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horrifyingly magnified in the tiny recorder. I had never heard anything like this before—it was nothing like porn, and oddly embarrassing as it was, I could also see what he’d meant. I could hear the abandon and the desire; I could hear that moment of letting go in my voice. And then something changed and a few seconds later, there was only empty tape and he stopped it again.
    “Did you hear the difference?” he asked and I nodded even though I was still trying to figure out what the change had actually consisted of. 
    “You were there, right there with me in the moment—but then you slipped away, and you were whimpering for more.”
    I had the sudden falling sensation that always accompanied moments of humiliation, when vertigo overtakes my head.
    “You stopped being in the moment and thought of what I might do next. Didn’t you?”
    I nodded again and licked my lips—my cunt was pulsing so hard I didn’t know how to concentrate on anything else as long as it was left so unattended. 
    “But...” I started to say but didn’t continue. When he stayed silent and waited for me to finish, I pressed on, “But it’s impossible not to do that. We do that all the time, we are basically evolutionarily programmed to do that.”
    “I wouldn’t call it impossible,” he disagreed. “It’s just not easy to fight against that conditioning. It has to do with fear and control. As long as you feel like you might have mapped out every possible scenario, you still feel in control.”
    I breathed in the smell of the carpet and felt its texture against my fingers and twisted my neck to look back at him again, studying his face.
    “And as long as you cling to that control, you can never truly enjoy, live, breathe, inhabit the moment you are in.” He smiled and reached down to brush his fingers through my hair. “That’s why we play with control, you know? To achieve that goal, that state of abandon.” 
    “But not for you...” I whispered, almost concerned, but he smiled and ran his fingers over the puckering skin between my brows.
    “Not for me. The goals are a little different when you are the dominant party. But you are not. That’s why it feels so simple and so right to you, just to lie there like this and talk to me, to let me touch you and let me look at you however I want. Your goal is abandon.”
    I smiled back at him sheepishly as I mulled over this idea—and the new sensation of a cunt pulsing, aching at an almost philosophical exchange. It was while I was still considering these possibilities, that he switched the recorder back on and placed it back on the floor. Instead of pulling his hand back, however, he let it hang down just in front of my face. It didn’t touch the ground but floated above it by a mere fraction of an inch. Instinctively, I twisted my neck and shoulders further until I could push my nose into his palm.
    “Good girl,” he whispered, and his tone made my chest seize up with longing. And again I wanted to plead and whine for more even as his smell and his warm fingers rubbed over my cheeks and my nose, even as the moment was simple and perfect as it was. 
    “I want you to lick it for me, like a little puppy, can you do that for me?” 
    My mouth opened but instead of a verbalized answer, I nodded and moved back just enough to find his hand with my mouth. I brushed my lips over the side of his finger, kissed the knuckle of the pinkie one. I was just about to draw it into my mouth again when a sharp smack onto my ass short-circuited my whole body. I jerked and howled out more in surprise than pain. I went tense as a board for a second and then stared up at him with wide eyes.
    “Wh...?”
    “I didn’t say kiss my hand. I said lick it like a puppy.” This was the first time I detected any hint of strictness in his voice and I blushed. He had said that. “Did you lick it like a puppy?”
    I shook my head but this time that wasn’t enough. “What was that?”
    “N... no,