Graceful Submission (5 page)

He shifted in his seat again and gave a token clap when the first speaker took the stage. Under the table Giselle’s hand landed on his knee and began inching toward his cock. He put his hand down and grabbed hers, leaning over as if to kiss her ear.

“Don’t.”

“Why?” Giselle pouted. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve jacked you off at one of these boring events. This will make the time fly faster.”

She tried to free her hand and Toffer held it fast.

“I said, don’t.”

“If you’re going to be a stick in the mud, then I’m leaving,” Giselle hissed into his ear. “I want some dick. The only reason I came to this boring thing was the thought of playing with your cock before, during, and after. I expect a good fuck tonight.”

“Sorry, you’ll have to go and find someone else to fuck you.”

Ever the show person, Giselle sat back and smiled at him. Then she whispered an apology to the table, picked up her purse and left.

Peter raised his eyebrows at Toffer, who shrugged his shoulders. It was better this way. If he hadn’t made plans to attend this event with her weeks before, he would have come alone. He wondered if Grace had sent her e-mail describing her orgasm.

Toffer pulled out his cell phone and connected to the Internet. A grin broke out when he saw her name in his inbox. His cock hardened even more as she described how she’d stroked her clit, pinching it gently as she imagined him watching.

“I’m so wet, Master. It’s almost like a river has moved between my thighs. You’ve done that, the thought of you, the idea of submitting to you. I only came once, like you said, and can hardly wait to come again before I go to bed. I can’t wait for tomorrow when my package arrives and we can talk face-to-face, so to speak.”

She ended the e-mail with her phone number and a promise to lick him like a lollipop, and swallow every last drop of his sweet offering. Toffer looked at the list of speakers. His speech would end the evening. He figured he had an hour before he had to take the podium. He memorized the phone number and went to search for a private room.

* * * * *

Grace stretched and reached for the phone. After her second orgasm for the evening, she’d burrowed down into the covers and fallen asleep quickly. A glance at the clock showed that it was after eleven. The ID revealed a number she didn’t recognize and she debated about whether to answer.

On the third ring she clicked the on button and whispered a greeting.

“Grace?”

“Yes?”

“I believe the proper address is yes, Master.”

Grace’s heart beat double time.

“Master?”

“Are you naked, as ordered?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Oh lord, oh lord, oh lord. This wasn’t supposed to happen until tomorrow night. I wasn’t ready for this
.

“I thought you were busy this evening.”

“I am. But I thought I’d take a break. I want to talk to my little lollipop girl. That’s what you said; you’d lick me like a lollipop. Are you wet?”

Grace dipped her fingers between her thighs, although she already knew the answer to the question.

“Yes, Sir.”

She parted her folds and moaned as her fingers found her hardened clit.

“Did I say you could do that yet?”

Grace pulled back her hand. “How did you know … No, Sir. I’m sorry.”

“That’s OK. It’s just more reason for punishment when you get here. You touch yourself when I say so, not before. Do you have any candles? Long, tapered ones?”

“Yes.”

“Go and get one, and hurry.”

Grace ran down the hallway, pulling a long red taper from its holder on the counter and raced back to bed. She couldn’t believe he’d called tonight. It was like a dream come true. His voice was deep and dreamy.

“I’m back, Master.”

“Good. I don’t have a lot of time. Lie on the bed with your legs spread. Then rub the fat end of the candle along your slit. Don’t make contact with your clit.”

Moans filled the room as Grace followed his instructions.

“Does your clit want attention?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Do you remember when I said that punishment doesn’t always involve spanking? Sometimes punishment involves denial. Keep your hands off your clit.”

Grace sighed. Her clit throbbed with need. She grabbed the bed sheet with her fist to keep her hand from drifting to her core.

“Fuck yourself with the candle, Grace. Stick the fat end into your luscious pussy and fuck yourself with it, hard.”

“Master, I can’t …”

She wasn’t ready for this. She needed another night to prepare. Another night to basically “perform” for her Master.

“Now. I don’t have a lot of time and I want to hear you moaning when I come.”

Grace took a calming breath.
Just think of it like a vibrator. Your Master wants this, and you don’t want to disappoint Him
. She moaned loudly when she pushed the candle inside her wetness. It was cold and hard and despite her original misgivings, it felt wonderful. She moved it back and forth slowly.

“Master. Oh, Master.”

“Tell me. Tell me what it feels like.”

“Hard, smooth, oh lord, so very good. Please, Master, let me touch my clit. Let me come.”

“No, not yet. Push it in as far as you can, and then hold it there. Just lie back on the bed when it’s buried deep inside you.”

It was all Grace could do to follow his instructions. She wanted to come, needed to come.

“I’m about to come, Grace. I’m stroking my hard cock, thinking of you licking it like a lollipop. When I’ve come, I’m going to go back to my friends in the main room. Then I’ll think about you, lying in your bed with a candle buried deep in your pussy, buried in you because I want it to be.”

His breathing was more ragged. “You’re on the honor system for this. If you can lie in bed for fifteen minutes, perfectly still, then you can come. If you move an inch, I want you to take the candle out, clean up, and go to sleep. I’ll want a report tomorrow night and I’ll expect you to be totally honest. Do you understand?”

His words were husky, and seconds after Grace said yes, she heard him moan out his orgasm. How she wanted to be there so she could watch, see him in his passion; passion induced because she’d done what he’d asked her to do. The sound of his pleasure almost pushed her over the edge.

She took a deep breath and held it to keep herself from climaxing. She focused her thoughts on lying still, and the thin chain of self-control almost snapped when Master’s deep voice sounded in her ear.

“Fifteen minutes, Grace, starting after you turn off the phone. I’ll talk to you tomorrow night.” Then the line went dead.

Grace turned off the phone and sank into the mattress. She could feel the candle inside her, her folds throbbing around the hard wax. She wanted to move it in and out of her pussy until she came, and she knew she would come hard.

Think about Master. You want to be totally honest tomorrow when you tell him that you did as he said. She started to count seconds in her head, smiling to herself as she imagined Master standing near the bed, watching her fight the urge to complete what he’d started.

She focused her mind on counting seconds the way her mother had taught her. The number followed by the word
Mississippi
. One,
Mississippi
; Two,
Mississippi
. The candle seemed to swell. The throbbing in her clit turned into a full-fledged pulse. Her nipples felt like hard diamonds. She fought the urge to move by focusing her thoughts on Toffer, on what he was doing. He was surrounded by his hotshot Hollywood friends, and he was thinking about her lying in bed with a candle in her pussy.

After a few minutes that image faded and Master stood near the bed, a flogger in his hand. “How many minutes have gone by, Grace?”

“Nine.”

He was gently moving the flogger against his jean-clad legs. “Keep counting. Be a good girl. Count, Grace. There’s another minute gone by. What a very good girl you are. Only six more minutes and you can come. You can come hard.”

His imagined praises strengthened Grace’s resolve and she closed her eyes. Did that count toward movement? She hoped not. Another sixty
Mississippi
’s passed, and then another, and the pulse in her clit turned into a pounding. She wasn’t going to make it. She had to come. Now. Only four more minutes and she felt like she was going to cave.

“I’m so disappointed in you, Grace.”

No. No. I won’t do it. Nine,
Mississippi
. Ten,
Mississippi
.

“That’s it, Grace. Keep counting. Think about how much sweeter your orgasm will be because you waited, because you followed my instructions.”

Grace focused inward. She wouldn’t disappoint him with her failure. She centered her feelings on pleasing Master and continued to count. When fourteen minutes had passed, she smiled and fought the urge to shorten
Mississippi
to miss.

When the final sixty-Mississippi came, Grace arched her hips off the bed, thrust the candle in deeper and came, her fingers pinching her clit as she screamed Toffer’s name. Would he punish her for that? For screaming Toffer instead of Master?

When she finally settled her hips back on the bed, she gently stroked her aching clit and another orgasm rolled through her, this one sharper than the last one as she fucked herself furiously with the candle. When she was done she took several large gulps of air and pulled the tapered wax from her body.

She’d never come so hard, and never twice in a row. Her clit still throbbed as if it was suggesting a third orgasm, and Grace shook her head. It was late, after
midnight
. She needed to clean up and go to sleep. She wondered what Toffer was doing at that moment. Had he forgotten about her lying in bed, following her instructions, or was he checking his watch, fighting the urge to call and see if she’d been successful in following his orders.

Grace padded to the bathroom and laid the candle on the counter. She could see her juices glistening on the wax. The wetness was proof of her ability to follow Master’s instructions. The thought brought a huge smile to her face.

Chapter Five

Note to self: Don’t imagine trouble where there is none. Allow yourself to be happy for a change.

To Do List:

Stop by grocery store for eggs and bread

Review grades

Continue work on novel

Be home by five to sign for package from Master

Don’t open it until he calls!

Grace took a sip of her soft drink and stared at the box on her table. It was hard not to tear into it and see what gifts Master has bestowed on her. But she’d made it through the fifteen minutes last night and she would make it through today.

Even as excitement about the package raced through her mind, she couldn’t help but think about work. Watson had summoned a number of her students to his office in regular intervals during the day. In total, fourteen pupils had been called out. And Grace couldn’t help but notice that all of them were either failing, or on the verge of failure, in her class.

Seven of them had gone from failing to passing with their term papers; four of them were on the edge; and three were so far gone there was no way they could catch up. She wondered what Watson was up to. None of the students had said anything to her when they’d come back in the room, although all of them had appeared nervous.

Finally, when Jessica had come back from the office, Grace had asked her if anything was wrong. Jessica had looked worried, darting her eyes down and shaking her head vigorously. But Grace knew she was lying. Watson was up to something, Grace just didn’t know what it was.

She pushed thoughts of Watson to the back of her mind and stared at the box. Her fingers were itching to open it, see what was inside. She was sure that Master had bought some wicked toys for them to play with, and she wanted to find out exactly what he had in mind.

Before she could give in to temptation, Grace pushed the box away and sat down at the computer. She had two hours before Master called, and she wanted to do more than a little bit of writing before it was time to play.

* * * * *

When the phone rang around seven, Grace picked it up without looking at the ID. Becca’s voice caught her by surprise.

“I debated about whether to call you, but decided that as your friend I didn’t have a choice.”

“That’s an interesting way to begin a conversation.”

“Watson is after your ass.”

Grace laughed. “I think we’ve already established that.”

When Becca didn’t laugh, Grace felt her chest tighten.

“What do you know?”

Becca’s deep breath made Grace even more uneasy.

“A parent of a mutual student called tonight. He wanted to know how long you’ve been taking bribes for grades.”

The living room spun around as Grace sank into a chair.

“What? You have got to be kidding me. No one will believe him.” The phone remained silent and Grace shook her head. “Becca?”

“Sweetie, you know I don’t believe it, but this parent thinks it’s true. Word around the school is that Watson called in students all day to see who knew what. The parent I talked to had a student who failed your class last year, and therefore, didn’t graduate.”

Grace gulped. Dominic Barlow was the only student who’d been forced to graduate at mid-term this year for failing to pass her class last year. And his father was a big-shot businessman around town.

“Becca, tell me exactly what Mr. Barlow said.”

* * * * *

Toffer looked over the array of toys on his bed, checked his watch and smiled. Three more minutes until he talked to Grace. He wanted to call her exactly at eight, let the anticipation build for both of them.

Last night had been fantastic. She had only balked a little at the idea of fucking herself with the candle. And he knew without asking her that she’d waited out the fifteen minutes totally still on her bed before bringing herself to orgasm. And he was sure it had been a whopper. Little Miss Gracie was a born submissive.