The Neighbor in the Fourth-Floor Apartment Taught Me to Obey on My Knees

It had all begun months earlier, with a banal conversation in the elevator and a glance that lasted a second longer than normal. Marlena lived right below my apartment, on the fourth floor, and from that afternoon on, something changed in the way she spoke to me. She didn’t ask me for favors: she gave me orders in a softness that admitted no argument. And I, without really understanding why, carried out every one of them.

That night I had come home with my mouth still warm from her taste. She had told me to keep something of hers in a little bag and hold on to it until the next day, and every time I remembered it I felt a mix of shame and excitement I had never experienced with anyone. I was not only fulfilling a desire I had hidden away for years; with every gesture of Marlena’s, I was discovering how far my own surrender could go.

I’m becoming something of hers, I thought as I washed my face. And I don’t want to stop being it.

The phone rang close to midnight. I recognized her number before looking at the screen.

—Come down —she said, without greeting me—. I want to go to bed and I need you to get me ready.

—I’m on my way —I replied.

***

I knocked on her door with my knuckles, lightly, as if the rest of the building might hear me. When she opened it, I dropped to my knees in the doorway, my palms against the cold floor. She hadn’t asked me to, but I figured she would like finding me like that.

—Well, well —she murmured, raking her gaze over me—. You like being my little dog, don’t you? I like very much that you are. Wait here, don’t move.

She came back a minute later with something in her hands. She made me lift my chin with two fingers and fastened a leather collar around my neck, clipping on a thin leash.

—That’s better, isn’t it? —she said, giving it the slightest tug—. If you’re going to be my dog, you’ll have to behave like one when you’re with me. Come on, follow me.

I went after her on all fours, feeling the hallway carpet beneath my knees. Marlena walked slowly, aware of every step, knowing I would follow her no matter where she went. We entered her bedroom. The bed was covered with a folded towel and a couple of things arranged on the nightstand, as if she had prepared everything in advance.

She lay down and spread her legs with a naturalness that stole my breath.

—Clean me and get me ready for bed —she ordered.

I obeyed in silence. My hands trembled a little, not from disgust but from contained desire, from that tension that builds when someone has taught you to wait for their permission for every movement. When I finished, she propped herself on her elbows and watched me with a crooked smile.

—Good. Now come here.

I moved closer on my knees to the edge of the mattress. She grabbed my head with one hand, sank her fingers into my hair, and held me like that for a long while, looking me in the eye like someone assessing a newly acquired possession.

—Do you know what I like most about you? —she asked—. That you don’t ask questions. That when I tell you something, you do it. Most men need to feel they’re in charge. You need exactly the opposite, and that’s why you’re mine.

I didn’t know what to answer. I swallowed and lowered my gaze, which was exactly what she wanted to see.

***

—Stay the night nearby —she said after a while, handing me an old pillow—. On the floor, beside the bed. I want to have you ready for early tomorrow. And keep the collar on; for now, you’ll only wear it inside this house.

I lay down on the carpet, a handspan from her hand, which she let hang off the mattress as if I were an animal that needed to be watched. She turned off the lamp. In the dark I heard her breathing grow slow and regular, and I was surprised to find myself wishing dawn would come as soon as possible so I could be useful to her again.

—Take a key to my place too —she added in a sleepy voice—. When I call you in the morning, I won’t feel like getting up to open the door.

I clenched the key in my fist as if it were a trophy. I slept little and badly, alert to any movement from her, and even so I felt more at peace than I had in a long time.

***

There was barely any light when her voice woke me.

—Get up —she said from the bed—. Take all your clothes off and come here.

I stripped off my clothes clumsily, still half asleep, and knelt beside her. She stretched slowly, enjoying the scene, and put the leash back on me.

—I love waking up like this, with my pet waiting for orders —she said—. Come with me to the bathroom. I’ve been holding it all night.

She tugged on the leash and I followed her on all fours down the hallway, still in the dim light. I expected that in the bathroom she would tell me to stand up and help her wash. That wasn’t what happened. She pointed to the tiles with a gesture.

—Lie down there. On your back.

The cold floor ran along my spine. Marlena stood over me, dominant, her legs apart and her hands on her hips, looking down at me like an empress looks down at a subject.

—Open your mouth wide —she ordered—. I don’t want you to waste a single drop. I hope you like what I’m going to give you.

What followed soaked my face and throat, and I had to swallow quickly to keep up. It was warm, intense, and deeply intimate in its humiliation: she used me however she wanted, without apology, and I took it as a privilege. When she was done, she sat on the edge of the bathtub and asked me to pass her a cigarette and the lighter.

—Stay there, lying down —she said, lighting it—. I like having you under my feet while I smoke.

She rested her bare soles on my chest and stomach, and slowly began to mark her weight with deliberate slowness. The smoke rose toward the ceiling in lazy spirals. I didn’t move, hypnotized by the pressure of her feet on my skin, by the sensation of belonging to someone that completely.

—Did you like your breakfast? —she asked, amused—. I made it with love.

—Yes, very much —I replied hoarsely—. It was hard to swallow it all, there was a lot of it, but I managed. Thank you, really.

—Maybe you’ll keep having breakfast like that. Would you like that?

—Very much.

She smiled, took one last drag, and crushed the cigarette in the sink.

***

—Now wash me —she said, getting to her feet—. And do it properly, that’s what I keep you for.

I knelt again. First I ran a damp cloth over her slowly, tracing every inch the way she had taught me, and then I dried her with the towel. Marlena stayed still, letting me do it, occasionally remarking with a clipped word if something wasn’t enough. There was no haste in her gestures: time, in her house, moved at her pace and not mine.

—Better —she conceded at last, examining herself in the mirror—. You’re learning. Obedience, when it’s real, shows in the details.

We went back to the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed and made me kneel between her legs again, not for anything in particular, just to look at me. She stroked my cheek with the back of her hand, almost tenderly, and for an instant domination mixed with something like affection.

—Don’t get confused —she said, as if she had read my thoughts—. This isn’t romance. But I like you. I like what you are when you’re with me. There’s a kind of strength in knowing how to surrender completely, and you have it.

I nodded slowly. It was the first time someone had put into words what I had felt all my life without daring to name it.

***

—Well —she said after a while, stretching out—. I’ve got to get ready, I have things to do. You can go now. Leave the key in the entrance.

I felt a stab of something that wasn’t exactly fear, but was close to it.

—Is something wrong? —I asked—. Won’t you call me again?

—Of course I will —she replied, carefully taking off my collar and putting it in a drawer—. But not every day. I don’t want to depend on anything or anyone, do you understand? I’ll call you when I feel like having you close, and then you’ll come running. In the meantime, I want you not to forget for a second who you belong to.

—I couldn’t forget you for a second —I said—. I’m your dog.

—That’s what I hope. —She leaned toward me and held my chin—. Open your mouth.

I obeyed. She let a little of her saliva fall between my lips and closed my mouth with two fingers, like someone sealing a pact.

—This is so you remember my taste until next time —she said—. Now go, before I change my mind and keep you here for the whole day.

I left her apartment with my legs still trembling and my mouth full of her. I climbed the stairs to my floor slowly, savoring the waiting that began at that very instant. I didn’t know when the phone would ring again. I did know that when it did, I would be at the door before the third ring, on my knees and ready, because Marlena had taught me something I could no longer unlearn: that my greatest pleasure was, quite simply, to obey.