The Dynamic
GISELE
N ever had my alarm sounded as sweet as it did today. Today, my journey as a submissive began. Stepping down from my high bed, I ambled toward my bathroom, remembering the commands from my Master.
Recollections of the day we finished the vetting process and started talking about specifics repeated themselves over and over in my mind. A giddy effervescence settled in my chest as I removed my pajamas and stepped into the shower. The steam rose at the same speed as my jitters.
“Yes, Master. That sounds reasonable.”
“Boa menina, you’re already easing into being my obedient queen.” His low rumble swirled around me, and I sat tall, preening at his attention and approval.
Remembering his instructions, I took my time showering. The moisturizing oil cleanser glided over my skin, purifying my skin and leaving me fresh and ready for the day.
“Wear the sexiest underwear you own. There should be no day that you don’t dress like the sensual, multifaceted woman that you are.
” Jo?o’s message resonated in the room as I slipped into my mustard lacy panties and bra.
This bra had no padding, all lace. My usually modest breasts flowed abundant in this wire-enhanced cleavage.
I always strived to present myself well and modestly, never too revealing.
Sometimes, I forgot that I had a body made for both functionality and sensuality under the dresses and suits.
Today, my skin tingled in anticipation of the day, and I cataloged every inch of my body that I loved.
My soft skin, toned arms and legs, the thick thighs that refused to do anything but press against each other in the middle.
Even the areas of opportunity appeared beautiful to me, including the dimples in my thighs and the softness in my belly.
Flutters set off in my stomach, and every step toward my walk-in closet was suspended in cloudy softness. I swiped my phone from the bathroom counter and opened the door to my closet.
Now, the first interaction of the day. Everything so far had followed a step-by-step process that we’d discussed and negotiated.
Master Jo?o walked me through the reasoning behind every step of the ritual and how he believed it would take me closer to my goals as a virtuous woman, ready for a traditional marriage.
I didn’t miss that the actual steps of the ritual would make me a more rounded individual and challenge some of my tendencies to overwork and over-schedule my days.
They’d made me take stock of my sexuality.
With the press of my index finger, ringing vibrated through the tiny but powerful speaker.
“Gissy. Good morning, minha moca. Are you enjoying your morning ritual?”
“Good morning, Master; I’m enjoying it, thanks. How are you?” I asked, staring at his handsome face. The tingle in my skin traveled inward until I vibrated with excitement.
“I’m fantastic now that I’m laying my eyes on you.
So, what you have to show me today?” His voice hit me straight in the chest, like warm bourbon on a cool night, and I let it relax me.
His intense regard eviscerated whatever jitters I could possibly have.
I placed the phone on the tripod he gifted me, right in front of my full-length mirror, and stepped back so he could see me in my satin shift.
“I have two outfits for today,” I explained.
“Hold up, are you wearing a shift?” His voice pitched up at the end, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. His eyes crinkled at the edges, and for the first time, I heard him laugh through words. A bubble of joy grew in my stomach.
“Master, are you making fun of me?”
“Nah, nah…”He pressed his fist on his mouth “I need to see this detail. I’m gonna zoom in real quick.”
“Ugh…” I sighed and stood still, not knowing what to do with my hands until I placed my right one on my thigh, dragging the fabric a little higher.
I play-rolled my eyes but inside….inside, I was melting.
I loved to see his sexy, thick lips spread with that smile of his…
then he bit his bottom lip. Oh, waterfalls.
“Mhm. A little bratty, I see. We’ll work on that. Go ahead and show me, boa menina.” He licked his lips. I followed his tempting pink tongue as it caressed his mouth.
“Okay???, this dress I usually wear when I’m going to go out for drinks…
if I have zero meetings.” I pulled out a royal purple dress.
It was a little shorter than my usual calf-length pencil skirts, sitting right above my knees, but where most of my dresses were A-line or fitted, this one flared out.
It had the cutest stand collar, butterfly sleeves, and a peekaboo cutout right over my cleavage line—the main reason why I didn’t wear it on heavy meeting days.
Too much distraction. The cutout was demure; it didn’t reveal much more than a hint of what I had below. “Or the other one…”
I pulled out a navy fitted dress. This one was my usual pencil skirt style, but it had a slit in the back, long sleeves, and a teardrop peekaboo opening right beneath the collar.
“Why’d you pick these two dresses today?”
“Because they make me feel…” I was going to say sexy but stopped.
That wasn’t the prevailing word that came to mind when I thought of these dresses.
Did I consider them sexy? Yes. But honestly, I had seen other colleagues in the administrative office wear slightly more risqué but still professional outfits.
When I wore these two dresses, I was always in a great mood, either about to meet friends in the evening or just celebrating a win at work.
Sometimes, I put them on because I loved feeling happy when I saw myself in the mirror.
The navy one made me feel powerful when I walked down the hospital corridors, a la Jessica Pierce in Suits or something like that, and the purple? Fun and flirty, my stomach filled with fluff, and I smiled. When was the last time I had felt that way?
“They make me feel happy and powerful.”
“Alright, then I pick the navy one for today, but I’ll get to see the purple one tomorrow.”
My chest cavity felt like a shaken can of soda as I imagined putting the navy dress on for Master. Maybe I should bend and let the shift rise a little and tease him some…maybe that would entice him to do a little more today.
With that in mind, I turned around, giving him my back, and unzipped the dress slowly, taking my time as if this was one of my lazy scheduled Saturdays once a month where I just took my time with everything.
Nowhere to be in a rush. Those days were sacred; my showers took longer, I moisturized until I glowed and then picked my clothes leisurely.
I focused on my heart beating and said silent thanks for the blessings of a sturdy body that served me well and a brain that, although crowded, was always sharp.
Soon, I forgot anything but Master and myself.
I took my time skimming the dress over the floor and sliding it up my body.
The dress snagged where my curves were more generous, and I shimmied left and right and felt my dimpled thighs and ass jiggle under my slip.
“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 clear some 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 Jo?o: 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 Jo?o: 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 Jo?o: 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 Jo?o: 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.”