He cleaned himself up with the towel before standing. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. She wished she could beg him to fuck her right then.
He looked amused. “Are you all right, pet?”
She nodded. “Thank you, Sir.”
His gaze softened. He pulled on his shirt, briefs, and jeans before leaning in and kissing her forehead. He reached behind her and unclipped her wrists. “No, thank you, pet. As you can see, playing with you like this seems to have given my decent libido a boost. Usually I’m good for one.” He grinned. “You’ve set my sadistic motor running and that always makes me horny.”
He could have taken advantage of her at any time that night. He could have asked her to let him fuck her, or to suck him off, or anything. He had her trussed up tightly and so deep in subspace that she would have gladly begged for him to do it if he’d suggested it.
But he didn’t.
He’d kept his word.
Is this what trust feels like?
He led her back to the playroom, where he removed the wrist and ankle cuffs, but had her keep the collar on. She put her dress and sandals back on and he brought her glasses.
He stood in front of her by her car door, his hands on her shoulders. “Thank you for tonight, pet. It was wonderful.”
He’s thanking me? “I had a great time, Sir,” she said.
“Any answers yet to those questions you’re puzzling over?”
She nodded, wishing she could tell him what was on her mind and afraid it would mean the end of their arrangement if she did. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“I’m glad I can be the one to help you find them.”
She wanted to rise up on her toes and kiss him on the lips, to feel his goatee and moustache rubbing against her cheek. “Me, too, Sir.”
Chapter Twenty
Monday morning, Shayla crawled into the shower after sending Tony a good-morning text and starting her coffeepot. She stood under the hot spray to loosen her aching muscles.
How can pain feel so damn good, and pleasure feel like pain?
Every pang and twinge reminded her of the things that happened to her over the weekend.
She had no idea how to explain it to others, but at least she felt miles closer to understanding it on an instinctive level.
Note to self, never mention to Tony when I’m horny. She had to laugh, because while she’d witnessed forced orgasm play last weekend, she never imagined in her wildest dreams it could feel like…
That.
She also never imagined she’d ever reach a point of pleasure so acute it almost felt like pain.
Hence the term “orgasm torture.” Duh.
When she emerged from the shower, he’d returned her text.
How do you feel, pet? :)
She laughed, knowing that was a loaded question if she ever read one.
Wrung out like a wet dishcloth, Sir.
She was getting dressed when she heard her phone go off again.
:) Good. Can you keep Wednesday open for Me? We’ll do pizza at your place. I’ll take it easy on you.
She smiled as she noticed in text or e-mail, he’d started capitalizing his pronouns. She liked it. It made her feel…
Owned.
She shoved away her feelings for him and locked them up tight. She didn’t want to ruin this by getting clingy and needy and having him pull the plug.
Yes, Sir.
His reply came as she was getting into the car to head to work. Good girl. I’ll be there by seven.
It was hard to force herself into work mode. Her mind kept drifting to the events of the past forty-eight hours. She admitted it was clichéd, but it felt like her world had been upended, yet everyone else still acted the same.
After the Monday morning editorial meeting, she opened the document containing her story and went through it. She still needed to add some to the end of it. After what she’d experienced, she now knew how to write it. She included basic information she’d learned in the submissive class the week before, the whip class, and the bondage class, before writing her conclusion.
I invite you along on this journey of discovery with me. In a very short amount of time I’ve had many stereotypes pulverized, met wonderful, welcoming people, and realized that the saying about normal being nothing more than a setting on a dryer is more true than I ever knew. This series of articles will examine different facets of BDSM, and the real, everyday people who practice it. It might make some of you realize you aren’t as “weird” as you thought you were. It might also give some of you a welcomed insight into questions that have run through your own mind.
I know I, for one, will never be the same. And I think in my case that’s a good thing. (Apologies to Martha Stewart.)
After one more read-through, Shayla selected the entire article and copied it into an e-mail that she BCC’d to Loren, Leah, Tilly, Clarisse…and Tony.
She added a note at the top.
Sorry for the short notice, but I’m turning this in this afternoon. If you all have any suggestions or corrections I need to make, please let me know. I should be able to make edits to it until late Tuesday.
She hit send and sat back in her chair.
Tony texted her a short while later. Got e-mail. Busy with meetings. Later?
She smiled. Yes, Sir. Later is fine. Thank You.
For him she’d do her damnedest to hold the thing until the absolute last minute on Tuesday afternoon if she had to.
Loren called her within an hour. “The article’s great. So? How’s the ass?”
Shayla laughed. “Doing good.” She’d texted back and forth with Loren a few times Sunday afternoon before going to Tony’s.
“Aaand? Tell me what happened last night.”
She lowered her voice. “He introduced me to forced orgasm torture.”
“Oooh, lucky bitch.” She giggled. “Defies description, doesn’t it?”
“Um, yeah, that’s one way of putting it.”
Tony called her after lunch. “I read the article, pet. It sounds good. I don’t have any recommendations.”
She felt herself blush. “Thank you, Sir.” Leah, Tilly, and Clarisse had also weighed in via text, e-mail, and phone, also giving their endorsements.
“So you liked the suggestion I had about what to do during our next private session, hmm?”
Her face felt like a supernova. Her gaze dropped to her lap. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered. Damn, she’d have to clean up after this phone call. She felt how wet his voice had already gotten her.
“We’ll do more talking than play on Wednesday,” he said, “but I want you to be naked except for your collar when I get there. Understand?”
She sucked in a breath. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered.
“Is anyone listening to you right now?” he asked.
“No, Sir, but I’m in a cubicle.”
“You’re such a good girl to remember our protocol,” he said. “Calling me Sir while at work. Such a brave, good pet.”
Her insides felt like mush. She knew if she didn’t get to the bathroom soon to clean up, she’d definitely end up with a wet spot on her slacks. “Thank you, Sir.”
He chuckled. “I’ll let you get back to work. I’m looking forward to Wednesday night.”
“Me, too, Sir. And thank you.”
“You’re welcome, pet. It is most definitely my pleasure.”
Tony ended the call and fought the urge to giggle. Instead of imagining torturing his coworkers or boss, now he could recall the real-life torture he’d inflicted upon Shayla. He’d already started the morning by rubbing one out in the shower.