by Ivy Nelson
“It’s fine. Really. There’s always next weekend.” Her voice was quiet now and the disappointment sounded like downright hurt. Now he wondered if she suffered from abandonment issues. Damned if he would contribute to them.
“Damn it. No. We’re doing this tonight. I just might be a little later than five.”
“If you say so,” she said.
“Hey,” he said keeping his tone quiet and kind. “I promise, I’ll see you tonight little one. Be ready for me. I’ll text you instructions.”
“I’ll be waiting,” she said, sounding hopeful again.
“Good girl. I should get back to work.” He ended the call determined not to go to Chicago even if that meant faking a family emergency of his own.
He called his replacement for the month and asked him if he could come in and do the transition early. Then he convinced Upwood to push his departure time back an hour, citing safety issues at the airport.
He promised his boss he would stick around until four and complete all of his end of rotation paperwork, but he was sending agent Lathen to Chicago.
At noon, he watched as Lathen, Savko, and two other agents piled into the SUVs to take Director Upwood to his plane.
Then he made his way back to his office and did his best to plow through the stack of paperwork that waited for him at the end of a thirty-day rotation.
Peter finished his paperwork in record time but still he didn’t rush home. They had talked about Carrie being in the right head space before they went to the party tonight, but Peter also needed to be in the right frame of mind to give Carrie the experience he wanted to give her. He wasn’t holding out hope that she would suddenly turn into some kind of twenty-four/seven submissive, but he hoped to give her a positive power exchange experience since it was clear that her forays into the world of submission weren’t exactly positive.
Since installing the friend finder app on her phone, he had been letting her take a cab home when she didn’t need to work as late as he did. At four-thirty, he checked the app, saw that she was still at work and sent her a text.
I’m going to be home at 5:30. You have an hour to get ready for a nice dinner out. Please wear a dress… and no panties.
A smirk formed as he hit send. Less than a minute later, his phone rang.
“You expect me to get to your place, get dressed and do my hair and makeup in an hour?” she asked when he answered.
“That’s exactly what I expect. You should probably get going if you haven’t already.”
“Fine.” She huffed into the phone.
“Fine? Our twenty-four hours starts very soon little one so you might want to think about how you speak to me from now on. I’ll see you soon.”
Without another word, he hung up. A few seconds later, his phone dinged with a text alert.
I’m putting you on so many roller coasters you’re going to be sick for a month mister.
He grinned and immediately fired back.
I prefer Sir, but mister works too. Sounds a lot like Master.
Her response made him laugh out loud.
In your dreams, PETER.
Tonight would certainly be entertaining if nothing else. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he headed to his SUV. Traffic was going to be heavy, and he had one stop to make.
By the time he pulled into his apartment complex parking garage, he was feeling ready to give Carrie the experience of a lifetime. He hopped out of the SUV with a bouquet of morning glory’s in his hand and made his way to the elevator.
When he pushed open the door of his apartment, he heard a loud curse, and something clattered to the floor.
He called out to her. “Carrie, is everything OK?”
“Damn it. You’re here,” she said as she came rushing out of the bedroom in a t-shirt, her hair piled on top of her head. When he saw that she was gripping her finger and looked to be in pain, he quickly closed the distance between them.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine. I just burned my finger.”
“Let me see,” he said with a frown.
“Are those for me?” she asked.
He looked down at the flowers he had forgotten he was holding and smiled.
“They are but let me see your finger.”
Her arms flew around his neck, sending him stumbling back in surprise.
“Thank you,” she whispered as he wrapped an arm around her to prevent them both from falling. After a brief hug, he pulled back and looked at her. “You’re welcome, but don’t make me ask again. Finger. Now.” He watched her carefully as he took on a purposefully dominant tone. Obediently, she lifted the injured hand for him to inspect. The third finger was sporting a bright red mark that was fast turning into a blister. What had she done?
Gently, he led her back into the guest bathroom and set the flowers on the counter. Her curling iron was lying on the ground in front of the sink, so he kicked it aside as he turned the cold water on.
“Hold your finger under here,” he said dragging her hand toward the now flowing faucet.
“Sorry I’m such a klutz. This has to be ruining your plans.”
“Nonsense. You have nothing to apologize for. It looks like you need to calm down a little bit though. What’s got you stressed? Is it tonight? Are you worried?”
She shrugged as the water sluiced over her finger. “Maybe a little,” she finally whispered when he narrowed his eyes at her in the mirror.
Putting his hands on her shoulders, he gave a gentle squeeze. “It’s going to be OK sweetheart, I promise. Just relax. We’re having some fun, that’s all.”
“I’ll try,” she said, worry still evident on her face.
“I’ll be right back. Keep the water on your finger.”
He sprinted to his own bedroom where he had a first aid kit. Inside, he found burn cream and a bandage. Back in the bathroom, he gently took care of her finger and bandaged it. He would have to be mindful of her injury while playing tonight. That was still hours away though so there was time for some of the pain to subside. After making her drink a glass of water and take some ibuprofen, he presented her with the flowers and she grinned, planting a kiss on his cheek.
“I just need a few more minutes to get ready,” she said with a smile. “Will you put these in some water for me?”
While he waited for her to finish getting ready, he found a glass pitcher and filled it with water, arranging the flowers in it as best he knew how.
When she emerged from the bedroom, he inhaled sharply. Her makeup was subtle but perfect for her features. Blonde curls framed her face and the stripe of blue he had grown to love was on display in the back of her hair. The dress she wore was a delightful shade of pink that made him think of beaches and cocktails. It was tight in all the right places yet still elegant enough for a conservative D.C. restaurant. She would be a sharp contrast next to him in his all black outfit.
“Ready to go?” he asked, offering her his arm. “You look perfect.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, slipping her arm through his.
Together, they walked toward the door. At the coat closet, he stopped and pulled out a large black bag on wheels.
“Your bag of tricks, I presume, Sir?” she asked sounding less nervous than she had when he arrived home.
“Indeed, Miss Davenport.” He winked and tugged her out the door.
The car ride to the restaurant was mostly silent, with Carrie staring out the window and Peter mulling over various ideas for getting her into a submissive mindset.
When they pulled into the restaurant, Peter drove to the valet stand.
“Stay there. I’ll get your door,” he instructed before stepping out of the car and handing the valet attendant his keys.
After opening her door, he laced his fingers with hers and they walked into the restaurant together. While they waited for their table, he let go of her hand and put his hand on the back of her neck. Slowly, he slid his fingers into her hair, tugging just enough to get her
attention. Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek which was warming as she blushed. Just then, the hostess motioned for them to follow her to their table. As part of his effort to keep her comfortable and afford them some privacy, Peter had requested a table in the back corner of the restaurant, and the staff had accommodated him.
Now he leaned back in his chair watching her fidget with her silverware. Time to get her attention and put her in a better frame of mind.
“Did you skip the panties like I told you to?”
Her head flew up and she gasped. “Peter! We’re in public,” she hissed.
He raised one eyebrow. “I believe I told you I prefer Sir, and what does being in public have to do with anything? I just asked a simple question.” Looking around them he said, “You can either answer, or I can slide my chair closer to you and find out for myself.”
20
♥♥♥
Carrie stared at Peter in disbelief. They were really doing this.
“Do I need to repeat myself?”
Carrie took a deep breath and shook her head. “No, Sir.”
Peter beamed. “Better. Now answer the original question.”
“I’m not wearing any panties,” she said looking over her shoulder.
“Relax, little one. It’s secluded back here. Nobody can see or hear us.”
He was right, it was a very private corner they were in, but her face was still red with embarrassment. Carrie closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath before she gave him a shy smile and said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”
Peter gripped her hand. “It’s perfectly normal to be nervous when you’re about to do something you’re unsure about. After we order our food, we’ll talk about how tonight is going to work and what I expect, OK?”
Carrie nodded just as the waiter approached. They both ordered the steak and seafood plate and a glass of wine. “We’ll limit ourselves to one glass of wine,” he told her. “I don’t want either of us impaired during our playtime.”
When they were alone again, Peter picked up her hand and kissed each of her fingertips. “Let’s talk about the rules, baby.” He waited for her nod of acknowledgment before he continued.
“First, you’ll call me Sir at all times. I think you understand that one.” She nodded. It was one of the most common D/s rules there was. His eyes were stern as he continued laying out his expectations.
“Along those same lines, I don’t want any sass out of you tonight. I know you like your sass and sarcasm, but I want you on your best behavior. You can laugh, you can joke, you can have fun, just be respectful and remember your role. If I have to remind you to watch your mouth more than once, you get a clothespin on the tongue. If I have to remind you a third time, I’ll spank you. And if that doesn’t work, I’ve got some great gags that will shut you up. If I have to use one, it won’t come out until we leave the party and our scene will get a lot less pleasurable for you. Do you understand?”
Still worried someone might hear, she glanced around before she said, “Yes, Sir.”
“Next, you will only drink water at the party until after we play. No alcohol and no soda, and definitely no coffee.” Her nose crinkled at that rule, but she nodded again. She had promised total submission and that’s what she was aiming for.
“One more rule. You don’t come without my permission. However, you’re also not allowed to ask for an orgasm. Your pleasure is completely in my hands tonight.”
Carrie was glad he wasn’t going to make her beg for an orgasm. She hated begging. The waiter brought their food and wine, and they ate while Carrie told him about her plans for Sunday. They would drive a few hours outside of D.C. to an amusement park to spend the day.
“When was the last time you rode a roller coaster?” Carrie asked.
Peter shrugged. “I think I was seventeen, so pretty close to a decade.”
“And when was the last time you took a vacation?” she asked as her knife sliced through another piece of tender steak.
“I get thirty days off in a row. I’m on vacation all the time.”
Carrie shook her head. “No, silly. I mean like a planned trip out of town to do something fun.”
“Oh. That would be a few years ago when I moved mom and dad to Hawaii.”
Carrie fought the urge to bang her head on the table. “You pour soul. We have to get you out more. Moving your parents into a new place is not a vacation.”
“What? I went snorkeling. It counts.”
Carrie giggled and swallowed the last of her wine.
As they were finishing up their meal, Peter leaned way across the table and motioned for her to come closer to him. When she did, he whispered in her ear.
“I want you to go to the bathroom and masturbate until you are close to an orgasm. By the time you get back I’ll have the bill paid and we’ll be ready to leave.”
Carrie’s face turned bright red as he lifted a hand and trailed a finger down her cheek. “Go. Now.” His expression was stern, and he quirked one eyebrow up as if he were daring her to defy him. She stood and her legs wobbled as she scanned the restaurant looking for the bathrooms. When she spotted them, she turned to walk away, but he grabbed her hand.
“And just so you know, I’ll be checking to see if you complied when we get to the car. If I think you disobeyed me, you won’t get to come at all tonight.” Carrie’s mouth fell open. How was he going to check?
When she got to the bathroom, all three stalls were full, so she stood against the wall waiting for one to open up. Part of her wanted to turn around and leave. Maybe Peter wouldn’t be able to tell. Thanks to her lack of panties, she could feel her own slickness and she was even more aware of her arousal. Surely, he wouldn’t actually be able to tell if she didn’t masturbate. Something about his threat though, made her wait until a stall opened up and she slipped inside.
After putting a seat cover down, she sat gingerly on the toilet with her dress hiked up around her waist. Embarrassment flooded her face and neck with warmth as she slid timid fingers between her legs. What if someone watched her through the cracks in the stall doors? Why they were designed that way had always been a mystery to Carrie anyway. Willing herself not to think about it, she closed her eyes and conjured up an image of Peter. Memories of the first time she had masturbated in front of him came rushing back and she pressed her middle finger against her clit, rubbing in small circles. As she relived that night, she felt her pussy clench. An orgasm wasn’t far away. She remembered the feel of the cold, firm cucumber sliding inside of her, and she couldn’t wait to feel Peter’s cock fucking her after waiting so long.
Just then, she heard herself groan. Fuck. There are still people in here. She cleared her throat and pretended to cough as she continued to massage herself. When her pussy clenched up again and she felt the wall of pressure beginning to form deep in her core, she quickly stopped and took in several deep breaths. Then she stayed right where she was until the other two stalls emptied and she heard both occupants leave the restroom. At the sink, she stared at herself in the mirror while she washed her hands. Embarrassingly, she could feel even more of her own moisture between her thighs and she thought for sure it was running down her legs. Still feeling shaky, she walked back to the table. When she got close, Peter stood and smiled. The check lay on the table already signed.
“Did you add a little blush to your face, baby?” Peter asked with a grin. Carrie dropped her head as she felt her cheeks grow even warmer. There was only so red they could get, right? Peter gripped her hand and led her from the restaurant. When their car appeared at the entrance, Peter opened the passenger door to let Carrie in before the valet driver could even finish climbing out of the car. The young man handed Peter his key and Carrie noticed he slipped him a nice tip. It was a silly thing, but Carrie liked that he was a good tipper. So many people weren’t. As Peter pulled out of the driveway, his hand rested on her thigh. When they got to a stop sign, His fingers grazed up under the hem of he
r dress and Carrie inhaled sharply. There were no other cars behind them, so Peter pushed her legs apart and cupped her.
“Fuck. That little pussy is drenched,” he said with a low growl. Then he separated her soaked folds and found her clit. “Mmm and this clit is nice and swollen. Well done following my instructions, baby.” His finger pressed hard into her clit and she squeezed her eyes shut. If he didn’t stop, she was going to come without his permission since she couldn’t ask. A horn sounded and Carrie jumped.
“Naughty girl,” Peter murmured as he pulled away from the stop sign. “Distracting me like that while I’m trying to drive.” He tsked his tongue with a look of mock disapproval and Carrie tried to stifle a giggle.
Throughout the rest of the drive to Edith’s house, Peter would periodically rub her clit or slide a finger into her opening. “Gotta make sure you stay soaked for me,” he said as he brought her to the brink over and over again. By the time they were pulling into the driveway, Carrie was tense with the need to orgasm. But he’d already warned her that it would be a couple of hours at least until he played with her. Delayed gratification was definitely not her thing.
Peter opened her door for her again before he opened the back of the car and pulled out his toy bag. His arm settled around her shoulders as they walked to the front door.
Edith answered and gave them both hugs. “Now, did you two cuties just share a car or are you actually here together this time?”
“You’re a nosy bitch, you know that Edith?” Carrie said.
Peter gripped the back of her neck and squeezed hard as they stood in the entry. “What did I say about your sass tonight young lady? Consider that your one free warning. I’ve got a clothespin in my pocket if I have to remind you again.”
Carrie couldn’t bring herself to look at Edith, but the older woman whistled and said, “Well, I guess I have my answer. Have fun tonight, kids.” She gave Carrie a pat on the shoulder and turned to Peter. “She’s right you know. I am a nosy bitch, so don’t you be giving her any shit on my account.”
