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It felt that way to him. As he listened to her, imagining what she was doing, other things receded. He wished he could have done some kind of post-sex cuddling thing with her, but he would have messed that up, wouldn't he? She'd done this to him instead, which initially left him with resentment, then shame, then...quiet. She stroked his wet hair, used his bent knee as a prop when she shaved each of her legs. Then she teased him, straddling his body and pressing her cunt up to his gagged mouth, rubbing herself against it as she leaned against the tile wall.
"I could make myself come again just doing that," she said. "Looking at my sub sitting and waiting on me, pretty mouth all gagged and hands bound, his knees spread out so I can see the package and ass that's all mine... I might just chain you up in my house when we get home and never let you out."
He wondered if he wouldn't prefer that himself.
"All right." She shut off the shower and stepped out, the rustle of cloth telling him she was drying herself. She returned to lift him to his feet with one arm under his elbow, guiding him back out to towel him off. She made him put on his underwear and jeans blind. When he pulled up the jeans, she tucked his cock back into them with her caressing hands before zipping him up herself. Then she pushed him down into a sitting position on the end of the bed and removed his blindfold and gag.
She wore jeans and a lacy bra, a combination that he decided was his absolute favorite look for her so far. When she unlatched his cuffs, she tugged lightly on the ID bracelet. He reached for her, but she slipped away. "Finish getting dressed. If we're going to play with dogs, probably a T-shirt would be best. I need to handle about a half an hour of email before we head to Dale's. You can occupy yourself however you wish."
Her gaze flicked down. "But keep your hands off what's mine. That's not a permitted distraction." Her gaze glinted, anticipating his wicked thought. "Even if it's intended to distract your Mistress."
"Eddie's Junkyard and Temporary Home for Good Dogs and Imperious Cats." Marius read the sign on the gate. The "and Imperious Cats" looked like it had been added, since it was in bright red while the rest of the lettering was yellow. It was also painted in more feminine, less blocky script.
The words were embellished with a whimsical cartoon of a car on one side and a dog and cat on the other. Beyond the sign, he saw several acres of junk cars. A two-story building near the gate looked like a combination office and residence. Another long, low building housed the dog kennels, evident by the row of about twenty chain link runs with dog-sized doors providing access to the building's interior. He saw some of the dogs lying in the runs on hammock-style bed frames.
A smaller building nearby had some tall, fully enclosed cages appended to it, but no animals in them right now. Just carpeted towers he recognized as the type of thing people bought for their cats. So that was the building where the cats were. His muscles knotted up, his breath clogging in his throat in a way that irritated him. He snapped his gaze away from that building. He didn't have to go in there. He was here for a dog. To look at dogs.
This was stupid. People with dogs had stable lives, regular schedules. Green yards with picket fences. They didn't have basement apartments with tiny, narrow windows so scuffed the sunlight that managed to get through was weak, diluted. What did he know about keeping a dog, anyway? He'd never had a pet. Though they probably taught you how to do it, right?
One day working with a road crew, he'd taken his lunch break sitting on the curb of a strip mall parking lot. He'd seen an animal rescue group outside of a pet store, having some kind of adoption day. A family was being introduced to their new dog, the volunteer handing them a plastic bag full of food samples and pamphlets.
Around the same time, another volunteer had been taking a dog for a quick walk and squat, and she'd come near Marius. When Marius met the medium-sized brown and black dog's eyes, something got caught up inside his stomach like a bird in a net, the sandwich halfway to his lips.
The dog hadn't made a sound, but he'd heard it anyway, an echo from his past. A dog whining, crying...a universal plea for help.
The dog cowered back from him, lips curling in a half snarl before he retreated behind the volunteer and tugged against the leash, trying to get away from Marius. The girl's startled glance had fallen upon Marius's face. Whatever she saw there had a friendly reassurance dying on her lips. She'd managed a short nod without meeting Marius's eyes before she and the dog hurried away.
"We shouldn't be here," Marius said. "This was a bad idea."
"We're here now. Let's give it a go." Regina unbuckled the seat belt of the courtesy car the hosting company of the presentation had provided her. "Come with me. If nothing else, I want to say hi to Dale and give him a donation."
But he stayed in the car as she got out. When she paused in front of the grill, he lifted his gaze. Her jeans fit her well enough to destroy a saint's peace of mind. Her purple T-shirt had New Orleans printed across her high, generous breasts, surrounded by swirls of washed-out colors that gave it a vintage look.
It was the first time he'd seen her in sneakers instead of her boots or heels. She'd tied back the ropes of her hair in a loose tail, except for a couple she'd curled in corkscrews to frame her face.
He'd had her under him less than a couple hours ago, straining, gasping, moaning. Then she'd ridden him to a finish. After that, he'd been sure he'd screw things up, because the need to protect and distance himself had been overwhelming. She'd anticipated it, defused it, dealt with it. The gag and restraints had restored control of his thoughts and emotions again. But now she'd brought him here and shit was resurfacing. Could he trust her with what he was feeling?
He hadn't had that conscious thought before, and now he considered it, a new idea. She'd said he needed a friend as much or more than he needed a lover. Did she realize he was new to the idea of having a woman be either of those?
Putting her hands on her hips, she gave him a mock severe look. "Don't make me come pull your ass out of that car, young man."
His lips tugged and he put his hand on the door to get out. As he did, she came around and leaned on the front panel, tipping her head back and closing her eyes in response to the bright sunshine. "Feel that? What a gorgeous afternoon. There's even a bit of a breeze to cut the humidity. C'mon. It's a nice day for a walk."
When he closed the car door, she linked her hand through his elbow, as if he was escorting her. As if he was a man, and not someone who wanted to run as far away from this place as fast as he could.
He'd been quiet on the way over, and she hadn't seemed bothered by that. He was uncomfortably reminded of the quiet boy he'd once been. One who hadn't had a lot to say, but who watched everything and listened.
Then, it had been because of fear, the fear of being noticed. Now, it was because he liked listening to her. So he focused on that.
"Dale is a retired Navy SEAL. He's married to Athena, who is gracious Southern belle all the way. They're Dom and sub. He used to live out here before they were married, but he stays at her place now. Her estate." She dimpled at him. "She is mega loaded, so I like to tease him about being a kept man, which rubs his Dom fur the wrong way. He's pretty old school. Anyhow, I know male Doms poke at your testosterone reservoir, but don't fuck with him. He knows how to cut you up into pieces and make your body disappear. I like you assembled and present."
"I'm in favor of that myself," he said, and she grinned.
"I figured. Here he comes."
Retired or not, Dale looked like a SEAL. His capable, relaxed demeanor was a thin layer over a solid core of watchful preparedness. He had dark, close-cropped hair and eyes of a mixed blue-green color that reminded Marius of the sea. He was missing half a leg, his cargo pants pinned up securely on that side as he maneuvered smoothly toward them on a pair of crutches. The pants and his T-shirt highlighted a powerful body, despite the disability.
He had a ready smile for Regina that said he was fond of Marius's Mistress. The feeling was mutual, Regina taking his hand and brushing a kiss on his stubbled cheek.
