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

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

That night I had come home with my mouth still hot 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 mixture of shame and excitement I had never experienced with anyone. I wasn’t just fulfilling a desire I had kept hidden 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 near midnight. I recognized her number before I looked 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 coming right now —I replied.

***

I knocked on her door with my knuckles, softly, 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’d like finding me like that.

—Well, well —she murmured, letting her gaze run over me—. You like being my little dog, don’t you? I really like 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, attaching a thin leash to it.

—That’s better, don’t you think? —she said, giving the tiniest 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 under my knees. Marlena walked slowly, aware of every step, knowing I would follow her no matter where she went. We went into her bedroom. The bed was covered with a folded towel and a couple of things laid out on the nightstand, as if she had prepared everything in advance.

She lay down and spread her legs with such natural ease it stole my breath.

—Clean me up and leave me ready for sleep —she ordered.

I obeyed in silence. My hands trembled a little, not from disgust but from restrained desire, from that tension that builds when someone has taught you to wait for their permission for every move. I carefully parted her thighs, leaned in between them, and began to work slowly, with my tongue and fingers, feeling the warm dampness that already had her open and receptive. She let out a short, satisfied moan and held my head to set the rhythm.

—That’s it —she whispered—. Lower. I want to feel your mouth nice and obedient.

I licked her cunt patiently, tracing every fold, hearing her breathing grow more uneven little by little. The smell was strong, feminine, thick with her arousal, and it made me dizzy with pure desire. When I pushed my tongue in harder, Marlena lifted her hips and tightened her hand in my hair.

—Like that, just like that —she murmured—. Don’t stop until I tell you.

I kept going, hungry now, sucking her clit until I could feel it hard and slick beneath my mouth. She began to move more intensely, rubbing herself against my face, using me as if I were only the perfect tool to take her to the edge. The sound of her wet cunt filled the bedroom, obscene and delicious. I lost myself in it: in her taste, in the weight of her fingers, in the sensation of devouring her while she let me do it because she wanted to come in my mouth.

—Don’t be shy —she said with a muffled laugh—. Suck me like you hate me.

I obeyed even more. I opened my mouth wide, pressed my lips hard against her cunt and alternated suction with long licks until her body truly began to tense. The shiver climbed through her thighs, her belly went rigid, and then she let out a broken, deep exhale as the orgasm ripped through her body. She kept rubbing against my tongue for a few seconds longer, giving little spasms, until she soaked my face with a hot wetness that made me swallow quickly so I wouldn’t miss a single drop.

When she was done, she propped herself up on her elbows and watched me with a crooked smile.

—Good. Now come here.

I moved on my knees to the edge of the mattress. She gripped my head with one hand, buried her fingers in my hair, and held me there for a long while, looking into my eyes the way someone might assess 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 like they’re in charge. You need the exact opposite, and that’s why you’re mine.

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

—And you drive me crazy when you get like this —she added, brushing my cheek with her thumb—. Still. Submissive. Ready to be used.

Her fingers slid down my neck, followed the line of my chest, and stopped at the waistband of my pants. She pulled them down without effort, watching me with cruel, almost ceremonial attention. My cock was already hard, heavy, taut against the room’s air.

—Look at you —she said, with feigned contempt—. So obedient and so horny.

—It’s because of you —I murmured, hoarse.

—I know.

She sat up and made me come closer. She took my cock in her hand, squeezed it slowly from the base to the head, and smiled at the involuntary jolt that ran through me.

—You like it when I touch you, don’t you? —she asked—. You like being in my hands.

—Yes.

—Harder, then.

She jerked me off firmly, alternating pressure and speed until I was groaning through clenched teeth. Then she leaned forward and licked my foreskin, running the tip of her tongue over my head as if she wanted to taste me before deciding what to do with me. I closed my eyes for a second, lost in the wet, hot sensation of her mouth on my cock.

—Don’t come yet —she ordered—. I want you to hold out for me.

I nodded, trembling. My whole body was on the edge, but her voice brought me back to the exact place she wanted me to be.

***

—Stay close overnight —she said after a while, handing me an old pillow—. On the floor, next to the bed. I want 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 rug, a handspan from her hand, which she left hanging over the mattress as if I were an animal that needed watching. She switched off the lamp. In the dark I heard her breathing grow slow and regular, and I surprised myself by wishing morning would come as soon as possible so I could be useful to her again.

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

I closed my hand around the key as if it were a trophy. I slept little and badly, alert to any movement of hers, and even so I felt more at peace than I had in a long time.

***

There was hardly any light when her voice woke me.

—Get up —she said from the bed—. Take everything off and come here.

I stripped clumsily, still half asleep, and knelt beside her. She stretched lazily, 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 the leash and I followed on all fours down the hallway, still in the dim light. I expected her to tell me to stand up in the bathroom and help her wash. She didn’t. She pointed at the tiles with a gesture.

—Lie down there. On your back.

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

—Open your mouth wide —she ordered—. I don’t want you wasting 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 with her. It was warm, intense, and deeply intimate in its humiliation: she used me however she wanted, without apology, and I received it as a privilege. When she was done, she sat on the edge of the bathtub and asked me to hand 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 set her bare soles on my chest and stomach, and began to mark her weight with deliberate slowness. Smoke rose to 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 to that extent.

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

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

—You might end up having breakfast like this all the time. 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. I keep you for a reason.

I knelt again. First I ran a damp cloth over her, slowly, tracing every inch as she had taught me, and then I dried her with the towel. Marlena remained motionless, letting herself be handled, occasionally remarking with a curt word if something didn’t seem enough. There was no hurry in her gestures: time in her apartment moved at her pace and not mine.

—Better —she finally conceded, 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 it wrong —she said, as if she had read my mind—. This isn’t romanticism. 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 anyone had put into words what I had felt all my life without daring to name it.

***

—Well —she said at last, stretching—. I have to get ready, I’ve got things to do. You can go now. Leave the key at the entrance.

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

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

—Of course I will —she replied, carefully removing the collar from my neck and putting it away 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 single 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 them with two fingers, as if 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 all day.

I left her apartment with my legs still trembling and her filling my mouth. I went up the flight of stairs to my place slowly, savoring the waiting that began at that very moment. I didn’t know when the phone would ring again. What I did know was that when it did, I’d 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, simply, to obey.