Journey of Submission Part II

Submitted by Nicolae Parx

"Direction"

She handed him the keys as easily as she held his hand throughout lunch. Implicit in that gesture was the understanding that Nicolae would drive from the restaurant to wherever it was that Roxana intended for the two of them to go. He marveled at her ability to command his direction without saying the specific words; even more, he was astounded at her apparent knowing that he would understand her smallest gestures.
Nor was it lost on him that he was obeying each of her silent commands without question.

After he helped her into her car, he adjusted the mirrors and seat and started the ignition before realizing she hadn't given him any directions for their imminent travel. He looked at her questioningly and Roxana responded with a smile.

"Where would you like to go?" she asked demurely.

Nicolae sat in the comfortable leather upholstered driver's seat and pondered Roxana's perplexing question. Until three hours ago, he would have had no trouble answering her and now he was utterly confused as to where he wanted to go. For the first time, he realized deep inside his soul that getting somewhere wasn't as important as traveling there with someone. Although he didn't have a partner to journey with, he felt Roxana's presence in his voyage and it was a reassuring and soothing feeling.

Things weren't simple anymore and Nicolae's baffled look told Roxana that he finally realized some questions don't have easy answers. Like where to go.

"I'm at your command," Nicolae retorted with a smile.

"Don't be one of those doormat submissives," Roxana admonished in a voice that was new to Nicolae's ears. "Don't say 'Anything you want, Mistress,' or silly phrases like that." She let her words sink in before continuing. "Always remember that you are valuable, to be cherished. Don't agree to 'do anything' that you haven't negotiated. This is no venue for that kind of surprise."

Nicolae was stunned by her harsh words and tone and tried to process how the conversation had turned so suddenly serious.

Feeling his heart race a bit, Nicolae worried that he had somehow offended this grande dame for whom he had traveled across the continent for a few minutes of her valuable consultation.

He didn't realize she was protecting him from himself until much later that afternoon.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out, "it was supposed to be a joke. I didn't mean to offend you at all. I'd never do anything like that…" Nicolae's words trailed off and his face was empty.

Roxana allowed him to feel uncomfortable for a full three minutes before she spoke.

"Think with your brain, dear," she admonished him, "and not with your hormones. When you enter into a relationship, make sure all the understandings have been brought into the open; even those things that you believe might be better left unspoken. There is nothing that should be unsaid; nothing that should be left to either imagination when the stakes are high." She paused briefly and asked, "Do you understand me?"

Nicolae could merely nod and he knew she would find that affirmation lacking. Somehow he realized that Roxana would insist on a more complete lesson, but he had no idea how she would impose it. Not knowing when she would instruct him was the lesson she was about to impart.

"Now," she renewed her request, "Where would you like to go?"

Nicolae felt his heart tug, as her words seemed to make no more sense than they did ten minutes ago but he willed himself into hearing what was behind them. He refused to respond until he was certain that he understood her meaning. Without consciously knowing it, he had succumbed to her dominance and was slowly being dragged into her carefully thought-out plan.

He was surprised that he had to clear this throat to speak.

"With you," Nicolae responded in measured tones. "With you to somewhere I've never been before." His ears did not process the voice that emanated from deep within his chest and for a moment, he felt completely off-balance, yet totally sure of his reply.

Roxana's lips turned upward at the throatiness of his voice and the gentle tremor she detected in his knee. Worrying that he might have been too full of enthusiasm to think clearly, she was delighted in his thoughtful response. It was, she smiled silently, exactly where she wanted to take him.

"Turn left at the light," she directed, and the two sped off on a brand new journey.

Exploration

Her home was as resplendent as it was picturesque and after parking in front on the circular drive, Nicolae helped Roxana out of the car. Somewhat surprisingly, a youngish man opened the front door and welcomed her home.

A son? Nicolae hadn't counted on a son but after careful reflection noted that this young man could no more be her son than she could be his mother. It just didn't figure until he heard him end his sentence with a murmured syllable that spoke volumes.

"Welcome home, I have your messages and voicemail," he spoke clearly and then completed the phrase with a whispered, "Ma'am."

Nicolae recognized household help immediately. But his eye was drawn to Roxana's soft caress of the young man's outstretched hand and there was no denying that a special look passed between their eyes. This young man, whoever he was, occupied a special place in Roxana's life. Half jealous and half perplexed, Nicolae followed them both into the foyer.

The décor was Crate & Barrel - airy, windswept and comfortable. Nicolae delighted in the surroundings and especially the view of the ocean from the rear deck onto which he stepped when no one seemed to have any specific plans for his time. As Roxana disappeared into her office to sort through her various messages, Nicolae allowed his pale skin to drink in the glorious sunshine that was enveloping him. He felt warm, comforted by the sun's rays as a beloved toy held carefully in a child's hands.

"You are to follow me," a quiet voice invaded Nicolae's ears and captured his attention.

There were no more words exchanged between him and the young man until Nicolae was deposited into a fairly large room. As he shut the door behind him when he exited, the young man offered, "Have fun."

Alone, warm and comfortable, Nicolae surveyed the room. It was pale but bright, secure but airy, and inviting but foreboding. As he drank in this odd mixture of architectural emotions, Nicolae's eyes were drawn to the warm taupe carpet and its thick pile. He imagined that curling his toes in its depth would feel heavenly. Torn between waiting patiently for Roxana and removing one shoe and sock to play with the ultra plush carpet, Nicolae stood silently and noticed the room's rather sparse furnishings and the breeze that fluttered in through the opened French doors that led to what must be yet another expanse of deck that wrapped around the back of Roxana's house.

It was the kind of sunshine and breeze combination that made Nicolae's body start to move.

The rhythm of the breeze through the open doors seemed to strike a chord inside Nicolae's body and memories shot through him in an odd procession of notes that created a silent symphony in his legs. The patter of curtains billowing against the breeze seemed to energize him and the constancy of the sunshine filled his chest with a sense of power he hadn't felt in so many years. Without realizing it, Nicolae had begun to dance in the smallest movements that were barely discernible to anyone who wasn't tuned into him.

The expanse of floor, soft carpet and eerie sounds and sunshine drove him to take his first large step and it felt good. He took another and another and was soon feeling the openness inside him that the décor enhanced in his surroundings. It had been years since he allowed himself the luxury of moving in tune to his own personal rhythm section and it felt liberating.

Roxana saw the emancipation in every step he took. Silently, she stood behind him, following his every step with investigating eyes. Why hadn't he removed his shoes, she thought silently. He could have moved more easily without them, she concluded.

Sometimes there are deeper meanings in what people do not do than in what they do, she had learned so long ago.

Examining every step he took and every muscle that strained under his slacks, Roxana felt an odd urge to strip him mentally and watch his lithe naked body perform solely for her. She imagined his tight calves, solid thighs and firm ass that could serve only to delight her as a post-lunch dessert. As her eyes rose to his shirt, the image of his bare back and muscular shoulders made her wince with a welcome sense of desire.

She stood noiselessly and watched Nicolae dance on the edge. The silent sound that only the two of them could hear was deafening.

And then Roxana smiled.

Dance

"You dance so sweetly," Roxana spoke quietly in hopes that she wouldn't dissuade Nicolae from continuing but knowing explicitly that her voice would cause him to stop. As he wound down from his plateau, Nicolae's shoulders drooped almost imperceptibly and his feet stood flat on the floor. Almost too embarrassed to face her, he walked toward the sunshine.

"You could dance more easily without your shoes, couldn't you?" she asked so innocently that he was forced to answer monosyllabically.

"Yeah. I suppose." His voice trailed off and with it, his spirit.

'Then take them off, sweet boy," Roxana's voice raised a notch in sternness that was not lost on Nicolae's ears.

It was as if she read his mind and knew his earlier thoughts. The allure of the taupe carpet was magical and the notion of his toes immersed in the deep pile was too great to ignore and her slightly insistent voice raised the bar in his head. It wasn't merely an invitation to take off his shoes, and they both knew it. There was deeper meaning.

Almost unconsciously, Nicolae kicked off his docksiders and bent to remove his socks. Roxana observed his limberness with a calculating eye and recalled those vivid conversations he had typed so painstakingly to describe how the dance was not part of his life; rather, how it was his life for such a long time. She felt his passion for it then through the bandwidth and watching him in real life simply bend so gracefully toward his feet brought the chats they had to the forefront of her concentration.

His feet were naked on the carpet and his slacks hung elegantly from his waist.

Nicolae stood in the center of the room, devoid of thought or plan, and simply waited for her instruction. His posture was somewhere between stiff and erect and in her mind, approached regal. He was beautiful when he stood like that and she drank in his body with increasing delight.

Soundlessly, she moved toward the stereo cabinet and selected Ray of Light. She hoped it would be important to his ears.

As the music resonated throughout the room, she watched his body drink in the strains and take them inside himself. Slowly, little by little, he felt the rhythm and began to sway. Roxana's senses were overpowered with his slight movements and she walked tenuously to the room's single chair before she, too, began trembling.

Then he closed his eyes.

There was a power in his blocking out external sights and distractions coupled with a fierce self-focus that brought a heightened sense of passion to every corner of the room. It enveloped Roxana and washed her in a delightful sense of eagerness on so many levels for what he was about to bring to her. To perform, he had to block out what was outside him; however, he could not perform unless it was all there. She empathized with his dilemma and had a deeper understanding of his complexity.

Inside Nicolae, things had never been as clear and uncomplicated as they were in this moment. Only two things existed for him: the feel of his feet on the carpet and the rhythm that pulsed throughout his body. Within a few moments, his entire being began to move in harmony.

Without bravado or introduction, Nicolae used the room's expansive emptiness to tell his story. What words could not accomplish for him earlier, the dance afforded him clear communication. When he could not express his intricate feelings with his voice, he could now relate in the way that was his.

Roxana felt his power emerge from somewhere deep inside and press toward his skin. Sweat poured from him and gleamed in the warm sunlight. If she had to describe him in a single word, she would have chosen, "free."

His strong legs moved him onward and up; his sturdy arms reached for the sky. His dance was his being and it was his gift to her.

When the music faded, Nicolae seemed not to notice and his body continued a melancholic continuation of his story. She knew him now, and those late-night chats seemed both fraught with new meaning and simultaneously inconsequential when compared to the performance he had just given her. Two thoughts flashed through her mind.

She wanted him. And she wanted to see his legs, chest, arms, and hips in their natural glory.

He had come to her simply to meet and clarify his yearnings; instead, he had given her an offering that was unmatched and unmatchable.

Finally, his exhausted body sunk to the carpet, a few feet from her chair. Collapsing from utter physical and emotional fatigue, he rested on the thick carpet and the sound of his breathing filled her ears. Roxana realized that she not only wanted him, but also that she wanted him differently. Nicolae was different and he had, in that short but eternal moment, touched her in a place that had been long dormant.

Too long, she thought.