Love Bound (32 page)

He gave her a curious look and then
pulled his hands back, "Of course, Pet."

Leaning down, she brought her hands in
front of her to brace her, and dropped her head to place a kiss on top of his
left foot and then his right foot. She sat back up into a kneeling position and
said, "Thank you, Sir. Thank you for taking such good care of me, and
thank you for knowing how far you could take me. Sometimes I wish we could be
like this more, sometimes I miss it when we're done. I know that once I come
back to myself I'll be fine with how things normally are. But for now, I'm sad
that my collar is coming off."

He bent his knees, balancing on his
feet so his face was at her level and said, "I understand, I'm a little
sad it's coming off too, but I'm also glad that within a few hours I'll have my
wife back. I love our time like this, but I love the other side of you even
more. If you want to do this more often, without the time in front for sleeping
and cleansing, we can negotiate that. Maybe something like the third weekend of
every even month? Something that wouldn't include any holidays and could be
negotiated before or after if a birthday or other occasion came up? Keep in
mind that it's a possibility, and if you still want to do it in a few days then
let me know. Deal?"

She smiled, "Deal, Sir. Thank
you."

He reached for her collar and fiddled
with it a bit then pulled it away from her neck. She reached up, feeling of her
skin, and then stood to get a hug from him. When she knew the hug should be
over she pecked him on the cheek and gave a quick, "I love you", then
forced herself to turn and walk away from him. She walked up the steps while he
stayed behind to clean up and put things away. After going to their bedroom to
use the restroom and put pajamas on she went into the kitchen and sat at the
table. Two peanut butter and peach preserve sandwiches were already made, just
like she liked them. She fixed a glass of ice water and then sat and pulled the
sandwiches out of the plastic bags. She was on the second sandwich when he came
into the kitchen and pulled some spicy hummus out of the refrigerator and
handed her a bag of chips. They didn't talk, he let her have time to process
everything and come back to herself in her own time.

She ate and took a shower, knowing
that she'd have an opportunity for sex however she wanted it at some point in
the next couple of days. She wasn't sure if she wanted it now, or later when
she wasn't so sore. He always gave her one sex session where she got her way,
though of course she couldn't cause pain to him, that wasn't what it was about.
It was about her being able to demand oral sex, able to tell him where to put
his tongue and him actually do it. Able to tell him when she wanted actual
penetration or just playing with her clit. She'd get to decide when she wanted
to get fucked, whether it was hard or not, when to go slow, when to speed up.
It wasn't something she'd enjoy on a regular basis, but it was a wonderful way
to get her back into a normal headspace, and it was nice to be able to tell him
what she wanted once in a while and have him comply. She decided a nap after
her shower would be good, and maybe she would wait until tomorrow evening for
her turn to call the shots.

* * * *

When it was time to return to work Victoria walked in fully rested and recharged, but many of her coworkers didn't seem to
have fully recovered from their grueling week. She didn't tell them the secret,
that you just needed to let the love of your life totally control you for a few
days, take all of the weight of the world away from you and allow you to heal
and recover physically, mentally, and emotionally. She had a few bruises on her
ass, but they weren't that bad, and she would miss them when they were gone.
She and Gordon had decided on a schedule that would put her in his hands, as
his Pet, from Friday evening until noon Sunday about once every two months. If
she had a work retreat near one of those times then it would be her decision,
not his, whether the retreat recovery would replace the negotiated weekend.

Walking into the door at home after
work she smelled something spicy and headed to the kitchen to see what he was
cooking. "Oh good, you're home. The lasagna should come out of the oven in
about fifteen minutes, let me get the bread into the oven and then I'd like a
quick fuck while it finishes up. You might want to go take your clothes off and
put them away while I finish with the bread. Hurry back, please.”

She walked to him, "A kiss,
first."

He smiled and gave her a kiss, taking
his time with it, taking control of her with the kiss.

She changed clothes and came back to
him, bending herself over the table without being told. He'd asked for her to
come back here, and that probably meant a fuck with her bent over the table. He
walked behind her and put a finger into her, "Nice and wet. Perfect."

She felt him move his body behind her,
felt his cock entering her, and groaned in pleasure at the feeling. He went in
and held a moment, his hands on her hips, holding her in place. He gave a few
short strokes, waited for her to move with him and give the sound that let him
know she was ready, and then he let go, pounding her. Taking her. He hadn't
been kidding about it being a quick fuck — it was over in about three minutes,
but he made sure she came before he did, and he was thoughtful enough to come
on her back instead of inside of her. He knew she hated to walk around with
come dripping out of her, and he was usually considerate of that for their
mid-day quickies. He used a wet paper towel to clean the come off of her back
and then helped her stand, giving her another kiss and saying, "Thank you,
that was just what I needed. Can you get the drinks while I pull everything out
of the oven?"

She put a robe on and then got the
silverware and napkins, opened a bottle of wine and poured some into two wine
glasses. He placed a plate of steaming lasagna in front of her as she was
sitting down, all sated from her orgasm. Did it get any better than this?

About Candace Blevins

Candace
Blevins is a southern girl who loves to travel the world. She lives with her
husband of 12 years, their two daughters, and Bandy the Wonder Dog. When not
working or driving kids all over the place she can be found reading, writing,
meditating, or swimming. Her favorite place in the world is home, second
favorite place is Guilin, China. Candace speaks enough Chinese to manage okay
in an airport, check into a hotel, order food in a restaurant, and shop. You
can visit Candace at candaceblevins.com.

Mistress Audrey

By Giselle Renarde

I was just about to fold the laundry
when there came a tap at the door. Who do you think was standing on the other
side when I looked through the peephole?
That’s right
. It was Lawrence.
Why would he knock? He had a key!
Worse than that, he was four hours
early. I scrambled to straighten up the place, but it was no use. I’d planned
on greeting him in fishnets and the leather bustier I’d just bought, but,
calisse
,
no time for that now. And yes, I had far too much lingerie as it was, but the
little black corset had been marked down to ten dollars. How could I resist?

“I wasn’t expecting you until seven
thirty,” I said, after unlocking the security latches and swinging open the
front door. Something was wrong. I could tell by the bleak look on his face. He
seemed older, somehow. Defeat resounded in his voice as he informed me he
couldn’t stay.

“Excuse me?” I scathed. My tone was so
frosty I could almost see little comic book icicles hanging off my words. It
was Veronica’s response when Archie breaks a date and she just knows he’ll be
going out with Betty instead.

“Ruth decided to stay home from the
conference after all.”

Those words landed like a kick in the
gut. Teetering over rage on one side and despondence on the other, I tried not
to shout or whine. “But we were supposed to spend the whole weekend together…”

Saying the words destabilized me,
tossing me clear off the tightrope. I couldn’t believe how enraged I was with Lawrence over something beyond his control. After all, it wasn’t his fault his wife
planned to be away that weekend, then decided to stay home at the last minute.
And who was
I
to feel angry towards Ruth? Wasn’t she the real victim in
all this? But
merde
, this sort of thing happened every time we planned
to be together.
Every fucking time!
I couldn’t get over it.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Lawrence mumbled,
his gaze tracing the up-and-down, back-and-forth pattern of my parquet floors.
He knew I was pissed. That’s why he wouldn’t look at me, like if he didn’t look
at me I wouldn’t yell.

“
Tabernac!
We’ve been planning
this for weeks, Lawrence. There are other things I could have been doing today,
you know. I cancelled dinner with my brother and Susan to spend time with you.”

“How is your brother?”

“Don’t make small talk!” I fumed. I
hated small talk. It was Lawrence’s method of getting me off-track. “We finally
arrange a weekend together and you have to go and fuck it up. Every time, Lawrence! Do you remember what happened last time? You promised we would finally get to
spend a whole night in the same bed. Do you remember what you did?”

Lawrence
wasn’t looking at me. He was gazing
at the basket of laundry in the middle of my living room. “I fell down the
stairs,” he responded.

“You fell and split your head open and
had to go to the fucking emergency room to get stitches. You drive me nuts,
Lawrence. It’s self-sabotage! We’re never going to spend a whole night together,
are we?”

“We will, just not this weekend,” he
assured me. Of course, I didn’t believe him for a second. How could I?

My blood boiled over and became spite
when it hit the air.
Why did I have to feel so angry?
So I couldn’t have
what I wanted right away. Why couldn’t I just let it go? And then an unwelcome
thought occurred to me. “Ruth didn’t really stay home from her conference, did
she? You met somebody else…”

He looked somewhat disgusted as he
cried, “No!”

“…and you’d rather spend the weekend
with her than with me.”

“No! Audrey, listen to me,” he
replied, kicking off his shoes and shuffling me over to the couch strewn with
laundry. “I would never do that to you. I love you. I’m here right now because
I love you and I wanted to tell you in person that I can’t stay.”

Can’t stay?
Because he had to meet up with his
new whore, perhaps? No, Lawrence would never do that to me. He wouldn’t. Although,
Ruth probably thought the same thing and I knew for a fact he was cheating on
her. I knew because he was cheating with me. And, ultimately, whether he was
leaving my apartment to see some new chick or to go home to his wife, it all
boiled down to the same sediment. Somebody else was more important than me. Somebody
else was
always
more important than me.

From the clean laundry I’d planned on
folding, I plucked a burgundy knee-sock. “You’re not going anywhere,” I said
flatly. Pulling Lawrence’s Stratford Festival T-shirt over his head, I tied his
wrists together in front of his body.

Lawrence
laughed nervously as I unbuckled his
belt, unzipped his fly and let his Dockers fall to the floor. “I don’t really
have time to make love today. I have to get home.”

My teeth clenched. My heart turned to
ice. Those words,
make love
, grated on my nerves. Did Lawrence ever make
love to me, or was it all just good old fucking? He was supposed to spend the
weekend with me, and now he didn’t even have five minutes for a quickie?

“You think I want to
make love
with you,
putain de
chien
?” I spat at my prisoner.

Confused as a kicked puppy, Lawrence retreated into himself. “Why would you call me that?”

“You
don’t even know what it means!”

“I know it’s something bad.”

“You are such a
maudit
liar!
You lie to your w—” Never could say that word, the w-word. “…to
her
about me, now you’re lying to me about this,” I said, pulling his black Jockeys
to his ankles.
The calm before the storm…

“I’m
not lying,” he pleaded.

I believed him, but I needed some
reason for my rage. How could I admit to being mad at Lawrence because he was
married? I knew that from the moment we met, and I practically forced him into
this arrangement. Well, yes, he wanted it too, but it took some convincing at
first.

“Shut up!” I roared, forcing him down
on the couch with his knees on the seat cushions and chest against the sofa
back. Heading into my bedroom, I added, “A man who’s already cheating on his
wife has zero credibility in the trust department.”

Stripping off my jogging pants and
mint green sweater, I slipped into my thigh-high fishnets and black thong. I
dressed up more for myself than for Lawrence, though I imagine he enjoyed it
too.

“That’s different,” he implored from
the next room. “There’s nobody else. There’s never been anyone but you.”