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If I’m good, maybe during that shower….
He deposits me near the toilet and says he’s going to get some towels. He hasn’t given me any instructions, so once I’m done relieving myself and washing my hands, I stand in the spot where he left me. I’m unable or unwilling to move until he returns to tell me what he wants me to do.
When he returns, I see he’s removed his T-shirt and jeans and is only in his underwear. He deposits the stack of towels on the counter. “You only use those to dry off. Never to cover up. While you are here and collared, you will always be naked.”
I bow my head, look at the floor. “Yes, Master.”
“In the shower,” he says, and I turn to comply.
I enter the shower, which is plenty big for both of us, but he stands outside, instructing me to turn it on and warm the water, which I do. He’s standing and carefully watching me through the clear glass. Handing me a new bar of soap that smells wonderful, he orders me to wash myself. And as I comply, he watches me with heated eyes that devour me. I shampoo my hair and soap up every inch of my body.
But before I can step back into the stream to rinse myself, he stops me. Then he turns and pulls a taper candle from a fancy gold candlestick near the sunken bathtub and enters the shower still in his underwear.
He turns me toward the tiled wall and massages my back slowly, his hands gliding over my soapy skin. Every firm stroke of his hands pulls me tighter and tighter, like the string on a bow.
“Touch yourself, Madeline,” he says in a voice that brooks no argument nor hesitation.
Flooded with relief that he’s going to reward me with an orgasm at last, my hand slips down between my legs. “Slowly, Madeline. You may not come yet.”
“But—”
“You do not have permission to speak,” he interrupts when I’m about to ask him if he’ll let me come today or if this is just still more torture. Stiffly, I comply and say nothing, my hand moving slowly between my legs.
“This is me showing you trust, Madeline. I know how badly you want to come. I know how much you need it. And soon, I will give you what you need. Everything you need. Even the things you don’t yet realize you need. Is that clear? But you must obey.”
I swallow and continue to rub myself between my legs, each stroke bringing me closer to that elusive release. His hands are moving in circles over my skin, lower and lower until….
His fingers slide into the cleft in my ass, to wash me there. I immediately tense up.
“Relax,” he commands, and with a deep breath, I force myself to comply.
“Good,” he purrs and that one word rips a hole right through me. I’m suddenly very close to coming so I pull my hand away. He notices. “That’s a very good girl, Madeline…” And his fingers slip lower along the crack of my ass until…his fingertips brush the edge of my anus. I gasp in shock. His other arm, wrapped around my front, tenses, as if he’s preparing for my resistance. So I force myself to accept what he’s doing to me, realizing that this is the test.
And strangely, as weird as this sensation is—all of it, him washing me, him putting his hand and fingers in my ass, all of it is his way of staking a claim, proving to himself and me that he does in fact have complete control of my body, just as he wanted.
“Hands on the wall, Madeline.” I brace myself there by doing just as he asks. I shift against him and feel his engorged cock throbbing against me. He groans low and deep, letting out a long breath and an expletive. “I’m going to fucking explode right here and now and it will be your fault. Your submission is driving me insane with lust. I’ve never desired a woman like I want you right now.”
His fingers push inside me and there’s sharp pain. I let out a yelp and push back.
“Hold still. Remain silent. Your body is mine to do with as I please. And you will please me, Madeline.”
I feel something cold and hard between my legs and realize that it’s the taper candle that he’d grabbed. He’s running it along the slit of my sex, as if gleaning my natural lubricant. He rubs it against me over and over again, but not hard enough to allow me to come. My head tips forward to press against the cold tiled wall, and I force myself to relax.
Suddenly he’s pressing the blunt end of the candle up to my rear entrance and I jump, balking.
“Take a deep breath and unclench your muscles.”
But I don’t want to. I don’t want him to invade me like this.
His mouth consumes my ear. “Do you want to come, Madeline? Do you want your orgasm? Then you do as you’re told and you do not hesitate. Resist again, and I’ll chain you to the bed for another day.”
I slowly nod and force myself to relax. The minute I do, he’s pressing that candle into me, pushing it slowly inside me, applying intense pressure to the closed opening until my muscles give way and it gains entrance.
And he keeps pushing it until it’s halfway in.
At first it hurts. He slides it a few times, once pulling at it and pushing again, a few times twitching it to the side. Soon it feels like it’s softening, as if absorbing my body’s heat.
He’s breathing grows more labored and hoarse the more he manipulates the candle inside me. I can tell it’s intensely exciting him. But he says nothing, just moans into my ear, telling me how sexy my complete submission is.
