Good Girls Say Yes

by Penny Wylder

  It feels different now that I’m wearing his collar. More intimate. More perfect. He stops fully inside me, and I moan louder. Suspended and impaled and collared and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my life. “I love you, Sir.”

  He reaches out and brushes my face. “I love you, Emma.” There’s a moment of perfect silence between us and then his wicked, dangerous smile appears. “And I hope you loved that orgasm because I’m going to take my time with you, and you won’t have another one for a while.”

  I bite my lip, holding back a sassy comeback that will get me a spanking. “Thank you, Master.”

  Matthew grins. “Good girl.” And he starts to fuck me again.

  Epilogue

  One Year Later

  Looking in the mirror, I barely recognize myself. Lily is a miracle worker. My hair is perfectly curled and piled up on my head in a way I would never be able to accomplish myself, and my friend Emily has done my make-up perfectly. All that’s really left is for me to get dressed, and that thought makes my breath catch because I’m getting married today.

  Six months ago Matthew asked me to marry him. I don’t think I’ve ever said yes to something faster.

  Being with Matthew has been everything I ever wanted. It’s not like some people say, like they found a piece of themselves that was missing. Matthew showed me that I’m not missing any pieces, but he complements me and I complement him, and together, our puzzle works better because we have each other.

  “You look beautiful,” Lily says, appearing in the mirror behind me.

  “Thank you.” I smile at her. We’d grown apart, but now, sharing the lifestyle, we’ve become best friends again. I’m not sure what I would have done without her this last year, being able sharing my experiences as a new sub and getting her insight. Lily’s relationship is very different from mine. Hers is far stricter, and she thrives within the rules that she and Mark have negotiated. But even though it’s different, she’s been doing this a lot longer than I have, and she’s soothed my anxiety more than once.

  Of course I still have anxiety about all of it. I don’t think anyone who chooses this life doesn’t. It’s not easy, and I don’t take as naturally to it as some. But we’ve found our rhythm, Matthew and I. It’s strange, because we have a routine, and it’s been disrupted the last few days. Last night we didn’t sleep in the same bed, and I honestly can’t remember the last time that happened. I haven’t even seen him today, and I’m unsettled by it.

  “Are you nervous?” Lily asks, picking up on my fidgeting hands.

  I shake my head. “I’m really not. I just haven’t seen Matthew today.”

  “It’s weird, isn’t it?” Jenny asks from where she’s sitting across the room. “How much you miss them?”

  I nod, because I know what she means. I don’t miss him like someone I haven’t seen in a while. I miss him because when I’m with him I feel safe. I feel cherished. I feel…seen. I’m actually procrastinating, because Matthew told me he would stop by before I put on my dress. I can’t put it on before he gets here, because we’re having a more traditional wedding than Lily and Mark, and if my mother found out he saw me in my dress before the wedding she would lose her shit.

  Even as freaked out as I was during Lily’s wedding, I’m a little sad that Matthew won’t be collaring me during our ceremony. I have a very traditional family, and I care about them a lot. Plus, they love Matthew. But they wouldn’t if they knew the lifestyle we led, and so we’ve opted for something a little more traditional. I’m wearing the necklace he gave me the day he told me he loved me—I’ve never taken it off—and our lifestyle friends know exactly what it means.

  There’s a soft knock at the door and my eyes fly to it. It’s him. I’m familiar with the sound of his knock. Matthew opens the door and my heart jumps into my throat. He’s already in his tuxedo, and damn he looks good. I mean, he always looks good but this is a whole other level.

  “Ladies,” he says, smiling and looking around the room. “I need a moment with Emma.”

  I told them he was coming, and all my bridesmaids are submissives, so they leave the room quickly and quietly. He closes the door after them as they go. “Hello,” he says.

  “Hi.” I can’t keep the smile off my face even though I’m looking at him in the mirror. He comes over to the chair, hands landing on my shoulders. He heals down and presses a kiss to my cheek. “I missed you last night.”

  “Me too.” More than I can even tell him. Just the brush of his lips on my skin is enough to make me wet. Matthew had the idea that we wouldn’t have sex the week before the wedding, and this whole week he’s been teasing me. Drawing me close in bed and touching every part of my body with his hands and his mouth but never even letting me get close to coming. It’s been a delicious frustration and I’ve been on edge for days.

  He, of course, has had relief. Every morning, as a part of our rules, I offer him my mouth for him to use as he wishes. He’s promised that tonight will be worth it, and I don’t have any doubt. But I’m still ready to jump him just because he’s this close. “If it weren’t going to ruin your make-up I would be tempted to complete our morning routine.”

  I give him a look in the mirror. “A taste of your own medicine, Sir.”

  “I’ll remember your attitude tonight,” he says, smirking.

  “Why did you want to see me before the dress? Besides avoiding my mother’s wrath?”

  “I wanted to put you into your corset.” Another kiss, this one on my shoulder.

  My breath catches. “Oh.” I stand, and I peel off the robe I’m wearing. My corset is loose underneath. We’ve done this often enough, and I hold onto the back of the chair while he tightens the stays around my ribs until I feel like they won’t lace any tighter.

  “I remember the first time I laced you into a corset,” Matthew says softly.

  “I hated it.”

  He laughs. “Yes. You also looked fucking hot.”

  I smirk at him. “Good to know.”

  Matthew tugs at the laces and knots them. I stand, trying to get used to the sensation of being compressed. He turns me to face him. “Do you remember what I told you about the corset? The metaphor?”

  I nod.

  He presses a light kiss to my lips, careful not to smudge my lipstick. “Kneel, Emma.”

  Sinking to my knees feels like home, like safety. “You may look at me.” His fingers are under my chin, holding my gaze.

  “The metaphor is still true, even more so now that you’ll be my wife as well as my submissive. But you can’t always be wearing a corset. You’re going to wear a ring as the symbol of our marriage, but I don’t like that it gets more representation than our power exchange, which is equally important.”

  My hand flies to my necklace, and I think my heart skips a beat. “Sir? I thought I was already wearing your collar?”

  He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small, flat box. “You are wearing my collar, but I think that this one is better.” Opening the box, he reveals a beautiful silver choker. There’s filigree carvings along the band, and I can’t wait to look at what they all are. It’s thin enough to look like a decorative necklace, but there will be no doubt to those people in the lifestyle that this is a collar. A real collar. Unexpected tears spring up, and I can’t take my eyes off of it.

  “I know that we’re not doing it in the ceremony, but I thought this was important. I love you, as my wife and as my sub.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  He steps behind me and unfastens the necklace I’ve worn for over a year. My neck feels bare and empty without it. But it’s only a few seconds before the new one slides around my neck. It’s snug against my skin, almost most too tight, but not. Immediately I understand why this fits the metaphor. It’s tight enough that I’ll always be aware of him and my submission even if he isn’t present.

  “This collar is different than the last one,” he says. I can feel his fingers on my skin while he’s fastening it. “The wa
y it closes, it screws together, and requires a special key to unlock.”

  My mind goes quiet, and I sink into that place of peace and perfect centering that sometimes comes in moments like this. By accepting this, I’m surrendering to this, to him. I’m brave and complete and safe and whole. I lean back against Matthew’s legs and relax against the solidness of his presence.

  I feel him move, and he appears in front of me. “Emma?”

  “Master?”

  “Are you all right?”

  The smile that comes from me feels like sunshine is bursting out of me. “I’m perfect. Thank you, Master.”

  He kisses me, this time a little less careful about my make-up, and I’m starting to think we should skip the ceremony and go straight to the honeymoon when he pulls away. He lifts me to my feet. “How does the corset feel?”

  “It feels good.”

  He gives me that grin that lets me know I’m not going to like what comes next. “Turn around. It needs to be tighter.”

  * * *

  The wedding swirls by in bright flashes of color and joy and kissing and dancing. It feels like I experience everything but at the same time it flies by and is over almost immediately. It is, by far, the happiest day of my life.

  My bridesmaids freaked out when they came into the dressing room again and saw the new collar.

  It’s late in the night when Matthew and I run through a crowd of people and sparklers to the car that’s going to take us home. Home for the night and then we leave on our honeymoon tomorrow. I’m both energized and exhilarated at once, and as I collapse inside the limo I’m not sure what I want more: to jump Matthew or to just go to sleep. But then again, that’s not up to me.

  Matthew gives a final wave to our friends and shuts the door to the limo, leaning back beside me and gathers me to him even though we’re both swallowed up by the fabric of my gown. “Hello, wife,” he says in my ear.

  “Hello, husband.” I close my eyes, resting my head against his chest.

  “Are you ready to play?”

  I laugh a little. “I’ll be honest, Sir, I am very tired.”

  “I would have thought that after a week you’d be more than ready for me to have my way with you.” His hand tightens on my waist, and I his words sink in.

  “That depends, Sir,” I say. “Are you planning on teasing me some more?”

  “I always tease you.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Matthew smiles, taking my mouth in a kiss that absolutely sets me on fire. “I haven’t built up this much anticipation for nothing, sub.”

  “How long till we get home?”

  It doesn’t matter, I’m very occupied until we get there, Matthew kissing me like I’m oxygen and he’s suffocating. When we pull up to the house I’m dazed and aroused and Matthew has to lead me from the car. We don’t go to our bedroom; we go straight to the playroom.

  A large metal frame stands in the middle of the room, and it’s not lost on me that there are plenty of points for restraints. “That’s new.”

  Matthew shoots me a look, and I drop my gaze. In this room, we’re in protocol, always. Which means I have too many clothes on. I turn, and Matthew helps unfasten my dress. I leave the corset on, because I don’t know what he has planned. Anticipation is growing in my gut, and I’m already wet just thinking about it.

  He’s barely going to have to touch for me to come. I’m so on edge that almost anything will do it. I’m suddenly aware of my new collar, just tight enough to remind me who I am and who Matthew is. I run my finger along it, feeling the tiny ridges of the design, but I don’t look up.

  There’s the sounds of metal on metal, and then some rustling, and soon, Matthew’s feet appear in front of me. “Stand, Emma, and hold out your wrists.”

  I’m used to being cuffed, but these aren’t just cuffs. These are almost like leather mittens. I’ve seen them used, but we’ve never played with them. It fits snuggly around my fingers while I make a loose fist, and Matthew hands me a ball to hold in my right hand before he straps on the other mitten. As soon as Matthew finishes I understand why they’re used. I can’t use my fingers. My feeling of vulnerability and helplessness doubles. I squeeze the ball, and it makes a high pitched squeaking sound.

  Matthew’s mouth tips up into a half-smile, but he doesn’t tell me what it’s for yet. He will, but not until he’s ready. Guiding me to the frame, he locks my cuffs to the outer corners, and I subtly try to move my hands while he cuffs my ankles and locks them to the bottom corners of the frame. I can’t move, but he goes one step further, attaching a bar between my ankles so I can’t even try to close my legs. Heat rolls through me, and there’s a surge of wetness in my pussy. Every choice he takes away, every movement he restricts turns me on.

  As if he’s reading my mind, Matthew runs his fingers through my pussy and grins. “Waiting was a good idea. You’re dripping. Maybe we should do more chastity play if it’s going to turn you on this much.”

  I almost have to bite my lips to keep from telling him that no, that’s not a good idea. Later, when we’re not in this room, I’ll be able to talk to him about that. But here I say, “Yes, Sir.”

  “I have good news and bad news, Emma.”

  “Sir?”

  He’s standing in front of me, and he idly strokes a finger around my nipple as he speaks. “For the rest of the night, you can come whenever you want. You don’t have to ask permission.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “The bad news is that I’m going to deprive your senses.”

  There’s a sinking in my gut, and I’m not sure what it means. I’m not afraid, but I also know that Matthew is creative, and if he can find a way to draw out the pleasure, to make sure I know that he’s in charge, he’ll do it.

  “That little ball that’s in your hand,” he says. “For tonight, that’s your safeword. Squeeze it for me?”

  I do, and it’s a shrill sound.

  “I’m going to blindfold you. I’m going to gag you. You’ll be wearing noise-cancelling headphones.”

  I feel my eyes widen. “Why, Sir?”

  Matthew cups my face, kisses me, and I try to sway my body towards him, to feel more of it, but I can’t because of the way I’m bound. “You know why,” he says. “Because when you deprive your senses the others are heightened. And because you’re offering your trust in me.”

  “It’s our wedding night,” I say. “I want to be able to see you. To touch you. Sir.” I add on at the end.

  “Don’t worry,” he says. “This isn’t the only thing I have planned. You’ll be seeing plenty of me.”

  He retrieves a blindfold and covers my eyes. My heart begins to race, and I bite my lip. I always get nervous at first. Matthew knows that, and he strokes his hands down my body, knowing exactly where to touch me to relax and arouse me, and make me forget that I’m blindfolded. He undoes the ties of my corset, slowly loosening until he can remove it completely. I can breathe so much deeper, and yet I feel even more vulnerable. Being tied in so tight is kind of like armor, and now that that’s gone I know that we’re here, in the scene. I’m his.

  “You know the drill,” he says. “What is your safeword?” I squeeze the ball in response. “God girl. Squeeze that and I’ll check in with you, find out what’s going on.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Open.”

  I open my mouth, and he fits the ball of a gag between my teeth. We don’t often use these. In fact, we don’t often use any of these things, which is probably why he saved them for tonight. And then there are headphones placed over my ears and the world goes utterly silent.

  Almost immediately it feels like I’m floating. No sound penetrates the headphones, and I’m suspended in nothing but black. There’s no sense of time or space, only the infinite, peaceful darkness.

  Something touches my skin and I jump. It’s a flogger, grazing along the outside of my thigh. It tickles, and the sensation ripples through me. I’m so aroused, it goes straight
to my clit. The flogger plays over my skin, never harder than a thud, up and down my body, warming my skin and making me aware of even the slightest touch.

  The leather flicks harder across my breasts and I gasp because the leather is followed by Matthew’s hand. Massaging my skin, rolling my nipple between his fingers. My back arches toward him, and I’m a little off balance because of the frame. Another strike on my breast and more fingers. More stroking. My nipples are hard peaks in his hands and I gasp when his mouth covers one.

  Matthew has an incredibly talented tongue, and it swirls and flicks over my skin, sending lines of pure heat through me. And then he switches to my other breast, taking his time. His teeth scrape my skin and by the time he lets me go my nipples are so hard they’re aching.

  Pain bites into my skin and I lose my breath for a second before I realize what it is—just in time for the second pain to hit. Clamps. He’s using clamps on me. Oh god. It hurts, and yet the pain throbbing with my heartbeat makes me even more aware of my body. I can feel my pulse everywhere.

  Matthew tugs on the clamps, and I moan. It hurts and feels good and I’m not sure which it is. I’m not a masochist, but somehow he manages to make me like the little pain he gives me.

  I cry out through the gag, because there’s the slightest touch on my clit, and I’m so sensitive that it feels so good and even more so because I don’t know what’s going to happen next. The touch increases, and—oh god it’s his tongue. He licks into me, softly at first and then faster, deeper, and I come. I flood his mouth with it, and the orgasm rips through me like a match being struck because it’s been a week of non-stop torture and always being ready for it.

  But Matthew doesn’t stop, he keeps working my clit with his tongue, sealing his mouth over it and sucking deep. My thighs are shaking with it, because it feels like I don’t stop coming. I’m drowning in the dark pleasure, writhing against it, sinking deeper into it. He fucks me with his tongue until I’m sagging against my restraints, spent with the pleasure, and only then does he let me go.