by Jamie Knight
Epilogue
Jonna
ONE YEAR LATER
Seth and I married in late spring, with all the warmth and colors nature could provide. Restrictions had lifted so that we were able to have an outdoor, socially distant wedding, in which the wedding party and all our guests wore masks. We set up folding chairs in two even rows before a movable flower arch.
An unforeseen advantage to the venue was the number of guests it allowed for, especially considering the sheer number of the guests who were there. Seth seemed to invite every member of every band he’d ever signed.
My side of the aisle looked dinky by comparison. They earned their keep, however, by helping out with decorations, programs and favors. And Seth’s side was equally eager to shower us with a summer festival’s worth of performances planned for the reception, each of the bands housed in the rented bandstand.
I knew most of them by sight, though everyone was on their best behavior, with even the Metal bands opting for tuxedos. I wouldn’t have missed their performances for the world. I loved their music; plus, the image of a Metal band dressed like a philharmonic was just too funny to pass up.
“Ready for this?” Stephanie asked, closing the tent flap behind her.
“Of course,” I told her.
I had never been more ready for anything in my life.
“Let’s go get ‘em, tiger,” she said, taking me by the hand.
I was really glad to have Stephanie as the Maid of Honor. It felt better knowing that she had my back, in every sense of the word.
There was no confusion about whether I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Seth, or ‘make it official.’ I just knew we would be together forever, and that getting married was the next natural and most wonderful step to take.
After all, we had already become parents together. It hadn’t taken long at all for Seth to put a baby in me, and for me to have him. And what a beautiful baby he was. Nine months had passed faster than I thought possible and by now we had been a family of three for an addition few months.
As the organ started up with an especially peppy rendition of the Bridal March, I took a breath and stepped out unto the breach. The tent flaps were held open by two groomsmen, recruited from the deep ranks of Metal bands.
My wedding dress moved around me like a cloud in a dream. In place of my usual collar, I wore a different one, made out of white satin to go with my dress, decorated with a 19th century cameo broach.
At the end of the green aisle, beneath an arch of orchids, my master waited, to make me truly his. Our newborn was currently being shared between his two sets of happy grandparents who sat in the front row.
My mind locked onto the presence of my sweet master, my mouth responding as though by rote as we went through our self-written vows. Right up until the kissing bit. My brain kicked right back into gear then, launching a fireworks display behind my eyes.
I remained engaged through much of the reception, even during the speeches, which went on a bit. Everyone who spoken on Seth’s behalf seemed to have nothing but good things to say about him, mostly in reference to times he saved them from their own stupid decisions. One got the feeling that at least half the wedding party wouldn’t be alive were it not for Seth’s friendship and willingness to be DD whenever they needed a ride.
The drinks and food portion ended and then everyone convened at the bandstand for the dancing and carousing portion of the festivities.
It was even more beautiful than I’d imagined. Not only did the bands more closely resemble a Frank Sinatra backing ensemble, but because of the limits of the venue, many of the rigs also tended toward the acoustic. There was nothing quite like hearing an unplugged version of Black Metal to make you feel even better about life on your wedding day.
“Have you seen Stephanie?” I asked Seth, as we cuddled near the front of our crowd of dancing guests.
“Yeah, a while ago; she was taking to Ragnar.”
“Ragnar? Is that some actor or something?
“No, no, Ragnar Karlssen. He plays drums in Loki’s Laugh.”
“Well, she did catch the bouquet,” I teased.
“Looks like there could be another wedding on the horizon.”
Our baby, whom we had named Casey, started to fuss, so I lifted him from his bassinet and held him close, gently rocking him back to sleep as Seth quietly sang to him. He still had a really nice voice, despite the years of dormancy. I wondered if he could still play bass, too.
Our little bundle returned to dreamland as Lords of Sacred Shadow took the stage, everyone falling silent as they started their set. Even the kids who had been running around and screaming started sitting down to listen, as if they had magnets in their butts.
Seth put his arms around me, and we held each other as they played, a sense of the beautiful and finite nature of mortality coming over us as the goosebumps rose on our arms.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, master,” I whispered, so that only he could hear.
Once we had returned Casey to the care of his grandparents, we went to the hotel that Seth had booked, which happened to be right across the street from our wedding venue. He was so sweet and knew that I wouldn’t want to ride the motorcycle back to his house, because I’d gotten a ride with Stephanie.
“It was amazing to see so many of my musician friends at once,” Seth said, as the elevator hummed around us.
“It sure was,” I told him. “It was almost like some kind of battle of the bands, or a big, combined concert.”
“I’m lucky to know so many talented people and to have had them all celebrate with us,” he remarked.
“You should write a book someday,” I told him.
“Who would want to read it?”
“Lots of people,” I said, taking his hand. “I know I would.”
Because I read everything about you that I could get my hands on, before I knew you, I thought.
But there were some things I wanted to keep to myself, even from my husband. It would always be my secret that I had had such a crush on him before I had ever even gotten the internship and before he had ever asked me to quarantine with him.
The elevator dinged for our floor and, as though taking it as a cue, Seth scooped me up into his arms, and held me close as he traversed the paisley carpeting. Even when we got to the door, he remained undaunted, finding a way to get the door unlocked and open without the need to set me down.
The next time I touched a solid surface after leaving the elevator was when he lay me down on the bed. He was careful to put me on my belly. Then one by one, he undid the hooks that were lined up down the back of my wedding dress, revealing my bare flesh beneath.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said. “I love looking at your curves. I love that you’re my wife now.”
“I feel so lucky that you’re my husband,” I told him. “You’re so sexy. And talented. And successful.”
I had been continuing to work for his label—our label, now—and it was expanding. It had a good reputation and was doing well financially. No one cared that Seth and I were together— but, rather, to the contrary, as evidenced by the number of guests from the label who had just attended our wedding, they were happy for us.
I hadn't worn any underwear under my wedding dress because my master had thought it better that I didn’t. As he carefully undressed me, until I was completely naked, I noticed the restraints already attached to the head of the bed.
“I know the manager,” my master said, noticing that I had realized the restraints were there and that he had been more than prepared much earlier than I had thought. “He let me come in a bit early.”
So, that explained it.
When Seth was finished unrolling my stockings, he caressed his hands up my legs, from my feet right up to my ass. Tenderly parting my cheeks with one hand, he removed the butt plug with the other.
It was still in there where he’d put it that morning. Stephanie hadn’t noticed as she helped me get in
to the dress, but she did find my lack of underwear a bit odd.
“You did beautifully, wearing that big butt plug all day, my pet,” he said, squeezing one of my ass cheeks. “How do you feel?”
“Relieved,” I admitted.
“Did it hurt?”
“No, it just got to be a bit much, especially on the car ride down.”
“But you kept it in this whole time?”
“Yes, my master,” I said, the words seeming to have even more weight.
“What a good girl. I’m going to have to do something very special to reward you.”
“You don’t have to reward me.”
“Yes, I do, and don’t argue with me, or I’m going to have to spank you.”
“I’ll be good.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
Giving my ass another tender squeeze, he set about fastening the restraints around my wrists and ankles. He tested them to make sure I couldn’t move and then reached over to the drawer, which I heard open.
I recognized the sound in the back of my mind. The distinctive snap of a bottle of lube coming open. He never used it when fucking me in the pussy before. We’d always gotten by with my natural lube after he ate me out. There was only thing he could have had in mind.
“Oh!” I gasped, as the cool lube dribbled into my nicely stretched ass.
Stroking my lower back with his free hand, my master worked the lube around inside me, making sure it got everywhere it was needed, while also helping it warm up faster.
Once the lube was properly applied, Seth wiped off the excess with a wet wipe from the box on the night stand and started lubing up his cock for good measure.
There wasn’t any getting around it. I was about to get fucked in the ass by my husband. Not that I would have stopped it for anything.
If I was going to do it with anyone, I wanted it to be my master, and if he thought it would feel good, then I trusted him.
It had been what we were training for this whole year, and now it was time to give him my anal virginity, on our wedding night.
His swollen head pressed against my stretched-out asshole, slowly working its way inside. It was honestly the head that was the most difficult part.
Once that was in, the rest was easy. Particularly because Seth didn’t go all the way. He had mercy on me, and only put in about a third of the considerable length of his cock.
Taking a moment to breath with me, and help me relax, he then started to move. He was rocking his massive cock inside my virgin asshole, claiming my anal cherry as I lay bound to our honeymoon bed, filling me with the most transcendent joy.
“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum in your asshole, wife,” Seth said, as I felt him throbbing and pulsing inside me.
He was rubbing my clit with his fingers while his big cock pounded my little asshole. It felt so good that I started coming along with him.
“Yes, yes, master!” I shouted, panting. “Yes, husband. Fuck my asshole. Cum in my asshole. Your big cock feels so good.”
As we came together, I could have sworn I was still in the best dream ever.
But I wasn’t. This was reality—my master Seth was now my husband, and he had claimed me as his. He had taken my pussy virginity and my ass virginity, and I was only ever going to be his.
No one could hurt us, not even Clara.
I would always be his pet but now I was also his wife, and he could play with my body and do whatever he wanted to me, now and always. But he could also whisper sweet nothings in my ear and tell me he loves me, after he squeezes my ass and fucks me with that big cock of his.
It was sweet, but it was also sexy. A mix of everything I could possibly dream up in my fantasy, but it was real life. Even in the midst of a pandemic, we had found love with each other and could handle whatever life threw at us.
We had each other, and we had our love of music, and our empire we were building together financially. Plus, we had our adorable little baby boy.
And I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
THE END
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Sneak Peek of Under My Boss’s Authority
The eighth collection in the Under Him series is Under My Boss's Authority, which contains Under His Ownership, Under the Countdown and Under Cupid’s Contract. Click here to read it.
Prologue - Julia
My roommate was unusually quiet that day, which was odd. It was Wednesday, and Charlie and I had just shared the largest jug of homemade cocktails she had ever made.
She and I had had a long-standing agreement for what happened after the weekly visit to the gym. We would sit ourselves up, sore and consistently exhausted, grab some margarita mix, a blender, a pinch of chili, her bag of special ingredients that no one was ever allowed to discover the secret behind, and a box of crushed ice.
The cold floors would excite our bare toes as we would gossip and whisper, in hushed tones, about the strangest things to have happened to both of us during the preceding week.
That day the topic had been boys.
‘Did you call him?’
‘No,’ I shrugged. The glass in my hands was numbing my fingers, so I set it down on the floor beside my knee. ‘He should call me first.’
‘Here we go, on and on again with your ego and pride.’
She sat flat on her bottom and crossed her ankles over each other and dunked a chunk of chocolate cookie into her tumbler. She sucked on a piece of it and went on.
‘Some day you will be that lady down the corner with a load of gerbils for pets.’
I pinched my nose up and smirked.
‘No way. They would know me as that lady with the doves.’
‘That doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t call the third man asking you out on a date and giving you his number in a month.’
‘If they wanted to badly enough, they would call me.’
‘I bet you told them about your scar.’
‘I did not!’ It felt necessary to get defensive. ‘Who gets that intimate on the first date?’
Charlie rolled her eyes and pushed her bra’s left cup to the side.
‘You do. You are such a sucker for the romantic. Maybe that’s why they don’t call back. You scare them off.’
I threw down a block of ice and bit it. It cracked at the top, then slowly, as I licked around it with my tongue, it melted sweetly down my throat.
‘I’m gonna be in my room. You should take your time to reflect upon the strength of your bra cups.’
‘Or I could just get my wand out and get freaky right here.’
‘Gross,’ I laughed, as I went to my room. ‘Do that on your own time. In your room. Or at Cedric’s.’
I could hear her scoff from my bedroom door.
‘If he ever did see me doing that, I would have so much explaining to do.’
‘Then just don’t,’ I shouted over the blast of music from my speakers. I turned the dial down and leaned against the door. ‘Seriously, don’t. You can thank me later.’
I shut myself in and fell into the brown bean bag in the corner of my room. My mind was in a state of disarray, and I was worried.
It had been three months with no response from all the resumes I had sent out. Three months with no work. Making money as a temp was ideal when I landed headfirst in the middle of New York. The flair and flamboyance of the city lights and the simmering street food made a maudlin life feel exceptional.
It took me some time, but I got there. The lights faded and reality set in. Making less than minimum wage while stuck in a basement office was
not good for me. I had saved up.
The well was still drying up, though. I chose dog walking as a thin, emaciated weekend cash cow. It kept some of the lights on, at least.
My phone blinked. I picked it up and scrolled once.
It was an email. I went through it and ran fast, on my knees first, then up on my feet. I burst through my door and ran to my red-faced and sweaty-cheeked roommate.
‘Charlotte, I got the job!’
‘Congratulations,’ she said, deflated.
I saw the object behind her back and winced. The blanket was covering her lap.
‘Oh, gosh, I am so sorry.’
‘No, it’s fine.’
‘If I knew, then I would have...’
‘It’s okay, Julia. Please. Just… I’ll be out in a minute, okay?’
‘Okay.’
I leaned against the wall and laughed heavily. I felt my ribs. I heard my bones crack. I was happy.
The job of a lifetime had just come to me, right when I needed it. Julia Cast was going to be the next best thing!
I briskly walked away after the sound of overworking batteries behind her door hit my ears.
***
It was April, I can best think, when I walked through those doors for the seventh time. Charlie had dressed me up, well, overdressed was more like it, for my fifth day on the job. The pink and white-hemmed skirt hugged my toned thighs.
There was a soft touch to the cotton blouse I wore; it had just the right amount of cut under my collarbone to be decent and subtly sexy.
My hair was looped in a tight bun behind my head, and smelled of fresh lemongrass hairspray. She had made sure nothing would stop me from getting my fist through the glass ceiling, and the set of thin white pearls dangling below my neck were sure proof of that.
‘Don’t you dare come back if you get mugged,’ she had said while clicking the clasp behind my neck. ‘My mother did not sail all the way to the Americas with this as her only possession for her daughter’s friend to lose them.’