On My Knees - Part III - Jenna's Girl

Info subdaphne
13 Nov. '22

The changes were subtle at first, the way leaves start to turn in the fall. 

Giselle never gave up on her investigation of those changes. She was getting close to the truth. One day, coming back from an appointment together, she stared at me as I drove.
"You're happier than I've ever seen you," she said quietly. 
I glanced at her. Her look was almost one of concern. 

I nodded. "Yes, I am." 
Giselle took a deep breath. "I'm not going to pry anymore, because what you have going on is something...I think you don't want to share. Which is cool. I get it."
"Do you? I mean, what do you think is making me happy."

Giselle smiled then, looking out the window. "Something I never expected," she said. "A girl."
I did my best to not go off the road. 
"Am I right?" 
"I thought you weren't going to pry." 

She smiled and looked out the window again. "I knew it. That says all I need to know. You're my friend, and I won't talk about this with anyone."
I stayed silent. 
"Because," she went on, "I'm pretty sure I know who she is." 

I swallowed hard. "Okay." 
She stared at me for a long few seconds. "Well, the offer to have drinks with me and Jake still stands. For you, and her." 
It was a tender moment of relief with my best friend. At a red light, I looked at her, my eyes glimmering with gratitude.
"Thank you." 

Jenna never needed to bind me, speak harshly or restrain me in order for her to have her way. It happened naturally, an evolution that began with something as simple as this small exchange in the living room of her apartment one evening:
"Daphne," she said quietly, her eyes on the TV, "bring me a glass of white wine. It's on the fridge door." 
I had been next to her with my knees drawn up on the sofa, and I found myself so eager as to bound off the cushion and into the kitchen.

There had never been any discussion about wine for us; no, it was understood that it was for her. Without her explaining, I realized that for me to have a glass of wine with her, I would have to ask permission. As I dutifully brought the wine, I felt happy that I was doing something for her. I had been visiting two or three times a week now, and each time, the requests she made were more direct, more like demands. Never were they rude or angry sounding. They were calm, but with a tone that told me they were quite non-negotiable. The way she directed me made me feel needed, loved. Useful. 

I held the glass out to her, and when she took it, her eyes held mine. "Sit there," she said, pointing at the carpet by her feet. "So I can play with your hair." She was telling me...where to sit? And, on the floor? I hesitated for a second, wondering, "have I lost my will entirely?" Before my brain could answer it's own question, I was on the floor, close to her, my knees drawn up, and she was stroking my silky dark brown hair while she sipped her wine and watched her show. At one point, I laid my head down on her thigh, and realized how much I loved this feeling.

Several nights later I arrived at her apartment at 9pm just as she had told me. On the phone, she had deepened my submission by telling me, "Wear that cute light blue dress you wore on the boat that night." And I did just as she asked. 
When she opened the door, oh my...what a whirlwind of eroticism I was thrown into. Jenna, wearing a black lace bodysuit, took me by the wrist and swiftly led me her bedroom. She guided me against the bed and gave my back a firm shove, forcing me to bend over. 

I inhaled sharply as I heard her moving behind me, doing something. Her hands went under my dress, to my ass, caressing gently, her fingers brushing my pussy. I shivered, my sex turning creamy and warm at her touch. 
"Give yourself to me, baby." she said hoarsely. I could have fainted with desire.
"Oh yes," my voice came out in a whisper.

She slowly slid my panties down and pushed my ass cheeks apart. I felt the head of a dildo push gently against me, probing. My pussy opened hungrily and it took only a gentle push for her to enter me. I looked in the mirror and saw the straps of the device on her hips. She held my butt now, owning it, and the gentle smile on her face melted me as she looked down at the cock entering me, her blonde hair cascading down over her breasts.

I let out a moan as Jenna drove the strapon deep into me. Her thrusts were so deliberate, so commanding, and all I could do was squeal with pleasure as she took me. If there had been a tiny fiber of doubt about her complete domination of me, it all dissipated in that raw fucking.

I came several times while she ravaged me. Finally, she unbuckled the strapon, let it fall to the floor, took me by the hair, and turned me around. She pulled me to my knees, and breathlessly I threw my arms around her thighs and buried my face in her pussy. She drew one knee up onto the bed, opening wide, and I feasted on her fragrant, slick folds until she climaxed intensely. Even after she came, I remained on my knees, kissing and nuzzling her thighs as she stroked my hair. 

She asked me something she never had before. "Want to stay the night?"
Did I think of work? Of whether I had a change of clothes, of anything logical? No. My head nodded yes, and my smile was a mile wide.
She pointed to the strapon. "Wash that up and put it away in the top dresser drawer."
"Yes, Jenna." How this relationship had evolved, I thought. I was...obedient! It was nothing less than delicious. 
Later that night, I cuddled next to her and slept like a baby.

The next morning, she was up and dressed as I struggled to get the morning cobwebs swept away. I sat up in bed, watching her brush her hair. 
"I have work," she said. Then she walked to me and cupped my face with one hand.
"You stay here and get the house cleaned up, hm? I have a couple of people coming over tonight." 
Again, my will, the concept of choice, seemed distant memories. My surrender was unquestionably, undeniably complete. 

I nodded happily. "Yes. I'll have everything spic and span." 
"That's my girl," she said, and leaned down and placed a soft, delicious kiss on my mouth. There were still things to learn, mysteries to unravel; But that was one thing I knew I was--her girl. 
I closed my eyes and saw it, as if it were were written in the sky. Jenna's girl.