“Yes, Sir.”
He set about putting their salads together, glad to find out she also liked bleu cheese dressing, his favorite. The turkey noodle casserole he’d put together earlier only had five more minutes in the oven.
He’d given serious thought to making her eat her dinner on the floor out of one of the stainless steel dog bowls he had stowed in his cabinet, then opted not to. He didn’t want to push her too hard, especially not after the night she’d had.
And the evening she was about to experience.
She would eat on the floor, on her pillow, but he’d let her use utensils.
This time.
Shayla did her best not to come throughout dinner, although getting up from the pillow to move from the kitchen out to the living room, where they would eat in front of the TV, and then back down again onto her pillow once there, proved problematic. He was nice enough to lower the speed and pattern of the egg, but the crotch strap on the harness rubbed against her aching clit and made moving difficult.
Dinner was delicious, but she had difficulty concentrating on the conversation and eating at the same time.
When they finished, Tony grinned. “Are you having problems there, pet?”
“Um, trying not to, Sir.”
“Such a good girl. Considering the walloping you took last night, I wanted to introduce you to a different form of sadism.”
“Thank you, Sir. You’re too good to me.”
He laughed and reached for the remote, which he’d put on the coffee table next to his plate. “Ooh, sarcasm. That means pet needs a little more distraction.”
Her protest turned into a plaintive moan as she struggled not to orgasm when he bumped the setting higher on the vibrating egg.
“You can always safeword,” he reminded her with an evil grin.
Truth be told, she didn’t really want the torture to end.
She shook her head.
Now gave her another look she loved besides his playful smile. This grin, almost like a little boy with a toy, made him look practically giddy. She loved it.
She loved that she was the reason he smiled like that, the source of his amusement, even if at her own expense.
Then again, it was no large sacrifice to endure.
He didn’t let her help clean up. He moved her back to the kitchen on the pillow where he could keep an eye on her and keep her mentally off-balance with the vibrating egg. When he had the leftovers put up and the dishes clean, he crooked a finger at her.
Carefully, oh so carefully, she got to her feet without orgasming.
Barely.
He smiled. “Such a good pet. I think you’re ready for the next part of our night.” He turned the egg off. She found that to be both a blessed relief, and that she missed it.
He picked up her blanket and pillow, hooked a finger through the front ring of her collar, and led her back to the playroom.
Working quickly, he removed the harness and pulled the egg from her. After wiping down the harness, and then washing the egg in a sink in the far corner that she’d missed before, he draped a towel over one of the spanking benches. He adjusted it to his liking, so the head was higher than the feet. Rolling up another towel, he put it at the head of the bench.
“On your back, pet. Ass at the lower end.”
She did. He quickly used clips on the base of the bench to attach the wrist cuffs so her arms were down and immobilized. “Comfy, pet?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He grinned. “You won’t be for long.”
He grabbed another set of leather cuffs and attached them to her ankles. Then came a two-foot-long, smooth metal rod less than an inch in diameter with eyelets at each end.
“Spreader bar,” he said in response to her unasked question.
He clipped the ankle cuffs to the spreader bar, then made her draw her knees up to her chest.
It left her wide open and exposed.
“Oh, it gets better, pet,” he assured her. He used ropes, tied to the ankle cuffs and the base of the bench above her head, so that she couldn’t put her legs down if she wanted to. “And I don’t want you to fall off, either.” He used more rope, securing her waist to the bench.
“There. That’s better.” He actually clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Questions, pet?”
She shook her head.
He pulled a chair over, and a rolling tray that reminded her of a hospital bed tray.
She watched as he assembled a variety of implements, dildos, and vibrators before he appeared satisfied.
He sat down in front of her and leaned to one side so she could look him in the eye. His expression grew serious. “Same rules apply, pet. Green, yellow, red. If at any time there’s bad pain, or you get a leg cramp or something, then you safeword. All right?”
She nervously nodded. She was so horny, and now apprehensive, she didn’t dare speak.
“Good girl.” His grin returned.
The first item on his agenda was introducing her to nipple clamps. He stood and stepped beside her, holding them up. “These aren’t too bad,” he said as he flicked one of the clamps, which resembled long tweezers. “I want to work you up to the heavier, vibrating kind.”
He gently rolled her left nipple between his thumb and forefinger, making it hard and aching from the attention. She yelped when he quickly attached the clamp to it.
The clamps were joined by a length of light, jewelry-weight chain. He repeated the attention to her right nipple before attaching the clamp.
Aaaand now her clit really throbbed like crazy.
He hooked one finger under the chain and lifted it, applying just a little tension to her nipples. “How’s that, pet?”
“Ye–Yes, Sir.”
He laughed. “Just think, maybe one day I’ll be able to have your nipples pierced. Then you can wear a pretty, jeweled chain joining them and a ring through your clit hood. I could attach a leash to it and lead you around by it.”
Her cunt throbbed at his words and the visual they painted.
His eyes narrowed as his gaze speared her. “Would you like that, pet?” he quietly asked.
She discovered yes, she thought she just might. “Yes, Sir.”
The grin returned. “Such a good girl. You are in for a treat. I was going to start training you for anal tonight, then thought no, we’ll save that for next weekend. You were so good last night I’d rather just give you a night of pure pleasure.”
Her heart raced. Anal? Yes, they’d talked about it. And yes, she’d agreed to it, but she’d never actually done it before in her life. Until now, that orifice had always been exit-only.
She suspected if he worked her up the way she felt now before trying it, he’d have her begging for the biggest butt plug he had in minutes.
He returned to his seat.
If going to the gynecologist had ever been this fun, I’d have appointments every month.
“From this point on, pet, you have permission to come as much as you want. In fact, I’m counting on it because that’s sort of the whole point.” He leaned to the side so he could look her in the eye. “If we were in a relationship, by the way, there would be no red allowed for this kind of scene.” He smiled.
“Wh–Why not, Sir?”
He laughed. “That’s a benefit of being in a relationship. Orgasms don’t hurt. Yes, I realize after a while you can get raw and chafed. I’m not talking about that. Then the code is black, meaning medical, all play stops immediately. That is never taken off the table. But if a woman wants to safeword after two or three orgasms just because they’re intense, not painful, that sort of defeats the whole purpose of ‘forced orgasm torture.’”
She nodded. Her brain found it difficult to speak with the nipple clamps distracting her.