“Yes, sir.” I sat, trying to contain my joy.
“We could wait and I can put the collar on you officially at the roast, or we could have a little thing just you and me this week. It’s up to you. Next month will be your birthday celebration and we can have an extra special party to celebrate your collar then, too. It’s completely up to you, whatever you want to do.” He fidgeted in his seat and sipped his water. “You can be collared privately or in front of everyone, now or even later, if you need more time to think about it. I don’t want to rush you. Think carefully, Nez.”
“Sir, I don’t have to think. Everything I said to you is true. I can’t imagine another way. I feel bad, though, that we haven’t really celebrated your birthday.”
“We are right now. This is the best birthday present I could ever receive. This is why I was compelled to ask you now. On the one hand, I keep telling myself not to rush things, but I’m really feeling the power with you. I honestly know we can make it together. I need a partner that I can count on and my gut tells me it’s you.”
“I don’t wanna wait, my lord. I wanna do it now, right this instant,” I said, laughing.
“Hold your horses, kid. I need a little time,” he smiled.
“Okay, sir, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rush you.”
“Aw, baby girl, you’re fucking adorable.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“No, Nezzie, honestly, thank you,” he said and turned serious again.
“What is it, my lord?”
“I miss my dad. I wish he were here to meet you. He’d love you and I know he’d be happy for us.”
“He is, my lord, wherever he is, he knows.”
“I’d like to think so.” He took my hands in his. “I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make your dreams come true, Nez, and I mean that.”
“Mr. Delacroix, you are my dream come true. I love you more than you know.”
He opened another bottle of champagne in celebration and we went over Marie’s contract. Now that I would be wearing the collar, the contract had new meaning for me, and new responsibility for Mr. Delacroix’s personal affairs. Even after our exchange that day, feelings of inadequacy kept creeping in, but he held firm in his belief in me and for that, I was eternally grateful. No one had ever believed in me before.
We were tipsy by the time we made our way back to the bedroom. Mr. Delacroix was trying to teach me French. We giggled every time I butchered a phrase.
“Laissez-moi vous voir nu,” he laughed.
“What does it mean?”
He laughed again. “It means ‘let me see you naked.’” He untied the robe and pushed it off my shoulders. “Get your ass back in that bed, slut.” He smiled and I jumped into the bed, but this time, he did not bind me. “Nezzie, get on your knees at the foot of the bed and face the headboard.”
I was puzzled, but I obliged happily. He crawled onto the bed, lay on his back, and opened his legs. He even arched his back and showed his throat as if he were in complete submission. I was struck by the beauty of it.
“You’re the boss this time, Nez. I am for you right now,” he said and closed his eyes.
“My lord, I don’t know what to do.”
“Take your time, use your imagination, and feel free to use the toys in the armoire.” He looked at me with gunmetal eyes. “You’re the fucking boss, Nez. Let your imagination rule.”
My mind was a blank. Letting instinct create my strategy, I used the long silken tether to tie his hands to the headboard.
“Copycat,” he said.
“Shhh, my lord.”
“I’m not your lord, Nez. Not right now. I’m your nothing. You’re my goddess and I’m here for you to do with as you please,” he said. “My body’s yours. Bend me, please.”
“Oh, Mr. Delacroix,” I whispered in his ear as I fumbled with the tethers and finally tied his wrists.
“You have fantasies of domination. I know you do, so go ahead. Dominate my ass.”
“Like practice, my lord, for when I am in charge of Marie?” I asked.
“Sure, this is your party, ma’am.”
I went to the armoire to get another long tether. I was intrigued to see him behave submissively. I had gotten a taste of it at the apartment when Mr. Scott was there. It turned me on to think I could get the same reaction.
I stood at the foot of the bed. “Okay, boy,” I said as harsh as possible and had to fight the urge to laugh. “Spread your legs for me.” To my astonishment, his cock reacted to my voice with noticeable growth. I had trouble concentrating on tying the rope. Every molecule inside me wanted to be one with him, to thank him, to fuck him.
“Open your eyes and look at me.” His electric eyes opened wide and searched for mine. “Good boy, Greg, that’s a good boy.” He was stone-still except for his eyes; they followed my every move. I crawled up his body, my breasts and clit brushing against him as light as a feather. I was delighted when he let out a small audible groan.
When my head hit the headboard, I sat back on his chest. My insides were turning with pleasure and I knew I was wet all over him, but it was my party and I could come on his chest if I wanted to. I decided to come all over his face, the thought of which almost brought me to climax.
“I’m going to sit on your face now, boy, and I want to feel your tongue inside me.” His eyes widened. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He lifted his chin in preparation. I could tell he had been here before, but I was delighted to see that he did not seem to be expecting it from me.
I moved my knees above his shoulders and held on to the headboard. I lowered myself down on his face carefully so I would not suffocate him. My body quaked as he so diligently and obediently found my opening with his experienced tongue. “Oh,” I moaned, “good boy.”
I lifted myself up to present him with my clit. “There you go, boy, lick my clit fast.” I spread my legs so he could reach easier. His tongue moved quickly across my most sensitive spot. The orgasm came quickly, violently, and with such waves of pleasure that I feared I could not go on. I moved back to the original position.
“Lick it like an ice cream cone, nice and slow. Drink my come, boy.” His tongue, so adept, moved from back to front and stopped periodically to suck the opening of my vagina. My body shook with orgasmic intensity.
“Did that taste good?” I asked as I pulled off him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said as he worked to catch his breath.
I kissed his forehead and backed down his torso kissing his chest, belly, and his hips that moved ever so slightly up and down. His hard-on had doubled in size. I got up, found the bottle of lubricant on the nightstand, and put some on the outside of my anus. I went to the armoire and found beads that were slightly bigger than the ones he had used on me before.
“You okay, boy?” I untied his wrists from the headboard and handed him the beads.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said meekly.
I straddled him facing his feet this time. “You watch me, boy. Don’t take your eyes off me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am.”
“You know what to do with the beads.” I raised my ass for him to put them in.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his voice low and abject. I felt him slowly begin to deposit the beads into my anus. When he finished, I thanked him. “My pleasure, ma’am.” His voice was thin and breathy.
“Now I’m gonna sit on your dick, Greg. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Do you want me to?” I asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Beg, whore!” I yelled.
“Please, ma’am,” a low breathy growl, “please sit on my dick, ma’am. God, please, my goddess. Please,” he begged, and his voice cracked. I plunged down on him with a short moan of my own when the head
of his penis crashed into my cervix. He grunted and sighed. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome,” I said as I rode up and down in even cadence, “but don’t come, Gregory. If you do, I’ll be terribly disappointed.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he moaned. “Oh god.”
“I’ll tell you when to pull the beads,” I reminded him.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You will come at the moment you pull the beads, boy, and not a moment sooner or later, do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, straining with the effort to hold back.
“You like to be fucked, don’t you?” I asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Sometimes you’d rather not be the fucker?” I asked in a sharp tone that made me giddy.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I stopped moving up and down, leaned back, put my hands in my hair, and ground onto him frontwards and back. The head of his penis against my cervix brought joyous pain. I felt the quickening inside me. “Don’t come yet, boy. Not yet.” I bucked faster and then changed to the up-and-down motion again. I leaned forward with my hands on his thick, hard thighs and my insides turned.
“Now, boy, pull the beads now.” The orgasm began and with perfect timing and quick motion, he followed my command and groaned as his orgasm exploded inside me. My body, like the twisted oak, swirled and bent in winds of pleasure. I was securely and deeply rooted and free to bend and twist at will. I knew I had found my root; I knew this was the only place I would survive.
“Oh god, Nezzie,” he said. I lifted off him and turned like a lynx on all fours.
“You will address me properly, boy! I’m not through with your fucking ass yet, son.”
His eyes widened. “Yes ma’am.”
“Once more and you’ll be in more trouble than you could ever imagine.”
His breath was ragged and shallow. “I apologize, ma’am.”
I ignored him and untied his ankles. “Turn over. Show me your ass, boy.”
Without complaint, he complied beautifully and I retied his limbs. “Just keeping you honest, Gregory,” I said as I bound his left wrist. “Just making sure you know who the hell’s on top.” I got off the bed and leaned over him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a muffled voice, his face sunk into the mattress. I shoved the pillows under his midsection, raising his ass into the air. It was a glorious ass, round pure muscle without a single blemish. I could see why Jackson loved it so much. It was so perfect that it begged for a handprint. I wound up and hit him as hard as I could. My palm stung. He let out a yelp as every portion of his body tensed. I held my breath waiting for him to protest, but he did not. He let out a long, soft, moaning sigh and lifted his ass higher.
I was shaking and I knew my voice betrayed my dominance when I said, “My dearest Greg, you give so completely.”
“Yes, ma’am, everything I have.”
“I’m gonna fuck your ass now, do you understand?” I asked quietly.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I went to the armoire and found a dildo about the size of his own cock and filled his anus with lubricant. “Open up for me, boy. Spread your knees and open up for me.” I gently tickled his ass. My handprint was obvious, red and hot. His sweet, perfect ass lifted and opened and I slowly pushed the dildo inside him. He arched his back.
“I love you, boy.”
“Ma’am, I love you more.”
I spanked him again, harder. He grunted and then let go a long, broken sigh. I slowly moved the dildo in and out. He got louder with each inward motion.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Good boy, Greg, there’s a good boy now.”
In and out, I went slowly for a few minutes. He received the tool gladly and hungrily. I moved it quicker for a bit and he groaned louder. As he had done to me previously, I shoved it in deep and left it there. “Stay, boy, don’t you fucking move a muscle.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I sat back in the kitchenette chair and watched him work at keeping still and keeping open. His work was noble, but his strong legs eventually strained under his own weight. His muscles quaked with the intensity of keeping control.
“Who’s weak now, boy?”
He did not respond.
“Who’s weak, Greg?” I raised my voice.
“I am, ma’am, I’m weak.”
“Keep working, boy. Show me how strong you really are.”
“Yes, ma’am,” his voice cracked.
I sat and watched for another minute or two and then smacked his ass again, making him moan audibly as the dildo slipped out. He collapsed into the pillows. I left him there, took the beads and the dildo to the bathroom, and washed them thoroughly with soap. I took my time, as he had done so many times to me. If he wanted inequity, he got it.
He was beautiful lying there on his stomach, sprawled out and vulnerable. It was difficult to imagine untying him. I entertained the thought of keeping my party going for a while longer, but the urge to fall into his strong arms overrode any more ideas of domination. I was ready for things to be back to normal again, so I untied his limbs.
“It’s done, my lord.”
“I should say, Nezzie. Jesus, that was fucking amazing.” His smile was big and bright. “You were fucking amazing. You are fucking amazing. Fuck.” He shook his head as if coming out of a stupor.
“Just following my desires, my lord,” I said and fell to my knees. “Nezzie, are you okay? Didn’t you like it?”
“Yes, sir, I loved it, but I love being under you more.”
“You’re so sweet. I’m on top, baby. I am way on top, so don’t worry. Now you know how easy it is to miss being on the bottom.” He caressed my head with his strong hand as he reclined against the pillows. “There’s something to be said for being nothing, but for god’s sake, you’re really something.”
37.
“Neige Blanche Monique Delacroix.”
I thought I was dreaming. His whispering voice called to my heart, saying my name, that name, giving me his name. I opened my legs and he found my erect nipple.
“Nez, I like it that you’re always ready for me.” He ran his hand down my tummy. “I didn’t even have to teach you that, did I?”
“It comes naturally to me, my lord.” I spread my legs further. “My body reacts now to the sound of your voice. When I hear your voice, even if you’re in the other room speaking to someone else, my body reacts. Marie said something the other day, something that Jackson told her about being conditioned. Am I conditioned?”
“Jack thinks he’s so smart sometimes, but yeah. It’s a behavioral term that means you learn to react a certain way to specific stimuli.”
“Is that a bad thing, my lord?”
“No, it’s a good thing.”
“Why, sir?”
“Once you’re conditioned, and I really hate that term—I prefer the idea that once you’re trained for comfort, pleasure will come more easily—you’ll be more comfortable and things will feel good to you. Even the smallest things become more pleasurable because you won’t have to work so hard.” He moved his hand lower. “What happens when my hand is on you like this?”
“I get tingly inside. I’m getting wet for you, my lord. My hips want to move, but I know you like me to stay still.”
“Is feeling this way a bad thing?” he asked.
“No, sir.”
“You receive pleasure simply by hearing my voice. It’s a good thing; good for you and good for me. I think the biggest challenge with you is to get you to stop overthinking and allow the conditioning to take place.” His mouth moved toward my breast.
“My lord, I’m not so sure about that,” I s
aid and he lifted his hand and got out of bed.
“Not sure?”
“Sir, please, I’ve had to think for myself since I was a little kid. It isn’t easy for me to stop thinking.”
“I know. I knew this from the beginning, that this would be the biggest challenge with you. You’re smart and strong-willed. That’s why I love you so much. This is why I need you here. It’s just a matter of finding your balance. You need to figure out when to surrender your mind and when to hold back. You’re getting it, but it’ll take time.”
“I suppose, sir, but I’m not sure I get it.”
“Just now, your body reacted properly to my voice and you behaved accordingly without thought. I spoke, your pussy tingled, your nipples got hard, and you physically behaved in accordance to those stimuli without having to think about it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Those reactions and behaviors are expected of you, and with further training, they will become automatic, involuntary, like your heartbeat.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then what happened when you started to overthink it? What happened, Nez?”
“The sensations went away. Well, they didn’t go away all together, but they weren’t as strong, my lord.”
“Exactly, and so now here we are with you over there thinking your pleasure to death and I’m over here explaining the whole thing to you. Is this pleasurable to you?”
“In a way, sir, yes, because I’m curious about what’s happening to me.”
“Aw, Nez, just let yourself go. It’s me. I got you, and don’t think for a second that I’m not going through some changes as well. How about you just give it a rest. Give over to your conditioning. Don’t you trust me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“It comes down to that, ya know, trust. I’m not gonna set you up to go to hell like Jack did to Marie, okay?”
“No, sir, I don’t think that at all. I guess up till I met you, I’d become conditioned to think because if I didn’t,” I paused, “well, I had to because no one was ever there to think for me.”
Twisted Oak: A Sexual Odyssey Page 41
