by Jamie Knight
I gave her a kiss on the cheek and stood up.
Steered by my master, he and I went upstairs. Though instead of heading toward the bedroom, we veered toward the playroom. My heart started to beat faster as I realized what my new husband had in mind.
Incense had been lit as well as candles, giving the whole room a calming and romantic vibe. On the table was a basin of water and a sponge.
Leading me over there, my master took down my dress, leaving me naked. I had followed his order not to wear anything under it and finally understood why.
Taking up the sponge, he wet it and scrubbed me down, paying particular attention to my pussy and asshole.
When I was squeaky clean all over, he scooped me up and carried me over to the first device of the evening. It was a sort of kneeling stocks, particularly designed for blowjobs.
Easing me down onto my knees, he drew my arms behind my back. The restraints, while made out of wood, where also padded, so it was pretty comfortable.
I watched as he shed his tux, unleashing his big cock. He didn’t even have to tell me what to do. My mouth was already open before he got to me.
My sweet, beloved master was lovingly throat fucking me, until he made me swallow his entire load, which I did with relish.
Then he took me over to the standing cross. Softly massaging me, he fastened the restraints. He was holding me perfectly in place, facing him.
Getting a can of whipped cream from where he had left it, he dabbed some on each of my nipples. Then ran a trail from between my tits and down my belly to my pussy, where he made a gentle swirl.
“There you go, my sweet thing,” he said. “You know how I love to eat you.”
Taking me firmly by the hips so that I couldn’t move at all, he worked his way down to my neck before sucking the cream from my nipples.
When there wasn’t a spot of cream left on them, he worked his way down the trail, ending up at my pussy which he duly devoured, lapping and sucking on my tender pink lips and making me moan so loud I was afraid that someone might hear us.
I nearly collapsed as my master released me, but he still wasn’t done with me yet. If our preparations were this wonderful, I could only imagine what he had planned for the honeymoon.
The next stop was the cross table. Laying me face down, my master put me into doggy position, lifting my as up high. I thought maybe he was going to fuck me but when the restraints were fastened, he surprised me with a spanking.
“I couldn’t go another minute without spanking my pet, my wife,” he explained.
The familiar sound of flesh on flesh filled my ears as well as my soul. He held himself back, to keep things from going too far, but I could tell my ass would be red before he was done.
After he had spanked me for a while, he brought his other hand into the equation, pushing two fingers deep into my pussy. They were soon followed by others until he was gently fisting me as I was still being spanked by him.
I bit my lip desperately to keep from howling from the pure pleasure that was blasting through me.
“The room is sound-proof, pet,” my master reminded me. “Let yourself go completely. Give into me.”
“Yes, sir.”
After that, the howls came from the deepest chambers of my soul as my master worked his entire hand deep in my tight, wet pussy. I came long and hard, moaning his name over and over.
After cleaning us both with something he had in his hand, Joshua lay his spanking hand on the small of my back. I took a slow breath in and prepared. He was going to fuck me and it might get rough.
His massive cock eased is way into my pussy, stretching me out as it went. He went all the way in until his pelvis was pressing up against my ass. It was the most wonderful feeling and I dearly hoped he would try and fuck me like that.
My wish was granted and within seconds, Joshua was pumping me deep and gently with his magnificent cock.
As he fucked me, I felt the cool tip of a lubed butt plug press up against my asshole. I breathed out slowly as he eased it into place, savoring the feeling of having both my holes filled at once.
His load was massive, warming me up from my core. As he squeezed my ass hard, he pulled out of my pussy, while working the butt plug in me to make sure I was ready.
Easing the butt plug out, leaving my asshole gaping, he then filled it with his gorgeous cock, pounding me to screaming delight. He took hold of my ass with both hands, squeezing hard as he slammed me to another loud orgasm, flooding my asshole with a strong blasting torrent of cum.
I came back down from my high in bed. Our bed, in the master bedroom. Joshua cleaned me up and wrapped me in a silk robe. His lovely hands massaged my ravaged pussy and asshole as he spooned me.
“Fuck.”
“Fuck in the excellent way?” he asked.
“Yes, master.”
“I was thinking, would you like to come to the club with me, now that it is open again? Show off what we can do?”
“Absolutely. I trust you entirely,” I told him. “I’ll even invite April because she mentioned exploring the lifestyle some. You have completely broken me in, and I am yours in every possible sense. You can do literally anything you like to me. Whenever you like, of course.”
“Okay, that sounds great,” he said. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Always and forever, my master and my husband.”
Joshua
1 Year Later
It was hard to believe that a whole year had passed. And there was a whole lot that had happened in that year. As I smiled down at the face – or more like the wrinkled forehead – of our sleeping newborn, whom we had just named Shane, I was reminded just how fast time could fly.
And I felt grateful and humbled – something I never thought it possible for me to feel. I had always been such an alpha male, sure of my status in the world, taking whatever I wanted. But now I had been given the best, most innocent and precious gift of all, and I was realizing just how small I really was in this big universe.
Since I had been Celeste’s first everything, I found it only fitting that she gave me a first – my first time to become a father. I cradled our baby and sang a little song to him, although I forgot all the words.
“Awww, that’s so sweet,” Celeste said, as she came into the nursery where I was sitting on the rocking chair.
“Yeah, he woke up and I decided to feed him a bottle and let you sleep,” I said, nodding to the half empty bottle on the bedstand.
Our little guy was having some issues nursing, so Celeste was pumping for him so that we could supplement. It was tiring for her to have to nurse and pump so much, but a benefit was that there were bottles I could feed him so that she could rest.
“Thanks,” she said, smiling sleepily at me. “He has a big day tomorrow.”
“He sure does.”
Our baby was going to get his tongue tie clipped so that hopefully he could nurse better. I hugged the little guy more closely, and then gave him a kiss on the forehead.
“Everything is going to be just fine,” I told him, and Celeste, and myself.
I was trying to sound more confident than I felt. Fatherhood was really doing a number on me, and I was unsure about everything now. I just wanted my family to be safe and sound.
The next day, I held Celeste’s hand as we left the lactation office where the baby’s tongue tie had been clipped. She had had an emergency c-section after the baby had gotten stuck too far up to come out, and so she couldn’t drive. But I would have come to this appointment anyway, because I had been so worried about Shane.
My other hand was holding the baby’s car seat.
“You were right,” Celeste said with a smile, beaming up at me. “Everything went well.”
“He did great,” I said, and I was amazed at how quickly the procedure had gone, compared to how I had feared it might be — long, drawn out and painful.
It had turned out to be the exact oppos
ite, really.
“He barely even cried,” Celeste agreed.
We both smiled down at him as I put him into the car.
“Good job, little guy,” I told him.
Suddenly, the future seemed bright and cheerful. My baby and my wife were going to be okay. They would figure out nursing. And Celeste’s recovery from the surgery was going well. She would be able to drive and do other daily tasks in a couple weeks.
I felt like the luckiest man on the planet. I was so glad I had broken Celeste into my lifestyle, and I was also glad she had changed my own. Now I wasn’t just a Dom. I was a husband, and a father. And a very happy one at that.
THE END
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Sneak Peek of Hate Me Like You Mean It
Check out my enemies to lovers romance collection, part of the Bad Boys and Billionaires Romance Collection series, Hate Me Like You Mean It. Enjoy this sneak peek!
Chapter One - Tina
My father could be a very stubborn man. There were some things he just wasn’t able to let go of, even though they were better left up to me, his now officially adult daughter, to decide.
“You should be living at home,” he was arguing now, even as he carried a mini-fridge into my brand-new dorm room. “Why can’t you commute from our house to this campus?”
“Dad, we’ve been over this,” I pleaded.
Such as, during the whole ride up here. And the past few months leading up to today- that glorious day I started college and could stop living at home. Come to think of it, we’d gone over the fact that I wanted my independence, and my parents didn’t want me to have it, for as far back as I could remember.
I couldn’t believe that he still wouldn’t drop this, no matter how many times we’d been over it. I certainly knew how he felt and that he was very persistent in expressing those feelings, but I was annoyed that he was pushing it so hard today, on my most specialist of days.
“Remember, Dad? I want to meet people. Plus, Kensington State College recommends that I live on campus for the first year. They said it helps freshmen transition to university life way better than if they tried it living off-campus. Or not at all,” I added, with a note of sarcasm.
I knew I should appreciate the fact that my parents were helping me move into my dorm for my freshman year of college. But I didn’t ask for their help and honestly, I didn’t want them here.
My parents were very old fashioned and that often equaled embarrassment. It was always a huge battle with them, to get them to let me do anything on my own.
I couldn’t understand it. I was eighteen, not eight. Didn’t they want me to grow up and be independent? Didn’t they want me to learn how to be an adult?
Quite frankly, I couldn’t wait to be free from their iron grip for a while. I mean, actually having a room to myself where they wouldn’t be constantly looking over my shoulder and judging me just sounded like heaven.
Not that I hated my parents or anything crazy like that, but I knew how they could get, because they were the most over-protective, smothering kind of parents. They liked to crawl up in my business until I couldn’t think and couldn’t even breathe.
It was no wonder I was still a virgin.
But this wasn’t about me wanting to have a better love life- or, hell, any kind of love life at all, considering that my parents didn’t even let me date. This was about me wanting my independence in a lot of different facets of my life.
I wanted to live on campus just so I could meet people alone, in my own space. Without my mother running my life and without having to see my father’s judgmental looks right before he locks me up, Rapunzel-style.
“So, you’ll move back home sophomore year?” Daddy asked hopefully.
He set the mini-fridge down next to the old wooden desk that came with the room. Someone had scratched “party on” into the dented surface.
“Daddy, I love you, but I need to start living on my own,” I explained for the twentieth time, as I walked over and opened the dorm’s only window. “How am I going to learn how if I don’t?”
“I could teach you,” he offered, totally serious.
“You did teach me. For eighteen years,” I corrected, putting a hand on his shoulder. “And now I’m going to put what you taught me into practice. That’s how it’s supposed to work. You’ll see. It’ll be great.”
Mom came in with an armful of my clothes. She found the dresser and started arranging my belongings, just like she did at home.
“I don’t see why you even need to go to college,” she muttered, her long, conservative dress rustling softly.
“Oh my gosh, Mom,” I said, embarrassed, fighting the urge to roll my eyes.
“You just need to find a good and Godly husband,” she insisted. “And you could learn to cook.”
“I know how to cook,” I corrected her, walking over to watch her organize my clothes. “You taught me, remember?”
“It’s just that, well, you’re not that good, dear,” she said, patting my cheek.
I sat down heavily on the twin bed.
I didn’t feel as insulted as I probably should have by that comment.
I hated cooking, anyway.
“Mom, please,” I begged. “Can we not do this? I’m already here. Do you really want to drag me away from the only chance I’ve ever had to see what life holds outside our apartment? Away from the only thing I’ve ever worked towards and pinned my hopes on? Would you seriously trade all my dreams for my return back home today?”
“Yes,” she said determinedly, not looking up from the drawer she was organizing. “Yes, I would. I’m prepared to make that sacrifice.”
“I’m going to move more boxes,” I said, getting up and giving up on the conversation.
I marched outside to the parking lot to get some fresh air before I did something stupid, like snapped and screamed at her. My parents always set me on edge, especially my very religious mother, but today they were reaching new heights.
I calmed myself by thinking, They’re going home in a few hours. Just get through this and they’ll be out of your hair soon.
After saying that about twenty times, I reached my parent’s sedan. I picked up a lamp and a box of stuff for my desk. I tried to think about my class schedule and finding time to go to the book store.
I was already going to have to adjust my schedule. Half the thing the college had automatically signed me up for made no sense. History? Theatre? I was a business major; why would I need those classes?
Apparently, though, this was the norm. We were to learn first what the world was made of, before we learned how to run a business in it. I guess that was ultimately what I was here for. But I tended to get impatient and want to skip ahead to the good stuff.
When I’d visited the campus as a future applicant, we were told that it was usually chaos when the freshman arrived. And now I was seeing it for myself. The parking lot was full of other families and students and their mismatched dorm furnishings.
I had never seen so many tie-dye tapestries, except in movies. I took a little comfort in overhearing some of the other students’ eye-roll-worthy conversations with their own parents.
That was, until I realized how all the other parents actually seemed happy that their kids were going to be in college. If anything, what was annoying to these students was that their parents smothered them with too much love and support.
Wow.
That was never really a problem I’d had. I knew my parents lov
ed me as best as they could, but their concerns for me seemed to stem from what they wanted me to do. I sighed at this sad realization and moved even more quickly to shorten my time with them here.
When I got back to the small dorm room, Dad had my bed frame in pieces and the mattress lifted to the side.
“Dad! What are you doing?” I panicked.
I set the lamp and the box on the floor and hurried over to him.
“Relax,” he said. “I think there’s a screw loose somewhere. I’m just fixing it. I don’t have my tools, so I’m using this dime as a screwdriver.”
“Dad, please put my bed back together,” I said, trying to sound calm.
I didn’t want to start a fight, but he was so embarrassing. I hadn’t met anyone yet, but I would hate to have a new floor mate walk by and see this mess. And it wouldn’t bode well for my future reputation around here if the Resident Advisor were to come into my room right now and see that my dad was already taking apart the desk that was college property.
“We have to pay for things like that if we break them,” I protested, after he ignored me.
“I told you, I’m not breaking it, I’m fixing it,” he assured me. “Give me two minutes.”
My mom came over and put her small hand on my shoulder. She drew me away from my dad and over to the dresser.
“Tina, I put your underwear and bras underneath your sweaters,” she whispered. “That way, the boys can’t see them when you open the drawer.”
“Oh, my God,” I muttered to myself, rubbing my temples.
“What, dear?” she asked.
“I said oh my gosh, Mom,” I corrected myself, knowing how she hated when I took the Lord’s name in vain. “But gee, Mom, umm, thanks for that meticulous drawer organization and for sharing the reasoning behind it. I’m going to the car, again. I forgot, uh, something else. Be right back.”
