice.’

‘Lucie?’ asked Maria.

‘Well, I have a choice. We have a safe word. I can withdraw consent at any time. I’m not. Withdrawing consent. Not yet. It’s about trust and experiencing some uncomfortable uncertainty. And just so we’re clear, it was me who suggested you to Marc.’

’So, Luce. You are going to watch Maria hit on me. You’re going to passively watch the flirtation, the attraction. And then Maria’s going to come home with us for a drink or three. And you can only watch. Not comment, not argue, not suggest. Just watch. Say, ‘thank you.’

‘Thank you,’ she intoned.

‘Oh, that’s harsh Marc,’ laughed Maria, hand on his arm again. And then hand under the table, on his leg. ‘I don’t have a lesbian bone in my body, Lucie, in case you were wondering. I’m all about dick.’

Lucie said nothing. In role, already. She watched as they drank, laughed, touched one another flirtatiously. She watched as Maria disappeared to the toilets, and Marc also disappeared. It was long five minutes before he came back. Maria returned another five minutes later. There was a current between them. Lucie could feel the tension. She felt sick at the thought that they had met up, kissed or maybe more, before coming back to the table. Marc had returned with drinks and the bar was crowded. Maybe it was as simple as that. He was fucking with her mind. Bastard. Another ripple of arousal.

She rode in the front seat of the taxi. Marc and Maria falling laughingly into the back seat. She resisted the urge to turn around, to look. She could hear mumblings, more laughter. When they got out, Maria was holding Marc’s arm, looking for all the world his girlfriend. Lucie was the spare third wheel. She felt both rejected and dismissed. Until at the door, the faintest smile from Marc, a mouthed ‘I love you’. Inside, he made more drinks. Lucie sat alone in an armchair in the lounge, a large whisky in her hand. The fireplace roared seductively. In the warmth, Maria discarded her short jacket, revealing a light, silky sleeveless top, transparent enough to show her cream-coloured bra.

‘Tell me now, Lucie, and I’ll go home. Or, actually, sleep on the couch after this much booze. Seriously.’

‘No, I want you to fuck him. Here. Now. You’ve wanted to for long enough.’

‘You’re right. I have. I never imagined you’d be watching though. It’s pretty hot.’

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