by Eden Elgabri
He slid it out and rested it between the cheeks of my ass. “Clench."
I did and it held the vibe in place.
"Don't let it drop or you'll get punished. I'll be right back. I left something in the other room."
I wanted to protest, both his leaving and the task I was given. What if I couldn't hold it in place? What if it fell to the floor? What would the punishment be? I didn't really matter. The biggest punishment would be displeasing him. The vibe slid a bit and I clenched harder. What the hell was taking him so long? I couldn't have been more than a few minutes, but sweat had begun to break on my brow. I couldn't hold it much longer and I was afraid I'd break down in tears if I dropped the damn vibe. If it dropped it wouldn't be like the slip with the Ben Wa Balls, he'd given me a direct order this time.
The sound of his footsteps coming closer was the sweetest sound I had ever heard. I clenched harder and his hand reached for the vibe and he reinserted it into my anus. I relaxed and the vibe soothed. If the butt vibe had the light sound of an insect close by, the magic bullet sounded like a power tool. The tip of it went straight to my clit. He turned the volume down low so it was a dull throb.
It would take longer this way, but that's obviously what he wanted, to keep me on the brink for as long as possible. My body twitched and my legs shook. My arms tugged at the rope but could not move. Waves of orgasm flooded over me and the sounds I made echoed in my ears.
"Round one,” he said as he took both vibes away from my body.
I couldn't speak. As my breathing regulated I thought of that one statement. I would enjoy the orgasms to come, but they'd come at a price. This was meant to break me. He'd make me come until I couldn't handle any more, until he owned me completely.
He gave me a few moments to compose myself before the soft touch of his fingers floated over my body. Feather light, they barely touched me, just enough to send my body into acute awareness. The featherlike sensations settled on my nipples and then between my legs until they buckled with round two.
By the time his tongue began its exploration in the third round my arms ached and I needed a release of a different kind. As I climaxed this time I begged him to untie my binds, to rest the ache in my arms, and to hopefully switch the pleasure to him.
The second my wrists were free I rubbed my arms to get the circulation moving in them. The blindfold slid down as he untied it and the bright light hurt my eyes.
"On your knees."
I dropped down in front of him and greedily sucked his cock into my mouth. I licked and sucked like a starving woman at a buffet. There had been a time in my life where oral sex had been more of a chore than a pleasure. Not the case with Michael. I worshipped his cock. I loved the texture and taste of it. I wanted to stroke it, kiss it, ride it, and pleasure it any way possible. Bringing Michael to orgasm also empowered me. But at the moment, he denied me the power I sought.
When he was close to orgasm he pushed away from me. “How'd you get the bruise on your breast?"
Shit. I'd covered the bruise with makeup so he wouldn't notice. The bath must have washed it away. Not able to face him, I looked down. Talk about a sign of guilt.
"So much for thinking you were pining away."
"I was pining. I was heartsick without you and lonely. So lonely.” I touched his arm and he pulled away.
"Right, that's why it took you less than three weeks to sleep with someone else."
I shook my head. How would I ever get him to believe the truth? “That's not what happened. I never slept with anyone else. I had one date and he grabbed me, over my clothes no less. I can't help it if I bruise easily. And how can you act so high and mighty when you were fucking the teeny bopper?"
"I didn't fuck her. If you'd called you would have figured that out, but your pride got in the way."
"My pride? You told me to leave. I can't compete with a girl half my age.” Tears welled in my eyes and I turned from him so he wouldn't witness them.
"There was no competition.” I don't know if it was the words themselves or his raised voice that made me turn back to face him. When he had my complete attention he lowered his volume and continued. “I haven't even seen her. She's sick. She might be dying, but I can't trust a word she says."
"You want me to believe that you haven't slept with her? That you haven't even seen her?” Did he take me for a fool? Couldn't he remember my faithless ex had divorced me for a younger woman?
"I wouldn't touch Jaime with a ten foot pole."
So she had a name now. Not just ‘Me.’ Jaime. A young name. That tidbit somehow made being Victoria so much worse. I shook my head. “I could tell by the way you said ‘it's her’ that night that you love her."
"Yes. In some bizarre way I still do love her, but I gave up on her long ago. I was blind."
The only part that stuck with me was that he still loved her. And I knew what that meant. If he still loved her, he couldn't love me. My heart broke again. This time into a million pieces. Why did I have to love him? We'd be so perfect for each other if love didn't get in the way.
"Was she untrainable?"
"I don't understand.” He looked at me like I had two heads.
A sickening feeling washed over me and I was afraid for the conversation to go on. “She wasn't a trainable sub?” I knew the answer, but had to ask the question anyway. “How would you describe your relationship with her?” I took a deep breath to gear up for the blow to come.
He understood and looked down. “Vanilla. With sprinkles."
I sat down on the bed and crossed my arms over my stomach. The entire time I thought things could work out because he'd spent over two years with a sub. But she wasn't a sub. She was a girlfriend. So when he'd talked about concerts and plays, he talked about things he had done with her. Things I so desperately wanted him to do with me.
Surely, I was the one dying. The air just didn't seem to make it into my lungs. Pain exploded in my chest and I stared blankly into space. He loved her. He pampered her and cared about her feelings. I was nothing but an easy way to get off.
"You know you have to be punished."
Was he kidding? My heart had just been ripped out. Wasn't that punishment enough? I nodded just the same.
"Lie on your stomach."
I turned. It didn't matter what he did to me. I couldn't hurt any more than I already did.
"I can't stand that you let someone else touch you."
The strap bit at my bottom and I gasped. He knew, he had to know that I was telling the truth. It came down again and I started sobbing, but not from the sting of the belt. He was punishing me for her lies, not mine. My body jumped with each strike, my wails becoming louder.
"We'll never speak of this again,” he said as he rubbed his hand over my smarting ass. “Now present yourself."
I couldn't believe I allowed him to use the strap. It didn't matter that it was only six or seven strikes. As I rose to my knees and stuck my reddened ass in the air, I couldn't believe I was now going to let him fuck me. He entered me before my mind could wrap itself around the concept. I paid for my sins, for hers, and for Michael's.
I could barely sit when we went downstairs to the dining room later on that evening to eat the turkey he had brought from the club. It had all the fixings, but my nonexistent appetite wouldn't allow much past my lips. He tried to make the rest of the night easy and light-hearted, but hard as I tried, I couldn't match him.
I'd won, but I'd lost. I had the man I loved back, but the only way I could enjoy being with him was if I could stop loving him.
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Chapter Seven
I'd decided to just let things slide. The relationship, or lack of it, wouldn't change no matter how much I scrutinized it. Desire snowballed rather than decreased. So I did what I had planned on doing from the beginning, just have fun. Once I let go of my boyfriend fantasy, I enjoyed Michael again.
Still, I occasionally wondered what he did with his time. Like my ex, he was
an attorney. Yeah, I know, I should have learned the first time. But where my ex's success meant upper middle class, Michael's success was top shelf. I knew he had important clients. The size of his house attested to that. But could he spend all his time working?
I banished the thoughts before they took a firm hold and gave thanks for what I had. We made it through the contract, but in spite of my happiness, I still harbored the fear he wouldn't want to renew. On our last night of the contract, he didn't mention any plans for the following Friday.
The few days at the beginning of the week were torturous. What would the next contract look like? Would there even be one?
He called on Wednesday and asked if we could meet Saturday instead of the usual Friday. I dressed with even more care than usual. A long grey skirt and pink top hid a black lace push up bra with matching thong, a black leather garter belt, and black spike heeled boots which came up to the knee. I couldn't wait to get my clothes off and see his expression. The boots would send him over the edge, nothing like a high pair of dress boots and sexy underwear to harden his cock.
I took off my clothes in the alcove, and was in the process of folding them when Michael opened the inner door.
"Very nice, I love how you always dress to please me. But that'll have to be for later. Get dressed. You haven't eaten have you?"
I shrugged. “I guess I could eat. Where are we going?"
"Broadway Bistro."
He assisted me with my clothes but remained on the quiet side on the drive there. Was it because he only planned on seeing me occasionally when the mood struck? Would there be any kind of contract at all? Maybe this was the way he planned on ending it, with a nice dinner like a consolation prize.
A cacophony of sound assailed my ears as soon as we entered the restaurant. Now I could add headache to sour stomach. If he didn't ease my mind before the meal, there was a better than good chance I wouldn't be able to get it down no matter how haute the cuisine. The tinkle of china and crystal sounded more like the chime signaling the next round. Ambiance and delectable scents couldn't penetrate my anxiety. I decided to ask him point blank the second we were seated at the table. I mean, really, it's not like things could get any tenser.
The hostess could have been a mime for all I heard her say. When she smiled and turned, Michael placed his hand on the small of my back which gave me the signal to move. I'd been following her half way through the restaurant with Michael a step or two behind me when I heard “Mom?"
The world turned on its axis. Of all the scenarios in the world, the one where I'd stroll by my girls, my ex, and his bimbo had never entered my mind.
I stopped dead in my tracks and Michael didn't have time to brace himself. He bumped into me and we both almost toppled over. I stood frozen staring at the four of them at the table. Nothing had changed. Except I'd been replaced.
I'd almost asked to go elsewhere when Michael mentioned the restaurant because it had been the one place in the city we'd consistently gone as a family. It seemed almost a sacrilege to go with someone else. Yet here they all sat. A chill washed over me, but somehow I battened down the hatches on the storm of emotions raging through me.
No way would I let any of them know how much it hurt. Although Alana looked at me as if she'd killed my dog and didn't know what to do about it. Eliza was five minutes younger and a few years less mature. She'd yelled out when she spotted me and her eyes spit fire in Michael's direction.
I had watched their eyes as they turned from me to Michael. The myriad of stunned expressions ranged from guilt—Alana, hurt—Eliza, anger—the ex, and disbelief—the bimbo.
"Your twins?” Michael asked as he took my arm.
I nodded.
He leaned into me. “Let me guess. They've never seen you with any man but their dad?"
"How could you tell?"
"The hostile glare was a pretty good clue,” he whispered. “Are you going to introduce me?"
"Not sure that's wise,” I whispered back.
The entire table leaned forward as if the slight slant would enable them to be privy to our conversation. It didn't. The girlfriend looked like she was about to blow a gasket. Her eyes bulged and her face scrunched up as if she smelled something foul. I'm not sure if that had to do with the fact that she was stuck with my kids while I was on a date, or the fact that hands down, I was with the better looking man. If she'd know how much larger his bank account was, she probably would have keeled over in her soup.
The father of my children couldn't mask his fury. His purple face also didn't sit well with the bimbo.
"Vicks, what the hell are you doing here?” he asked. He might as well have been the evil stepmother catching Cinderella at the ball and from the looks of things he planned on stifling my good time, as if I could have one now.
'Vicks.’ Of all the nicknames I'd had in my life that was the one I hated the most, and often I wondered if that's why he insisted on calling me it. “We're about to have dinner. What else would I be doing here?"
Michael choked back a laugh and nodded at him. “We eat here about once a week,” he lied. “It's one of our favorite places."
Oh goody. A pissing contest. Just what I needed.
"Girls, see you next week.” I turned back to my knight in less than shining armor, “Michael, I think the hostess is waiting to seat us."
"Mr. Manning?” The hostess looked at Michael imploringly. The place was busy and she couldn't wait for us all day while we chit-chatted.
He grinned wickedly and we moved on while my ex-husband still sputtered and his girlfriend fumed. No way was anyone at that table enjoying their meal. Michael, on the other hand, went out of his way to flame the fire.
First, we were seated on the upper level, so not only did we have a bird's eye view of my family, but they had just as good a view of us. Second, the table we had was better and harder to get than the one my ex had. That had to go up his ass a mile. Third, whenever he could, Michael would place his hand on mine or lean in to me. I didn't care how he pissed off the asshole relations, but the girls didn't need the show.
Somewhere during the appetizer I remembered the hostess had called him Mr. Manning. My eyes widened. Michael Manning. Couldn't be. Holy shit. “I thought your name was Stevens,” I said out of the blue.
"Still? Come on. You know it's Michael not Giles, why would you think the last name I used in the email addy was real?"
"I don't know. I just assumed it was and you never said differently.” I was glad I was far enough away that the girls wouldn't notice my smile was phony.
"You never mentioned your real last name,” he countered.
I stared at him. “It comes up on your phone when I call you. Yours comes up as ‘private number.’”
"Does it make a difference who I am? Have I changed in any way?” There was emotion in his eyes that I couldn't quite discern.
No, it didn't matter. My smile relaxed into a real one. “Are you kidding? If I had known I would have asked for much more help with my homework.” That, at least, made him laugh.
In the middle of our meal he took out the Austrian crystal necklace and placed it around my neck. Anyone looking would have thought they were diamonds. And for the first time, I actually wondered if they were. I couldn't help it. At that point I oohed and ahhed just so the bimbo would hopefully stroke out. If nothing else, I know two people who left with indigestion.
My phone buzzed and I checked the text. “We'll call for the details tomorrow. Nice bling. Way to go mom.” Well, at least one of them was happy for me. More than likely she was just pissed at her father. I nodded in their direction as they left.
I turned back to Michael. “Nice performance. What was it all about?"
He took another bite of his gnocchi which gave him a moment to think. Finally, he just shrugged. “Damned if I know. I just didn't like the way he looked at you. And the twit he's with? She's a visible bubblehead."
"She may be stupid, but she's crafty just the same. And has rathe
r large breasts. We can't forget them."
"Performance enhanced, no doubt.” I laughed and he held up a forkful of gnocchi. “Are you sure you don't want a bite?"
I wrinkled my nose. “Positive. But I guess that means you'd like to try the Bolognese.” I pushed my plate closer to him and he stabbed the pasta.
"Um, good,” he said before he slid the plate back. “I am sorry if this causes problems with your kids though. Were they very angry? I'm assuming the text was from one of them?"
"It'll be okay. One thinks it's cool. The other will come around. Unfortunately, they all think the necklace is mine and will probably want a good look at it next weekend when they come to visit.” That was going to be a problem. I'd have to think up some lie where the clasp broke and it slipped off without me noticing.
Michael stared into space for a moment and cleared his throat. “I'd like you to keep the necklace."
Oh shit, was this going to be his send off? My hands clenched and I barely breathed.
"I don't think we need a contract any more. We've explored our fantasies and can move on from here.” I must have paled because Michael reached for my hand. “I say we continue with the Saturday nights, but don't plan out the sex. Just let it happen.” He looked to me expectantly, like he was afraid I'd be the one who wouldn't want to renegotiate.
I released the breath I'd been holding. He still wanted to see me. I couldn't think clearly. My body started to decompress and relax again. “And if there's something different I'd like to try?” We'd hit on my biggest fantasies, from simple things like a hot tub all the way to various types of bondage. I couldn't even think of anything, but wanted to keep him on his toes.
He grinned at me. “Just tell me or do it and I'll do the same. There's always the safe word. Remember that."
My analytical mind started to categorize. Pros and cons. Cons consisted of not knowing in advance what was going to happen. Now that could be scary, but exciting too. And it's not like I thought Michael would ever hurt me, so there wasn't much to worry about there.
The biggest con was not having a contract. That meant at any time he could decide simply not to call or ever see me again. But if I really thought about it, he could do that anyway. It wasn't like either one of us would take the other to court for breaking the contract.
