Testing the Submissive(21)

Similar to the clients, we submissives are not considered official members. Since we pose no danger, we don’t go through an extensive screening process. Instead for our own benefit and safety, we are regularly interviewed by our sponsor (obviously Lewis in my case), and annually by the network steering committee, as was being scheduled for me today.

The more Lewis told me, the more intrigued I became. I was going to meet and be interviewed by a few of his contemporaries. How cool is that? I had mixed feelings about Lewis being absent for much of the interview. In a way, I wanted him there. I did not have a single negative word to say about Lewis, and I wished he was there to hear me tell the others how much I adored him. On the other hand, I was unwittingly falling in love with Lewis, and I was worried this might not be looked upon favorably. Perhaps it was best he not be there.

Lewis scribbled a name onto a napkin and told me I was expected at the Four Seasons at 2:00.

Once in my car, I regretted my casual Banana Republic clothing selection. I assumed the interview would take place in the evening, which would have allowed me time to change. I would have worn something sexier, and perhaps more formal. Damn. I hope they don’t think I’m disrespectful by not dressing up more.

Arriving at the Four Seasons, I glanced at the napkin and then asked for ‘Mr. Niap’ at the front desk. What an odd name? Then I let out a giggle. Of course, it was a concocted name: ‘pain’ spelled backwards.

The clerk at the front desk rang up to the room, and then directed he me to Penthouse Suite 2208. I was greeted warmly and welcomed inside. I was offered a drink but chose water. Three people were present, two older gentlemen both smartly dressed, and an equally stylish woman who looked about 30ish.

My instinct was to kneel, and I glanced around with the hopes of seeing a kneeling cushion, indicating my expected spot. Instead, I was directed to sit comfortably on the couch, as if I was the equal of everyone present.

The woman started things off: “Hello Abigail. Let me set you at ease by saying you will not be whipped or disciplined in any way today. Nothing sexual will happen here. Today isn’t about that. We are only here to talk with you. A series of questions and honest answers, nothing more.”

As she spoke I was in part relieved, and yet in part, disappointed. My God, what a slut I’ve become. I was calmed to know nothing was expected of me, and my clothing would remain on, yet – my needy pussy was eager for anything, as usual.

“How long have you been prostituting under Lewis’ command?”

“About four months, Ma’am,” I answered, lowering my eyes.

“How would you characterize your role?”

“I’ve thought about that very question, and Lewis and I have interchangeably used a variety of descriptors, although we did not converge on one. In our preliminary conversations, Lewis called me his ‘whipping bitch’. I’m clearly a pain slut or a masochist – but I’m also paid for what I do – which makes me a whore. I obey his every order, which makes me feel like his submissive or slave. All I know is I happily do whatever he says, money or not.”

“Any regrets so far?”

“None, whatsoever,” I answered. “I’ve never felt more alive, more excited. I’ve never felt more fulfilled. The sex itself is unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I have powerful orgasms now that leave me breathless.”

“Do you ever feel at risk, or in danger?”

“Perhaps surprisingly, no. Of course, I know full well the whippings will bring me blinding pain. But deep down I trust no real harm will come to me. Perhaps I’m naive, but I never fear for my life, or any lasting injury.”

“How did you meet Lewis in the first place?”

I sat back and told the story. How it was me who sought Lewis out. How I’d heard of him from a friend of a friend, and saw him at a few social gatherings. He fascinated me, this mysterious Dom who everybody seemed to know, yet nobody seemed to know well. Lewis was wealthy, but didn’t flaunt it. He was always polite to everyone. I was always attracted to that understated confidence in a dominant. He was very sure of himself, yet void of arrogance.

I spoke as eloquently as I could: “He was also gregarious and in demand. Girls wanted him. When I’d first introduced myself to Lewis, he graciously discarded me. I felt like a stalker as I kept at it, finding my way into another party I knew he was planning to attend. I made sure he was aware I was a willing submissive. Eventually he must have noticed potential in me, and that lead to our first interview.”

“Is there anything you’d like to change about your arrangement with Lewis?”