Текст книги "The Exhibitionist"

Автор книги: Tara Sue Me

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“We’ll see how it goes. I hate for you not to be there,” Dena said.

I hated to miss it. Wedding dress shopping was fun.

“What do your parents think about your wedding plans?” I asked.

“Mom wouldn’t care who I married as long as it meant there would be the potential for grandchildren in the future. But she’s taking her directions from Dad and he’s not speaking with me.”

I winced. “Sorry to hear that. Will they be at the wedding?”

“Only if I marry someone other than Jeff, but that’s okay.” I knew Dena’s father was a bit of snob and didn’t approve of Jeff’s working-class background. “I stopped needing their approval a long time ago. And to be honest, it’ll be better without them.”

“I’m so happy for you guys,” I said. “Everyone should be as happy as you two are.”

“I think we both finally realized we deserved happiness.”

If anyone deserved happiness, it was Jeff and Dena. They’d gone through so much to be together. But like with the journey Nathaniel and I were on, those hardships only served to make their relationship stronger.

“Okay,” Julie said. “I hate to cut this short, but I’m dying to see what Daniel has planned for tonight.”

We hugged good-bye and went our separate ways. Nathaniel was waiting at the foot of the stairs and crooked a finger at me when he saw me.

Oh yes, I couldn’t wait to see his plans.

Chapter Two

NATHANIEL

“I want you to go inside the suite and head to the bedroom,” I said when we pulled up to our hotel. “Kneel on the rug and while you wait, I want you to think about what I promised I’d do to you when we got home.”

Her sharp intake of breath left no doubt in my mind that she remembered, but just because I wanted to hear her say it, I asked, “What am I going to do when I get into the bedroom, Abigail?”

“You said you would fuck me properly, Master.”

“That’s my plan.”

She shifted her weight impatiently from side to side on the elevator ride and once I unlocked the door, I simply said, “Go.”

While she got ready, I sat on the couch and wrote out my observations of the group party. The first thing that concerned me was how lax security had seemed. There was one member working the door and one Dungeon Monitor on duty. One person at the door was enough, but it seemed to be asking a lot for one person to oversee the entire party as DM.

I tapped my pen on the notebook. What we needed was a place with video cameras so DMs could keep an eye on every room at once. And more acting DMs. Hard to get more DMs when the group itself only numbered around twenty regular attendees, with an additional fifteen or so casual members. And the only person whose house had cameras was Daniel, and even he didn’t have them installed inside. I couldn’t very well make a recommendation that a host house had to have cameras.

Things to think on another day and time. For tonight, I belonged to Abby and I was going to focus my attention and time on her.

She waited for me the way I’d requested, nude and kneeling in the middle of the floor. Her breathing was deep and even and her posture was relaxed, yet still at attention, so I knew she was waiting for me to speak.

There were no words to describe how I felt whenever I saw her waiting for me like this. Through the years, I’d tried to come up with them, but they somehow always fell short of capturing the emotion that swelled in my chest and the humility I felt at receiving her submission.

“You are amazing,” I said to her. “Absolute perfection.”

She didn’t say anything because I hadn’t given her permission to speak, but I saw her cheeks flush. Everything that was beautiful was captured in her. She would point to her breasts that weren’t as firm as they used to be since she’d had two children, or she’d mention her belly that wasn’t as perfectly flat, even though she worked out hard trying to make it so. I saw those things, too, and thought they made her even more beautiful because they were the markings of a body that had grown, nourished, and created the new life that was our children. To me, they were the badges of her love for me.

My need for her grew, and the group’s troubles left my mind. “On your back with your ass at the edge of the bed.”

She rose gracefully and moved to the bed. Her hips swayed seductively and the curve of her ass begged me to spank it. I’d have to do that later. She climbed onto the bed and got into position. When we’d checked in, she mentioned how much she liked the white bedding. Personally, I thought it was ironic—all that pure white bedding as a backdrop for all the wicked things I would do to her body.

“Touch yourself,” I told her. “Are you still wet after being flogged?”

I could see she was, but I wanted to see her finger herself. I unbuckled my pants and stepped out of them.

“Look at me,” I commanded. I fisted my cock and gave it a few pumps with my hand. “Are you wet?”

“Yes, Master.” Her voice was heavy with lust and need.

“Being tied up and flogged turned you on.”

The evidence of her arousal was slick against her upper thighs. I wanted to taste her, but feared that might push her over the edge. She’d been holding back her orgasm for over an hour by now. I moved to stand between her legs and slipped two fingers inside.

“Hell, yes. Feel that. How wet you are.”

Her lower body strained with the effort to remain still. Just that small movement showed how much she trusted me. She purposely held off letting herself orgasm because she trusted me to let her come when I knew it would bring her the most pleasure. Even now, holding still, she did it because it was what I expected and she wanted to please me. And she knew in doing so, I would please her.

I removed my fingers and brought them up to her mouth. “Suck them. Prove how much you want me. How much you want my cock.”

She took me deep inside her mouth, running her tongue around and between my fingers.

With my free hand I cupped her breast and while she gave my fingers a hard suck, I pinched her nipple. “It’s been too long since I’ve had clamps on you. I think the next weekend the kids are gone, I’m going to have you go topless all day and every so often I’ll decorate you with clamps and then have you go about your day, your breasts marked for my viewing pleasure.”

Her soft moan told me she would like that.

“Maybe I’ll have you go topless to the next group meeting, wearing only my clamps.” I pinched her other nipple. “Or maybe I’ll use clamps with bells and then fuck you, so every time I push inside your pussy, they ring. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Master. Yes to both.”

I loved playing with her breasts. I wished I had my crop with me. It would be fun to flick the tip of the crop against her nipples. But, unfortunately, I hadn’t brought my toy bag with me for the weekend and all my implements were back in New York. I smiled. Good thing I knew how to improvise.

Instead I flicked her nipples with my fingers. It wasn’t expected and she gasped. Feeling slightly evil, I held one breast and flicked the nipple again and again.

“Oh, God. Oh, fuck,” she panted almost in time with my flicks.

Her positive response turned me on and I wanted to drive her even more out of her mind with pleasure. I brought my knee up to rest between her legs, pushing against her slightly, and she moaned at the unexpected sensation.

“You’re so wet. So needy.” I pressed it harder. “I bet I could make you come just like this.”

I moved my knee back and forth, making sure to hit her in different spots and every so often, rubbing her clit. Then I gave her nipple a flick with every stroke of her clit until she was writhing under me.

“I like watching you squirm. Rocking your body with the pleasure I give you. Makes me so hard. Fucking turns me on.”

I switched to her other breast and flicked that nipple, still pressing my knee where I knew it would drive her mad.

“That’s it. Push against me. Show me how much you need me to fill that pussy.” She wiggled against me, desperate for more. “You want it? You want my cock?”

“Yes. Please, Master.”

“Since you asked so nicely.” I put my foot back on the floor. I lifted her hips, brought them in line with my cock, and slowly eased into her.

Her breasts were red from my earlier attention. Mine. I loved taking her after a play session when my marks were still visible on her skin. Loved how it showed she was mine and mine alone and I would take her knowing she would never wear another man’s marks.

With that thought consuming my mind, I thrust into her completely. Fuck. So good competed with Mine, only and forever mine.

“Oh, my God. Yes,” she said, bucking upward to draw me deeper.

I held tightly to her waist and pulled out so only the tip of me was left inside. Because I still felt a little evil, I made shallow thrusts, bouncing the tip in and out of her.

She whined.

“Who decides how much cock you get?”

“You do, Master.”

“That’s right.” I pulled out completely and watched her struggle not to beg. To be even more mean, I took my cock in one hand and slapped it a few times against her clit. “Maybe I think that’s all the cock you’ll get. What about that?”

She gyrated against the bed. “Please.”

“Please more?” I rubbed my length along her slit and across the sensitive bundle of nerves there. Then I ended it with another handful of slaps. “How long do you think I can torment your little clit until you come?”

“Not long, Master.” Her eyes captured mine and I saw how hard she was working to hold back her climax.

“I think you’ve been a very good girl today. So I’m going to give you all of my cock.” I put the head right at her entrance again. “All at once,” I said, driving into her fully.

“Damn.” Her eyes fluttered shut. “Fuck. Me.”

“Come when you want.”

I pulled out and thrust over and over, going deeper inside with each forward motion into her body. She arched her back and pushed her hips toward mine, in time with me, drawing me even farther inside.

“I never want to stop being inside you.” I thrust again. “There’s nowhere else my dick would rather be.”

Her climax shook her body on my next push into her.

“Such a good girl. Coming all over my dick.” I took some lube I had put on the bed earlier and squeezed it over a finger. “I want you to come again.”

“Oh God. Oh God. Oh God,” she chanted as I pushed a finger into her ass.

“It’s only a finger,” I said. “Not nearly as big as a cock. Of course, when I do this …” I hooked my finger a bit so it stroked me as I moved within her. The feel of her inner walls separating my cock and finger was amazing. I could only imagine how it felt for her. “I feel my cock fucking your pussy.”

She was lost in sensation and bliss. Pleasure filled her eyes. I added a second finger.

“Maybe I’ll fuck your ass and finger my cock through your pussy.”

At my words, she gave a lazy nod. I thrust deeper inside.

“I’m going to come,” she whispered.

“Yes, you are.”

Her second climax was just as intense as her first. As her inner muscles squeezed me, I knew I couldn’t hold back any longer. I gasped as I released inside her. Fuck. It’d been a long time since I came so hard. We were both still and breathing hard for a long time.

Finally, I drew her close and kissed her. “You made me so proud tonight.” She sighed and burrowed into my arms, mumbling something under her breath I couldn’t make out.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Love you.”

I smiled. “Love you, too.”

Chapter Three

ABBY

The following weekend, I made my way to our bedroom, running the obstacle course comprising moving boxes, bubble wrap, and tape. The packers we’d hired had been busy all day getting together the items we planned to take to Delaware. Most of the boxes were half-filled, though a few had already been taped up. Several empty ones lined the hallway. But no matter how much they held, they all had one thing in common—they were brown.

“I’ve decided brown is my least favorite color,” I announced to Nathaniel as I finally made it into our room.

“The most boring of all colors,” he agreed. He stood beside the bed, going through an open box. “Did Elizabeth settle down?”

“Yes, she wants to know when Jeff and Dena’s baby will be able to play and she didn’t quite grasp there were still seven months until he or she is born. And then she wanted to know how the baby got into Dena’s belly in the first place.”

Nathaniel laughed. “I wasn’t expecting that conversation just yet. I thought we had a few more years.”

I rummaged through my drawer, looking for pajamas. “You’ve got ten hours. I told her to ask you in the morning.” He stopped laughing and I giggled at his expression. “I’m kidding. I told her we’d talk about it later, that it was too late tonight. Have you seen my blue-striped pajamas?”

He nodded. “I put them in with the winter clothes yesterday. They’re in a box somewhere.”

I shut the drawer closed with more force than was necessary. “Everything’s in disarray. Nothing’s where I can find it.”

It was a slight exaggeration. We weren’t packing everything. And we technically weren’t packing anything. We’d hired a company to do that for us. But it still didn’t take away from the fact that I couldn’t put my hands on my favorite set of pajamas when I wanted them.

“In about another hour you won’t need pajamas anyway,” he said, taking the box off the bed.

He was right, of course. It was a Friday night and he’d collared me a few hours ago. We were experimenting with lower protocol outside the playroom. A useful thing, since thus far our scheduled collar time had consisted of boxes, trying to get the kids to sleep, boxes, taking Apollo outside, and boxes.

“But I’d like to wear something comfortable until then,” I said, and then quickly added, “Sir.”

I needed a few hours in the playroom. Needed to let him take over and make all the decisions. I felt stressed and frazzled. When I got that way, there was one thing guaranteed to make it all better: kneeling at Nathaniel’s feet.

My phone buzzed with an incoming e-mail. I pulled my cell out of my pocket and sighed when I saw it was from Meagan, my boss. A few months ago, the blog I wrote detailing my submissive journey came to the attention of a large media network. They offered me a job writing content for the women’s sexuality section of their Web site, as well as posts about BDSM for their late-night talk show on women’s health. Occasionally, I’d also appear on the show to answer questions.

I scanned Meagan’s e-mail. The topic for Monday night’s live episode had been changed, thanks to a particularly virulent case of the flu hitting several of the guests scheduled to talk. That meant the blog post I’d prepared wouldn’t work.

“Damn,” I said. “I told her we were moving starting this weekend. A new post will take a ton of research. I don’t know how she expects me to fit four days of work into one.”

“Will you need to work tomorrow?” Nathaniel asked.

“At some point,” I said with a huff, rubbing my forehead. “Damn. Damn. Damn. Like I didn’t have five thousand other things to do, now I have five thousand and one.”

“Look at it this way, now you have an entire week’s work done for a future show.”

I sighed. “Since Linda’s watching the kids while we finish up packing this weekend, I really wanted to enjoy some alone time with you. Especially since tomorrow night will be our last night here.” Thank goodness for Nathaniel’s aunt. I wasn’t sure what we were going to do in Delaware without her.

A strange look crossed his face, surprise or maybe guilt. “It’s not our last night by any stretch of the imagination.”

I waved my hand. “You know what I mean,” I said, looking for another pair of pajamas.

“Abigail.”

I looked up.

“This will all work out. I have to go into the city tomorrow for work, and because my meeting is so late, I’ll spend the night.”

“What?” He was going to leave me with a half-packed house?

“I have a late meeting with Charlene. Linda will still get the kids, so you’ll have time to do your work.”

All the stress of the move suddenly mixed together with my irritation at having to rewrite the work I’d done, and Nathaniel’s late-night meeting with Charlene was the cherry on top of an ice-cream sundae of total crap.

“When were you planning on telling me?” I asked.

“I just found out this afternoon.”

“That woman has got some nerve setting up a meeting for our last weekend home, when I’m wearing your collar, and she knows we’re moving.” I crossed my arms. “It’s like she’s a mind reader and knows exactly what to do to piss me off.”

“Abigail.” His voice was a warning, but Charlene was like a trigger for me.

“Tell her you’ll meet her Monday night.”

“You’ll be at the station. And Linda can’t keep the kids then.”

I crossed my arms. “There has to be something you can do.”

“Oh, there is.” He spoke calmly, but we’d been married enough years for me to know he could conceal his anger behind a mask of calm.

“Then do it.”

His voice was low and soft when he spoke. “Kneel.”

His command caught me off guard, but one look at his tense expression let me know he meant business. I abandoned my search for pajamas and dropped to my knees.

“Just to make sure we’re both on the same page, are you currently wearing my collar?”

I swallowed. Damn it. Charlene had a way of getting me in trouble without even being here. “Yes, Master.”

“I know we’re experimenting with some lower protocol, but that does not give you free rein to speak however you wish. I know you have issues with Charlene. You have not made this a secret.”

Damn straight I haven’t made it a secret.

“This is after you have repeatedly stated that you trust my choice of employee and that you trust me around her. Isn’t that correct?”

“Yes, Master,” I admitted begrudgingly.

“Furthermore, why do you assume it was Charlene who set up the meeting?”

I didn’t have a response to that.

“I set up the meeting,” he continued. “She wanted to meet Monday night. I told her that wouldn’t work because you would be at the station and I knew the kids would be with Linda tomorrow and one of us needed to be home. I actually thought I was doing you a favor by giving you some time to yourself. I know this week has been hectic for you.”

“May I speak, Master?” It seemed prudent to slip back into higher protocol.

“Yes.”

“I appreciate the fact that you were thinking about me and wanted to give me some alone time tomorrow, and I understand why you didn’t want to meet with her on Monday night.” I paused, trying to formulate in my head how to word the next bit. “But you are also aware of how I feel about her, and it just raises the question, how did you think I’d react?”

“Have you or have you not told me you trust my choice of employee and you trust me enough to know I would never break my vows to you?”

My stomach sank as I picked up on where he was going. “Yes, Master. I’ve said that.”

“In fact, you’ve said that repeatedly. Correct?”

“Yes, Master.”

“That is why I thought you might have a different response.”

He was right, I’d told him that several times. But saying it was different from living it. “I’m sorry, Master.”

He was silent for several seconds. “I’m not sure what it’s going to take in order for you to understand that Charlene is not a threat to us. What is a threat is this jealousy that is completely unfounded. It makes you seem petty, and you’re not a petty person.”

He hadn’t asked a question, so I didn’t speak. I almost apologized again but changed my mind. He didn’t seem to be in a mood for multiple apologies.

“I’m not sure what your writing schedule looks like tomorrow, but I want you to take time to write out ten things you can do to overcome your issues with Charlene.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Then you are to draft a schedule for implementing them. We will discuss both on Tuesday.” I nodded.

“That’s tomorrow, though,” he said. “For tonight, I want you in the playroom in five minutes.”

He left the bedroom. Probably to prepare for whatever it was he had in mind. I wasn’t sure if he’d had a scene planned before my outburst about Charlene or not. If he had, I was willing to bet it’d changed.

I undressed quickly and walked to the playroom. Nathaniel was there already, his back to me as he worked with something in a far cabinet. I closed and locked the door behind me, shooting a quick glance to a nearby shelf where the steady green lights of the child monitors ensured that we’d hear either child if one needed us. Elizabeth was four and typically slept through the night, but almost-two-year-old Henry had a history of ear infections and never slept well.

Nathaniel hadn’t moved and didn’t say anything, so I made my way to the middle of the room and knelt. I looked down at the floor and fell almost immediately into my yoga breathing. I breathed in the calm of the playroom and exhaled the stress of my jealousy.

He didn’t come to me immediately, perhaps allowing me time to get in my headspace. When he did walk toward me, I heard him place several things behind me.

“This is not a discipline session; it’s a lesson in trust,” he said. “However, because it’s a lesson and not a play scene, you’re not allowed to come. Understand?”

“Yes, Master.” Damn it.

“I’m also going to film our session,” he said. “Stand for me, Abigail.”

He’d recently installed a video camera in the playroom and occasionally filmed our time together. It added another layer of excitement for me. I hurried to my feet and he took down the chains above my head and buckled my wrists into the cuffs. He walked to stand in front of me.

“This is going to be intense.” He reached above my head and wrapped my fingers around a bell. “Drop it to safe word.”

My heart pounded. There was only one reason he’d give me a bell to stop the scene. My suspicion was confirmed when he took a ball gag out of his pocket. Holy hell. It’d been a long time since we used a gag. Even though he told me I wouldn’t be coming, arousal warmed low in my belly.

“Open,” he said, and slid the gag into place.

Next he withdrew a blindfold and covered my eyes. I thought he’d start the scene, but instead he brushed my hair back and pulled it into a low ponytail.

“I’ve taken away your sight, and your ability to talk and move. Now I’m going to take your hearing. You will be totally and completely at both my mercy and disposal. Nod if you understand.”

I normally loved this type of scene, but normally I was given permission to orgasm. I wasn’t nearly as excited as I typically would be. I nodded.

“You have the bell to drop if this becomes too much. Drop it and we stop immediately.”

He normally didn’t take so much time reminding me of my safe words or in this case, safe out signal. For the first time in a long while, I felt a twinge of nervousness.

“If you don’t have any objection, I’m going to insert the earplugs.”

My fist tightened on the bell. I didn’t want to drop it, but I felt reassured just knowing it was there.

He waited a few more seconds and then I was plunged into total nothingness.

Everything was already black from the blindfold, but it wasn’t until the earplugs were put in that I felt truly vulnerable.

There was nothing but silent darkness and I was naked and exposed. I allowed the feelings of being in such a position to wash over me, only relishing the fear because I felt completely safe.

I waited for Nathaniel’s touch. When I’d been in similar positions before, I’d jump when he touched me, and this time I wanted to be prepared. I waited for his touch, anticipating it on my back, or my breasts, or my ass. But there was nothing.

There was no movement at all that I could perceive. Just stillness and darkness and silence. Nathaniel would never leave me alone in such a state. I knew he had to be in the room somewhere. But my mind wandered. He could have walked out of the room and left me all alone. I wouldn’t have been able to tell.

The silence became deafening, and I imagined I heard the shuffling of feet or a creak of the floorboard. The stillness hummed inside my head and I heard my heart beating and felt the movement of air in and out of my lungs. It was the only thing to grasp on to, so I focused on my breathing.

Even though I said I would anticipate his touch, the first sweep of his fingers down my back made me jump. He pressed against me, and his body shook with laughter. I smiled. Some things never changed. With a quick kiss to the nape of my neck, he was gone.

I was prepared for his touch, but the sharp press of metal along my upper arm almost made me drop the bell.

Is that a knife?

I knew it wasn’t. Blood play was one of my hard limits. But it felt like a knife and it had stung and, holy shit, there was something wet on my skin. Panic clawed at my throat.

The feel of metal left my skin and his arms surrounded me, hugging me tight.

I was safe. I was safe. I was safe.

I repeated the words over and over in my head, and relaxed into his arms. Gradually, my racing heart slowed and the panic disappeared. He took a step back and the sharp pain returned, skimming along the other arm. I lifted myself up on my toes and twisted to get away from it, but he slapped my butt as a reminder I was to be still.

I argued with myself. It felt so much like a knife, it had to be a knife. But just as certainly, I knew it couldn’t be. He would never go against my hard limits.

Trust him. The scene was all about trusting him. And I trusted him enough to know beyond a shadow of doubt, he wasn’t cutting me.

I felt the next sweep of whatever instrument it was around my breast, and though I’d told myself it wasn’t a knife, it again felt sharp. I tried to protest around the gag in my mouth. But of course I couldn’t. He dragged whatever it was up across my nipple. It hurt, but it wasn’t a constant pain. I sucked in my breath. That meant it wasn’t a knife, right? I couldn’t decide. For long seconds there was nothing, just my mantra repeating in my head: I’m safe, I’m safe, I’m safe.

He circled the other breast and, fuck it all, it felt as if he was slicing my skin. My fingers tightened around the ball. But right before I dropped it, I realized the liquid couldn’t be blood; there wasn’t enough.

I waited for the next pass and he surprised me by pressing it down my side. I gasped around the gag. He didn’t stop, but brought it around my back and up the other side. I jerked against the pressure, but he wouldn’t stop unless I dropped the bell.

Trust.

Trust.

Trust.

I focused on that one word, and before long, I was drifting in my head. I trusted him with my life. He held my soul in his hands and would protect me.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed before I realized he was simply holding me. He’d somehow managed to unbuckle me without me noticing. He stood behind me, his arms once more wrapped tightly around me.

His hands came up and gently, one at a time, he removed the earplugs. Sound came back to me in a loud whoosh. But it was his voice I listened for, and when it came it was low and husky.

“I’m so proud of you. I know that was intense.”

I still had the gag on, so I couldn’t speak, but I nodded to show him I’d heard.

“I’m going to remove the gag now,” he said.

It fell away and I worked my jaw open and closed several times.

He wiped my mouth with a soft cloth. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, Master.” I couldn’t say much else because I felt I was still on sensory overload.

“I’m going to remove the blindfold.”

I closed my eyes, knowing even the dimly lit playroom would appear bright after I’d been in the darkness for so long. Even when the blindfold was removed, I kept my eyes closed for a minute. Then I slowly eased them open.

The first thing I did was look down at my body. I couldn’t help it. As I suspected, there were no cuts, only faint red lines that appeared to be fading quickly.

“Go ahead and look,” he said. “I don’t blame you at all.”

My mouth felt as if I’d eaten cotton for dinner, but I managed to get out “What was that, Master?”

His only reply was a chuckle. “Top-secret Dom tool.”

I turned in his arms. “I knew you wouldn’t cut me, Master.” And as I said the words out loud, their significance hit me.

He wouldn’t cut me emotionally, either.