The Word Master Read Online Free PDF Page A

surrender herself to a Master just to demonstrate her own willingness to submit. In fact, the opposite is true. As a submissive, you have the ultimate power in any BDSM relationship you choose to get into.”
    Tracy almost laughed. I could hear a mirthless, cynical little chuckle in the headphones, and I wondered for a moment whether I was getting through to her. “That’s not what I have been told,” the woman said wryly. “I was told by a guy that if I really was submissive, then I should be available to any Dom who was interested in me.”
    “That’s bullsh- …not true!” I cut myself off. “The guy was trying to manipulate you, Tracy. Submissive or not, you are still a woman, and still a person. You’re not a box on a shelf, waiting to be picked up by anyone who wanders past and is interested. You have rights – the right to choose the Master you want, based on the man’s substance, his experience, his compatibility and his compassion. There is no point giving yourself to a Master if he is heavily into pain and punishment, if that’s not an aspect of the lifestyle that intrigues you equally.”
    Across the desk, April was watching me closely. She held up her hand like a cop stopping traffic and leaned close to her microphone.
    “Thanks for the call, Tracy. Unfortunately we will have to leave it there. Jericho, Christine is waiting for you on line nine. She has a question about sex toys…”
    The hours went by in a blur – a procession of women who were curious and fascinated by the BDSM lifestyle. Most of the calls were similar, and yet everyone’s personal experiences were different. More than anything else, I sensed a genuine fascination, and a thirst for knowledge. By quarter-to-four I was bleary eyed, and my throat felt like it had been sandpapered. I glanced up at the clock and then across to April. She waved her arms in the air like she was trying to throw her hands away.
    “Little girls room,” she mouthed the words, as I finished up another call. Then she held up three fingers.
    I finished the call and thanked the lady for her question. April disappeared out through the studio door in a cloud of fragrance, her handbag clutched under one arm. I glanced past her empty chair and saw Cecily in the director’s booth at her desk. She had her back to me, and the phone pressed to her ear. She was hunched over, as if the conversation was clandestine.
    I leaned across the desk and pressed the keyboard. There was a click in my headphones, and then a soft sensual woman’s voice, sounding breathless and husky.
    “Jericho?”
    “Hello,” I said. “What is your name?”
    “Sondra,” the woman said. There was something different in her tone, something vaguely familiar that puzzled me. I frowned in the darkness for an instant before replying.
    “Hi, Sondra. Do you have a question for me?”
    “No,” the woman breathed. “I have a fantasy.”
    I arched an eyebrow. “Really? Well I’d like to hear it, and I’m sure the other listeners would too.”
    “Are you sure?” the woman’s voice was tantalizing. “It’s very erotic…”
    I glanced once more through the wide window. I saw Cecily run one of her hands through her hair. The phone was pressed tightly to her ear, her body almost doubled over on the chair.
    “Sure…” I said. I was distracted by Cecily’s curious secrecy. I glanced through the open studio door but saw no sign of April. “Sure,” I said again more clearly. “Tell me what sexy thoughts have been fuelling your imagination, Sondra.”
    The woman gave a little gasp and then I heard a sound like she was moistening her lips. I narrowed my eyes.
    “My fantasy starts with me lying in my bed – all alone,” Sondra’s voice was unnaturally thick with a raw sensuality. “I’m awake, and I’m naked. The window is open, and it’s warm, Jericho. One of those hot summer nights when you lie awake, all hot and sticky…”
    “I know the kind of night you’re talking about,” I