She took a sharp breath and then said, “Yes, Master.”
“Stay like that. Do not move until I give you permission.” He stepped back and admired her. Her ass was big and round and utterly delectable. He yearned to mark it and to feel it around his cock. But not yet.
She held the position, not moving. He wanted to see if she could wait. He’d known subs who could take a beating until they were black and blue but couldn’t stand to sit still.
After a few minutes, he said, softly, “You are pleasing me, just as you are. Continue.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to. I enjoy watching. And I enjoy your anticipation. Your vulnerability. The way you expose yourself to me without knowing what will come next.”
She shivered. “How long do I have to stay like this?”
Not long.
“Until I decide you don’t.”
“Yes, Master.”
Her pussy glistened. He listened to her breathing. He had no way of knowing what was going through her mind or what she was imagining he might do, but whatever it was, she showed every sign of being aroused. He stepped back until he could reach the bag, and then took his gaze off Sophia for a moment to search through it.
Putting what he needed in his pocket, he walked back to Sophia. He pressed his hand against the underside of her ass, first on the left, and then on the right, as if spanking her in slow motion. Then he palmed her pussy with his left hand, pressing up against her clit for a moment. She moved back against his hand eagerly.
He withdrew his hand. “No. You’re not going to come. Not yet. Not until I decide.”
She sighed, almost a whimper.
“Being a slave is not about being pleasured, although it will happen, because I enjoy it. You are not displayed this way for your pleasure but for mine. And my pleasure will be served.” He touched her rear opening again, gently tickling. For a moment, she flinched; then she relaxed; then she pushed back against his finger.
“You like having your ass played with.” It wasn’t a question, and her reaction had made it obvious. Still, he wanted to make her admit it, so when she didn’t respond other than by sighing, he prompted, “Don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, Master,” she said.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the vial of lube he’d placed there. He dribbled it onto his finger and her ass, and then thrust his lubed finger inside.
“I’ve never, um…” she said.
“Never had a cock in your ass?” he asked, deliberately pushing her to talk about it. He added some more lube and spread it around inside her.
“No. And you’re very big.”
“I’ve heard. You’re not getting a cock in your ass this time either. You haven’t earned the privilege yet.” He let her digest that for a moment. He knew people tended to regard anal sex as somehow degrading. But he saw it as deeply connective and intense, and he enjoyed changing her perception.
Sometimes the best way to get someone to want something is not to make it available.
If he’d been planning to fuck her, he would need to use more lube, but as an anal virgin, she probably didn’t know that.
He pulled out a small bag containing a stainless steel butt plug. It was a few inches long and just an inch across at the thickest point. At the outside end was a large shiny glass jewel, a deep sapphire color because he felt it would suit her. He’d bought it for Sophia at a fetish fair in LA. “What you are going to feel next is much smaller than my cock.”
“What?” she asked. He ignored her question and put one drop of lube on the toy, and then slid it forward. With anal sex, he generally felt there was no such thing as too much lube. But with the toy, too much lube could made it fall out, even though it was shaped to avoid that, with a narrow, straight rod connecting the jewel at the end to the flanged plug. Slowly, he slipped it in, stretching her. He listened to her breathing as the wide part of the plug entered her, making sure she wasn’t in pain. She grunted—and then it slipped forward, lodging itself securely.
“All done,” he said.
“What the hell is that?”
“A butt plug. It has a pretty jeweled base. Looks quite fetching on you, actually.”
“I can’t see it.”
“No, pretty much by definition, it’s a hard place to see. I could take a picture of it with my phone, if you like, and show it to you.”
Sophia hesitated. If he were her, he’d be worried about pictures too, although he could have taken one any time while she was bent over the bed. He’d never do such a thing without asking, but she didn’t know that. “Or I could take a picture with your phone,” he said. “And you could delete it after or keep it, as you wish.”
“May I get my phone?”
His first instinct was to say no, she had to stay in that position a while longer. But then he thought of her walking across the room. “Yes. Go get it, slave girl. Now.”
She crawled off the bed and got to her feet. He enjoyed the sight of her naked body and the startled look on her face. “Oh!”
“Oh?” he inquired innocently.
“That feels really strange when I’m walking.”
He grinned at her. “Good.”
She rummaged through her purse and came out with a phone. She plugged in a password and then handed it to him.
“Back to the position you were in,” he told her.
She climbed back onto the bed. Her obedience warmed his heart and made his already hard cock ache, and he knew he was going to have to do something about that soon. But first he had to figure out her camera. A minute later, he walked around to the other side of the bed and handed the phone to her so she could take a look.
“Oh my,” she said. “That’s, um. It’s kind of pretty. And I really am exposed, aren’t I?”
“You really are. And it’s been most enjoyable. Now, however…” With a single yank, he unbuttoned his pants. He tugged on her hair, bringing her head up until her face was at cock level. “I want to be pleasured.”
She smiled and licked along the shaft, then swirled her tongue around the tip. He was tempted to pull her forward and force his cock into her mouth, but he resisted. She licked his cock and his balls with slow and eager sensuality, and the feel of her soft wet tongue was heaven. It was even better than a climax, even though it made him crave his release even more.
She scooted toward him. “May I use my hands, Master?”
“Yes.” Sexy as it might be to deny her the use of them, he wanted to let her have a little control and see how she would use it. “Place them so that I can’t go too far down your throat.”
She nodded and gripped his shaft lightly, then enveloped him with her mouth. He watched as she slowly slid him in, moving her hand down until finally she had to stop. She looked up at him. He smiled his approval. “Good girl,” he said. “Now. Make me come.”
She bent to her task with a will, sliding her lips up and down his cock faster and faster. She tugged with her hand without really sliding it, gripping him firmly without squeezing too hard. He felt his seed surge inside him. Her lips felt too good to want her to stop, and he fought his orgasm. She looked up at him with wide eyes. She needed to know she was pleasing, like any submissive did, and that look tore at his control and pushed him over the edge. He flooded her mouth, pulsing over and over. It felt more intense than he’d remembered an orgasm feeling for a long time, but somehow she handled it all, and when he was done, she let his cock slip out of her mouth, gave him a shy smile, and then nuzzled her head against his belly, her hand still on his shaft.
Why did it feel so intense? She’s good, but I don’t think it’s her skill. Something about knowing she’s tasting me feels incredibly good. I want to fill her senses.
They stayed like that for a while, him standing, her kneeling on the bed with her cheek pressed close. An aftershock made his body shiver. She seemed to feel it, because she wrapped an arm around his waist and hugged him closer.
“Master?” she asked.
“Slave girl?”
“I’m a little hungry now. I’m afraid that wasn’t very filling.”
“No, slave girls cannot live on cum alone, even if they’d like to. I’m new in the area. Know any good places to eat around here?”
She let him go and knelt back on her heels. “Well. Yes. There’s a really good Peruvian chicken place, if you like that.”
“Yummy.”
“Um…do you take the plug out, or do I?”
“Neither at the moment.”
“I’m going out like this?”
“Not exactly. You’re going to put your dress back on.”
* * * *
So it continued for the next few days.
She came over to his hotel during the day, and then went home around two to be a mother again. He strictly forbade her from masturbating while she was away from him, and he rationed the orgasms she had when she was with him as well, never again letting her have more than he did, teasing her to the edge before telling her he looked forward to seeing her tomorrow. He took her to lunch wearing the plug, rope, and even nipple clamps beneath her clothes. She learned to trust that he really did want exactly what he was asking, and even when his instructions surprised her, she didn’t hesitate to follow them.
She was becoming the perfect slave, and the idea of losing her at the end of the week was becoming unbearable. She was exquisite, and he’d never found someone quite as good a match for his desires as she was. She was spunky enough to be interesting, but always yielded to him, and their connection was only getting better.
When she left each day, he went to downtown Washington to explore the city’s museums. After they closed in the evenings, he put in a couple of hours volunteering at an organization that worked for better legal protections for sexual minorities—the same kind of people he helped back home. Angela probably would have told him he was supposed to be on vacation and enjoying himself, but it was interesting work. He felt he was learning things, and he loved the people there.
On the train on the way back to the hotel, he tried to write, but the words weren’t flowing. His mind kept drifting to Sophia.
“I don’t have fantasies,”
he’d told more than one slave.
“I have plans.”
But with Sophia, the plans kept overflowing the amount of time they’d agreed on, and even the time he’d planned to spend in DC, until they seemed less and less like plans and more and more like fantasies.
Chapter Eight
Sophia looked in the mirror—a hand mirror because her ass was facing the large one over the low sink, and that was what she wanted to see. But the marks from Colby’s riding crop had faded, just as he’d said they would. The day before, they were visible as pink marks and indentations, and now, not even a bruise. Sophia was disappointed and a bit surprised at herself.
It’s a sign of his skill that he knows just how hard to hit. But I’d love to see evidence of what we did.
She straightened and let her hand drift between her legs. Thinking about Colby and the way he’d played with her made her aroused, and she wanted to touch. She wanted to more than touch. She wanted to rub until she got some blessed relief.
“Mom!” shouted Lana from outside the door. “I need to go!”
Sophia giggled and pulled her pants up. “Just a moment, dear!” She vacated the bathroom for her daughter and called Jack. “You’re next, honey! Let’s all go before we head to Nana’s!” She knew that she needed Jack lined up and ready to go by the time Lana was finished.
Maybe I’ll have two bathrooms someday.
It was Saturday night, and Colby was taking her downtown to a club called Crypt of Fate after she dropped the kids off at her parents’.
It might be our last date.
The thought hurt Sophia more than she thought it would have, but that was precisely the reason why it was probably the last one. Every day she’d become more attached.
If I break up with him after tonight, I’ll be hurt and sad. No, heartbroken.
I love him.
It hadn’t just been the amazing sex that had gotten her to the point where she could occasionally admit that to herself, even if most of the time she still fought the idea. In spare moments, they’d talked about what they did in the rest of their lives, and she’d come to deeply admire the work he did.
But if I break up with him in a month, I’ll be devastated. And the kids can’t afford for me to be that way—not for a relationship that never had a chance at lasting anyway.
The strange thing was, she had the distinct impression that Colby was holding back. That first day he’d shown her that he could make her come and come again. Since then, things had changed. She found herself looking forward to taking him in her mouth again. She’d fantasized about him taking her ass, which he teased on a regular basis but never with his cock. She was looking forward just to serving him—another sign she was in way too deep. She’d always enjoyed satisfying her lovers, but never as much as she’d enjoyed being satisfied. Until now.
Friday, he hadn’t even let her come once. And he left her with orders not to touch herself—orders she’d come very close to disobeying.
But I didn’t, even though he’d never know.
She didn’t know whether she should be proud of herself or ashamed. It was nuts to let a man control her this way. And yet, it was incredibly arousing, and to have resisted in spite of that arousal, she felt, was quite an accomplishment.
And in any case, my last chance to play with myself is gone now.
His directions for the evening had been strange. He’d told her not to bother to dress up, and she’d taken him at his word. She was wearing blue jeans and a baggy, comfortable sweatshirt. Part of her had thought to seduce him by donning something sexy that he couldn’t resist. But it would only make the aftermath harder on both of them, and she was following orders. It made her sad, though, that he hadn’t asked her to dress to please.
He’s not going to take me to the club in this. Maybe he’s planning to break up with me first. It’s either that or he expects me to be naked all night.
The idea of being stark naked in a strange club ought to have bothered her, but it was much better than the alternative. And she knew she’d strip for him in a heartbeat.
“Mom?” asked Jack.
“Sorry, honey.” She realized she had a faraway look on her face, and he had just gotten out of the bathroom. Both her children were looking at her expectantly.