by Mrs. Darling
I flop down and when he trusts I am not lifting up again I hear more shuffling in the bag. Leo moves his other hand off my back. I close my eyes and enjoy the post-orgasm glow. Until I feel something being inserted in my rear passage. Then I freak out.
Leo and I have tried this before. Drunken, late-night spontaneous attempts at anal sex and the searing pain immediately stopping us. We’ve given up hope. Certain that anal sex is off the table, I enjoy watching it and getting off to the idea. The unattainable aspect was so hot. Now the unattainable is supposed to become reality? Nope. Nuh-uh. I do my best to squirm off his lap; he does his best with one arm to pin me in place, shushing me.
“Shhh darlin, it’s ok. It’s just me, it’s ok.”
Partly because of his comfort and partly because of his being physically stronger than me I force myself to go back to the position. I breathe deep, heart speeding up, knowing I am in good hands. Tears well up again and I can’t identify if they are tears of fear or of the sweet release of surrender. Probably a little bit of both.
He rubs his free hand over my back and moans quietly, “Good girl, Chloe. Good job. I’m proud of you. Listen up. If you want me to slow down, what do you say?”
“Yellow,” I mutter, sounding defeated already.
“And to stop? I want to hear you say it out loud now, to know it’s on your lips if you want it,” Leo asks in a gentle tone, still caressing my back.
Sighing, sounding like the saddest word in the world leaving my lips: “Red.”
“Are you saying red now?” he asks clearly.
There is my choice in this matter. I have already made it this far so I simply say, “No.”
Smack! Stinging heat spreads across my butt cheeks and I stammer, “No, Sir.”
Leo is done talking. One hand rubbing my smooth back and the other is holding something, a plug or a dildo or something.
There it is again, up against my other hole. It feels wrong, only in that all of my life nothing has been inserted there. It is a small point and Leo moves slowly. He inserts the object a half inch and pauses, allowing my body to adjust.
Then a half inch again. Pause. Push. Pause. I feel “it” increasing in diameter, stretching me out while filling me deeper. I feel invaded. Helpless. The word is there on my lips; I am glad Leo made me say it before starting.
I keep mum and he continues to stretch me out. There is fear there: of mess, of dirtiness, of failing. I do my best to get rid of the “what-ifs” and only feel. What I feel is the pain beginning. It is a stretching fire and I cry out.
I lay there and work through it while I am lubed up more and given a moment to adjust. I focus on anything else: my breathing, the light coming from the bathroom, the smell of my sex in the air. Anything to avoid the pain.
Until he moves again. This time slowly and continuously.
I am breathing deeply like in yoga. I am able to feign mind over body, pushing past the pain and accepting this. The increase in diameter increases the pain but also the pleasure and the desire for more.
It fills me up entirely and there is a release of the searing sensation and it is simply “up there.” A small base is holding what I can now surmise is an anal plug (larger than I would have chosen if it had been me from the feel of it) and it feels... phenomenal. I am filled up in a new way and it has me grinding my hips against Leo’s lap.
He uses his hands to pull me up into a standing position for the first time since we began and the plug shifts inside of me. It feels stimulating as it plays with my insides. The walls inside my vagina push together in a tighter way than normal. I look at Leo with a giant grin on my face; he is smiling wide too.
He says, “Go get me a wet towel for my hands.”
My face shifts from happiness to horror.
“I can’t walk!” I squeak.
Mr. Donnovan laughs at me and insists, “Sure you can. Towel. Now.”
I give a pouting and sarcastic, “Yes, Sir. Your wish is my command.”
I squeeze my butt cheeks together and tip toe awkwardly towards the connected bathroom. It feels awkward and sexy at the same time. He snorts behind me and once I arrive back, handing him a warm, soapy hand towel as ceremoniously as possible, he directs me, “Sit.”
Hesitating, I slowly move my full buttocks towards the mattress in the empty spot next to him. The pressure increases and my nipples harden.
Leo leans forward and kisses my forehead, beard scratching my nose. I rub the spot while I watch him get up, cross the bedroom to the closet, and return with two clothespins.
Standing in front of me, where I sit with my new plug drilling me, Leo pinches my nipple tight, twists, pinches harder, twists painfully again, and clamps the teeth of the wooden pin across my areola. I inhale sharply and deeply, feeling an instant connection between the pain flaming across my chest and my hungry cunt. It is as if the two are meant to be experienced together.
He bends over and kisses the top of my head, murmuring, “Nice Chlo, very nice.”
I flush with pride as he pulls my next breast out and repeats. Again, the pleasure flows to my genitals. I am aroused all over but feel empty where it counts. I reach to unzip my husband’s pants and stop, realizing I am not in charge. My hands hesitate mid-air and I promptly lay them back in my lap.
I look up at Leo, feeling horny and naughty, and while I stare into his eyes I open my mouth. Wide. It’s a gesture; an offering to him. He accepts.
I watch my husband as he slips his belt out of the belt loops, the sound of the sliding and slipping leather adding to my excitement. He unbuttons and unzips his slacks and in one swoop, his lower half is bare and his dick springs out, straight as an arrow and rock hard. Mouth still open as far as I can get it, the only thing I move is my eyebrows, asking him without speaking to take advantage of my oral skills.
He hesitates no more; I devour him.
As I slurp up his hardness, I begin to bounce up and down just the slightest and for the first time in my life I feel I am experiencing anal sex.
Before I can even begin to enjoy sucking on my husband, he pulls out of my throat and a moan of regret escapes my lips. He yanks me off the edge of the bed and flips me around doggy style. Without hesitation, he plunges into my cream.
“Ahhhh... fu-uu-uuck...” is all I can coherently moan.
The thin wall separating my two main holes is being stretched thin. Not only is Leo at a steady and swift pace pounding my pussy, he is keeping equal rhythm by pressing the back end of my plug harder into my rear. I have never been double penetrated and it only takes a minute of the fullness to start to beg:
“Puhh-lease Leo, may I come, puh-uh-uh-leeeease!”
“No, you better not. Not yet. Unnn-uuuhhhh.” he hoarsely answers.
It takes every bit of focus I have to prevent my release. Breathing heavily, I continue being taken. Distract, distract, distract. Don’t come. Stay focused for him. For Leo. Do as he commands and be rewarded. Go against him and be punished. It’s becoming ingrained now.
Pound, pound, pound. I feel like I am being split in two from behind; my knees get wobbly from the intensity of the fucking. The intensity of his dominance.
I am not his wife right now; I am his anal slut, just like I had sought out. I build to my peak again and his hand reaches down to my bottom and the strange object there. He grasps the base in his fist and begins slowly pulling it out of me, the bulbous end stretching my hole.
Leo rips it out of me and plunges his cock there instead. I back up to him, taking his size with ease now.
“Come.”
I do. I let go of the control I have been using to prevent my orgasm and it spills out of me now. Leo is coming too, holding himself as deep in as possible and filling me up. We are a sopping mess of mingling juices flowing down my leg. For what feels like an eternity, long after he finished squirting inside me, I feel the come roll out of me.
I have wetness covering every inch of my thighs, calves, and feet.
He finally brea
ks the bond and empties the man out of me. I collapse in a heap of submissive woman onto my knees at his feet, feeling wet floor underneath me and an aching emptiness inside of me.
There at his feet after accomplishing the impossible together: I would have done anything in the world for Leo Donnovan. His command would be mine. I keep that knowledge hidden in my heart, afraid of what it may mean to us. The feeling will haunt me for months to come. I’d risk about anything to keep this in my life. Maybe even risk forgiving.
Chapter Nine: Paper Anniversary
The following weekend ushers in our anniversary. Leo has two days off and we putz around lazily the first morning. I set Emily in her walker and she scoots around the kitchen while I swap the tiny dishwasher from clean to dirty in between frying bacon. I flip on some tunes and sashay while keeping house. Leo is off... somewhere. Getting ready for the day perhaps?
I’ve begun to see my daily tasks as a thank you to my husband for providing for us financially and find new joy in doing chores with purpose. I fix Leo’s eggs in his favorite style, making sure when I butter his toast not to get any on the crust because he hates his hands messy from eating, and when I squeeze a slice of lemon into his ice water I take the time to grab a spoon and fish out the seeds that fall into his glass. They’re simple gestures and don’t take much more time or effort but I feel like I am showing him respect.
“Happy anniversary, my love!”
I turn towards the door as Emily rolls over to her father. He is standing there freshly showered holding two dozen white roses. My favorite. I move to smell them (and him) and give him a kiss hello.
“Well thank ya mister, they’re stunning. Happy anniversary to you too.” I move to toss last week’s pink roses that are wilting and replace them with the fresh ones.
“But you know you can just get me a dozen roses now. I don’t work and there’s really no need.”
Leo picks up our girl and carries her over to me. He kisses me on the forehead, then meets my twinkling eyes with a serious stare and says:
“You work Chloe, you have the hardest job I can imagine. You’re a wonderful mother to my daughter and no amount of flowers could show my thanks for taking such good care of her. Now. Where’s my bacon?”
He winks and sits down with Em at the table. We small talk about life over breakfast: Leo’s work and interesting clients, the satisfaction in his career that mirrors my newfound satisfaction in homemaking, the weather, our anniversary dinner later, my new mommy friends from a playgroup I’ve joined.
We laugh and ask questions and for just a moment we are the old us again, best friends, nothing so serious, playful, enjoying being each other’s confidant first. I make a mental note to remember this unimportant moment and the lesson that lives here.
We don’t always have to be “on.” Living as Dominant and submissive isn’t about living naked and on your knees and awaiting direction all the time. It’s just two people, in a relationship, living the ebb and flow of daily life. It’s life with the knowledge that the Dominant is in control of the decisions. Simple as that. Something seeming so big is actually quite basic. Regular life, only with power exchanged.
I move to clear the plates but Leo says he will instead; tells me to go pack up a diaper bag for the day.
I ask him where we are going and he smiles instead of answering. I roll my eyes as I leave the room with Emily to count out diapers and burp cloths and changes of clothing and pacifiers and toy keys.
When we meet at the door I blush and realize my all too common mistake: “Ahh shit Leo, look at me.”
I realize that I am still in sweats with never-brushed hair from sleeping. I have gotten rid of all of my maternity stuff like I had promised myself but I have to be comfy sometimes, right? How could I have forgotten to change? Sigh. I can be so absent minded sometimes.
He looks me over, trying and failing not to laugh; he points to my head, saying, “Ponytail” and then to my lower half saying, “Yoga pants.”
I dash off while Leo and Emily head out to cool down the car. Once we all gather again, we drive off the thin strip of land surrounded by water where our beach house sits and head into the actual city.
I relax and relish in the happiness that is Leo being in charge. No petty bickering like before: the constant, “Well, I don’t care what we do, what do you want to do today?” and “I don’t care either, whatever you want.”
We pull into a local department store and I perk up. Oh my goodness. I hope we are going shopping. Are we going shopping? I love shopping. We walk inside and I smell the newness, smiling dreamily.
I push Emily absentmindedly in the stroller, following my husband as he walks straight to the... linens department register?
Ok what is he up to?
The sales lady picks up a phone and calls somebody. Leo walks back to his girls and I ask him, teasingly, “What the hell, Sir?”
“You’ll see,” is the only response I get back and he places a hand into the small of my back and leads me through the bright fluorescent light and smelling just sampled perfume.
I see a stylish young woman headed towards us at a brisk clip and like most mommies I push the stroller over to the side of the aisle to make room. The woman slows as she gets closer though and stops in front of us.
“Mr. Donnovan?” she asks, extending her arm to shake with Leo.
Leo does and confirms, “Mandy? Hi, I’m Leo and this is my wife, Chloe, and our daughter Emily.”
This “Mandy” shakes my hand and gives the obligatory greeting to Emily; with a giant smile she says, “Follow me, Mr. and Mrs. Donnovan.”
She walks away brusquely. I follow with an eyebrow raised, Leo giving a light laugh and a kiss on my forehead, saying with a grin, “Follow her, I guess.”
Mandy is halfway through the store and I push the buggy quickly to catch up with the long legged woman in a snazzy peach suit. Reaching the women’s section we slow down, walking into a small room just off of the fitting rooms. Mandy puts her bottom on the edge of a desk and says to Leo, “Ok sir, tell me a bit more of what you’re looking for today. You said on the phone you’re looking for a new wardrobe for your wife. Let’s talk about what exactly she needs.”
My jaw can do nothing but drop to the floor. I am flattered but uncomfortable; so thought of but ashamed it came to this. Tears well up as the woman (obviously now a personal shopper) and my husband talk about me in front of me.
“Mandy as you can see my wife is a stunning young new mother who needs a little... er... ‘help.’ She wears gym clothes everywhere and needs new casual wear. Show her clothes that are appropriate for her new body and her new job at home.”
Leo pauses and glances at me as a big fat tear spills over my cheek. He’s shocked and asks the woman to excuse us. I can finally cry. I cover my face in shame.
To his credit the mister doesn’t miss a beat. My thoughtful husband reaches in the diaper bag to find her toy keys and hands them to Emily in the stroller, and then embraces me.
I tuck my messy head into the nook of his shoulder and hold tight. He whispers, “Darlin, this is supposed to be a good thing-”
“It is-” I sob and he shushes me quiet.
“I’m here with you. I want to help you be everything you can be, to be comfortable in your skin. Just trust me on this. Can you trust me?”
There is that question again. Can I trust Leo Donnovan?
I sigh out, “OK,” with my bottom lip trembling.
I hurl my apology as fast as I can:
“Leo I am so sorry I have let myself go if that is why you sought out somebody else I am sorry I brought you to that and I understand that I have not been very sexy for some time now-”
His voice stops me with an edge as sharp as a knife, “Stop. Chloe. Don’t you fucking dare, don’t you ever blame what I did on yourself. Never again. This isn’t about that. This is about me allowing you to become who you want to be. Find some clothes you enjoy, clothes that make you feel as sexy as I see you.
That’s it. Just clothes. This is supposed to be an enjoyable thing. Together. I’ll be right here, Chloe, right by your side.”
Once composed I look up to him and say, more sure this time, “Ok. Let’s do this. I... I trust you.”
He kisses me on the lips this time and I taste my tears.
Leo goes to find the personal shopper and I smile at Emily to lift my spirits. I hear Leo through the open door, “I like her in dresses or skirts, whichever she prefers. Cool colors, particularly purple, make her eyes stand out. She always wants to wear black. She gets one black dress, no more. I want her in color, bright, like her. She is a bit of a... I dunno... hippie. Flowy things. She needs undergarments, both nice and day to day things. Accessories, like shoes and whatever else. And tonight is our first anniversary. She needs a fancy dress. Let her surprise me. I’ll be here with the baby and I want to see what she’s trying on.”
Leo walks back in the shoebox of an office looking like a modern day prince offering his hand delicately to mine. I kiss Emily good-bye and give him my hand to lead me, feeling more like a lady than my mussed hair and too big clothes should allow.
Mandy takes me through the store and we look at everything. I point out garments that I think are stylish; she suggests things that land in the fitting room regardless of my opinion. We get into a pretty good routine.
The personal shopper hands me bundles of clothes to try and I put each piece on and walk out for Leo to see. He sits on the couch in the waiting room with Emily who keeps him company while watching. Each new garment he’ll advise on: shakes his head no, nods yes, or says things like, “I liked the other long grey skirt better” or “hem it a few inches” or just “wow.” It does become fun (though exhausting) and at the end I really do have a brand new, beachy, bohemian chic wardrobe. Accessories included.
Garment bags in tow, I hug Mandy good-bye but Leo surprises me again by halting at the designer makeup counter. A made up woman loads me up with tips and tricks and more tubes and bottles and sticks and brushes and wands than I can probably use in my lifetime.
