by Tara Sue Me
I heard a zipper being unzipped in front of me. Even though I knew it wouldn’t be anyone else, the thought crossed my mind it could be.
“I’m taking my cock out, Abigail.”
I opened my mouth, ready to have him inside me and eager to please him.
“Not today. That mouth doesn’t deserve my cock in it. Your pussy doesn’t either.”
I closed my mouth and blinked back tears under the blindfold.
“Straighten your spine and lace your hands behind your back. Keep your head up.”
Doing so pushed my chest forward. Obviously his intention.
“What do you think, gentlemen?” he asked. “Have you ever seen anything hotter than a submissive bowing before her Master’s cock?”
“Mark her tits,” S said and the other men cheered.
“I’m stroking my cock, Abigail,” Nathaniel said. “It’s getting so hard. Just think, if you had behaved, I wouldn’t have to use my hands. I’d be pumping my dick in and out of you. Fucking you nice and hard, just the way we both like.” He groaned. “I’m stroking it faster. Faster.”
I loved the sight of him masturbating and he wasn’t even going to let me enjoy that. I listened as hard as I could, taking in his breathing as it grew shorter and shorter. I imagined his hands working his erection while listening to the sounds of flesh against flesh.
“They’re all watching,” he panted out. “Looking at you kneeling on the floor, ready to take my release.” He groaned again. “Are you bored now? Think your readers want to hear about you with your breasts pushed out, silently begging for your Master to mark them? I marked them earlier with the crop. Now I’m going to mark them with my release.”
I held as still as possible. I couldn’t see anything, but I could picture it vividly in my head. I grew wet between my thighs, but I did my best to ignore it.
This isn’t about me. This isn’t about me. I am here for my Master and I take pleasure only if he allows.
“Fuck,” he ground out. “Here it comes. All over those gorgeous tits.”
I didn’t move as he released on me. I only wished I wasn’t blindfolded so I could see. This wasn’t something he did often, but I always got a secret thrill out of it when he did. It felt so primitive. So raw. I loved the feel of his pleasure on me.
“So damn hot,” he said. “On your knees. Wearing my collar. Decorated with my release.”
He zipped himself back up and there was rustling around me as the other men started to chat among themselves.
Nathaniel stroked my head. “Stay where you are.”
It wasn’t the same as acting like a table. Instead I felt sort of like a statue. Unmoving. In place for the amusement of others. After Nathaniel’s commentary on my thoughts while on the couch, I revised my thinking while I knelt on the floor.
I wasn’t just a statue. I was Nathaniel’s statue and I was an object of desire. Especially when I was marked by him the way I was. I held still while the men did whatever it was they were doing. I steered my focus away from my knees when they began to ache and focused on being and doing what Nathaniel wanted.
“I have to leave now, Pretty Abby,” the unknown man with the smooth voice said. “But thanks to this afternoon, you’ll be joining me in my fantasies tonight.”
He didn’t touch me, but his words washed over me like a sensual caress. I bet he could drive submissives wild with that seductive voice. It hit me then. I had no idea what he looked like.
“Thank you, Nathaniel,” he said. “I’ll confirm everything tomorrow with my admin, but it all looks good from my end.”
“Thank you, DeVaan,” Nathaniel replied and I heard the two walk to the door.
That left the other two men still in the room. The familiar one and Jeff.
They both walked up behind me at the same time.
“A pleasure as always,” the familiar one said. “Though a bit different than last time.”
It took me only a few seconds to place the voice as being Simon’s. The first thought that entered my head was, “What was he doing in Delaware?” That was quickly followed by my surprise at not recognizing him immediately. I wondered what he thought about taking part in the fantasy I had talked about at lunch a few months ago.
“Why don’t you go freshen up in the bathroom,” Nathaniel said as soon as everyone had left.
That sounded like a wonderful idea, so I took my time with my shower and blowing my hair dry. While I’d been bathing, he’d hung a white fluffy robe on the door hook. I slipped it on, sighing at its softness.
I opened the door and gasped.
“Master.”
He’d placed lit candles on every flat available surface and put on soft piano music. Since the walls were painted a simple off-white, everything looked and felt soft and inviting. In the middle of the room was a massage table covered with thick warm towels. Nathaniel stood beside it, holding out his hand.
I walked to him and he began to untie my robe. “You’ve given yourself to me for the last few days. You’re serving me well.” He ran his hands up my body, sliding the robe from my shoulders. “Now I want to serve you for a while.”
A shiver ran through my body and he dropped a tiny kiss first on one shoulder and then the other.
“You’re incredible,” I said. “Do you know that?”
“If I am, it’s because you make me that way,” he whispered in my ear. “Up on the table, on your belly.”
I kissed his cheek before getting into position. He followed behind, pulling more towels and a blanket over me. He started by caressing my back and shoulders over the blanket, and I sighed at how good his hands felt. Gently, he worked his way down my back, slowly increasing the intensity of his hands. After a few minutes, he eased the blanket midway down my back and swept my hair to one side. He pressed a kiss at the nape of my neck, causing my skin to pebble with gooseflesh. He laughed and kissed me again.
He slowly took his time working the knots out of my back and shoulders. After he worked his way down my arms, the entire room smelled like the citrus ginger lotion he used. My eyes grew heavy.
“You have the most amazing hands,” I mumbled at one point. “You make everything feel so good.”
He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed the palm. “Your hands are pretty amazing, too.”
“Yeah, but you don’t let me massage you.”
“Nope,” he agreed. “Massage after play is for me to do for you. It’s my way of caring for you.”
It was an argument we’d had often over the years. His insistence that the aftercare he gave me wasn’t something I could perform on him. Certain things we did together. A shared bath and glass of wine was a favorite. Or holding each other in bed or on the couch. And sometimes we’d just make love, a sensual easement back into our weekday lives.
“I’d argue with you, but I’m too relaxed right now,” I teased. “I’ll eventually work my strength back, though, and then you better look out.”
“Oh?” He lifted the blanket and started massaging my right leg.
“Yeah,” I said with a yawn. “As soon as I find the energy to get off this table.”
He chuckled, fully aware that by the time he finished with the massage, odds were good I’d be asleep.
“Turn over for me, baby.”
Baby. I loved it when he called me baby while I wore his collar.
I flipped over to my back and met his gaze, bathing in the love and devotion I found there. I didn’t say anything, but closed my eyes and allowed him to serve me.
Chapter Eleven
He woke me up the next morning with room service breakfast in bed. I slowly blinked awake, prodded along by a kiss and whispered promises of coffee. I went to roll over to get up and groaned. Every damn part of me hurt. I’d enjoyed the day before—well, most of it—but I’d forgotten how sore I’d be the morning
following such play.
“Take these,” Nathaniel said, holding two tablets to my mouth and passing me a glass of water. I gulped them down and then pulled myself up to a sitting position.
“Bit sore?” he asked.
“I think that’s an understatement, Master.” I took a sip of coffee and sighed. And thank fucking goodness I didn’t sleep on the floor.
“I won’t say I’m sorry.”
“I wouldn’t want you to.”
He put the breakfast tray in front of me. Everything looked delicious. I reached for a fork, but he shook his head and instead lifted a piece of pineapple to my lips.
“I’m free all day.”
“Really?” I said around the pineapple.
“Yes, we can spend the entire day together.” He fed me a bit of scrambled eggs. “There’s an art gallery I want to take you to. Then we can have lunch, maybe do some shopping.”
“I’d love to visit an art gallery, Master.”
His smile was mischievous. “I know.”
He must have eaten while I was sleeping because he didn’t take a bite of anything. Instead, he fed me. He took his time, giving me pieces of fruit, eggs, and ham. It’d been a long time since we’d enjoyed a leisurely morning in bed and having Nathaniel feed me was one of my favorite things to do, so I felt fully pampered and happy.
After I finished, I went off to shower and put on the clothes he had laid out for me. He was on the phone with Linda and the kids when I came out of the bathroom. For a few minutes, I watched. He laughed at something Elizabeth said and when she passed the phone to Henry, I heard his, “Mama. Dada,” from where I stood.
He told everyone good-bye and then passed the phone to me. I talked with Elizabeth first, who bemoaned the fact that Henry’s obsession with the trash can had led to him throwing away everything he could pick up. She held the phone up to him and his toddler babbles warmed my heart.
“Miss you. I love you. See you soon,” I said.
Nathaniel came up behind me and put his arms around my waist, and I sighed. “It’s hard being away from them,” he said.
“Yes.”
It was always hard to be away, even knowing Nathaniel and I had to take time for ourselves and our marriage. It was easier knowing they were with Linda. They always enjoyed spending time with her and, if Nathaniel and I thought she spoiled them, we also both knew that’s what grandparents were supposed to do.
He kissed the back of my head. “Let’s go see some art.”
He called for a car and since the requirements he’d put in place for the cocktail party were in place today, I smiled at the driver, but didn’t speak. Once we were inside the car, I sat beside Nathaniel and rested my hand on his knee.
We drove in silence to the gallery. We didn’t get much silence with kids in the house. I loved their giggles and chatter, but there was something to be said for quiet, too.
I’d always thought simply being in another person’s presence and enjoying the stillness with them held its own kind of intimacy. Nathaniel reached down to where my hand rested on his knee and entwined his fingers with mine. I squeezed his hand gently in acknowledgment and laid my head on his shoulder. I actually wished the gallery was farther away.
I loved art galleries, though, and I was excited about this one. I discovered my fondness of art not long after we got married. Exploring galleries must be similar to how a treasure hunter feels when he finds a chest: you never knew what treat you’d find inside.
For me, it was all about impression and the emotion a painting evoked. I never judged something on what the world said it was worth. In fact, our dining room held a painting I found in an antique store for fifteen dollars three years ago. I told Nathaniel it made me feel happy when I looked at it. Frankly, he thought it looked like any other landscape, but then again, he wasn’t much into art.
When we pulled up to the gallery, he held the door open for me and whispered, “I’m looking for something to go in the playroom and I’d like your opinion.”
I stopped in my tracks. “The playroom, Sir?”
Putting a hand at the small of my back, he guided me inside. “Yes. I think the walls are too bare. I’d like some inspiration.”
I couldn’t imagine what kind of artwork he’d put in the playroom. Certainly nothing we saw as we walked through. There were several lovely pieces, but nothing that stood out.
Nathaniel spoke to the curator and he led us to a small back room. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw and I stood in awe for a long minute.
The room was filled with erotic black-and-white photographs. Or else, they might have been erotic if they showed what they hinted at. Technically speaking, they were only suggestive.
I exhaled deeply and walked up to one, a shot of a submissive’s back, bound by intrinsically woven ropes. “Master, it’s beautiful.”
“Why don’t you look around and let me know if you see something you like.”
I was thrilled by the idea of exploring the pictures alone. Not that I didn’t want to share my thoughts with Nathaniel, but seeing the pictures evoked such a response from me. I supposed it was because they were all of submissives and I related in some way to every one of them.
I strolled from picture to picture, noting how carefully the photographer had worked with the light. He used the shadows and the darkness in a way that transformed the women he photographed. And the emotion he captured took my breath away.
“Abigail,” Nathaniel said. “Come here for a moment.”
He was talking with a man and they both watched me as I approached. The strange man was devilishly handsome with wavy brown hair and blue eyes that almost seemed to be laughing. As if he had a secret I wasn’t in on.
“Abigail, this is the gallery’s owner and the man behind the camera.”
“Pleased to meet you,” he said, shaking my hand in a smooth-as-silk voice I recognized immediately. He was the third guy from the previous day. I faltered, just for a second. Should I say something about yesterday? Or just act as normal as possible? Did I even have permission to speak?
I looked to Nathaniel and he nodded. “Master DeVaan,” he said, giving me the gentleman’s name.
“Nice to meet you, Sir,” I replied, deciding to go for normal. “Your work is amazing.”
“Thank you. Any photograph in particular you like?”
“Your rope work is remarkable, but I think my favorites are the profiles, especially where the submissive is kneeling.” I nodded toward a picture near us. It was a close-up of a kneeling sub and only a portion of her face was visible.
“Interesting,” he said. “That’s one of my favorites, too.”
I walked to it. “It’s her expression that captured my attention. You can’t see a lot of it, but from what I can tell, this was taken after the scene was over. She has that sated, blissful look about her.”
“Very astute,” DeVaan said. “That’s exactly when it was taken.”
“There’s something else, though.” I tilted my head. “She’s a bit sad, I think, or maybe unsettled is the better word. Or yearning. She doesn’t want the scene to be over. She wants to serve you more, but she’s obeying you and not insisting upon it. It’s that conflict in her expression that makes it hard to look away.”
“Yes,” he said. “Yes. That’s it exactly. Incredible. Most people never see that much.”
“It’s only because it’s a position I’ve been in before. I recognize a kindred spirit.”
“Master West is a fortunate man to have captured the heart of such an insightful woman.” He tipped his head toward me. “And submissive.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“He is fortunate indeed.” Nathaniel came up behind me and slipped his arms around me. “So tell me, my lovely, is this the one for the playroom?”
“You want my honest opinion, Master?”
“The pictures are all beautiful, but I don’t think they’re right for us.”
“No?” He seemed surprised. I wasn’t sure why. Did he really think I wanted a picture of another woman in his playroom?
“If you wouldn’t be opposed, Master, it would be my pleasure to pose for a photo for the playroom.”
He stood in shock for several long seconds before saying, “Damn.”
I turned in his arms. “Master?”
“I hadn’t even thought of that. It’s a brilliant idea.” He looked over to DeVaan. “We’d like for you to photograph Abigail. Would it be possible to set up a time for you to come to New York?”
“Absolutely. It would be an honor.”
“Excellent,” Nathaniel said. “I’ll call you once we get back home and we’ll set something up.”
As the two men continued talking, I walked back to look at the pictures. Seeing how he captured the light made DeVaan’s comment about the sun on my body the day before make sense.
Nathaniel came up to me and put his hand on the small of my back. “Let’s go get lunch.”
DeVaan had left the room, so I didn’t get the chance to say good-bye. I looked over my shoulder to glance one last time at the pictures displayed. My belly tightened with excitement over having a similar picture, but of me, in our playroom.
Our car was waiting for us outside and once we climbed in, Nathaniel turned to me.
“I’m taking the collar off for lunch.”
I looked at him with my unspoken question in my eyes, but didn’t say anything. I slid closer to him and bowed my head while he unclasped the collar. My neck felt unusually light after having it on for so long.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
Typically, once he took the collar off, I would notice a slight shift in our relationship as we went from Dominant and submissive back into our everyday lives. But when I looked at him then, he still had the aura of my Master.
“Good,” I said. “The week has been challenging, but I’m enjoying it so far.”
“Glad to hear it.” He took my hand and brought it to rest on his knee. He held it there stroking my knuckles with his thumb. “We’ll talk more at lunch. Unless there’s something you’d like to discuss now?”
