by Tara Sue Me
My need for her grew, and the group’s troubles left my mind. “On your back with your ass at the edge of the bed.”
She rose gracefully and moved to the bed. Her hips swayed seductively and the curve of her ass begged me to spank it. I’d have to do that later. She climbed onto the bed and got into position. When we’d checked in, she mentioned how much she liked the white bedding. Personally, I thought it was ironic—all that pure white bedding as a backdrop for all the wicked things I would do to her body.
“Touch yourself,” I told her. “Are you still wet after being flogged?”
I could see she was, but I wanted to see her finger herself. I unbuckled my pants and stepped out of them.
“Look at me,” I commanded. I fisted my cock and gave it a few pumps with my hand. “Are you wet?”
“Yes, Master.” Her voice was heavy with lust and need.
“Being tied up and flogged turned you on.”
The evidence of her arousal was slick against her upper thighs. I wanted to taste her, but feared that might push her over the edge. She’d been holding back her orgasm for over an hour by now. I moved to stand between her legs and slipped two fingers inside.
“Hell, yes. Feel that. How wet you are.”
Her lower body strained with the effort to remain still. Just that small movement showed how much she trusted me. She purposely held off letting herself orgasm because she trusted me to let her come when I knew it would bring her the most pleasure. Even now, holding still, she did it because it was what I expected and she wanted to please me. And she knew in doing so, I would please her.
I removed my fingers and brought them up to her mouth. “Suck them. Prove how much you want me. How much you want my cock.”
She took me deep inside her mouth, running her tongue around and between my fingers.
With my free hand I cupped her breast and while she gave my fingers a hard suck, I pinched her nipple. “It’s been too long since I’ve had clamps on you. I think the next weekend the kids are gone, I’m going to have you go topless all day and every so often I’ll decorate you with clamps and then have you go about your day, your breasts marked for my viewing pleasure.”
Her soft moan told me she would like that.
“Maybe I’ll have you go topless to the next group meeting, wearing only my clamps.” I pinched her other nipple. “Or maybe I’ll use clamps with bells and then fuck you, so every time I push inside your pussy, they ring. Would you like that?”
“Yes, Master. Yes to both.”
I loved playing with her breasts. I wished I had my crop with me. It would be fun to flick the tip of the crop against her nipples. But, unfortunately, I hadn’t brought my toy bag with me for the weekend and all my implements were back in New York. I smiled. Good thing I knew how to improvise.
Instead I flicked her nipples with my fingers. It wasn’t expected and she gasped. Feeling slightly evil, I held one breast and flicked the nipple again and again.
“Oh, God. Oh, fuck,” she panted almost in time with my flicks.
Her positive response turned me on and I wanted to drive her even more out of her mind with pleasure. I brought my knee up to rest between her legs, pushing against her slightly, and she moaned at the unexpected sensation.
“You’re so wet. So needy.” I pressed it harder. “I bet I could make you come just like this.”
I moved my knee back and forth, making sure to hit her in different spots and every so often, rubbing her clit. Then I gave her nipple a flick with every stroke of her clit until she was writhing under me.
“I like watching you squirm. Rocking your body with the pleasure I give you. Makes me so hard. Fucking turns me on.”
I switched to her other breast and flicked that nipple, still pressing my knee where I knew it would drive her mad.
“That’s it. Push against me. Show me how much you need me to fill that pussy.” She wiggled against me, desperate for more. “You want it? You want my cock?”
“Yes. Please, Master.”
“Since you asked so nicely.” I put my foot back on the floor. I lifted her hips, brought them in line with my cock, and slowly eased into her.
Her breasts were red from my earlier attention. Mine. I loved taking her after a play session when my marks were still visible on her skin. Loved how it showed she was mine and mine alone and I would take her knowing she would never wear another man’s marks.
With that thought consuming my mind, I thrust into her completely. Fuck. So good competed with Mine, only and forever mine.
“Oh, my God. Yes,” she said, bucking upward to draw me deeper.
I held tightly to her waist and pulled out so only the tip of me was left inside. Because I still felt a little evil, I made shallow thrusts, bouncing the tip in and out of her.
She whined.
“Who decides how much cock you get?”
“You do, Master.”
“That’s right.” I pulled out completely and watched her struggle not to beg. To be even more mean, I took my cock in one hand and slapped it a few times against her clit. “Maybe I think that’s all the cock you’ll get. What about that?”
She gyrated against the bed. “Please.”
“Please more?” I rubbed my length along her slit and across the sensitive bundle of nerves there. Then I ended it with another handful of slaps. “How long do you think I can torment your little clit until you come?”
“Not long, Master.” Her eyes captured mine and I saw how hard she was working to hold back her climax.
“I think you’ve been a very good girl today. So I’m going to give you all of my cock.” I put the head right at her entrance again. “All at once,” I said, driving into her fully.
“Damn.” Her eyes fluttered shut. “Fuck. Me.”
“Come when you want.”
I pulled out and thrust over and over, going deeper inside with each forward motion into her body. She arched her back and pushed her hips toward mine, in time with me, drawing me even farther inside.
“I never want to stop being inside you.” I thrust again. “There’s nowhere else my dick would rather be.”
Her climax shook her body on my next push into her.
“Such a good girl. Coming all over my dick.” I took some lube I had put on the bed earlier and squeezed it over a finger. “I want you to come again.”
“Oh God. Oh God. Oh God,” she chanted as I pushed a finger into her ass.
“It’s only a finger,” I said. “Not nearly as big as a cock. Of course, when I do this …” I hooked my finger a bit so it stroked me as I moved within her. The feel of her inner walls separating my cock and finger was amazing. I could only imagine how it felt for her. “I feel my cock fucking your pussy.”
She was lost in sensation and bliss. Pleasure filled her eyes. I added a second finger.
“Maybe I’ll fuck your ass and finger my cock through your pussy.”
At my words, she gave a lazy nod. I thrust deeper inside.
“I’m going to come,” she whispered.
“Yes, you are.”
Her second climax was just as intense as her first. As her inner muscles squeezed me, I knew I couldn’t hold back any longer. I gasped as I released inside her. Fuck. It’d been a long time since I came so hard. We were both still and breathing hard for a long time.
Finally, I drew her close and kissed her. “You made me so proud tonight.” She sighed and burrowed into my arms, mumbling something under her breath I couldn’t make out.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Love you.”
I smiled. “Love you, too.”
Chapter Three
ABBY
The following weekend, I made my way to our bedroom, running the obstacle course comprising moving boxes, bubble wrap, and tape. The packers we’d hired had been busy all day getting together the items we planned to take to Delaware. Most of the boxes were half-filled, though a few had already been taped up. Several empty ones lined the h
allway. But no matter how much they held, they all had one thing in common—they were brown.
“I’ve decided brown is my least favorite color,” I announced to Nathaniel as I finally made it into our room.
“The most boring of all colors,” he agreed. He stood beside the bed, going through an open box. “Did Elizabeth settle down?”
“Yes, she wants to know when Jeff and Dena’s baby will be able to play and she didn’t quite grasp there were still seven months until he or she is born. And then she wanted to know how the baby got into Dena’s belly in the first place.”
Nathaniel laughed. “I wasn’t expecting that conversation just yet. I thought we had a few more years.”
I rummaged through my drawer, looking for pajamas. “You’ve got ten hours. I told her to ask you in the morning.” He stopped laughing and I giggled at his expression. “I’m kidding. I told her we’d talk about it later, that it was too late tonight. Have you seen my blue-striped pajamas?”
He nodded. “I put them in with the winter clothes yesterday. They’re in a box somewhere.”
I shut the drawer closed with more force than was necessary. “Everything’s in disarray. Nothing’s where I can find it.”
It was a slight exaggeration. We weren’t packing everything. And we technically weren’t packing anything. We’d hired a company to do that for us. But it still didn’t take away from the fact that I couldn’t put my hands on my favorite set of pajamas when I wanted them.
“In about another hour you won’t need pajamas anyway,” he said, taking the box off the bed.
He was right, of course. It was a Friday night and he’d collared me a few hours ago. We were experimenting with lower protocol outside the playroom. A useful thing, since thus far our scheduled collar time had consisted of boxes, trying to get the kids to sleep, boxes, taking Apollo outside, and boxes.
“But I’d like to wear something comfortable until then,” I said, and then quickly added, “Sir.”
I needed a few hours in the playroom. Needed to let him take over and make all the decisions. I felt stressed and frazzled. When I got that way, there was one thing guaranteed to make it all better: kneeling at Nathaniel’s feet.
My phone buzzed with an incoming e-mail. I pulled my cell out of my pocket and sighed when I saw it was from Meagan, my boss. A few months ago, the blog I wrote detailing my submissive journey came to the attention of a large media network. They offered me a job writing content for the women’s sexuality section of their Web site, as well as posts about BDSM for their late-night talk show on women’s health. Occasionally, I’d also appear on the show to answer questions.
I scanned Meagan’s e-mail. The topic for Monday night’s live episode had been changed, thanks to a particularly virulent case of the flu hitting several of the guests scheduled to talk. That meant the blog post I’d prepared wouldn’t work.
“Damn,” I said. “I told her we were moving starting this weekend. A new post will take a ton of research. I don’t know how she expects me to fit four days of work into one.”
“Will you need to work tomorrow?” Nathaniel asked.
“At some point,” I said with a huff, rubbing my forehead. “Damn. Damn. Damn. Like I didn’t have five thousand other things to do, now I have five thousand and one.”
“Look at it this way, now you have an entire week’s work done for a future show.”
I sighed. “Since Linda’s watching the kids while we finish up packing this weekend, I really wanted to enjoy some alone time with you. Especially since tomorrow night will be our last night here.” Thank goodness for Nathaniel’s aunt. I wasn’t sure what we were going to do in Delaware without her.
A strange look crossed his face, surprise or maybe guilt. “It’s not our last night by any stretch of the imagination.”
I waved my hand. “You know what I mean,” I said, looking for another pair of pajamas.
“Abigail.”
I looked up.
“This will all work out. I have to go into the city tomorrow for work, and because my meeting is so late, I’ll spend the night.”
“What?” He was going to leave me with a half-packed house?
“I have a late meeting with Charlene. Linda will still get the kids, so you’ll have time to do your work.”
All the stress of the move suddenly mixed together with my irritation at having to rewrite the work I’d done, and Nathaniel’s late-night meeting with Charlene was the cherry on top of an ice-cream sundae of total crap.
“When were you planning on telling me?” I asked.
“I just found out this afternoon.”
“That woman has got some nerve setting up a meeting for our last weekend home, when I’m wearing your collar, and she knows we’re moving.” I crossed my arms. “It’s like she’s a mind reader and knows exactly what to do to piss me off.”
“Abigail.” His voice was a warning, but Charlene was like a trigger for me.
“Tell her you’ll meet her Monday night.”
“You’ll be at the station. And Linda can’t keep the kids then.”
I crossed my arms. “There has to be something you can do.”
“Oh, there is.” He spoke calmly, but we’d been married enough years for me to know he could conceal his anger behind a mask of calm.
“Then do it.”
His voice was low and soft when he spoke. “Kneel.”
His command caught me off guard, but one look at his tense expression let me know he meant business. I abandoned my search for pajamas and dropped to my knees.
“Just to make sure we’re both on the same page, are you currently wearing my collar?”
I swallowed. Damn it. Charlene had a way of getting me in trouble without even being here. “Yes, Master.”
“I know we’re experimenting with some lower protocol, but that does not give you free rein to speak however you wish. I know you have issues with Charlene. You have not made this a secret.”
Damn straight I haven’t made it a secret.
“This is after you have repeatedly stated that you trust my choice of employee and that you trust me around her. Isn’t that correct?”
“Yes, Master,” I admitted begrudgingly.
“Furthermore, why do you assume it was Charlene who set up the meeting?”
I didn’t have a response to that.
“I set up the meeting,” he continued. “She wanted to meet Monday night. I told her that wouldn’t work because you would be at the station and I knew the kids would be with Linda tomorrow and one of us needed to be home. I actually thought I was doing you a favor by giving you some time to yourself. I know this week has been hectic for you.”
“May I speak, Master?” It seemed prudent to slip back into higher protocol.
“Yes.”
“I appreciate the fact that you were thinking about me and wanted to give me some alone time tomorrow, and I understand why you didn’t want to meet with her on Monday night.” I paused, trying to formulate in my head how to word the next bit. “But you are also aware of how I feel about her, and it just raises the question, how did you think I’d react?”
“Have you or have you not told me you trust my choice of employee and you trust me enough to know I would never break my vows to you?”
My stomach sank as I picked up on where he was going. “Yes, Master. I’ve said that.”
“In fact, you’ve said that repeatedly. Correct?”
“Yes, Master.”
“That is why I thought you might have a different response.”
He was right, I’d told him that several times. But saying it was different from living it. “I’m sorry, Master.”
He was silent for several seconds. “I’m not sure what it’s going to take in order for you to understand that Charlene is not a threat to us. What is a threat is this jealousy that is completely unfounded. It makes you seem petty, and you’re not a petty person.”
He hadn’t asked a question, so I didn’t speak. I al
most apologized again but changed my mind. He didn’t seem to be in a mood for multiple apologies.
“I’m not sure what your writing schedule looks like tomorrow, but I want you to take time to write out ten things you can do to overcome your issues with Charlene.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Then you are to draft a schedule for implementing them. We will discuss both on Tuesday.” I nodded.
“That’s tomorrow, though,” he said. “For tonight, I want you in the playroom in five minutes.”
He left the bedroom. Probably to prepare for whatever it was he had in mind. I wasn’t sure if he’d had a scene planned before my outburst about Charlene or not. If he had, I was willing to bet it’d changed.
I undressed quickly and walked to the playroom. Nathaniel was there already, his back to me as he worked with something in a far cabinet. I closed and locked the door behind me, shooting a quick glance to a nearby shelf where the steady green lights of the child monitors ensured that we’d hear either child if one needed us. Elizabeth was four and typically slept through the night, but almost-two-year-old Henry had a history of ear infections and never slept well.
Nathaniel hadn’t moved and didn’t say anything, so I made my way to the middle of the room and knelt. I looked down at the floor and fell almost immediately into my yoga breathing. I breathed in the calm of the playroom and exhaled the stress of my jealousy.
He didn’t come to me immediately, perhaps allowing me time to get in my headspace. When he did walk toward me, I heard him place several things behind me.
“This is not a discipline session; it’s a lesson in trust,” he said. “However, because it’s a lesson and not a play scene, you’re not allowed to come. Understand?”