by Selena Kitt
He gave her a curious look and then pulled his hands back, "Of course, Pet."
Leaning down, she brought her hands in front of her to brace her, and dropped her head to place a kiss on top of his left foot and then his right foot. She sat back up into a kneeling position and said, "Thank you, Sir. Thank you for taking such good care of me, and thank you for knowing how far you could take me. Sometimes I wish we could be like this more, sometimes I miss it when we're done. I know that once I come back to myself I'll be fine with how things normally are. But for now, I'm sad that my collar is coming off."
He bent his knees, balancing on his feet so his face was at her level and said, "I understand, I'm a little sad it's coming off too, but I'm also glad that within a few hours I'll have my wife back. I love our time like this, but I love the other side of you even more. If you want to do this more often, without the time in front for sleeping and cleansing, we can negotiate that. Maybe something like the third weekend of every even month? Something that wouldn't include any holidays and could be negotiated before or after if a birthday or other occasion came up? Keep in mind that it's a possibility, and if you still want to do it in a few days then let me know. Deal?"
She smiled, "Deal, Sir. Thank you."
He reached for her collar and fiddled with it a bit then pulled it away from her neck. She reached up, feeling of her skin, and then stood to get a hug from him. When she knew the hug should be over she pecked him on the cheek and gave a quick, "I love you", then forced herself to turn and walk away from him. She walked up the steps while he stayed behind to clean up and put things away. After going to their bedroom to use the restroom and put pajamas on she went into the kitchen and sat at the table. Two peanut butter and peach preserve sandwiches were already made, just like she liked them. She fixed a glass of ice water and then sat and pulled the sandwiches out of the plastic bags. She was on the second sandwich when he came into the kitchen and pulled some spicy hummus out of the refrigerator and handed her a bag of chips. They didn't talk, he let her have time to process everything and come back to herself in her own time.
She ate and took a shower, knowing that she'd have an opportunity for sex however she wanted it at some point in the next couple of days. She wasn't sure if she wanted it now, or later when she wasn't so sore. He always gave her one sex session where she got her way, though of course she couldn't cause pain to him, that wasn't what it was about. It was about her being able to demand oral sex, able to tell him where to put his tongue and him actually do it. Able to tell him when she wanted actual penetration or just playing with her clit. She'd get to decide when she wanted to get fucked, whether it was hard or not, when to go slow, when to speed up. It wasn't something she'd enjoy on a regular basis, but it was a wonderful way to get her back into a normal headspace, and it was nice to be able to tell him what she wanted once in a while and have him comply. She decided a nap after her shower would be good, and maybe she would wait until tomorrow evening for her turn to call the shots.
* * * *
When it was time to return to work Victoria walked in fully rested and recharged, but many of her coworkers didn't seem to have fully recovered from their grueling week. She didn't tell them the secret, that you just needed to let the love of your life totally control you for a few days, take all of the weight of the world away from you and allow you to heal and recover physically, mentally, and emotionally. She had a few bruises on her ass, but they weren't that bad, and she would miss them when they were gone. She and Gordon had decided on a schedule that would put her in his hands, as his Pet, from Friday evening until noon Sunday about once every two months. If she had a work retreat near one of those times then it would be her decision, not his, whether the retreat recovery would replace the negotiated weekend.
Walking into the door at home after work she smelled something spicy and headed to the kitchen to see what he was cooking. "Oh good, you're home. The lasagna should come out of the oven in about fifteen minutes, let me get the bread into the oven and then I'd like a quick fuck while it finishes up. You might want to go take your clothes off and put them away while I finish with the bread. Hurry back, please.”
She walked to him, "A kiss, first."
He smiled and gave her a kiss, taking his time with it, taking control of her with the kiss.
She changed clothes and came back to him, bending herself over the table without being told. He'd asked for her to come back here, and that probably meant a fuck with her bent over the table. He walked behind her and put a finger into her, "Nice and wet. Perfect."
She felt him move his body behind her, felt his cock entering her, and groaned in pleasure at the feeling. He went in and held a moment, his hands on her hips, holding her in place. He gave a few short strokes, waited for her to move with him and give the sound that let him know she was ready, and then he let go, pounding her. Taking her. He hadn't been kidding about it being a quick fuck — it was over in about three minutes, but he made sure she came before he did, and he was thoughtful enough to come on her back instead of inside of her. He knew she hated to walk around with come dripping out of her, and he was usually considerate of that for their mid-day quickies. He used a wet paper towel to clean the come off of her back and then helped her stand, giving her another kiss and saying, "Thank you, that was just what I needed. Can you get the drinks while I pull everything out of the oven?"
She put a robe on and then got the silverware and napkins, opened a bottle of wine and poured some into two wine glasses. He placed a plate of steaming lasagna in front of her as she was sitting down, all sated from her orgasm. Did it get any better than this?
About Candace Blevins
Candace Blevins is a southern girl who loves to travel the world. She lives with her husband of 12 years, their two daughters, and Bandy the Wonder Dog. When not working or driving kids all over the place she can be found reading, writing, meditating, or swimming. Her favorite place in the world is home, second favorite place is Guilin, China. Candace speaks enough Chinese to manage okay in an airport, check into a hotel, order food in a restaurant, and shop. You can visit Candace at candaceblevins.com.
Mistress Audrey
By Giselle Renarde
I was just about to fold the laundry when there came a tap at the door. Who do you think was standing on the other side when I looked through the peephole? That’s right. It was Lawrence. Why would he knock? He had a key! Worse than that, he was four hours early. I scrambled to straighten up the place, but it was no use. I’d planned on greeting him in fishnets and the leather bustier I’d just bought, but, calisse, no time for that now. And yes, I had far too much lingerie as it was, but the little black corset had been marked down to ten dollars. How could I resist?
“I wasn’t expecting you until seven thirty,” I said, after unlocking the security latches and swinging open the front door. Something was wrong. I could tell by the bleak look on his face. He seemed older, somehow. Defeat resounded in his voice as he informed me he couldn’t stay.
“Excuse me?” I scathed. My tone was so frosty I could almost see little comic book icicles hanging off my words. It was Veronica’s response when Archie breaks a date and she just knows he’ll be going out with Betty instead.
“Ruth decided to stay home from the conference after all.”
Those words landed like a kick in the gut. Teetering over rage on one side and despondence on the other, I tried not to shout or whine. “But we were supposed to spend the whole weekend together…”
Saying the words destabilized me, tossing me clear off the tightrope. I couldn’t believe how enraged I was with Lawrence over something beyond his control. After all, it wasn’t his fault his wife planned to be away that weekend, then decided to stay home at the last minute. And who was I to feel angry towards Ruth? Wasn’t she the real victim in all this? But merde, this sort of thing happened every time we planned to be together. Every fucking time! I couldn’t get over it.
“I know. I’m sorry,” Law
rence mumbled, his gaze tracing the up-and-down, back-and-forth pattern of my parquet floors. He knew I was pissed. That’s why he wouldn’t look at me, like if he didn’t look at me I wouldn’t yell.
“Tabernac! We’ve been planning this for weeks, Lawrence. There are other things I could have been doing today, you know. I cancelled dinner with my brother and Susan to spend time with you.”
“How is your brother?”
“Don’t make small talk!” I fumed. I hated small talk. It was Lawrence’s method of getting me off-track. “We finally arrange a weekend together and you have to go and fuck it up. Every time, Lawrence! Do you remember what happened last time? You promised we would finally get to spend a whole night in the same bed. Do you remember what you did?”
Lawrence wasn’t looking at me. He was gazing at the basket of laundry in the middle of my living room. “I fell down the stairs,” he responded.
“You fell and split your head open and had to go to the fucking emergency room to get stitches. You drive me nuts, Lawrence. It’s self-sabotage! We’re never going to spend a whole night together, are we?”
“We will, just not this weekend,” he assured me. Of course, I didn’t believe him for a second. How could I?
My blood boiled over and became spite when it hit the air. Why did I have to feel so angry? So I couldn’t have what I wanted right away. Why couldn’t I just let it go? And then an unwelcome thought occurred to me. “Ruth didn’t really stay home from her conference, did she? You met somebody else…”
He looked somewhat disgusted as he cried, “No!”
“…and you’d rather spend the weekend with her than with me.”
“No! Audrey, listen to me,” he replied, kicking off his shoes and shuffling me over to the couch strewn with laundry. “I would never do that to you. I love you. I’m here right now because I love you and I wanted to tell you in person that I can’t stay.”
Can’t stay? Because he had to meet up with his new whore, perhaps? No, Lawrence would never do that to me. He wouldn’t. Although, Ruth probably thought the same thing and I knew for a fact he was cheating on her. I knew because he was cheating with me. And, ultimately, whether he was leaving my apartment to see some new chick or to go home to his wife, it all boiled down to the same sediment. Somebody else was more important than me. Somebody else was always more important than me.
From the clean laundry I’d planned on folding, I plucked a burgundy knee-sock. “You’re not going anywhere,” I said flatly. Pulling Lawrence’s Stratford Festival T-shirt over his head, I tied his wrists together in front of his body.
Lawrence laughed nervously as I unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly and let his Dockers fall to the floor. “I don’t really have time to make love today. I have to get home.”
My teeth clenched. My heart turned to ice. Those words, make love, grated on my nerves. Did Lawrence ever make love to me, or was it all just good old fucking? He was supposed to spend the weekend with me, and now he didn’t even have five minutes for a quickie?
“You think I want to make love with you, putain de chien?” I spat at my prisoner.
Confused as a kicked puppy, Lawrence retreated into himself. “Why would you call me that?”
“You don’t even know what it means!”
“I know it’s something bad.”
“You are such a maudit liar! You lie to your w—” Never could say that word, the w-word. “…to her about me, now you’re lying to me about this,” I said, pulling his black Jockeys to his ankles. The calm before the storm…
“I’m not lying,” he pleaded.
I believed him, but I needed some reason for my rage. How could I admit to being mad at Lawrence because he was married? I knew that from the moment we met, and I practically forced him into this arrangement. Well, yes, he wanted it too, but it took some convincing at first.
“Shut up!” I roared, forcing him down on the couch with his knees on the seat cushions and chest against the sofa back. Heading into my bedroom, I added, “A man who’s already cheating on his wife has zero credibility in the trust department.”
Stripping off my jogging pants and mint green sweater, I slipped into my thigh-high fishnets and black thong. I dressed up more for myself than for Lawrence, though I imagine he enjoyed it too.
“That’s different,” he implored from the next room. “There’s nobody else. There’s never been anyone but you.”
“Aside from your wife,” I replied acridly, chewing the plastic tag from my new leather garment. There was silence for a moment—a welcome change. Lawrence could be such a child at times.
“I love you, Audrey,” he bleated like a pathetic little lamb.
Whatever.
As I zipped up the bustier, I suddenly realized why it had been marked down to ten dollars from two hundred and ninety-five. Shit de merde, I couldn’t breathe! Why hadn’t I tried it on before buying? I zipped it down halfway. Still a little constrictive, but better.
“You have no idea how disappointed I feel,” Lawrence whined. “You have no idea how much I wanted to stay here with you tonight.”
I had no idea? How many years had I looked forward to any opportunity to spend a night together? Yes, the raw animal sex was incredible, but without being able to spend an entire night basking in the afterglow, there was something missing. Lawrence and I weren’t like other couples, and I was okay with that at first. But now? God, what I wouldn’t give to have a normal life with him. This was supposed to be our one weekend of living like a regular couple, and he had to go and destroy it! Just like last time. How did Lawrence always manage to ruin everything?
“Shut up!” I nearly sobbed, grabbing assorted sex toys and paraphernalia from the night table and returning to the living room. Why could I never come up with anything really cruel to say when I was angry? It tried to come up with some insult…
“I’m sorry,” he replied, eyes downcast as I strode by the sofa.
Lawrence drove me crazy with his incessant apologies. It was impossible to pick a fight with that man! Sometimes all I wanted was a good row, but he would never engage. My anger rolled off him like water from a duck’s back.
“I can’t stand you sometimes,” I said in a voice so deep and cold I couldn’t believe it was my own. “You’re like a toilet: I shit all over you and you just take it.”
The sides of Lawrence’s lips turned upward. Okay, I probably could have phrased that better. It was, at best, a failed attempt at cruelty. The naked man on my couch was obviously trying to contain his mirth, but I was not in the mood to be chortled at. “Look at my face, Lawrence. Do I look like I’m laughing? Because I’m not.”
His gaze rose from my parquet flooring, but didn’t make it to my face. It lingered over my fishnet-clad legs, then my black lace thong, but what really caught his attention was the leather bustier. Sure, I couldn’t breathe, but my boobs were bustin’ out all over! I’d always wanted to be a dominatrix, and Lawrence was in dire need of punishment.
“I said, look at my face!” I growled, on principle. I actually liked that he was staring at my tits. They were on the small side, so it didn’t happen all that often.
Guilty as a kid with his hand in the cookie jar, Lawrence gazed up and looked into my eyes. Had there been any hair on his beautiful bald head, I would have latched onto it and pulled. Instead, I walked around the sofa and soaked in the view. Lawrence still had a great ass left over from his marathon-running days. It was peachy, muscular, and tight, but with just enough give that, when my palm made contact with it, the flesh rippled for a moment.
Lawrence turned his head around as best he could, tied up as he was. “You hit me,” he whimpered, shocked at my violence.
“I spanked you. There’s a difference,” I said flatly. Inside I was bouncing off the walls, but my face was stone. I wouldn’t crack. When my palm fell once again against Lawrence’s ass, I kept an eye on his undecided cock. It jerked forward.
“Looks to me like you’re enjoying this,�
� I accused, warming his cheeks in circles with my hands. Standing directly behind Lawrence, I smacked both cheeks at once and his whole body jerked forward.
“Maybe. I don’t know,” he murmured. How was that for an uncommitted response? My hands travelled down his smooth ass-cheeks and through the tunnel of his spread thighs to find his cock rigid and ready. I squeezed it. Hard. The muscles in his thighs stiffened.
“You’re going to get your filthy pre-come all over my couch, putain de chien.” I said with a cruel grin. From the laundry basket on my floor, I plucked a bath towel and spread it out beneath his cumbersome form.
“You don’t need to call me names,” Lawrence objected.
“Don’t I, liar?” I asked, smacking his ass harder than before.
“Ow. I’ve never lied to you!”
“But you lie to your w…” I trailed off. Silence.
That’s when the clothes pegs next to my laundry hamper spoke to me. Pinching his flesh first between my fingers, I clamped a springy wooden peg onto each of his thighs.
“Ow!” Lawrence shrieked. “What are you doing to me?” His initial impulse was to rub the pegs together, but that only made them pull tighter on his skin. Silly rabbit.
“Clothes pegs, cheater!” I scowled.
“Oh,” he reacted, as though I’d come up with the idea all on my own and not seen it online. He didn’t tell me to take them off, so I clamped on two more pegs and watched the villain’s asshole twitch. I’ll get to you, my pretty…
I’d never bitten Lawrence before. His flesh was too taut to really chomp down on, but I got my point across by sinking my teeth into his ass. He pulled away, but didn’t get far. Then, without thinking, I kissed the hurt I’d created. I obviously wasn’t getting the hang of the whole dominatrix thing.