He eagerly nodded, apparently no longer capable of coherent speech.
I took a deep breath. "Remember, you're not allowed to come."
He smiled, nodding.
"Don't open the bag until after you're in the bedroom."
He nodded again. As I moved out of the way he saw the page was a user-friendly instructional guide for newbies to anal plugs and how to properly use them.
Yes, there are such pages.
I know, surprised the crap out of me, too. I guess you really can find anything on the internet.
I returned to the living room and tried to write. I wasn't sitting in a direct line of sight of our bedroom, but I heard him get up a few minutes later and walk into our bedroom and close the door.
I swallowed hard.
I tried to read email. I tried to web surf. I tried reading news and ten minutes later I was tiptoeing down the hall and standing outside our bedroom door, listening.
I couldn't hear much. I heard the bed move, meaning he was in it. I thought I heard him moan, I wasn't sure.
It was tempting to join him but I needed to do this.
He needed to do this.
He wanted me to be his Domme. That meant I needed to learn to hold my ground when I gave him a command. That was part of it, right?
I forced myself back to the couch and thirty minutes after I'd heard the door shut, our bedroom door opened.
He was blushing, grinning from ear to ear, and his hair looked like he'd been through a wind tunnel.
I'll be damned. Tony was right.
"Well?" I asked.
He nodded and leaned over the back of the couch and kissed me. "Wow!"
I tried for cool but knew I veered hard into curious. "So you know how to use them?"
He eagerly nodded.
I mean, how do you hold a conversation like this with the man you love? Do you say, "Hey, honey, how's it feel to have a butt plug up your ass?"
What's the etiquette for a situation like that?
Chapter 6
him
Holy crap it felt great! I was nervous at first, my eyes bugged when I looked at the webpage she'd pulled up.
I could only guess what was in the bag.
I didn't peek. Mistress ordered me not to look, so I didn't.
The hard part was not coming. Fuck! It was uncomfortable at first, an alien feeling but as I relaxed ... holy crap!
I've never been so hard in my life.
I could not believe she was going along with this.
And I desperately loved her for it.
I didn't dare touch my cock. I knew if I did I'd be fisting myself and there's no way I wouldn't come.
I didn't want to disappoint Mistress.
My Mistress.
I knew this couldn't be easy for her, but ... dammit. I've never been so fucking turned on in my life as I was laying there working the small butt plug up inside me. I wanted to walk out to the living room and drop to my knees in front of her.
But those weren't my orders.
After a few minutes I was brave enough to try the medium one.
Wow!
I squirmed on the bed, trying to obey Mistress. Jesus I wanted to stroke my cock. The only thing that could make this better...
I froze as the website I'd been looking at before she returned home flashed through my mind. Would she go for it?
My dick throbbed at the thought.
Visible proof that I was owned. I wanted it so bad. What did that say about me?
I didn't want a cheap-assed pet store collar. I wanted a real one, thick and lockable, something marking me as hers.
I tried to wipe this vision from my stupid head because it wasn't helping me obey my Mistress. It only made me hornier.
I rolled over onto my stomach and tried to finish working the medium butt plug in.
Mistake.
I froze on the bed, willing my cock to soften. I hadn't counted on how it would feel rubbing against the bed.
I finally got the plug all the way in and rolled over again.
My cock stood straight up in the air. I hadn't spent this much time hard since high school.
I had to take several breaks, holding myself perfectly still because it felt like I could come if I thought hard about it.
That was the longest—and possibly best—thirty minutes of my life. As I finally and reluctantly removed the butt plug and took everything into our bathroom to clean up, I allowed myself another fantasy, imagining what it would feel like to have her fucking my ass not with a tame butt plug, but with a large strap-on.
Would I ever be brave enough to ask her?
Chapter 7
Her
You cannot take control of someone and have them take control of you at the same time. The clarity of this truth hit me. One or the other. Give up one dream to make room for another.
His ideal or mine.
I had to choose.
He would serve me. He would die for me. He would kill the spiders and stand toe-to-toe with a drunk who hit on me at a hotel bar. He would love me with every breath in his body until the day the light finally left his eyes and they closed for good.
There were many things he wanted from me, but they were his desires, not his cravings. He asked only one thing of me above all others. In his heart it was all he needed—the only thing he needed—from me.
He needed my control.
He needed me as his Domme.
If he had that from me, he knew he had the other, lesser cares. If I was willing to do this for him, he knew no matter what direction the play took that he had my love and faith and trust.
Control.
I closed my eyes and laid my glasses on the table next to my laptop. Hadn't we done this anyway? Except with me spending years trying to goad him into taking a more dominant role in our relationship while he silently ceded control over to me?
And didn't I owe him this? Not that he would demand it.
Even now he was proving to be a good sub. He would never demand anything from me. I could tell him to sit in a corner while I went out to have meaningless sex, and to be in that corner when I returned, and he would sit there.
He wouldn't like it or enjoy it, but he would do it.
Not that I would ever do anything like that. The thought that there were people out there who would prey on subs turned my stomach.
I opened my eyes again and looked at the screen. Because of his line of work he couldn't wear a collar all the time. But I liked the look of the lockable leather collar he'd sent me the url for. I ordered it.
I also ordered an inexpensive ID bracelet, a heavy one, and had it engraved. On the outside, the first letter of my name.
On the backside—OWL.
Owned and Well-Loved.
Discreet, and yet it would serve as a tangible reminder of who and what he was.
The regular collar arrived first. When he got home from work that night, after he stripped I called him into the living room and pointed to the floor. He dropped to his knees and looked up at me with...
Love. Devotion.
Eagerness.
He wanted this. Could I really deny him? He was happier than I'd seen him in years, and we'd always had a great relationship to begin with.
"You said you wanted a collar, and you sent me a website."
He nodded. "Yes, Mistress."
I still couldn't get used to those words coming from his mouth, but I guess I needed to suck it up and deal with it. I held up the collar and his eyes widened.
And his cock hardened. I mean as if I'd snapped my fingers and poof, there was his woody. Pavlov couldn't have done any fucking better.
"This collar."