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“But I’m not your submissive,” she reminded him.
He sighed. “Abby, I explained that to you. It would be-”
“Challenging,” she finished for him. She’d understood that. Or at least the general idea of it since he hadn’t been too specific as to what would be expected of her other than to be at his beck and call sexually, which she pretty much already was. That and she’d have to learn to swallow. And anal. She cringed inside a little. But he had said he wouldn’t expect her to jump right in. She could put a toe in, maybe, and test the waters. “I want to try,” she said firmly.
Mark didn’t respond for a moment. “You’ll have to follow all my rules. And obey. No matter what,” he told her.
“But not everything right away, you said.”
“Abby, it won’t be easy, even in the beginning, not for you.”
“Will it hurt?” she asked, chewing her bottom lip. “A lot?”
“I will hurt you, yes. A little. But I won’t harm you,” he replied. “I won’t break the skin or cause physical damage, either permanent or temporary. But the things I do to you won’t always be things you want or even like. They’ll be for my pleasure alone.”
“But I get pleasure, too, right? I mean you said lots of orgasms and…other stuff.” She blushed furiously at the memory of him devouring her pussy.
He pretended to think about it. “Sixty-forty, I’d say. Maybe seventy-thirty.” She glared at him and he laughed. “I mean in your favor, pet.” He leaned in closer and whispered into her ear. “You’ll like most of what I do you if you give yourself permission to.”
She couldn’t help but smile a little. “Do I still get a safeword?”
He nodded. “Absolutely. But I expect you to think about it before you use it.”
“Do I get punished for using it?”
“Never. But expect to have a long and involved discussion about why you used it and how we can avoid you using it again in the future.”
“I want to be your submissive,” she whispered.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “God damn it’s going to be hard to wait until tomorrow night.” He opened his eyes again and looked down at her. “8 o’clock, as usual. Bring an overnight bag, and come prepared to obey.”
“Yes, Sir,” Abby replied as a shiver of anticipation raced down her spine.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
On Friday evening, Abby stood in her bedroom, completely unable to decide what to bring. She settled on wearing green silk blouse and black slacks she already had on and packing a pair of jeans and a red cotton t-shirt for Saturday. He hadn’t told her to bring anything to go out to dinner. She packed her toothbrush, a black, short satin nightgown with lace edging and a pair of sandals. Her thoughts were racing as she drove to his house.
She’d browsed the internet a few times to learn more about BDSM over the last few weeks, but it appeared pointless to investigate. It seemed to run the gamut from just blindfolds to elaborate rope bondage to needles and something called fire play that she didn’t click on but she knew whatever it was, she was totally saying ‘cantelope’ before the Bic got flicked. It was impossible to know what Mark would be into and she didn’t care to see even the occasional photo of whipped, crying women in chains.
He’d said he wasn’t into causing pain and that she could ask questions and that was good enough for her at the moment. She pulled up in front of his house and she’d just stepped onto his lawn when he came out to meet her. He gave her a quick kiss and took her bag from her, shouldering it as he led her into the house. They went straight to the bedroom and he set her bag down on the empty chair.
He kissed her again, this time on the forehead, and squeezed her arms gently. “Are you ready?”
She nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
He turned to the dresser and opened it, turning back, Abby saw he held a black leather strap with silver rings and buckles. Her eyes widened a little.
“This is your play collar,” he informed her. “You won’t ever wear it in public. Only in private. It’s lockable, but I won’t do that. He opened it and showed her the inside. It was smooth and supple. “It’ll be comfortable. If it isn’t, you’ll tell me.”
“Okay.”
“I’m a dominant man by nature, Abby. It isn’t the kind of thing you just turn on and off on a whim. I will tone it down to the best of my ability day-to-day, but when you’re wearing my collar, you are my pet. And you will obey. You don’t need to ask permission to speak, but you will address me as ‘Sir’. You forget sometimes and I let it go. That won’t be happening from now on.”
