She leaned down to her elbows, sticking her ass in the air. He came up behind her and delivered a resounding smack. She jumped. "Do you tell me what to do, pet?" he asked.
"N-no. No, Sir." Another smack on her other cheek.
"Do you make the decisions in this part of our relationship?"
She shook her head. "No, Sir. But-"
He smacked her again. This time harder. "The only butt is yours, pet, and it's going to be nicely pink and displaying my handprints now that you insist on arguing with me."
True to his word, Mark spanked her ass mercilessly as she tightened her fists in the comforter and struggled not to cry out in protest. Occasionally he paused to tug at the plug, twisting it and nudging it deeper into her as his other hand rubbed her pussy. When he was finished, she was panting hard.
"You're a mess," he told her. "Pussy juice running everywhere. Spread your legs, pet. You need to be cleaned up before you get dressed."
She moved her feet apart. "Wider," Mark demanded. When she complied, he knelt down behind her and slowly started licking her juices off her inner thigh. She gasped and surged forward. "Don't you move during your cleaning, pet. Understand me? The only time you move is to fuck my face to orgasm. Understand?" She tried to process his demand. Fuck his face? He pinched her clit and she cried out. "Pay attention, pet. I asked you a question."
"Yes! Yes, Sir."
"Good girl." He set about licking her thighs thoroughly. By the time he reached her pussy, she spread her legs even wider, giving him complete access to her. "Good girl," she heard him murmur against her skin. He spread her labia with his thumbs and licked inside her. She swiveled her hips, trying to take him deeper. He laid one arm across the front of her thighs and pulled her against his lips. With the other hand, he tugged and twisted the plug.
He was teasing her with short little licks, pulling back after each one causing her to move back, trying to prolong the sensation. The warring sensations of being filled by the plug in the rear but being left empty in front left her frustrated. She finally growled in irritation and shoved herself backward, grinding into his mouth.
He released her thighs and pinched her clit. He shoved on the plug, and pushed his tongue as deep into her cunt as it would go. She shuddered in orgasm. He was kind enough to wait until she finished coming before licking her pussy clean.
Mark got to his feet and gave her ass a final light slap. "My pet sure does love to be clean."
"Yes, Sir," Abby replied, feeling light headed.
"Well, get dressed. We don't have much time."
She got to her feet and sat down on the edge of the bed. Her ass tingled against the fabric from her spanking. Mark watched with interest as she rolled on first one stocking then the other. She stood up, fastened the garter belt in the back and fixed the clasps to the lace edging of the thigh high stockings. She put on the matching bra, perfect and in her size.
"You can get the panties if you can show me some respect for the rest of the day," he told her.
She met his gaze. "I'm sorry, Sir. It's just such a nice gift. No one's ever given me something so expensive before."
He scowled. "I assume someone's given you a gift before, pet. And you know it's only polite to be grateful. It's not your concern where the gift comes from or how much it costs. Only that I took the time and effort to pick it out for you."
"You picked it out?" she asked, surprised. "Like you went to a store and bought this for me?" She couldn't believe it.
He grinned at her. "Yes, pet. Slick and I went to that little dress and panty store she and likes so much and I had them made for you. Slick was sworn to secrecy so it would be a surprise. She helped with the makeup, too."
She smiled and bit her lip. "I can't picture you in that store. Surrounded by panties."
He squeezed her shoulder. "There is nothing I won't do to make you happy, pet."
"Sir?"
He raised an eyebrow and she looked up at him. She licked her lips nervously. "Can- may I suck you?"
He grinned. "So you really are grateful for your gifts."
"Yes, Sir."
Mark unzipped his fly and took out his hard cock. "Come here, good girl," he crooned, taking hold of the back of her neck and pulling her down. "Get your pretty mouth on my cock."
Abby knelt and took him in her mouth. She swirled the tip like he'd showed her and suckled greedily on the head. When pre-cum weeped out of the tiny slit, she devoured it. It tasted better than the actual cum, even though at this point, the cum wasn't all that bad as long as it was still warm.
"You forgot something at breakfast, pet, but I didn't punish you for it. Show me how much you want to avoid punishment this time."
She paused, released his shaft, and lifted it up, taking one of his balls into her mouth. "Such a good girl. I know you didn't forget on purpose. Love every part of me the way I love every part of you."
She licked and laved and sucked and rubbed her face in his crotch enthusiastically. "That's my good girl. Now, wrap your lips around my cock. Suck all my seed out. Take it in your tummy."
She took a deep breath and slid the cock into her mouth. She worked his shaft with her lips and tongue until he took hold of her head with his hands. "Here it comes, pet. Don't waste a drop."
Abby remained calm like he'd showed her and swallowed in time with the pumping jets of semen filling her mouth.
He pulled out and she struggled to catch her breath. "Let me see," he told her, lifting her chin. He inspected her lips and face. "Got it all. What a good little pet you are." She smiled.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Mark led her to the kitchen and directed her to stand. He unclipped the leash and handed her a knife. "Slice the tomatoes, please, pet. Surely you can't mess that up." His eyes twinkled as he teased her.
She scowled at him, took the knife, and began slicing. He handed her a red onion, black olives, a few hard boiled eggs. By the end she considered herself to be an excellent slicer. Mark mixed salad greens in a large bowl and tossed in the veggies. He pulled some potato salad out of a bowl in the fridge and set it on the counter. He made two plates, piled high with the nicoise salad and the potatoes.
Tidying up the area, he lifted his chin at her. "Come pet," he said, not bothering to put on her leash. But he didn't take their food. He led her out into the living area, picked up a large square pillow from the couch and set it on the floor next to the coffee table. "Kneel on that, pet." She made her way over to it and knelt. He retrieved a bag by the couch and set it down on the table. She glanced at it, but tried not to look like she was curious.
"I need to talk to you about respect, pet." Her heart sunk. She'd apologized for the gift debacle. "No, no," he said, catching her gaze. "I'm talking about in general. When you're wearing that collar you're representing me and all the things I've taught you. Your attitude needs to reflect your respect for me. No matter what. Understood?
"Now, you're in training and I know so much of this is new to you and a little daunting, so I'm going to help you out as best I can." He produced her ball gag. "There are rules, little pet, to this thing that we do. Rules I don't make you play by because I don't really care about them myself and some of them are contrary to what I personally want and believe.
“One of these rules is eye contact. Most Doms don't allow their subs to look them in the eye. It reinforces their dominance over the sub. But I prefer it. I need it. Especially since you spend so much of our time together on speech restriction. I can see everything about you in those expressive little eyes of yours and, for better or worse, so can everyone else. Open."
He fastened the gag. "So rule number one is this: If you are unfamiliar with a person or in an unfamiliar environment and you are wearing my collar, you will only make eye contact with me and me alone."
Abby felt the blood drain out of her face and suddenly her heart beat a rapid tattoo inside her chest. She looked down at herself. She was nearly naked, not wearing panties. Also, she and Mark had just made lunch, so whatever he meant about an unfamiliar environment, it was clear to her he had no intention of taking her out of the house today. So that meant only one thing.
Her eyes widened and she shook her head violently, straining to speak even though she was gagged.
Mark grabbed the o-ring on the collar and shook it a little to break her panic snap. He raised a finger and put it in her face. "Respect. You will show it. You've given yourself to me and that's the last word on the subject. I know what you want. I know what you need. And I am well aware of your hard limits, pet. Trust me to respect them even though I don't have to this weekend."
He released her collar, stood up, and pulled a riding crop out of the bag. He swung it. It landed hard on his own thigh with a crack that made her nearly jump out of her skin. "This is what's waiting for you if you do not do exactly as you're told. You will respond to all commands quickly and to the best of your ability, with no sass. None. I've gagged you for your benefit because that little mouth of yours sometimes shoots first and asks questions later, but sass won't be tolerated. Give me a nod if you understand."
Tears stung her eyes. She was struggling to keep it together. Why? Why would he do this? He
knew
she would hate it. The thought of another man's hands on her made her shudder. She couldn't do it. She wouldn't.
Oh, god
, she thought as fear gripped her. Would they hurt her? Would a stranger cum in her?
The tears she'd been fighting flowed freely and she begged him with her eyes. His face softened and he laid the crop on the table. He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. "I know. I know everything that you're thinking, pet. I know everything you're afraid of. You have got to learn to trust me."
He released one of her hands and put his palm over her heart, spreading his fingers wide. "Some Doms think the only way to truly own a sub is to share them with others, that you can't own something unless it's yours to give away." She sucked in a sharp breath. "I don't believe that, pet. As long as you're with me, no other man will ever touch you in any way. You're a treasure, pet,
my
treasure, and only mine."
He wiped her tears and stood up. "Now. Remember what I said. Rules and respect. Make me proud, and I will give you another, better, present."
It was only a few minutes later that the doorbell rang. Abby felt dread in the pit of her stomach. Mark answered the door and if Abby's imagination hadn't sufficiently upset her enough, it kicked into overdrive as a tall, svelte, blonde woman walked into the house. She was wearing a short sleeved pink silk blouse, a long black skirt, and high heels.
Mark kissed her. Kissed her! On the cheek but still. Abby's fear turned to loathing. As Mark gestured for the woman to enter the living room, the blonde's steps faltered a bit as she spotted Abby kneeling on the pillow next to the couch.
"Well, now," she said, smiling. "Isn't this a surprise?"
"Sabrina, this is my pet."
Sabrina assessed Abby with shrewd eyes. Abby met the woman's calculated gaze. "Pet!" Mark admonished. "Eyes down." Abby lowered her head, but not before taking in the full measure of the woman's beauty.
Sabrina declared, "She's breathtaking. Even with her obvious lack of training."
"I agree. Have a seat."
Sabrina thanked him and took a seat on the couch nearest Abby. Mark offered her a glass of wine.
"Pet," he said when Sabrina accepted. "I left a bottle and two glasses on the kitchen counter. Fill them both and bring them here." Abby flinched at the request. Mark's hard gaze bored into her and she got up off the floor, rather ungracefully she thought to her own chagrin as she was certain Sabrina the middle-aged bitch never did anything that lacked the grace and poise of an Old Hollywood Starlet.
As Abby passed in front of them, Sabrina said, "Now I know who the plugs were for. Very nice. And I can see she's already been punished today. I can just make out a handprint."
"She's got two more to plugs to go before she's ready, but she's doing well," Mark replied.
Abby's face burned. They were looking at her ass and talking about it. She stomped into the kitchen and spied the wine that she had thought was for her. If the kitchen hadn't been in full view of the living room, she'd have taken that ball gag off and spit in the glasses.
She half considered just taking the damn thing off and heading out the door. But Mark would never let her leave. He'd catch her and whip her with that crop of his. As she poured the wine, she glared out at the two of them talking in hushed tones.
Was Sabrina a sub? She hadn't called Mark 'Sir,' so she obviously wasn't his sub right now, but had she been? No, she couldn't be a sub, Abby realized, because she wasn't allowed to make eye contact with the bitch. The bitch was a Domme. She felt a little better about that. She wasn't any sort of competition, not that such a thing was possible anyway with Sabrina's classic good looks and slender figure. There was no way Abby could compete with her.