Sensitive Research Ch. 03

"Yes, it could get arousing," I admitted cautiously, "but I do have to remain as detached as I can to maintain my objectivity as a researcher."

"And did you mind that it was two women you were watching?"

"No, not at all, I don't have any problem with homosexuality," I replied.

"Even though you're straight yourself, right Susan?"

"Yes, I'm straight, but that has nothing to do with my research, and the fact that they were not is okay with me."

"What parts did you like the most?" Amber continued to press me.

I didn't want to get further into this conversation with her, as I felt it was beyond the bounds of professionalism. "I really don't. . ."

She cut me off before I could say anything else. "Susan. If I'm going to trust you enough to allow you to meet my clients, and observe our sessions, I need to understand who you are, how you'll likely react to some of the things you'd be seeing. If you don't think you can be honest with me, then you might as well get up and walk out the door now." Her tone had gotten much less friendlier and more demanding.

I was tempted to just get up and walk out the door, rather than open up to her in a way that I would not be comfortable with. I hesitated, trying to decide what to do, and took a big sip of wine, finishing my glass, in order to buy some time.

Amber clearly saw my hesitation. "And if you do walk out the door, I'll be sure to let my fellow dommes here in the city know that they should be cautious with you as well."

I couldn't believe she was threatening me like this. I had already gotten two dommes to agree to work with me on this trip, and was still counting on recruiting others. I couldn't afford to be blacklisted like this, but also felt very uncomfortable with being threatened in this manner.

I think that Amber may have realized that she had pushed too hard, because she smiled at me once again, and said in a softer, friendlier voice as she refilled my wine glass. "Look, Susan, I'm not trying to make things difficult." She leaned forward so that her face was just inches from mine, and placed her hand on my bare knee, just below my dress. I could smell the scent of lavender on her again, and I could feel the warmth of her hand on my skin. "It's just really important to me - and to my clients - that I understand what I'm getting involved in here. Trust is such an important part of my work, and that's why I have to demand your reciprocation. If I'm going to trust you, that you'll maintain the confidence of my work and my clients, then you're going to have to trust me."

I was terribly conflicted, but as I thought about what she said, I realized that it made sense. How could I expect her to trust my integrity, if I wasn't willing to trust her?

I was very aware that she was still touching my knee, even though she had leaned back a bit so that our faces were not so close. In some ways it felt comforting and reassuring to have her hand there, and helped me convince myself that I could trust her. I'm sure that I was also feeling the glass of wine as well, which was providing a calming effect. I'm not much of a drinker, so when I do drink, it goes to my head fairly quickly.

"Okay, I'll answer your questions as best as I can," I finally said, taking another big sip of my second glass of wine. "I'm sorry, what was it you had asked?"

"I asked which parts of the sessions with Cecilia you saw that you found the most arousing."

I tried to be measured in my response, giving her enough information so that she'd trust me, but still maintaining some aspect of my own privacy. "Well," I started, "I guess the thing I reacted to most was when the submissive was performing sexual acts on Cecilia."

"There, that wasn't so hard now, was it," Amber said, patting my knee gently and smiling at me. She sat back again, and took a sip of her own wine.

"No," I smiled back.

"And as you watched this, did you identify with one of the women more than the other?"

"No, to be honest, I thought about both of the roles."

"So you could have pictured yourself in either one?"

"Whoa, wait a minute," I objected, "I didn't say I could picture myself in either one. I just meant that I could understand why either woman could do what she was doing. Remember, I'm a researcher, and I have done a lot of background reading in preparation for this study, so I have a basic understanding of the psychology of both dominant and submissive personalities."

"So you're saying that you never thought about taking either of those roles yourself?" She continued to push on this issue. My discomfort with the topic continued, but I did my best to tread the line I was trying to maintain.

"Well, not really as I observed the sessions, but more as I was thinking about them afterwards."

"And which role did you picture yourself in more?"

I knew I had to answer, so I fortified myself with another sip of wine, realizing as I put my glass down that I had almost finished the second one as well. Once again, I caught Amber glancing at my breasts as they were displayed by my leaning forward to put my glass down.

She must have realized I caught her, because she said, "By the way, I was just admiring your pearls, they look very nice with that dress."

"Oh thanks," I laughed, happy for the change of topic. "They're my research assistant's, she insisted I wear them tonight. In fact, she helped me buy this dress today at Nordstrom's."

"Well, she has good taste, you're a lucky woman to have her. The dress looks fabulous on you, it accentuates your curves very nicely. And I must say, it shows off your beautiful breasts as well."

"Thank you," I said, blushing once more in response to her compliment.

She said no more, looking right at me, waiting for the answer to the question she had posed a moment ago.

"I guess, if I had to see myself in one role, it would be as the submissive," I told her.

"I'm not surprised," Amber replied.

"Really?" I asked, somewhat surprised myself. "Why do you say that?"

"Oh dear, please," she said, as if I should have understood without any explanation. I was very aware that she had used that familiar term "dear" when addressing me, as Cecilia had a number of times. "In my line of work, I have to be very good at reading people's personalities, and categorizing them that way."

"And you can do that so quickly after meeting someone?" I asked.

"Yes, I can," she responded. "And besides," she continued, "that's what Cecilia told me as well."

Once again, I was caught by surprise. "What did she tell you?"

"She said she had you pegged as a submissive from her first conversation with you." She chuckled as she continued, "She's as good as I am at reading people's personalities."

Now I leaned forward toward her. "Wait a minute - I didn't say I was a submissive," I objected to her.

"No, you didn't. But you did admit that between the two roles, you could see yourself more in the submissive one, didn't you?"

I sat back in my chair again, realizing that she was absolutely right - I had said that. "Yes, I did," I said in a somewhat resigned voice.

She must have picked up on my tone, because once again she softened her own a bit. She leaned forward again and patted my knee. "Susan, please don't be upset. There's absolutely nothing wrong with admitting that between those two polar opposites, the submissive is the one you would gravitate toward."

I was very aware of her hand on my knee again, and I was a bit flustered to realize that she thought that I was being judgmental about submissives. "Tha. . . No. . .I. . ." I stammered, trying to formulate a response. "That's not what I meant," I was finally able to get out in a soft voice, looking down.

"That's okay, no worries," she said, patting me again. "I can't tell you how many women I have met who had submissive fantasies, but had such difficulty admitting it to anyone beyond themselves. Those are exactly the kind of women I think I can help the most. Here, I want to show you something." She got up and walked over to a bookcase on one wall, and removed a book. She sat back down on the couch, and patted the spot next to her. "Come sit next to me so I can show you."

I got up and as I started to walk around the table, realized that I was a little unsteady on my feet. I realized the wine was definitely having an effect on me. I sat next to her on the couch, and as I did, she moved over right next to me so that our knees were touching, sending an electric jolt through my body. I saw that the cover of the book was totally blank - no writing, no photographs, nothing.

She opened up the book, placing it across our knees, and began to flip slowly through the pages. It was mostly pictures, with just a little bit of text, and all of the pictures were of women in various submissive poses. There were some who were bound and gagged, some had their limbs shackled, spread-eagled on a bed, and others were blindfolded and sexually servicing other women. Every woman appeared to be different; some were young, some old. They were tall and short, white and black, thin and heavy, but all different. And every submissive was naked.

"What is this?" I asked.

"It's a book I use with some of my clients in my first meeting with them, to make them understand that there are many other women out there who are like them. So many of them come in here afraid that they are some kind of freak because of these feelings they have, and I try to assure them that what they're feeling is quite natural."

As she continued to flip through the book as she spoke, I couldn't help myself from becoming aroused by these pictures as much as I tried. And she was right in what she had suggested earlier, that I found myself identifying more with those women in the submissive roles in the pictures than the dominant.

She came to one page that she paused on. As I looked at the photograph, I realized that one of the women in the picture was Amber. She was naked, and squatting with her ass lying on the face of a naked woman, who was clearly performing oral sex on her. Amber's body was amazing; all curves as I noticed when I first came in, with large brown areola and red nipples topping her beautiful breasts. Somewhat to my surprise, I could see in the picture that she had a full growth of public hair on her pussy - for some reason, I just assumed she would be shaved. Seeing the picture of this woman who was sitting next to me, our knees touching, the smell of her lavender perfume strong in my nostrils, caused my pussy to begin to leak even more. My first thought was surprisingly that I hoped I didn't leak through my panties and ruin the new dress, but then I became worried that Amber would realize how I was reacting.

"Yes, that is me," she said with a smile. "This is a very limited edition book that some other dommes and I had made. We hired a professional photographer to take the photographs and had the book printed. What do you think of these?" she asked.

Again, I tried to deflect her prodding as best as I could. "The photography is beautiful, whoever took the pictures has a great sense of framing and lighting."

Amber chuckled. "Yes, she does. But I'm interested in more than just your critiquing of the artwork. How do the photographs make you feel?"

I suspect that she would know I was lying if I was anything other than truthful. "They are very erotic," I admitted.

"Yes, they are." She closed the book, and placed it on the table in front of us. She picked up my wine glass and handed it to me. "You have just a little bit left, why don't you go ahead and finish it."

I took the glass from her, our fingers brushing as I did so, again sending a little jolt through my body. I did as she suggested, deciding that a little more wine might be enough to settle my nerves. I put the glass, now empty, back down on the table.

"Susan, would you do something for me?" she asked.

"What?"

"Would you go stand over there," she said, pointing to a spot on the other side of the coffee table.

I hesitated, not sure what she was doing. She must have sensed my worry, because she followed up by saying, "I just want to see how that dress hangs on you, because I really like it. Since we have similar bodies, I'd think about getting it for myself."

I smiled, relieved that that was her explanation. I was in fact flattered, because I considered her body - especially after seeing the picture of it naked - to be much nicer than mine. I got up, still feeling the effect of the wine, and walked around the table to stand facing her a few feet on the other side of it. I adjusted and smoothed out the dress as Tara had done for me, and as I did so I surreptitiously felt my ass to make sure the dress was not wet from the dampness I knew had permeated my panties. Thankfully I could not feel anything back there.

Amber gazed at me, clearly running her eyes up and down my body, taking it all in. "Very nice, it really does hug your body well," she said. "Turn for me, please, so I can see the back."

I did as she requested, revolving slowly, to show her all sides.

"Nordstrom's you said?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Well, I like it a lot. I will have to see if they have my size."

I went to go back to the chair I had been sitting in earlier, but Amber stopped me. "Wait, don't move yet." I stopped, looking at her.

She didn't say anything, but just stood there, continuing to look at me. I was getting very uncomfortable, but didn't want to let her know I was, so I just waited. She took another sip of her wine. It must have been a minute before she spoke again, leaning forward toward me.

"Susan, take off your dress for me."

I was shocked at the words that came out of her mouth. "What? I can't do. . ." I started.

But she cut me off. "Susan, take off your dress," she repeated, in a somewhat sharper voice.

I didn't want to do it and knew I shouldn't, but there was something in her tone that caused me to want to comply with her. I hesitated once again, trying to resist, but I knew that I had to do it.

She watched me, not saying a word. She could see my resistance breaking down, and she simply nodded to urge me along.

I finally raised the courage to lift my arms and begin to lower the zipper in the back of the dress. As Amber saw me complying with her command, a triumphant smile came across her lips. She grabbed her wine glass, and sat back in the couch, never taking her eyes off of me.

After lowering the zipper, I shrugged the dress off of my shoulders, and lowered it down over my hips. As it reached the floor, I picked it up and dropped it on the table.

"That's not the way you take care of a dress, my dear," she admonished me. "Fold it nicely."

I did as she said, and placed the folded dress back on the table. As I did so, I glanced at my cotton panties, and could see a small wet spot on the gusset. Embarrassed, I hoped that Amber would not notice. I stood back up trying my best to cover my bra and panties with each arm.

"That's better, but you need to put your hands down. There's nothing to be ashamed of, you have a lovely body my dear."

I reluctantly dropped my hands, placing them at my side.

Amber got up, wine glass in hand, and came across to my side of the table. She proceeded to walk slowly around me a couple of times, just a foot or so away, as I stood there motionless, blushing profusely. "Yes, you have a very nice body, especially for someone your age. What are you, 39 or 40?"

"43," I said in a soft voice.

"43? Very impressive. You're carrying a few extra pounds, of course, but it looks very good on you." As embarrassed as I was, I appreciated her compliment, even though I knew that my body couldn't hold a candle to hers. It helped put me at ease, or at least as at ease as I could be in the position I was in.

She sat back down again. "Now the rest of it."

While I was afraid in the back of my mind that this was coming, I still was shocked to hear her say it. "Amber, please, I can't. . . .," I began protesting.

"Now, Susan." The stern voice was back.

I knew I was powerless, that I had to do it. Even though my mind was telling me it was wrong, there was something deep inside of me that wanted it to happen. I slowly raised my arms and reached behind my neck again, this time to release the clasp of the pearls.

"Not those, leave them on," she commanded.

I complied, not questioning the command, and lowered my hands to reach behind my back and undo my bra straps. I leaned a forward a bit, allowing the straps to slide off my shoulders, followed by the cups off of my breasts. As my large breasts flopped down toward my belly I saw to my continued embarrassment that my nipples were fully erect, another indication of the arousal which I was feeling.

I started to drop the bra on the floor, and then remembering Amber's prior admonishment, I folded it nicely and stepped forward to put it on the table next to my dress. I then put my thumbs in the waistline of my panties, and began pushing them down my legs. As I looked down, I saw to my horror that the small wet spot I had earlier noticed on the gusset had grown in size, and now had spread onto the front of them as well. I glanced up at Amber, to see if she had noticed, but she was only staring at the show I was putting on, no sign of recognition or other emotion on her face.

I quickly dropped the panties onto the floor, then picked them up, folded them with the wet spot on the inside, and placed them on the table as well. I then kicked off my shoes, putting them next to the table, and returned to the spot I had been occupying. I was now totally naked in front of her, other than the pearls around my neck.

Amber just watched this whole display, and when I finished, a smile crossed her face. She took another sip of her wine. "Lovely, dear, just lovely. You have nothing to be ashamed of as well. Now, doesn't that feel better, doing as you are told, and standing there naked in front of me?"

I listened to her question, and while the truth was that I felt a sense of relief at having her take charge, I could not allow myself to admit that to her. I was so taken over by the emotion of the situation, the conflicting feelings that were overwhelming my mind and my body, that I felt a tear begin to roll down my cheek, and no words would come out of my mouth.

Amber must have noticed the tear, because she put her glass down, and walked around the table and came over to me. I thought she was going to hug me, or reassure me in some way, but she simply lifted her hand, and with her finger caught the tear that was descending my cheek. "Tsk, tsk," she said, her face very close to mine, almost touching. "I know this is hard for you, my pet, but you're doing very well. Just you listen to me, and do as I say, and everything will be okay. Won't it?"

Hearing the word "pet" only stirred up the emotions wracking my mind even further. I knew what that meant, and even though I knew what she had been doing to me, hearing that word was like a cold glass of water thrown in my face. But I was powerless to do anything other than to listen to her words and comply.

I choked back my tears, and managed to get out a very soft, "Yes."

"Yes, what, my pet?" she responded.

I crossed the next threshold, giving her the response she wanted to hear. "Yes, Lady Amber."

"Much better," she replied, and walked back and sat on her spot on the couch. "Now are you ready to do as I say, pet?"

"Yes Lady Amber," I said again in a small voice.

"Good, let's continue," she went on. "Clasp your hands behind your head."

I did as she asked, knowing that this would thrust my large breasts out toward her even further. My nipples maintained their erect state, responding to this woman's dominance, and my first submission to another woman. I knew that my pussy would be responding as well, and I could only hope that she would not notice.