by Kira Barker
Due to my work schedule, we had to leave hours before I was ready to return to the real world. A strange kind of nostalgia spread through me and seemed to be catching, judging from the fact that neither of the guys was very chatty on the way back to the car. I didn’t say so out loud, but I was sure that we were all sharing the sentiment—life would be perfect if things could always be like this.
Almost at the car, Simon pulled me to the side and nodded for Jack to go on. I eyed him askance, not quite sure what this was about, and for a second there, he seemed almost hesitant.
“I know that this is likely a redundant question, and for once, do me the favor of not taking everything too personal, okay?”
“What is it with you guys and asking me not to hit you today?” I tried to diffuse the sudden tension between us, but Simon’s deadpan look made me shut up instantly.
“I’m going to ask you this only one last time, because by now you’ve likely made up your mind either way. Do you want to be my submissive, including everything that entails?”
The question hit me kind of out of the left field.
“Why wouldn’t I want to?”
He shrugged, and it wasn’t exactly comfortable.
“If I consider your reactions today and compare them to how you act when there’s something limiting you, I’m not entirely sure what to make of it.”
I didn’t know what to make of that, either, but tried not to get offended on the spot, and not just because he’d asked me not to.
“Simon, I love having sex with you and Jack. If what you’re trying to say is that today felt a lot more natural than our first threesome, I agree, but I think that’s because today neither I nor Jack were second-guessing everything we did, but just let go and enjoyed ourselves. But that doesn’t mean I like this more than being in the playroom with you. We’re just getting started, and while you’re kind of a pro at this, it’s damn fucking new to me, and I feel like I’m suddenly caught out on a sheet of ice, scrambling to get my footing while trying not to fuck things up every which way possible.”
He nodded and offered me a small smile.
“It’s okay, and while I think you perform best if I make you push yourself the hardest, I’m always willing to take it a bit slower.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary. Or good for my sanity, if it means more lessons like the one yesterday.”
That made him snort, but he didn’t say anything about that likely not happening again.
“Good. I’m not saying that I didn’t thoroughly enjoy myself today, but I can’t deny that I can’t wait to have you kneeling at my feet again.”
I remained silent, not sure if he’d appreciate a snarky comeback right there, or if that would just doom me all over again. Simon seemed a little befuddled, but then shrugged it off.
“I intend to step up the game a little bit. I know, at the beginning of our arrangement I promised not to interfere with your life, but I think that you will benefit from being a little shaken up sometimes, so let’s give this a try. I expect you to tell me the moment this gets too overwhelming, or our schedule doesn’t work out for you anymore.”
I nodded, feeling a jitter of excitement come alive inside of me.
“Good. The general idea is that you come over twice a week, with several days in between for you to catch up on other things. I’ll share my schedule with you and let you pick the days for now, but I expect you to hold yourself to that rhythm. If you can’t make it because something comes up, no problem. I’m happy to give you some homework instead if it’s no more than every third time or so. You can always crash at my place, day or night, so just running late won’t be cause to flunk on me. I’ll keep any activities outside of the playroom to a minimum unless you provoke me, and unless you protest, I don’t mind switching a few of our sessions for hanging out with Jack, if either of you starts to feel lonely.”
“That’s a euphemism, right?”
“It is,” he agreed, grinning.
“I’m so not opposed to that idea.”
“Thought so. Back to what only concerns us. When you get home tomorrow, I want you to make a few lists for me. I’m not necessarily going to use them, but I value your input, and no one can set you up for failure as well as you yourself.”
Now that sounded ominous.
“What lists?”
“First, one list of possible rewards and punishments. Those should be self-explanatory. Be honest, and don’t hold back. I’ll soon know if you pick something that’s not really fitting.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged.
“Rewards should be easy. Being allowed to come, for instance. But it doesn’t have to be pleasant things only. I would more regard it as a list of strong preferences. Something that gets you off, something that you’d rather take than something else, something that makes you feel like you’re getting a treat when I feel like you’ve earned it. Punishments, the opposite, and obviously your truthfulness is even more important here. Mind your limits, but don’t be afraid to think of something that might even end up pushing you over that boundary. Think about it as your extended least-favorites list. Remember when I told you that a lot about BDSM is like conditioning? Those are the things you’ll try to avoid at all costs, but they should be reasonable things. If I feel like none of them hit even close to the mark, our next session will consist of me going through that list, and once we’re done, I’m sure you can think of better items.”
Even though his sadistic smile scared me a little, it also did a lot to make me look forward to being at his mercy again, if not necessarily provoke that scenario.
“Okay. What else?”
“I also want you to think about what we’ve done and what you want to do, and write down a list of about five points you want to work on or improve. Your obedience comes to mind when I think about that, but it can be something completely different, too. Things we haven’t tried, things where you feel I stopped well before pushing your comfort zone, or if you feel agreeable, something you think I might enjoy doing to you. Just don’t make it about that altogether, or this will throw off our dynamic.”
“Is that even a possibility? This makes me sound really selfish, but if it’s my wish list, why should it be all about you?”
He gave me a look that made me consider putting “be less selfish” on that list, but he sounded more amused than annoyed as he replied.
“There are subs like you who don’t have a problem with that. Adrenaline junkies, pain sluts, bondage whores, also in for the mental kick, but usually reaching for physical limits when prompted. And then there are the subs who above all aim to please their Masters, completely forgetting that in all their selflessness they overcomplicate things because none of us are mind readers. Try to hit the balance between the two extremes, and you should be in the green. I want you to keep that list updated whenever you think of something new. I don’t have to factor it into my plans, but I might, if I feel generous.”
“Generous like you felt yesterday?” I asked, half-teasing, half-afraid.
Simon snorted.
“What’s a few hours spent squirming in exchange for feeling a lot more secure about what you want to do and what you can take? And correct me if I’m wrong, but you reaped the benefits of holding out so long more than once today.”
I had to admit that he was right, and after a moment of petulance did so, too.
“Good. One last point now that that’s settled.” He looked at me intently until I stopped to fidget, holding my attention completely. “Starting right now, I don’t want you to wank at all. Any orgasm you have will be sanctioned by me. If you really can’t stand it anymore, feel free to call or text me, but I won’t let you come just because you get impatient. If you make it to our two sessions a week, you should walk away satisfied enough to tide you over until the next, and if not, homework will usually entail one orgasm at the end. Of course, you can always ask for some kind of bargain. If you prove to me that you deserve to com
e more often, I might feel like granting you that release.”
“Prove it how?”
“Small tasks, or giving up part of your freedom. For instance, if you chose not to wear panties for a week, I might reward that with an orgasm or two on the side, taking into consideration that you’ll likely feel like you’re under my thumb a lot more often than if you didn’t change anything about your routine. Or you do some chores, say, like cleaning your apartment with a butt plug firmly lodged in your ass, and every ten minutes you kneel down and rub yourself almost to a climax before you continue cleaning, until the work is done. I don’t have to be in the same room for you to curse me into the next century inside your head.”
That did not deserve a reply so it didn’t get one, but it made me realize that this could range a lot farther than I’d calculated. Considering how fucking horny I’d been last night, it was only a matter of time until I would have to resort to something like that.
“Nothing that will jeopardize my attention at work.”
“All those extra tasks are for you to decide, or pick and veto if you can’t come up with a good suggestion for a bargain yourself. I have no intention of making you do any of that. It all comes down to your willpower versus your eagerness.”
I wondered if this was more than I had bargained for, but the way my muscles clenched at just considering this, I didn’t think I could tell him to go fuck himself with a straight face. So there was nothing left for me but to agree.
“I’ll email you my schedule for the next month and expect your reply no later than Sunday midnight.”
With that sorted out, we followed Jack to the car, but I held Simon back just before we got there.
“So no wanking at all? I don’t even get tonight as a kind of transitional period?”
His smile was barely more than a humorless showing of teeth.
“You can get into the car completely naked and spend the entire way back to the city making yourself come over and over again, if you really need to.”
I considered that option for only a moment.
“Nah, I think I’m good with coming a crazy five times or so today.”
“Thought so,” he snorted, then gave me a push toward the passenger seat.
Jack looked from one of us to the other but didn’t say anything, just shook his head. Considering I did none of this to please him, I really didn’t give a shit about his opinion. With luck, none of that would ever become a problem.
Chapter 11
After the changes Simon had introduced on Saturday, I expected life to get, if not difficult, at least annoying, but it was Monday by the time I felt the first sting of that no-wank rule, and then it was only eighteen hours until our next planned session. Work kept me busy, and between other social obligations and trying to catch up on quality sleep, there wasn’t much time for me to grow overly frustrated.
The sessions in the playroom itself went down without much ado for the most part, and with fewer hiccups than either of us seemed to have expected. I managed to mess up a few times but never enough to do more than annoy Simon, and while he picked up the pace, he did so slowly enough that I didn’t even think about my safeword once. I did have to take two rain checks over the course of the next month, though, and when the third happened in the same week as the second, things got a little frustrating on my part. Bargaining really wasn’t my thing, and the lives we kept outside of the playroom didn’t really lend themselves to reliable real-time communication, so the following week Simon proposed a change.
By then, things had picked up a lot on the physical side, and more than once I’d needed a couple of minutes to stretch aching muscles back into cooperation after restrictive bondage. This time he suggested that, whatever else we’d do in that scene, some form of impact toy should round up the end. For every set of fifty hits I took without begging for mercy, he’d grant me one orgasm, stackable up to five orgasms per session, for a week to use up on my own discretion outside of our scenes. If we made it to two scenes a week, the countdown would reset, but for every unused orgasm he’d give me the chance to earn one extra for another fifty hits.
The first time he went at me with a light flogger, and I hit the mark easily. The second time he used a heavy flogger, but I still made it to seven times. Two weeks later my ass ended up with actual dark bruises that hadn’t faded until the next session, but ten freebies were added to my list, and that was when he declared that my scoreboard would get reduced to zero if I didn’t make it to at least the count of the previous session.
That day was the first time he got out one of the canes, a sturdy, heavy thing at that, and I left the attic humbled, my score reduced to zero until the week after.
One might have guessed that an experience like that would have left me scared of that most elegant of impact toys, but the opposite was the case. Sure, my respect for all things that came with a thud rather than a sting was renewed, but by then I’d accepted that Simon made a game out of confronting me with obstacles that my competitiveness could handle with ease. The next time he got out the exact same cane, I finally made it back to my five freebies, two of which I spent that very evening after dragging my sore and sorry ass back home. It was also the day the cane got its first mention on both my reward and goals lists.
As the weeks went by, Simon and I fell into an easy pattern, but things didn’t really change for us outside of the playroom. Right after a scene I sometimes had problems acclimating for a while, but those were usually the days when he stuck to me like glue, soaped up my back in the shower, and once even tried to cook me dinner, a catastrophe thankfully averted when Jack got home early and called the pizza delivery service. Those days were also when I noticed that Jack was a little at a loss for how to behave around me, but usually curling up on the couch between the guys as we watched a movie together did the trick.
We didn’t manage to stage a third instance of a threesome, mostly because I was working the entire weekend blocks to have breathing space during the week, and those were the only days when Jack had time himself. He didn’t seem too annoyed about it, though, and on some level I was quite happy that I wasn’t confronted with regarding Simon as something else than my Dom in a sexual setting. What had been strange the first two times until that lesson, and a little tedious in the following weeks, soon became second nature, at least for the set time span we spent in the play room. I still fought him tooth and nail whenever he pushed me—and push me he did with almost every session—but giving in never felt like defeat anymore and was usually rewarding on a deeper level.
Unfamiliar as it felt at first, I liked that sensation of being at his mercy, and while I didn’t exactly crave it yet, there were times when it was like a buffer of comfort at the back of my mind. It helped that he never overstepped my limits, and while he never passed up a chance to one-up himself and get that extra bit of yielding from me out of a scene, he always rewarded my cooperation. More weeks than not, earning my freebies was more about proving to him that I could rather than needing that little bit of freedom, and more than once I considered giving up that option altogether.
I felt good in my role as his sub, not only physically fulfilled, but mentally strengthened, and I felt like it was starting to show, judging from people’s reactions. More than one nurse remarked that I seemed a little less strung out although I worked extra hours whenever possible, and when I didn’t bite off the head of one of my interns when he completely botched a diagnosis, even Zoe showed herself impressed, which, for her, meant she didn’t bite my head off in turn. Kara stopped needling me about the mystery guy I was obviously screwing, but I had a feeling that she hadn’t given up the hunt for him yet. Jack I kept happy with a constant supply from the bakery next to the hospital, earning his goodwill and cooperation whenever he had to field calls—mostly from Kara, some from Simon’s work-related contacts—while we were at it.
In short, life was awesome, if a little extra painful at times. I would have been so happy if that streak of luck co
uld have gone on forever.
Then the inevitable happened, and things started to go bad in the worst kind of ways.
It was a typical Monday for me, which, unlike most people in the country who suffered greatly under their first day of work after the free weekend, meant I was fielding the fifth shift in the space of time where three would have been the sane maximum allowed. I’d been feeling a little off before the weekend already and had taken a rain check on our usual Thursday session, and when I hit the bathroom at noon after fighting for a little boy’s life for six hours straight, I realized that the reason I’d felt like shit since morning was that my period had set in, a comfy five days ahead of schedule but packing some extra punch, just for fun. With any other guy, I would have canceled, but the way everything was coming down at me at once, I felt like I needed that session tonight more than I needed oxygen to breathe. So I checked back with Simon, explaining the situation as much as it was possible in a sequence of 140 characters, and he told me to just come over after my shift, and he would work something out.
During the afternoon, info came down from Intensive Care, letting me know that my patient hadn’t made it, and I was ready to just curl into a fetal position and rock in the corner until exhaustion would pull me under.
Coincidence had it that Jack hopped onto the same train I was riding in, and by the time we made it to their front door, he had convinced himself that the sane thing was to just grab some food and spend a comfortable evening in front of the TV. One look at me, and Simon agreed with him.
I did not.
Ten minutes later my knees hit the floor of the playroom, and for the first time, my mind didn’t clear, and also didn’t shut up when Simon bound my arms behind my body, tied my calves to my thighs in a spread kneeling position, shoved a vibrator into my vagina and put it on high before he strapped it in with yet more rope, and got the cane from its rack.