by Tara Sue Me
“Right,” he said. “What does that tell you?”
“That you became more demanding after I became successful? On the surface it makes you sound like an ass, but I know that wasn’t your intent.”
“I thank you for being truthful,” he said with a smile. “That tells me you’re serious about this and gave it a lot of thought. If you didn’t say it made me sound like an ass, I’d be worried.”
“But since you didn’t do it because you’re an ass, you must have had another reason.”
“I did. Can you remember how you felt those first few weeks after the job offer when you weren’t wearing my collar? How you functioned and your mental well-being?”
I remembered precisely how I felt. “I was frazzled and stressed and didn’t function well at all.”
“Right,” he said with what looked like a half smile. “And when you wore my collar?”
I saw his thinking almost immediately. “With the exception of the issues I had with Charlene, I felt peaceful and at ease and everything felt more manageable.”
“There you go.”
I looked at him in shock. “You became more demanding because I took a job?”
“In part. As you became more successful and your responsibilities increased, your need to be dominated increased.”
I’d have to think about that a little. “Because I’m a submissive?”
“It’s the way you’re made. You need the dominance, especially in the bedroom. Your increase in position in the professional world only made that need grow.”
“Which is why you pushed me so hard while we were in Delaware.”
“Yes, you needed your limits tested. Pushed.”
I tucked my legs underneath me and curled up on the couch. “That’s quite a statement. I’ll have to think about it a bit more.”
“Of course,” he said. “You should always look into what I think and form your own opinions.”
Silence followed for a few seconds. Whether or not I believed his assessment of my need for dominance, I still wanted to discuss my journal.
“I jotted down my thoughts on how to increase our playtime.”
“Is that something you still want to pursue? Even before you make up your mind on my beliefs about your need for dominance?”
I picked up my journal and opened it to the spot I’d been working on. “Yes, I still want to increase our time. I’d decided I wanted it before you gave me your reasons. Nothing you said changed my mind.”
“You make me proud, Abby.”
Hearing those words, the despair over the angst of the last few weeks began to ease. We weren’t back to where we were, but perhaps we were on our way to a better place.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Come here.” He pulled me close and draped his arm around my shoulder. “Tell me what you have in mind.”
“I still don’t want to wear your collar twenty-four/seven.”
“Agreed.”
“But I would like to go back to wearing it every weekend. It’ll be somewhat of a challenge with the kids, but we can work it out.”
“I’m not opposed to that, but we’ll have to do something about Henry and Elizabeth. I don’t want you to call me ‘Master’ where they can hear.”
“I agree. I thought about that a lot. We need to manage their sleeping time more carefully. We can get a baby monitor for our room, and then lock the door. If they wake up, we’ll hear them and can stop our play so we can go to them if need be.”
Nathaniel nodded. “I think that’s a great idea.”
“And I’ve also been thinking. Henry is getting so active already, we might want to start him in preschool earlier than we did Elizabeth. I found a half-day school for two-year-olds nearby. That might be perfect for him. And if you can arrange to have some mornings at home, it would give us a lot more time soon.”
“Yes, I think I could arrange that. Especially now that I have Charlene taking over the nonprofit.”
I met his gaze, and had to smile.
He smiled too.
Encouraged, I went on. “I also think it’d be a good idea if we had some sort of signal we could give each other if we wanted to play during the week.”
He grinned at that one. “Been talking to Christine?”
Paul’s wife had been invaluable. “Yes, I thought it’d be a good idea to get the input of someone who’s been in the same situation I’m in.”
“I would expect nothing less and it’s a great idea. What do Paul and Christine use as a signal?”
“If he wants to play, he’ll put her collar on her nightstand. If she accepts, and he expects her to unless she has a good reason not to, she’ll bring the collar to him so he can put it on her.”
“And if she decides she wants to play?”
“She’ll approach him, kneel and ask to wear his collar. She said most of the time he’d agree, but sometimes she thinks he says no just because he can.”
He laughed. “I’m sure he does; that sounds like Paul.”
“Do you think those things will work for us?”
“The collar and kneeling?” At my nod, he consented. “Yes, I think we can go ahead and incorporate those into our weekday lives.”
We spoke a bit more about the finer details, agreed that we’d discuss how we each thought things were going on a regular basis, and decided that we should each redo our checklists about our preferences and hard limits.
When we were talked out, I took his hand and stroked his palm. “I’m looking forward to our new schedule.”
“Me, too,” he said. “But I want you to know that if for any reason you want to scale back, it’ll be okay with me.”
“I appreciate you saying that, but based on what you believe, I have a feeling I’m going to want more, not less.”
He cupped my chin. “Everything I do—everything—I do with you in mind. I may mess up on the execution, but please don’t doubt my intent.”
“Even when it feels like you’re being an ass,” I teased.
“Especially when it feels like I’m being an ass.”
“Let me write that down.” I started to make a note in my journal and yelped when he took the pen out of my hand.
“Write it down later.” He placed my journal and pen on the table. “Meet me in the playroom, naked, in ten minutes. I feel like being an ass. Or more to the point, I feel like spanking yours.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Are you ready, Abigail?”
His question was sincere, but in all honesty, he didn’t need to ask it. I’d been looking forward to this day ever since we visited the gallery in Delaware. DeVaan stood in the corner of the playroom with his camera and lights. Nathaniel blindfolded me as soon as we entered the playroom, probably as a way to ensure my entire attention was on him.
“Yes, Master,” I replied in answer to his question.
“As far as you’re concerned, who is the only person in the room other than yourself?”
“You, Master.”
I had no idea what he had planned for our play/photography session. Behind the blindfold my eyes were closed and I closed off my mind to everything but the sound of Nathaniel’s voice.
“Very good, Abigail. For this moment, you and I are the only people on Earth. This time is ours and I intend to ensure you enjoy it to its fullest.”
“You always do, Master.”
It’d been four weeks since we agreed to the new terms of our relationship. I didn’t believe him at first, that submitting to him more frequently in the bedroom would improve my overall ability outside of it. It didn’t make sense to me. Hell, I’d thought they weren’t even related.
But he’d been right. Setting up a schedule of playtime, wearing his collar all weekend, and kneeling at his feet every morning and night somehow made things seem less hectic
. I had more patience when I was with the kids, and when problems came up at work, I had the mental focus to work through them.
“Come up to your knees,” Nathaniel said. “And put your hands behind your back.”
He would bind me next. I sucked in a breath. He hadn’t bound me since Delaware, though why that was, I wasn’t sure. Nathaniel had decided on a rope bondage session because I’d told him that had been my favorite picture in the gallery.
He started at my shoulders and took his time, weaving the rope under and around my arms, tying them together in a way I imagined had to look fabulous.
“You look fucking gorgeous,” he said. “Hands tied behind your back, your chest pushed forward. You’re passively begging me to do something to those sweet breasts.”
He walked toward the cabinets, and I imagined he was looking for nipple clamps. Instead, I jumped when the first strands of a flogger bruised against my exposed skin.
“I’m going to flog your breasts,” he said. “Make them red, because it makes me so hard to see my marks on you.”
He started with slow, easy strokes. It wasn’t one of his heavy floggers, so at first, the strokes felt like a sensual caress.
“What are your safe words, Abigail?”
“Green, yellow, and red.”
“What color are you now?”
“Green, Master.”
The sound of shuffling came from by my side. “Good, but I’m going to use a heavier flogger now. Let me know if it’s too much.”
I braced myself for the first stroke of the new instrument and sucked in a breath when the tails landed sharply against my skin.
“No harder than that,” he said.
I nodded, giving myself over to him, and placing my entire being in his capable hands. He didn’t continue for a long period of time, only a few minutes. My breasts were sensitive and couldn’t take too much stimulus. But he drove me right to my limit, taking me to where I knew I could go and then taking me a little further. Showing me as he did so that I was capable of so much more than I thought I was.
“Beautiful, Abigail,” he said, and though I couldn’t hear anything, I was fairly certain DeVaan was taking pictures of my reddened skin.
Nathaniel gently helped me stand and together we walked to the padded table. It would have been easy for him to remove my blindfold. But he didn’t. He was teaching me another lesson in trust. That he would lead and I could follow even when I couldn’t see with my eyes that it was safe to take the next step.
“Who’s holding on to you, my lovely?” he whispered.
“My Master,” I said.
“Will he ever lead you somewhere dangerous or unsafe?”
“No, Master.”
“Why is that?”
“Because he loves me,” I whispered back.
“He does,” he said, pushing me over so my cheek rested on the high table. “Spread your legs for balance.”
I thought for a moment I heard the soft clicking of a camera, but I wasn’t sure. I pushed the sound from my mind and turned my attention back toward Nathaniel.
Since our discussion and agreement weeks ago, our relationship was even stronger. Making time for us to explore our roles, giving those roles importance, had somehow strengthened every part of our lives together. We were more connected, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. Somehow in making our schedule more structured, we’d found what had been missing all along.
Balance. Just as I was giving my body balance by widening my stance, by submitting to him and accepting his dominance over me, I was able to balance out all sides of myself. My submission, my family, my job—everything was grounded and held in place by the collar around my neck and the rings on my finger.
“Interesting thing happened yesterday,” Nathaniel said. “I realized it had been months since I read your journal. I’ve just been reading on your blog.”
Oh, shit. There was no telling what he had read in the journal. I suddenly remembered ninety percent of what I’d written in the journal over the last few months.
“There was quite the commentary on your thoughts about kneeling from when we were in Delaware.”
I gulped and forced the words out. “Yes, Master, I remember.”
“I briefly wished I’d never told you that nothing you wrote would be held against you.” He laughed softly.
I took that as a good sign.
“The end of that commentary was very different from the beginning.”
“Yes.”
From behind me came the crinkling of paper and I frowned.
“But even more interesting was this: Things I Know About Nathaniel,” he said with a smile evident in his voice.
He’d found the list I’d written the day I first met Charlene. “You weren’t supposed to see that, Master. I meant to take it out.”
“Ah, but you didn’t and I read all three pages.”
I groaned.
“I don’t know why you wouldn’t want me to read it,” he said. “I enjoyed the one about the artwork. I happen to like that painting, too, by the way.”
“It’s just embarrassing,” I mumbled.
“I thought it was very sweet and it inspired me to write my own list.” He kissed the back of my neck. “Things I Know About Abigail . . .”
As he recited his list, he ran his hands over the slope of my ass and down my legs. Then slowly, he began to tie my legs to either side of the table with sure fingers. I shivered while he worked. The normal intensity of a bondage scene was heightened by his softly spoken words of adoration.
He stepped back once I was secured. “What do you think of my list, Abigail?”
His words and touch had lulled me into an almost hypnotic state of blissed-out arousal. My body craved his hands on me again and my mind wanted to hear more.
“I’m not sorry at all now that I left that list in my journal,” I said with a sigh. “But I’ll admit, your list was better than mine, Master.”
“You wrote yours off the top of your head. I had a lot more time to think about mine.”
He stepped back and I wondered idly if DeVaan was taking pictures of me bound to the table. From the back corner of the room came a gentle humming sound. He was doing something. But even though it was relatively quiet in the playroom, I’d yet to hear the camera shutter.
Another sound filled the quiet spaces of the room. This time it was the unzipping of pants and the rustle as they came off. I jumped when a cool trickle of lube fell along my backside.
Nathaniel eased a prepared finger into me and at the same time whispered, “He’s also taping this. Remember your fantasy from when Simon and Lynne came over?”
“Yes, Master.” I did and I’m not sure why I was surprised he remembered as well.
“I’m going to fuck your ass and he’s going to tape it. But first, you’re going to ask for it like a good girl.”
My body tensed at his words. It’d been so long since we had anal sex. Sure, I used a plug occasionally, but there was a big difference between that and his cock.
“None of that now,” he said and his free hand worked itself between my legs and played with my clit. “It’s been a while, but you know how good I’ll make it. And I can’t wait to feel your tight ass take my cock.”
Slowly, his touch worked my body back into a state of arousal where I didn’t care what he did. I just wanted him inside me. However he chose that to be.
He pressed the head of his cock against my anus and slipped in just the tip. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He pushed in a bit more. “Been too long.”
His hand was still between my legs, ensuring I stayed on the edge, with his knowledgeable fingers stroking me just so. His hips worked slowly, inching in and pulling out. Never going completely in, but teasing me by making me think the next thrust forward would be the one he entered me fully.
But it never was and with each passing stroke and slide, the need to have him inside grew and intensified. But I couldn’t figure out what he was waiting for. My entire body pulsed with the desire to be filled. His grunt of self-restraint proved he felt the same. So why was he waiting?
His words echoed in my head, “You’re going to ask for it like a good girl.”
“Take me, Master,” I begged.
With a satisfied sigh and “Yes” he pulled out and thrust in me completely. He was right—it had been too long and I gasped at how full he made me.
“Fucking love this tight ass,” he said, smacking it sharply. “Makes my cock feel so good.” He pushed two fingers inside me, pressing that spot that made me squeal. “I think someday soon we’ll have a week where I only take your ass.”
His deep strokes and wicked fingers were making my internal throb worse and I skirted the edge of my release, knowing I wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.
“Please let me come, Master.”
He thrust into me with a grunt. “Whenever you want.”
I didn’t even try to hold out, but simply let my body relax as my orgasm rippled through. He didn’t stop.
“My turn,” he said in a half growl and started fucking me harder. The burn of his possession drove me toward another climax. As he pushed in and held himself deep inside, his release triggered my second.
Normally, he’d stay pressed against me while we recovered, so I was surprised when he almost immediately pulled back. I nearly balked at the emptiness. Nathaniel moved to stand near my head and gently removed the blindfold.
I was faintly aware of DeVaan stepping closer, but I focused my attention on Nathaniel. He looked at me with a combination of love, lust, and something else I couldn’t place. Then the corner of his mouth quirked up. “I forgot one thing on my list.”
High on the aftereffects of my orgasms, it took me a few seconds to remember what he meant. “Oh.”
“You never stop taking my breath away,” he whispered and leaned down to kiss me.
It was only then, with his lips on mine, that I finally heard the faint sound of the camera. I allowed myself a few seconds to wonder how I must look: tied on a table, kissing my Master. But I somehow knew that when I looked at the pictures taken that day, I would see more than the way I was physically tied. I would see that I was bound not only by rope, but with bonds of love and trust and a promise that would last forever.
