by Chelle Bliss
ruined your ability to really trust anyone, especially me, without taking time to build a foundation.”
My eyebrows shoot up and my heart begins to race. “So you, like, want to have a relationship?”
He pauses, staring deep into my eyes, and my mouth feels suddenly dry. “I think we need to take some time to explore your boundaries through a power exchange. We’ll start with simple things. After I feel you’re comfortable and trust me enough, we can take it further.”
My throat tightens and I cough. “What are simple things?”
“I won’t touch you until you beg me, but we’ll see how you follow commands. And when the time is right, and you’re crawling on your hands and knees, pleading with tears in your eyes and your cunt dripping for me, only then will I touch you.”
My stomach flutters and I squirm against the seat. “Okay,” I whisper and lick my lips.
His eyes follow my tongue and his body moves. I glance down, and the light hits his lap in just the right way to give me a perfect view. Ret’s turned on, his hard-on evident through his tight-fitting jeans. “Don’t worry,” he says and pushes his cock down. “I know how to control myself.”
I lean forward, gazing at him. “I’m game.” I smile and hope he doesn’t see my body shaking because my foot is tapping wildly against the floor.
“Let’s set some rules.” He pushes a few strands of his sandy brown hair that had fallen loose away from his eyes.
“Okay,” I say quickly and turn to face him, resting my leg on the booth.
“First, I won’t touch you sexually until you ask. Small touches to anywhere other than your pussy or breasts are allowed, especially if done with purpose.” I swallow hard and nod before he continues. “I want you to follow my commands while here at The Club and also at home.”
My eyes widen slightly and my fingertips tingle. “How?”
“You’ll be available to me via phone and text when we’re not here. If I send you a command, you need to follow it. If it’s something you’re not comfortable with, you can tell me and we can talk about it before moving forward.”
“Understood.” I nod and rest my hand on my knee to stop my leg from shaking anymore.
“You can’t have an orgasm unless I allow you.”
“But—” My lips purse, and he places a finger against them.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get to come. Your greedy cunt will need to at some point. But I want to own every orgasm you have.”
I clear my throat and glance down at his finger as he pulls away. “I can do that,” I say, but I wonder if I can keep the promise.
“We’re going to go over your list of limits soon, but not tonight. Right now, it’s about the power exchange and finding trust in each other.”
I nod slowly and feel my palms begin to sweat. “I like the sound of that.”
“I figured you would.” He smirks before his body shifts, lifting from the seat to reach into his back pocket.
I take the moment to steal a peek at his crotch, and there’s a dull ache that settles between my legs. Somehow, Ret made me forget everything that happened earlier.
He’s holding the phone in one hand and watching me. “What’s your number so I can contact you after I drop you off?”
I glance up and flush when he catches me staring. “Um—” I say before rattling off my number. “I can drive myself tonight.”
He shakes his head and rests his palm against my warm cheek. “You’re in my care now. After a night like tonight, you need someone to look out for your well-being. The first part of that is me taking you home. No arguments.”
“Okay.”
“One more thing.” His grip on my face tightens, his fingers digging lightly into the back of my neck. “You’ll only address me as a Sir or Master from here on out. No more Ret.”
My face moves toward his touch, wanting more contact. “Yes,” I whisper and close my eyes, trying to hide my excitement.
“Let’s get you home. Tomorrow you may feel differently about our arrangement.”
My eyes flutter open and my belly flips. “I won’t,” I tell him because I’ve been itching for a shot at the Master Ret for ages.
Much of the car ride home we sit in silence. I want to touch him, but I keep my hands to myself. When he pulls up in front of my door, I’m not sure what to say. “Thanks,” I squeak out and reach for the handle.
Ret places his hand on my leg. “Wait.”
I turn to face his penetrating gaze. “Yes?”
“I’m giving you one last out before we start. Are you sure you want to do this?”
I nod and smile, glancing down at where his hand is searing my flesh. His finely manicured fingernails rest against my skin. “Yes.” My voice is breathy and full of want.
“Go inside and take a warm bath before you go to bed.”
“I’m more of a shower person,” I reply and wrinkle my nose.
His grip tightens on my thigh. “A bath, I said.”
“Yes,” I say without conviction.
“Do as you’re told, piccola.”
The term makes my toes curl. Maybe it’s the way he holds my leg, but the combination sends tingles down my spine. “I will.”
“Good night,” he tells me, reaching in front of me to push open the door.
“Tomorrow, we start. You’re mine, 24/7.”
I lick my lips, trying to find some wetness besides that which is between my legs. “24/7?”
“You do your normal routine, but when I text, I expect a reply.”
I nod before pushing the door open. When I peer down at his hand, he removes it, and I instantly miss his warmth. “Goodnight, Ret.”
“Goodnight, Alese.”
As I climb out, I almost hate that he uses my name. It sounds beautiful coming from his lips, but not as sweet as piccola. I twist the keys in my hands, trying to walk slowly to my house. I worry that this was all just a dream. Looking over my shoulder, I steal a glance at Ret, waiting in his car and watching.
Raising my hand, I give him a small wave and a smile. He lifts his chin and motions with his hand for me to keep walking. When I unlock the front door, he revs the engine and speeds away.
My feelings are a mess as I take a step inside. Part of me is nervous, hesitant about what lies before me. But then there’s another part. One filled with so much excitement I want to spin around my living room and scream that I’m his.
Just as I’m about to start twirling, I realize this is only temporary. He’s helping me find myself. I frown and collapse onto my couch.
What if I want more?
What if I want this to be longer?
Maybe I can be the woman he wants and he can be the Master I’ve always needed—someone to guide me through my experiences, bringing my fantasies to life.
I give myself a pep talk and decide I’m going to let myself give in. For once, I’m not going to overthink everything.
For now, I’m his piccola.
Four
Alese
When my eyes open and the light filters in through my sheer curtains, I cover my face. For a second, I panic before I remember it’s Saturday. I don’t have to worry about work, grading papers, or answering emails. I can relax all day and maybe catch up on some reading.
I sigh, rolling over, and whimper. My nipples are still tender from where the asshole attached the forceps, the bite of them still on my mind. When I finally fell asleep last night, I dreamed of being trapped with that madman. Every time I closed my eyes, I’d see him.
I bury my face in my pillow and reach for the phone on my nightstand. Using only one eye, I read the screen.
Unknown: Good morning, piccola. When you wake up, snap a photo of your toy chest and send it to me.
Ugh. Rolling over, I hold the pillow against my face and scream. Letting someone peek into my toy box is like giving them a window into my kinky soul. I’ve never shown it to anyone, not even my ex-boyfriends.
When I finally work up the energy to c
limb out of bed, I do everything but send the photo. I brush my teeth, start the coffee, add his name to my contacts, and straighten up my bedroom—the entire time thinking about its contents.
With a fresh cup of coffee on my nightstand, I kneel on the floor and stare at the box under my bed. It looks inconspicuous, but I know the dirty things that are inside. Slowly I reach underneath and slide it out in front of me.
“For the love of God,” I mutter and stare up at the ceiling. “Why?” I don’t know if I expect a reply, but one doesn’t come.
The box has grown over the years and become more intricate. The contents kept me sane through all the breakups in my early twenties. Carefully, I lift the lid and set it on the floor to the side.
“I’m a perv.” I cackle and rock back on my feet before resting my ass on the ground.
Do I take everything out or just send him a photo as is? When it’s all thrown together, it just looks like a jumbled mess of plastic and metal. Taking out a rather large dildo, I feel the weight in my hands and cringe. “Jesus,” I whisper. “You’ve been a great lover, but you’re going at the bottom.”
Although I don’t mind pleasuring myself with it, it’s a bit large to show him right away. I don’t want him to get any ideas. I push aside the contents, toss the dildo to the bottom and cover it up again.
“That’s better,” I tell myself, leaning forward to get a better glimpse, and realize it helped nothing. Nipple clamps, vibrators, dildos, and other particulars are in full view.
Lifting my phone, I snap a picture because maybe it won’t look as bad on the screen as it does with the naked eye. I don’t even have to zoom in to see every kinky lover’s dream chest. The photo has done nothing but accentuate the collection. I turn the flash off to darken the photo, and once I feel it’s hard to make anything out in great detail, I send it to Ret.
Staring at the toys, I smile to myself because I feel sly, like I got one over on him. That is, until my phone beeps.
Ret: Use a flash and lay it out on the floor.
Fuckkkk. He can’t be serious.
Ret: I’m serious.
My mouth hangs open, and I peer over my shoulder, wondering if he can see me. “Bastard,” I whisper to myself as I start to remove every toy and implement and lay them out in two rows.
Row one is for insertables—dildos, vibrators, and plugs. Row two is for everything else. I hadn’t taken stock of my assortment in a while, and I am shocked by the variety and size.
Most of it I purchased after attending a demo at The Club. I figured if I were going to try my hand at being a Domme sometimes, I’d need the tools for the job. Usually, I ended up using them on myself for pleasure because I couldn’t seem to pull the trigger with anyone else.
Covering my face with my hands, I try to figure out how to get out of sending the photos. It won’t all fit on one screen, so I’ll have to take a number of shots. My hands drop from my face when I come up with the brilliant idea to stand and take one shot from far away, hopefully making it difficult to see.
I snap one, with the flash on, and send it off before checking it. After it switches from Delivered to Read, I open it too and zoom in.
“Fucking hell,” I say to myself and scroll to the left.
Everything is visible—clear as fucking day.
I set the phone down in front of me and sit cross-legged before reaching for my cup of java. I keep my eyes on the screen, waiting for his response as I take a sip.
I’m not really embarrassed by my collection, but I’m worried about what he’ll think or use on me. It’s both exciting and scary.
Ret: Thank you, piccola. Send me a photo of your hard and soft limit sheet next.
That, surprisingly, is less worrisome. I’ve shared it with many people during my time as a Club member. It not only covers what I’m willing to do, but also what I’ve done.
I click a few buttons and send it off to him without hesitation.
I shake my head and take another sip, letting the vanilla cream sit on my tongue before swallowing.
Ret: We’ll discuss this list together next time we see each other. Today, I want you to put in the purple butt plug, and don’t take it out unless you must or I tell you to remove it.
I purse my lips, twisting them around. Not because I dread the idea of shoving something in my ass—I’ve done if before, many times. I know that wearing it all day will turn me on. The tiniest movements will send waves of pleasure through me.
Me: Yes.
I sigh and pluck the purple one from the assortment and set it to the side. As I start to throw the toys in the box and wonder how many times today I’ll have to pleasure myself to maintain my sanity, he sends another text.
Ret: You’re not allowed to touch yourself. No coming until I say so.
I flick off the screen and groan.
Ret: Be a good girl and follow directions, and I’ll make it worth your while.
Again, I turn around and wonder if he can see me. I laugh to myself and shake my head because I’m probably not the first girl he’s done this with, and he can see my reactions coming before I do.
I climb up on the bed with the plug and a bottle of lube. “Thank God he didn’t pick the pink one,” I say, covering the plug in the clear lubricant. The pink one I’ve always had issues with inserting on my own.
As I rise up off the bed, balancing my body on one arm, I slide the plug against my asshole and ready myself. Slowly, I work it inside, turning myself on from the contact. A small pinch of pain causes me to wince before it’s fully seated.
I collapse, letting my ass get used to the fullness and wonder how this happened. How did I let Master Ret in?
My phone beeps and I scurry to the edge to see what he says next.
Ret: Take a photo of it.
I gape at the phone. He can’t be serious. I remember what I had on my list. Exhibitionism is marked Yes with a willingness of 5 which means Hell Yes.
Reaching behind, I try to take a good photo without giving him too much of a view. Craning my neck in this manner doesn’t seem to work. I roll onto my back, spread my legs and raise them high in the air. Reaching down, I snap a photo and take a quick peek. Not too shabby.
I send it off to Ret and wait for my next order. I did tell myself last night that I’d give in to him. For once, I’d put my faith in someone else.
Ret: Good girl, piccola. Meet me at The Club tonight at 8 p.m. Remember—no touching.
Me: Yes.
I shake my ass, letting the plug move around, and I can already feel the wetness between my legs. It’s only noon, and I’m dreading the next eight hours of my life.
Five
Ret
I spent the entire day sending her short messages, filled with commands to test her comfort and willingness to comply.
An hour before I leave for The Club, I send her a message with
