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I shrug. “I can’t explain, except that dominant men have a certain way about them that is not you.”
“I suppose. What you’ve done to yourself doesn’t particularly intrigue me. I find it frightening that you’d put yourself through this kind of abuse. I suppose, I should give Bernard credit for making you tell me. How did you plan to keep me in the dark?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think that far ahead.”
“I guess you don’t.”
He’s pissed, but he doesn’t show his anger in his voice—just in the twitch of his jaw and the feeling of hurt I read in the worry lines of his arrogant face. The silence stretches out before us—a quiet so profound neither one of us knows when it will end.
“I shouldn’t have told you,” I finally conclude and I rise to leave.
“Oh, no,” he objects. His expression alone makes me take my seat again. “You were right to tell me—or rather Bernard was right to insist. I suppose you never would have. Makes me feel like a real idiot. I suppose some afternoon I would have come home unexpectedly and there’d you’d be tied over my dining room table, some prick smacking your ass while you were being fucked with a foot long dildo. Better yet, I might have surprised you at the shop one of the nights you’re there, working late,” the twist in his voice makes me cringe, “I find you pressed against a bookshelf, gagged, bound with ropes, some leather clad stranger running a lash over you…” He stops and stares at me. His anger is quite apparent now. “Yes, I think it’s a good idea you told me so when I feel your skin and find welts there I’ll know why. Looks to me as though we’re headed down the same path you went with Heinrich. Just a different direction. Cuckolding me for this… this… “ He stops speaking, glaring into my scared eyes.
“I’m going to lose you, aren’t I?”
“You might. I’m not sure how fond I am of having a lover who needs what I can’t give. Could be my problem though. Too much ego.”
This sarcasm is so unlike him.
“You’ve given me a lot to think about, Anna. And if you don’t mind, I’d rather sleep alone.”
Chapter Six
“Tell me how you’ve been,” I ask Delia as she sits before me in my office, trembling nervously. It’s been several days since the scene at Tethers. In that time, I’ve caught her glance many times as I walk through the office. I’ve given her scant attention and have seen how she is increasingly more wary of me. I suppose I do this kind of distancing out of habit, though I feel that habit breaking down. To look at her I see such loveliness. I could bask in the glow of her face, lose myself in her eyes, in that expression of adoration. I recognize the scent of her perfume and without looking, know she’s near. More often than I’d like, she’s in my thoughts.
“I thought you’d forgotten me,” she replies. She looks so sad.
“This won’t be like the other relationships you’ve had,” I remind her.
“I know that. I was only hoping that we might…” she shudders and stops speaking. Her dark hair shines, a soft contrast to my stark office with its cold and rigid lines. She’s left her billowy curls loose and I want to run my hand through them, to grasp them tightly as we make love.
“You’re wearing your hair differently,” I comment. She smiles. “I like it.”
“Really?” Her face brightens, some of the tension easing.
“I do.”
“We’re going to dinner tonight and the theater. That’s if you have the evening free?”
“Oh my yes!” her face lights with a luster than makes my heart pound.
This fresh face of innocence pushes me when I had no plans for being pushed into love.
***
We’re spending evenings together in my apartment. I’ve been living in boxes since giving up the house, and find Delia indispensable for getting the place in order. I didn’t have the stomach for it until now. She’s a whiz at decorating and I let her have free reign, thinking I’ll have her move in soon. Her touch keeps traces of Anna from appearing. Her choices are different, her taste less classy, more eclectic and arty. She finds several new paintings that give my home a different perspective, which it needs.
We spend the nights in my bed. Before the first, however, I take her to Cavenor’s for some personal items she needs, most importantly her collar. When we’re alone, she puts it on as soon as we’re in for the night. The leather is rigid, but not uncomfortable—and simple, the black strap highlighted by three silver rings. It buckles behind her neck where a small hasp locks it. I keep the key. We purchased a harness as well, one tailor-made by Cavenor himself, with straps that cross her abundant breasts and push them high, a waistband that holds a dildo strap that bisects her cunt and ass. It works well as a chastity harness if I order her to wear a dildo in her cunt; or it serves to widen her ass with plugs, making her ready for my cock. She cringes when I force anything at that door. Being careful, I ease her into her anal duties slowly. I have her sleep with the harness some nights, a small plug in her ass to remind her even in her dreams that she’s mine to use as I wish. Though she winces at these demands there’s not been one command she’s disobeyed, and she rarely balks. I dr
aw from her a need that was so close to the surface of her consciousness that I wonder how she could have lived so long without seeing it met.
Her obedience has been remarkable, and yet, I have to punish her tonight. The thought arouses me as it will her before we’re through. Though first, she’ll be terrorized. Regardless of how compliant a submissive is there will always be that initial breach in form, that flagrant or unconscious act to test the firmness of a master’s resolve. I think this was more deliberate than accidental or unconscious. This morning, I ordered her to wear her harness to work, under her clothes. She went mad with excitement. Her body was so erotically alive she was primed to seduce any man on the street. But when I ordered her to keep a plug in her ass, and that plug was larger than any she’d used before, her expression turned frantic.
“You can do this, Delia.” I felt her ass and the empty hole, and helped her climb into the harness and secure the plug inside.
“It won’t last the day here,” she assured me.
“Oh, I think it will.”
