by Dahlia West
“On, my! What a beautiful piece!” she said, indicating the necklace.
Abby absentmindedly touch the metal that had been warmed by her skin. “Thank you,” she replied. “It was a gift. And I’d like to get something in return for him.”
The saleswoman nodded and swept her arm toward a glass display case behind her. “Of course. What did you have in mind, dear? Perhaps cuff links or a watch. We have some beautiful Piagets or-”
Abby smiled as she tried to picture Mark wearing cuff links or a designer watch. The man had good taste when he shopped for her, but he kept his own appearance low-key. She shook her head. “Oh, no,” she told the woman. “I need something more personal.”
“Personal? An engraved-”
“Wedding band,” Abby finished. “A man’s wedding band. And yes, I’ll need it engraved.”
The woman’s eyes flitted to Abby’s left hand and she frowned. She was probably attempting to gauge Abby’s budget based on her engagement ring, but she came up befuddled after realizing Abby wasn’t wearing one.
“That’s next on the list,” Abby assured her.
The woman pressed her lips together obviously hiding a frown. Abby got the impression that she didn’t quite know what to make of a woman who put the cart before the horse, so-to-speak. Perhaps she thought the younger generation had no understanding of the proper order of things. Whatever the saleswoman thought, the hint that Abby would at some point be needing a second ring to accompany the first appeared to be all the encouragement she needed to try and close the sale.
“A wedding ring,” she declared. “Yes.” She led Abby to a different display case. “And if I may inquire, when is the happy occasion?” She was no doubt wondering if both commissions could be collected anytime soon.
“I don’t know,” Abby said peering into the case. “He hasn’t said yes yet.”
The woman’s eyes few wide as she stared at Abby. “Right. And…” She seemed to be searching for just the right response. She settled on, “Budget?” She winced as though asking the question so directly was painful to her, but given that conversation up to this point had so completely derailed the woman, Abby didn’t blame her.
“No budget,” she replied. “But it has to be perfect.”
“Oh, absolutely!” she agreed, enthusiastically now that she found herself on more familiar ground and with a fat commission looming large. “Diamonds?” she suggested. “Channel set?”
Abby shook her head. Mark wouldn’t care for stones. “No,” she said. “Nothing flashy.”
The salesclerk’s hopes appeared to be a little dashed as the corners of her mouth slid down, but she soldiered on. “What kind of man is he? Refined, elegant?” she asked no doubt looking at Abby and trying to guess who a woman in a pressed linen suit would be dating.
“Ex-military,” Abby told her. “He’s a mechanic now.”
Abby suppressed a grin as she watched the woman desperately trying to sort out the puzzle that was Mark and Abby’s relationship.
Keep trying, lady, Abby thought. I’ve been trying for months and I don’t have it all figured out yet. Abby may not have had their relationship completely figured out, but she knew she wanted it forever. Her eyes settled on a band on the top shelf of the glass case. “I’d like to see that one.”
The woman unlocked the case, slid the glass to the side, and plucked out the dark gray box housing the gold ring. She handed it over and Abby took it out of the box and held it in fingers. It was polished gold on the inside but the outside was hammered. As she twirled it in her fingers, she realized that it reminded her of Mark, polished and shiny but with so many angles that you never knew which direction he’d head next. It looked rough but smooth, beautiful but masculine, everything Mark was when she thought about him.
“It’s a treasure,” said the saleswoman as Abby rubbed the pad of her finger along the outside. Abby assumed that meant it was designer and expensive, neither of which mattered to her.
“I’ll take it,” she nearly whispered. When she looked up the woman was smiling at her. “And I’ll need it engraved,” Abby reminded her.
The woman reached for a small pad and pen. “And the inscription?”
“Love, Honor, Obey.”
The woman’s smile widened. “Well,” she said. “It’s so nice to see young people with such traditional values.”
Chapter 3
Abby sat at her desk going over expense reports when there was a knock on her office door.
“It’s open,” she called.
Susan, one of The Custer’s full-time front desk receptionists, stepped in with a flat, cardboard box tucked under her arm. “Delivery,” Susan told her. “Addressed to you.”
The brunette looked puzzled. Abby understood why. She never received personal correspondence at work. This break from the norm had the woman’s interest piqued.
“Thanks, Susan,” Abby replied, standing to take it from her.
“Is it for your private party? Because Lucas says the champagne you specially ordered will be on tomorrow’s delivery truck.” She handed Abby a yellow post-it note confirming the message from The Custer’s head bartender. This no doubt confused Susan further because The Custer already offered champagne service to its more distinguished guests. Though not too long ago, before Abby had… bought… the historic hotel, “champagne service” had meant something far different.
Abby was certain that the slightly older woman didn’t suspect her of any particularly shady business dealings, but Susan was always keenly aware of anything out of the ordinary. Just to dispel any concerns, and because she was so excited, Abby picked up the silver letter opener on her desk and laid the package down. She slit the tape and opened it.
Several yards of lace tumbled from the box as Abby gently lifted it out. Susan gasped. “Venetian lace,” Abby told her. “It’s a tablecloth. And, yes, it’s for the party I booked in the ballroom.”
It was beautiful, more intricate and exquisite than it had even appeared in the catalog she’d ordered it from.
“It’s gorgeous!” Susan proclaimed. “God, you must be celebrating something really important.”
Abby simply nodded. She wanted their dinner to be perfect. She normally didn’t splurge on big-ticket items, especially not Venetian lace tablecloths, but afterward she could use it at the house for a formal place setting in their own dining room if they ever needed it. It was really just one more small way she’d transform Mark’s home into their home. So far Mark had been one hundred percent supportive of Abby adding her own personal touch to the place. She’d picked a few pieces of furniture and had hung several of her favorite photos of the Nevada desert. She carefully folded the fabric and gently placed it back in the box. As she was re-placing the lid, the phone began to ring. Susan excused herself as Abby rounded the corner of her desk and picked up the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Pet.”
Abby’s pussy instinctively contracted as if begging for the smooth, beautiful cock that belonged to that smooth, beautiful voice.
“Sir,” she whispered, already breathless. She was keenly aware of the plug in her ass as she waited. Mark only called her ‘pet’ during playtime and in the ensuing months since they’d started dating, as if that was even the right word, just hearing it on his lips meant dark and fascinating things were going to happen. The man had more tricks up his sleeve than Houdini. All of them were sexual and nearly all of them ended with Abby having an earth-shattering orgasm. Then again, sometimes the orgasm was the foreplay.
“We have plans tonight,” he informed her.
Abby licked her lips nervously. Sometimes the plan for Friday night was simply hanging out at Maria’s. Sometimes, however, Tex wanted to stay home and play. She could guess which he had in mind.
“And tomorrow,” he said surprising her. “So pack an overnight bag.”
Abby listened as he told her to go home and shower and put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. “Be comfortable,” he sai
d.
She sighed in relief. She didn’t know what Mark had in mind, but if he wanted her comfortable then that was a good sign. It meant nothing too scary or nerve wracking.
“You don’t have to pack your play collar,” he said, surprising her yet again as well as disappointing her a bit too, honestly. “But pet?”
There was silence over the line as he waited… patiently… always patiently, sometimes maddeningly so.
“Yes, Sir?”
“Don’t forget the red dress.”
Abby’s stomach knotted. She swallowed hard. “Yes, Sir.”
“I’ll be home on time.”
She replaced the receiver and took ten deep breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth, just the way he’d taught her to do when she was on the verge of being overwhelmed. She didn’t need him to tell her that she was in for another intense training weekend. The first one had nearly ended their relationship just as it was getting started, but they were both comfortable and more familiar with each other now. Mark would push her, always, but not too far.
Abby arrived home on time as well. She laid her purse on the hallway table and made her way into the bedroom where she slipped out of her business suit. Naked, she headed to the bathroom door down the hall. Before she’d met Mark, Abby would never have wandered nude outside the bathroom of her own apartment, even when she was alone. She’d never been all that comfortable with nudity, which was one the first things Mark observed about her and set about changing.
When Abby had her play collar on she was nude at all times, unless Mark had some special lingerie picked out for her. The fact that he usually kept his own clothes on until they were ready for sex constantly reinforced their respective roles. It had taken a while for her to get comfortable with it as she’d always been curvier than she would have liked, however, Mark’s constant interest in her went a long way to dispel most of the doubt that had overshadowed her. She had no problem disrobing at his request, but this compliance had never been tested outside their home. Which was not to say that Abby and Mark never played away from home. They did, often. She’d lost count of the number of blow jobs she’d given him in darkened store parking lots or the times he’d fingered her to orgasm while they were at the movies, but none of that had involved actual nudity. Abby wasn’t certain what this weekend would bring, but she knew Mark was growing tired of Abby’s poor body image and lack of self-esteem.
She fought back the urge to speculate and instead simply focused on getting ready for their weekend. She let the water heat up in the shower as she laid out her bathroom essentials. In addition to Mark’s rules concerning her behavior, Abby also had a grooming regiment. Any time she was home she needed to be ready for play, even though they didn’t have sessions every night. Abby needed to keep her pussy smooth, along with her legs. She had a standing wax appointment, but occasionally Mark shaved her himself. He told her it deepened their bond and Abby could see that it did. It took a lot of faith to expose your most sensitive areas to someone with a sharp object. At first she’d been overwhelmed at having him do that to her, but now she preferred it.
Mark took his time, gingerly stretching and manipulating her folds. His hard thumb protecting her clit always drove her crazy. Looking back, Abby nearly laughed at how unimportant being shaved by a man was, compared to the other things he could, and would, do to her. She laid out her self-enema kit and decided that, yes, there were other, more difficult things to overcome. As part of his ownership of her, he demanded use of all her holes at a moment’s notice. Abby soon realized it was just part of Mark’s psychological makeup. No part of her was denied to him and therefore he possessed her completely.
She cleaned herself thoroughly, outside as well as in, and stepped out of the shower to towel off. Before slipping on a clean pair of lace panties, she thoroughly washed and lubed her stainless steel plug in the sink and re-inserted it. She’d grown accustomed to wearing it several times a week and now had no trouble with it. It was not the largest of the set that Mark had bought solely for her, but Abby had no fear that he would ever use that one on her. Mark liked her tight and responsive, the plug she wore almost daily was purely for her benefit so that penetration wouldn’t hurt her.
She had just stepped into her panties and was pulling them up over her hips when the bathroom door opened. Mark stepped in and assessed her shrewdly. Without a word he crossed the room and drew her to him. Her back was to him and her damp hair pressed against his shirt. He took hold of her hip with one hand and dipped his other hand into her panties. Abby leaned against him and closed her eyes. His fingers swept over her tingling skin and her heartbeat quickened, but only from arousal. Mark knew she was a good girl. She always kept herself bare. He would find nothing displeasing down there. She had a feeling he knew, too. He just liked touching her. He slid his hand around the back and felt for the plug. Abby gasped as he tugged on it.
“Good girl,” he said quietly as he nuzzled her ear.
He took hold of both her breasts and squeezed gently, his fingers plucking her nipples into hard points. “I want these pierced, Abby.”
He used her name deliberately. It wasn’t an order. It was just a statement of what he desired. Her body was ultimately her own, he’d told her. Any permanent modifications were up to her.
It wasn’t the first time they’d discussed it. She’d been researching it for a few weeks and rolling the idea around in her mind. Now that she’d had a few weeks to mull it over, she was comfortable with the idea. “Okay.”
Mark paused. “Yeah?”
She nodded and met his eyes in the mirror. “But not the clit,” she said. “It’s too risky.” Abby was willing to take a chance with her nipples. She thought the jewelry options were beautiful and strangely erotic, but there was a risk of losing sensation and she refused to take the chance that she might lose her ability to orgasm as exquisitely as she could and often did with Mark.
He smiled at her. “Fair enough. Thank you.”
He released her after a hug and stripped down out of his work clothes. Abby leaned against the counter to watch. Mark was gorgeous with sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. His body was chiseled and hard, the US Special Forces tattoo on his forearm standing out against his bronzed skin. Abby sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and chewed on it as he lowered his briefs. She caught sight of the curve of his ass and let out a sigh.
He smirked at her over his shoulder. “Down girl,” he ordered and she laughed. “You’ll get an eyeful soon enough,” he told her. “Now go pack while I shower.”
“Where are we going?”
He lifted an eyebrow at her.
Abby raised her hands in a warding off gesture. “I’m not asking what we’re doing,” she clarified. “I’m just asking where we’re doing it. For strategic packing purposes.”
“We’re driving to Sioux Falls and spending the night at the Blakemore.”
“Ooh, swanky.”
Mark shrugged and opened the shower door. “Yeah, but we won’t be in the hotel much,” he said cryptically.
Abby tamped down on her desire to ask why. She didn’t want to spend the whole four hour drive to Sioux Falls sitting on a red ass. She left the bathroom and headed toward the bedroom wondering what there was to do in Sioux Falls, anyway.
Chapter 4
They checked into the hotel and headed up to their room. Abby grinned at the large Jacuzzi that took up most of their bathroom. She looked at Mark, but he shook his head. She pouted. “I didn’t pick the hotel for the Jacuzzi, pet,” he informed her. “We might get in it later, but we have more interesting things to do tonight.” She watched as he unzipped their garment bag and he took out the red dress. She tried to hide her scowl. The dress was tight. It clung to her hips and Abby thought it made her ass look too big. It didn’t help that her cleavage was on display, either. If she bent over in it, something would pop out, most likely on both ends. Mark loved the dress though and she knew there was no getting out of wearing it.
>
As she took it from him and laid it across the bed, she wondered for perhaps the tenth time where they were going. Before they had met, Mark had often visited a fetish club here in South Dakota’s largest city. Abby was equally curious and terrified at the imagined goings on at a place like that. Mark had assured her early on in their relationship that the club wasn’t really a place for a sub like Abby. She was likely to be too distracted, too nervous, and it would be a disaster for both of them. She wouldn’t be able to concentrate on his instructions in a place like that and he’d be obligated to punish her. Abby had been secretly glad he had no plans to take her there, though where they were going tonight was anyone’s guess.
She fastened the straps to her black high heels and looked at herself in the mirror. She tugged at her hair, strategically placing it over bare cleavage. Mark came up behind her and swept it all back over her shoulders, giving her a pointed look. She opened her mouth to argue, but closed it again after looking at his expression. This was a training weekend and he expected her to obey, even without the collar. He took her hand and led her out of the relative safety of the hotel room and out into a darkened city she’d never visited before. Once in the Hummer, he drove them through downtown, past the small financial district and into an area with alternating late night bars that were open and industrial buildings that were closed. He parked in a parking lot that was filled with other cars, but Abby could find no sign on the door of the building.
Mark opened her door for her, took her by the hand, and led her away from the street and toward the darkened building. Her heels clicked sharply on the blacktop as she kept pace with him.
“What is this place?” she asked him, glancing around nervously. They were more than half a block from the busier commercial street with outdoor patios filled with people drinking microbrews.
Mark didn’t answer her as they approached a very large man, larger than Mark himself, wearing jeans and a black button down shirt. Clearly he was a bouncer, though to what kind of club Abby couldn’t tell. There were only two doors behind him, both of them were solid steel, and there were no windows all along the length of place.