by Tara Sue Me
surprise. I was thrown a little off guard by the fact he wanted me to sit on the floor and write.
Looking at it as a way to prepare myself for a pallet bed that awaited me that night, I settled myself near his feet and started writing. He appeared to be reading papers. If I had to guess, he was going over his notes for the meeting he had the following day. He’d already gone over them a million times, but Nathaniel was Nathaniel.
I pulled out my tote bag to get my water bottle, but remembered I’d left it sitting on the kitchen countertop. Not a problem, the jet had a refrigerator.
“Is something wrong?” Nathaniel put a hand on my shoulder when I started to get up.
“Just wanted to get some water. I left mine at the house.”
“Sit back down.” He buzzed for the flight attendant and I debated hopping up into my seat. Nathaniel kept his hand firmly on my shoulder, though. He must have anticipated my thoughts again.
“Yes, sir?” Margaret, the attendant, asked, stepping into the main cabin. I couldn’t look at her. I pretended to be invisible.
“Mrs. West would like some water. Please bring me a bottle.”
She stepped away to get it and I straightened my shoulders and steeled my spine. Why did I want water? I should have kept writing.
Margaret returned quickly and held the bottle out to me.
Nathaniel grabbed it. “I said bring me a bottle.”
I looked her way quickly, just to see how or if she reacted, but she appeared unruffled. “Sorry, sir.”
She turned and left. Completely unreadable. I supposed that was probably a good personality trait to have with her job.
Nathaniel shifted me so I leaned against his legs and pressed the bottle to my lips. I was more thirsty than I thought and I drank almost half of the bottle. In the back of my mind, though, I kept looking for Margaret to come back in.
“Tell me what’s on your mind.” Nathaniel stroked my cheek.
He probably had a fairly good idea what was on my mind, but might think I wouldn’t tell him since I had his collar on. Which wasn’t the whole truth. I just didn’t feel like talking about it. Because he asked though, I’d tell him.
“I wasn’t expecting you to keep me on the floor while Margaret waited on us,” I said.
“Did it bother you?”
“I don’t know if bother is the right word. It’s just now she knows.”
He traced the line of my collar. “She’s been an employee for eight years. I imagine she knows about most of what happens on our plane.”
“But we’ve never been so blatant and in her face.”
“Technically, all she saw was you sitting near your husband with his hand on your shoulder. Now, if I’d been fucking you over the armrest? That would have been blatant and in her face.” He was silent for a second and hooked a finger around my collar. “We have a cocktail party tonight, which you will attend as my submissive. How will you handle five hundred people if you have difficulties with one?”
“But I’m willing to bet you won’t have me kneeling on the floor at the cocktail party.”
“You’re able to say that because you trust me to know how far I can push you.” He cupped my chin, lifting my head so our eyes met. His were so green and clear, yet filled with an emotion I couldn’t name. “You do trust me, don’t you?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Thank you for being honest.” He leaned down and kissed me. “But I only heard one Master in that conversation.”
I swore under my breath.
He chuckled. “If you’re finished with your water, you can go back to writing.”
I relaxed slightly until he added, “As punishment I want your skirt up around your hips, so you’re naked from the waist down. And sit in a way so I can see how wet you are.”
* * *
Our suite at the conference hotel was spacious and decorated with cool tones of ivory and mint green. A dining room table for eight occupied one corner, while a baby grand resided in another.
“It’ll do,” Nathaniel said, giving the area a once-over.
I snorted. Typical male. The suite was beautiful and the only comment he offered was, “It’ll do”? I supposed as long as it had a bed and bathroom it would be fine for him.
“I didn’t mean the room itself,” he said with a mischievous grin. “Though it is lovely. I meant the dining room table looked like it’d do for what I have planned.”
I answered with my own mischievous grin. Whatever he had planned certainly wasn’t on the mind of the designer when they were creating this space. “I look forward to it, Master.”
“You should.” He gave my ass a playful swat. “We need to be dressed in two hours. Go on and shower. I’ll put your outfit on the bed.”
We’d stayed up late the previous Saturday night negotiating our plans for this week. One requirement we’d agreed on was he would pick out what I wore. It wasn’t something he usually liked, but he’d said it’d help reinforce our roles for the week. I shook my head. I’d been a submissive for a long time and still it would occasionally slip my mind that he had a head space to stay in as well.
He’d told me his requirements for the party tonight as well: I couldn’t talk to anyone without his approval, I would eat only from his hand, and whenever we sat down, I would place my hand on his knee, keeping my own slightly spread.
After my shower, I toweled off and stepped inside the bedroom to see what he’d set out for me to wear. I smiled at his selection. One of my favorites. A short silver cocktail dress with spaghetti straps and an open back and plunging neckline. I decided to pull my hair up, knowing it’d emphasize the neckline and my collar.
I found him after I dressed. He sat on the living room couch, leaned back with his hands behind his head. When I came in, he sat up.
I walked to the middle of the room and dropped to my knees.
“Abigail?”
“I know I’ve been a brat the last few days, Master. I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry and I’m truly looking forward to this week.”
“Thank you,” he said, standing and walking to me, unbuckling his belt. “Since you’re on your knees, there’s something we didn’t do on the jet and since I’m not going to the party with this erection, I’ll give you the privilege of taking care of it.”
I had an overwhelming desire to have him in my mouth, so I made quick work of his pants and had his cock freed within seconds. He was kind enough not to mess my hair up, but instead kept his hands to his side as I engulfed his length.
“Fuck, yes. You have the sweetest mouth. You make my dick feel so good.” He thrust into my mouth. “But you’re going to have red knees when you finish. Everyone who sees them will know you’ve been sucking cock.”
I hadn’t thought about that and I stopped momentarily. He wouldn’t allow it and put his hand on the nape of my neck. “Too late now. Finish me off. Take me deep and swallow everything I give you.”
I was tempted to rush through and make him come quickly. He’d know what I was up to, though, and I really wanted to show my excitement at the week before us. So I took my time and worshipped his cock properly. I glanced up at one point and his eyes were closed. I added a bit more suction and before too long he released into my mouth.
He straightened his clothes while I waited for further instructions.
“Look at you.” He helped me to my feet. “Your lips are swollen and your eyes are dark with lust. Your hair’s the slightest bit tousled and your chest is heaving. One look at you and all anyone is going to be thinking about is dirty fucking sex.” He pulled me close and whispered, “Depending on how this evening goes, maybe I’ll show you just how dirty I can be.”
His words never failed to turn me on, and I was jelly in his arms. “Please, Master.”
He took my arm and looped it through his, and we made our way downstairs.
We were a bit late to arrive, thanks to the impromptu blow job, and the hotel ballroom was crowded when we entered. I recognized a
few of the attendees from previous conferences, but the majority of them were unknown to me.
He steered us to the middle of the room where a waiter stood nearby, offering wine.
“Red?” Nathaniel asked.
“Yes, thank you.” I couldn’t add Master, not with as many ears as there were around us, and once his collar was on me, I couldn’t use his given name.
He handed me a glass and I’d just taken a sip when I heard a deep voice from beside us. “Nathaniel West, I hoped I’d run into you tonight.”
I turned to find Nathaniel shaking hands with a good-looking gentleman. He had dirty blond hair and gorgeous blue eyes. His full lips were curved into a friendly smile, but there was a strength in his expression I recognized.
“Daniel Covington,” the blond said. “I work at Weston Bank and I’m a good friend of Jeff Parks.”
My ears perked up and my cheeks felt hot at the mention of Jeff’s name. I’d really thought never to hear from or about him again after he’d finished his consulting job with Nathaniel.
“And this is Julie Masterson,” he said, indicating the beautiful brunette at his side.
Nathaniel shook her hand and turned to me. “This is my wife, Abby.” He ended with a nod, signaling I was free to talk with both Daniel and Julie.
“Pleased to meet you both.” My eyes fell on the choker Julie wore and I wondered for a split second if it was a collar. But then I scolded myself. Odds were, it was only a necklace. Seriously. Just because you wear a collar doesn’t mean everyone else does.
The men started talking so Julie and I stepped to the side a bit so we could talk separately. She stood with a bold confidence and I wasn’t surprised when she told me she co-owned her own business.
“What do you do?” she asked.
“I stay at home with our children, Elizabeth and Henry. But I’ve recently started writing for WNN.”
“Really?” Her eyes grew big. “I read a blog on their site.”
I was dying to know if it was mine. “Which one? I know several of the writers.”
She shifted her weight from foot to foot and she glanced around the room. “Umm, one on women’s relationships.” She fingered her necklace and whispered, “It’s written by a submissive.”
I couldn’t stop the smile that took over my face. “Oh, well. That one’s mine.”
She squealed, drawing the attention of the men. Realizing what she’d done, she slapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she said when Daniel raised an eyebrow. “Just girl talk.”
The men went back to their conversation and she took my hand and moved us several steps away. Nathaniel’s gaze followed me, but he quickly went back to his discussion.
“I love your blog,” Julie said in a whisper. “You’re really the Submissive Wife?”
“Yes.” I didn’t have a chance to say anything further because she kept right on talking.
“Everything you write is so realistic. I feel what you’re saying. Does that make sense?” She fingered her necklace. “This is probably too much information, but Daniel’s recently collared me, and reading you, it just gives me confidence. I don’t know any long-term couples. You and Nathaniel give me hope that Daniel and I can last.”
In her I saw myself so many years ago, when Nathaniel and I were just starting out. “Julie,” I said. “I’m going to tell you the truth like I wish someone had told me years ago. It’s hard. Really hard. And if you knew everything that was going to happen, you’d wonder if you wanted to do it.” I thought about the road Nathaniel and I had traveled so far. All the heartache and uncertainty of the early days of our relationship. But then I thought about the love, the joy, the completeness we brought each other. “But take it from me—it’s so worth it. If your Master is like mine, you’ll never be happier than you are at his feet and in his collar.”
“Thank you,” she said with tears in her eyes. “We had the stupidest fight last night and I hate it when we argue. It doesn’t happen a lot, but we’re both really hardheaded.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” I pointed to the necklace I now knew to be a collar. “Are you twenty-four/seven?”
“No, we’re not. Daniel’s only Dominant in the bedroom. I wear his collar all the time, though. I like it that way—it keeps us connected.”
“Like the ring I wear.” I held out my right hand so she could see the second ring Nathaniel gave me when we married. “He has one, too. I only wear his collar when we’re in role.”
Her gaze traveled from my ring to lock on my collar. “So, tonight . . .”
“Yes, all week actually.”
“Have you done a week before?”
“No.” I shot her a smile. “But I’m sure you’ll soon be able to read how it goes.”
She laughed. “I look forward to it.”
We talked for a few more minutes. Listening to her reminded me so much of myself. She told me how she was a florist and met Daniel when he happened to stop by her store the first of the year. It was that chance meeting that finally pushed her to explore her interest in submission.
“Your story is a little similar to mine,” I said. “Except for one area.”
“What’s that?”
“I made the first move with my Master.”
That hadn’t been what she was expecting to hear and I laughed at her surprised expression. She recovered quickly, though. “You should blog about how you two met and have your readers share their stories.”
“That’s actually a great idea.” Not only that, but if WNN was truly interested in doing a new women’s television show, that could be a topic for a show. I’d have to run it by Meagan.
“Thanks,” Julie said. “One little question, is there a reason you aren’t using Nathaniel’s given name?”
“I never say his name when I’m wearing his collar,” I explained. “It’s just a small way to help keep me in my headspace.”
She nodded. “Makes sense.”
Looking over her shoulder, I saw the men heading our way. “Looks like the guys have finished their conversation.”
Julie sighed as she watched the men coming toward us. “If that isn’t a fine-looking sight headed our way, I don’t know what is.”
Daniel walked up to Julie and slid his hand to rest on her lower back. She beamed up at him. Nathaniel’s fingers played with the hair at the nape of my neck.
“I told your husband I’d monopolized enough of his time,” Daniel said to me. “I know there are other people he’d like to speak with. But it was so nice to meet you both. Let’s try to do dinner while you’re in town.”
Nathaniel agreed and we said our good-byes.
“You and Julie appeared to hit it off,” he said when they were out of earshot.
“She’s very friendly. Her story reminds me of mine a little bit. And the best part is”—I felt all giddy again just thinking about it—“she reads my blog!”
“Does she? That is exciting.” He spoke briefly to an older gentleman who called a greeting to him before turning back to me. “Is that the first time you’ve met a reader?”
“The first one who isn’t a friend or relative.”
He smiled and started to say something, but was interrupted by another business colleague. Though he was introverted by nature, I always enjoyed watching him in a setting like this one. There was a certain kind of pride in seeing him converse so eloquently and seeing the people who listened so intently. The feeling only grew when he’d turn my way and introduce me as his wife.
We slowly worked the room, because a lot of people ended up approaching him. I smiled and nodded for the most part because he didn’t give me permission to speak. I’d grown so used to being silent, I was caught off guard when he nodded after a woman our age approached.
“Nathaniel,” she said, shaking his hand. She was tall and gorgeous, with honey-colored hair and long legs most women would kill for.
“Charlene,” Nathaniel said. “How nice to see you again.”
“Is this
your wife? You must introduce me.” She spoke the last word while looking me up and down. It took me only two seconds of seeing how she acted around Nathaniel to recognize her type.
Bitch had eyes for my husband.