AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I peered into Jason’s study. He was sat his desk, his fingers thrumming on the laptop keys. I waited by the desk, rotating the papers in my hands. I’d learnt to be silently patient. After a few minutes, he stopped typing, closed the lid, and signalled for me to approach. I handed him the pieces of paper then knelt by his feet.
“I have some…thoughts.” I gazed at my thighs: blotches of baby food with grubby finger marks on the jeggings and two of my nails chipped from the afternoon’s gardening. So much for clause nine—I had failed already with regard to deportment. Seeing him all regal and boss-like, I tucked my hands out of sight. He managed to appear quite magnificent. Was I about to trivialise his efforts?
“Let’s discuss those now,” said Jason, laying the sheets out on his desk.
Here goes. I blurted, “We’re not drifting to a ‘128 Rules for Slaves to Follow’ in a fantasy world where neither of us has a job, friends, or baby to interfere and I have to ask permission to pee? Because it isn’t happening. And are these verbatim? I mean, do I have to memorise what you’ve written?”
He leaned back in his leather swivel chair.
“Do we argue over semantics? Some are more literal than others. For instance, I consider it quite straightforward you don’t masturbate or go off on your own or travel without permission. Others about communication, respect, and obedience concern behaviours, not just yours, but mine, too. It’s no point my telling you to express your concerns if I’m not prepared to take the time to listen. So, no, they’re not verbatim or rituals of our lives. They’re a tool to help guide us in our relationship and ensure you understand what I consider is a punishable action and what is really about developing our own particular relationship.”
“You’re precise with your words, Jason. Don’t deny it,” I pointed out. Oh, the times his precision had caught me out. Those moments raced through my mind, and I stuck my chin out, demonstrating I meant business.
“All right, let’s go through your concerns. First up,” began Jason, “I may not ask for any form of sexual activity with my Dominant or offer my sexual assets for the purposes of achieving my own gratification unless I approach my Dominant and ask permission to do so first. The sexual needs of my Dominant take precedence over my own. Well?” He raised his eyebrows.
“See? It is very…wordy, and what about special occasions, birthdays? Can’t I surprise you with something?” I clutched my clammy hands together on my lap. Why was this so damn hard to do—speaking to my husband, expressing my needs?
He smiled, one of his more warming, inviting ones, which helped unclench my fingers and alleviated the nervous flurry of butterflies in my belly.
He stroked his chin with the tips of his fingers. “That’s showing love, not asking for sex. Doing it for the purpose of having me would be the wrong motivation. I don’t want you to manipulate or control me. Instead, think about what motivates you to do something.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes to the ceiling. I knew Jason well enough to understand his train of thought. “Okay, you want me to be romantic but not the demanding, clingy sub who wears a fuck me T-shirt all day. Have to see how that one works out.” I shrugged. I’d a flirty habit, which Jason had steered into a more attractive version. “Sexually appealing clothing. May I buy more sexy lingerie? Also, isn’t this in contradiction of asking with my ‘assets’? Do you want me to look sexy or not?” I narrowed my eyes, despatching him a, “make up your darn mind” expression. At least that was what I hoped I conveyed.
He sighed. My man hated being interrogated—that was his job, not mine, but he answered, adding a small smirk. “New clothes have to fit in the existing wardrobes and drawers. I’m not giving you any more storage space. There is a difference between looking adorably sexy and asking for a fuck. I like you to look desirable and elegant, not hanging your tits out for every Tom, Dick, and Harry.” Again, his reply satisfied the lingering doubt in my head he intentionally made life difficult for me.
“Quote: I may not ask for permission but wait to be told I may come and do so for your pleasure as quickly as I can. I like begging!” I exclaimed with a mock pout.
“Ask permission to beg, then. I will either say yes or no! Don’t make it a habit. I want to teach you to come on demand. This helps you to learn to wait for my command.” Jason’s clarification brought a jaw drop from me.
“Come on demand! Without stimulation?” I gaped at the clause covering my orgasms. I wasn’t a machine. I needed the tactile extras to bring me to completion.
“Your orgasms are mine, remember. You have them for my pleasure and at my control. You’ll improve in your ability to come when you hear my voice or some other trigger. I haven’t attached timescales. Don’t feel pressured by this one, babe. It’s achievable if you work hard on it. As for stimulation, I’m not expecting you to behave like a light switch. There will be sensory stimulation given to you. What form it takes will be mine to decide.” The soft smile reassured me he wasn’t expecting magic from my ability to control my orgasms.
I moved on. “You want to control my hairstyle?” I referred to the clause about permission for changing my appearance. “I thought micromanaging me was out of your remit?”
He wagged a finger. “Let’s say if I can’t tie it back into a ponytail you’re in trouble.” The relaxed features remained present—the warning looks absent.
I remembered the next rule and smiled. “Aftercare. Will cherish this one.”
“Me, too, babe,” said Jason softly then his smile disappeared, along with my own. He’d picked up the paper and read my query to my least favourite rule: restrictions on social media usage.
I gave it my best—head tilted to one side, eyes downcast, lips pouting. “Can’t I have a Facebook page for vanilla friends and family? Post up Josh’s piccies?”
He slapped the arm of his chair. “No!” I jerked, snapping my head back and wiping the pout off my face. “You can use text, email, and instant messaging with friends. You may comment anonymously where possible as long as you reveal nothing to identify you. That is it, nothing else.” Jason’s tone held rigid finality, and I wanted it gone.
“Okay. I’m disappointed about Facebook. My friends don’t understand why I don’t have one. But I won’t ask again.” I moved on to the next key point—pleasing the sadist in Jason, learning to be the masochist for him. My constant training. “I’m nervous about where you’re taking me with pain, but I trust you, and I know I will see it as a positive development. You won’t spring things on me? I don’t mean warm-up flogging or sensual spankies, you know, the full on…you. I don’t think I could do masochism without warning.”
“Babe, I have no plans to creep up behind you with a cattle prod. If I’m trying something new or pushing limits, you will always be told.”
I ignored the reference to the cattle prod. Electricity remained a hard limit, something I wouldn’t consider doing, at least for the near future.
I took a deep breath. “Punishments and safe-words.” My lower lip trembled because I didn’t want to dig down and think about why this made me nervous. He patted his knee, letting me sit on his lap a
nd snuggle up. “Removing safe-words is a hard limit,” I reminded him. “Does this clause mean I can’t safe-word during a punishment? You’ve never...I can’t….” I lost the words from my head.
He squeezed, drawing me closer until his mouth settled in my hair. “I wouldn’t remove your red safe-word under any conditions. If you freak out and have to stop, then I understand. You have a history I have to cater to, and I wouldn’t put the fear in you. You need to understand why you want me to ease up or stop. Simply due to pain, or are you emotionally going to freak out? The first is defeating the purpose of punishments. They’re meant to be unpleasant and painful. The second one is a better reason. This caveat about safe-wording doesn’t cover impact play during scenes.” He kissed my hair. “Be honest, Gem. I don’t punish you very often, and it’s preferable to use something not based on corporal punishment. Revoking privileges would be more suitable these days. Now you’re my little subbie all day every day, I have this control over you, don’t I?”
I rested against his chest, and the piece of paper slipped onto the table. The discussion about rules had brought out deeper desires, and they focused my thoughts on one area of my anatomy. A tingle, a tiny jangle of nerve endings fired up below, and Jason responded, nudging my bottom with his stiffening cock. I jiggled on his lap, casting aside my doubts, remembering nothing else mattered if we had each other.
