Of Being Yours[another way 2] (8 page)

Unlike when we were in the playroom, when he demanded my compliance and submissiveness to him, in the bedroom we were more balanced. Sure, I bottomed the large majority of the time, but as I had learned, bottoming and submissiveness were not synonyms. It was with this in mind that I backed us up toward the bed, then turned and sat first so I was face-to-face, so to speak, with his waist.

Will smirked down at me and ran his fingers through my hair again, rubbing my cheek with his thumb. I concentrated on my task of kissing his bare stomach, which was gently muscled from years of workouts keeping it that way, and pushed his pants down off his hips an inch at a time.

He kicked off the last of his clothes, but before I had the chance to close my mouth around the head of his cock, he pushed me back and straddled me on the bed, holding my hands above my head and grinding down on me. My jeans must have been a harsh friction because he pulled back and stripped them from me, leaving us both naked and hard. Wanting. I always wanted him.

I waited for his next instruction, but he just looked at me for a moment with a funny expression on his face. I reached up and took his hand and pressed it down in the center of my chest. He smiled, leaning in to give me another kiss that ended with him biting down on my bottom lip.

A light slap on my thigh was another silent instruction, this time to move. For some reason I was floating along the edge of my subspace, not quite getting as far into the mind-set as I usually did, but close. Closer than usual.

With my legs spread, my arms stretched out in front of me, and ass raised for his touch, I relaxed a little further into the natural feeling of being his. Will positioned himself on the bed behind me, and I felt his lips at the base of my spine, kissing down until he reached the crease of my ass. Then his hands spread my cheeks, opening me to his touch, and his lips worked down farther still.

His lips only fluttered over my asshole, the briefest of kisses, before he drew back and reached for the lube I kept in my nightstand. I waited, perfectly still, as he flipped the cap open and poured a little on his fingers, then gently traced the same pattern over my hole.

I didn’t whimper when he pushed his fingers in, but my breath did catch on an inhalation, and that was enough to earn me a sharp, reprimanding spank. I knew him well enough to pick up on his game, and if he wanted me silent, then I could do that. I could try.

Will stretched me gently and made sure my body had time to adapt before he withdrew his fingers and slapped my thigh, a very obvious suggestion that I should flip over. When I was on my back, I smiled slowly and reached for him. Will moved so he was once again between my thighs and started to carefully push his cock inside me. I found myself concentrating on the rhythmic, hypnotic feel of air being sucked into my lungs then expelled again, deep breaths that relaxed both my body and my mind.

Then he was all the way there, right where I needed him.

The sounds of our bodies moving together seemed to be heightened when we were both making so much effort to be quiet, and it was only then that I really realized how loud I could be when we had sex. I couldn’t stop the gasps for breath or the sound of my own heavy breathing, but I was hyperaware of Will’s movements around and over and inside me as I focused more intently on them.

Will brushed my cheek with his hand, and I opened my eyes to watch him watching me intently. I wanted to ask him why, what on earth was making him look at me like that, but that was against the rules. Aware that he’d stopped moving and was holding himself above me, smiling for some unknown reason, I tried to figure out what it was that he wanted or needed from me.

I wanted to ask him for permission to come, to beg for it, since this felt like a session, but it felt more important to come silently, so I pressed my lips to his throat, already begging for forgiveness. I dug my fingers into the fleshy part of his ass and hung on for dear life as his thrusts shortened, and with one violent throb against my prostate, we came together.

I could feel the rushing of his blood through his carotid artery when I pressed my lips to his throat, and I struggled not to moan or whimper now as much as ever as he gently pulled his dick from my abused ass and reached over for his boxers. He used the soft fabric to gently clean me off, then wiped his own dick before tossing the now ruined shorts in our laundry hamper.

Then he rolled onto his side, pulled my arm around him, and fell like a stone into sleep.

T
HE
next morning I woke to his lips on my neck and his fingers in my hair, gently coaxing me out of the cocoon of sleep. He still didn’t speak as he showered and dressed; nor did I, determined not to lose this unspoken game.

Will was smiling, almost smirking, as he held out my travel mug of coffee when I rushed down the stairs, late, as always. I took it from him and leaned in for a kiss. He caught my cheek and my attentions as he kissed me, intimately, knowingly.

I nudged his nose with mine before we broke away, inhaled the smell of him to carry with me, and left.

Silently.

A
S
THE
seasons started to change and the rain settled into a more constant, cold presence, our lives relaxed into a routine. I’d always chastised Adele for not wanting more from her personal life or her career, but while I pushed in one area of my life, it was good to have stability in the other.

Working at the museum was a constant challenge and one that I thrived on. And Will was just Will, letting me vent at him when things were hard, usually while I violently chopped something for dinner. I couldn’t imagine having upheaval at home while I tried to navigate new ground at work.

It had taken me a few months to set up my office how I wanted it, and I was one of the lucky ones with my desk assignment. While most people shared with two or three other people, I was in a two-person office with one of the girls who only worked part-time.

Although I was mostly left to manage my own workload, when my cell rang, I generally shut the door for a moment of privacy, especially when Will was calling.

“Hey,” I said as I answered his call, pushing my chair back to slide over to the door and push it closed.

“Hey, Jesse,” he said, and I could tell from the background noise that he was on the move somewhere. “How big is your cock?”

“What?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know.” He shouted something at someone, and I guessed he was crossing the street.

“I haven’t measured it since I was a teenager,” I told him. “And you’re probably just as well acquainted with my cock as I am.”

“Not soft,” he argued.

“You want to know how big my cock is soft?” I repeated.

“Yeah.”

“I have no idea,” I said, laughing now.

“Well, whip it out. You have a ruler on your desk.”

“No chance,” I said.

He sighed heavily. “Okay. See you at home.”

I didn’t bother trying to figure out what he was up to, because he was clearly up to something, and it would just mess with my head if I got too involved with it. I trusted him not to do anything
too
outrageous. But if Will was feeling cheeky, then I was definitely in trouble.

Fortunately for me, I had plenty to keep me occupied for the rest of the afternoon, so I couldn’t spend too long lingering on thoughts of what he might have in store for me. Will’s car wasn’t outside the house when I arrived even though I was running a little late, so I took the time to have a shower before starting dinner, since there was no need to rush.

“Honey, I’m home!” he yelled and slammed the door behind him just after I’d set the rice to boil.

“I’m in here, slaving over a hot stove for you,” I called back.

He was laughing when he came through the door, and he gave me a quick kiss, hiding something behind his back. I didn’t ask, and he went to change before dinner.

We’d developed a way of communicating as Master and submissive that didn’t require us going up to the playroom or having to sit down across the table formally like we had when we’d negotiated my “contract,” which was the terms we both abided by when we played. At first I’d found it hard to settle into a respectful submissive tone and mind-set unless we were in one of those formal situations.

After a while Will had noticed that when he played with my collar, even in public, it made me more aware of it, and I naturally found myself submitting to him. When he pulled it tight, the threads biting into my skin, I used that edge of pain and let him be my Master.

“I bought you something today,” Will said as we lingered at the dining table after we’d finished eating, his fingers tight around my wrist.

“I guessed as much,” I said.

“Spanking for that later,” he told me lightly. “Watch your tone.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“How do you feel about a cock cage?”

“A cock… cage?” I repeated. “What’s that?”

“It’s a chastity device,” he said, his voice amused with a touch of evil. “It’ll mean you can’t get hard.”

“What happens if I try to get hard?”

He ran the fingers of his free hand gently through my hair. “You can’t, baby. It’ll be uncomfortable, maybe a little painful, but it won’t do you any permanent or long-term damage.”

There were rarely any outright “no” responses in our relationship other than those in my Red zone, and he would never ask me to do anything that I wasn’t capable of. I knew that, but still, the thought of putting my cock in a
cage
…. I was still a man. And generally speaking, the thought of putting that part of my anatomy in a cage was slightly terrifying.

“Can I see it?” I asked.

Will tilted my chin and kissed me, his fingers gently angling my face to how he wanted me. He stood and went to the hall for a moment, then came back with a paper bag. Handing it to me, he sat back and let me open it myself.

In reality, I couldn’t quite decide whether or not I was intimidated by the chastity device. It was just clear plastic with a few ventilation strips along the clearly flaccid penis-shaped shaft. There was what I recognized as a cock ring at the back and a space for where he could, if he wanted, contain the whole thing with a padlock.

Scratch that earlier thought. I was definitely intimidated.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said as I turned it over and over in my hands.

“What would you want to do with it?” I asked.

Will shrugged. “It’s up to you,” he said. “I’m obviously not going to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.”

“Okay,” I said. “But give me some ideas.”

He ran his fingers through his hair roughly, then let his elbows fall back down to the table with a thunk. “To be honest, I was waiting for your reaction before I made any plans. You could wear it for a couple of hours now just to get used to it if you like.”

“Have you ever worn one before?”

I set it back down on the table, an equal distance between us.

“No,” he said lightly. “But I’ve done some research online, message boards and that sort of thing. It shouldn’t hurt you. It’s uncomfortable, and if you are aroused, it causes a feeling more like pressure than pain.”

“Is this about humiliation?” I asked. “Because I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about that.”

“It’s about control,” he said. “And submission. And giving me your body and control over it in an entirely different way.”

I turned the idea over in my mind. “I’m not saying no,” I said eventually. “Just not right now.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe bring it out when we’re in a session. I’ll have a better idea about it then.”

“Okay. Jesse?”

“Yeah?”

He laughed. “Don’t freak out. Your limits are always the ones we play by, you know that.” His smile turned slightly evil. “Do you want to try it on now?”

“No thank you,” I said quickly.

He laughed again.

When I kissed him, his lips were incredibly soft.

“Are you sure? I’ll take it off straight away if you don’t like it.”

It was a gentle reminder that I could trust him, absolutely, and that he never pushed me to do something that was beyond my capabilities.

“I’m a bit worried that I’ll start getting hard as soon as you touch me,” I admitted.

He was smirking as he licked his lips; it looked like an unconscious gesture, but I knew better. Nothing was ever unplanned with this man.

“Stand up,” he said.

I stood.

He pulled me to him by my belt loops, and he unbuckled and unzipped me with an almost clinical detachment. My jeans and boxers were pushed down under the curve of my ass while he looked at me, daring me to fight him. The rush of cool air around my cock was enough to dampen the immediate excitement.

While I was still working out whether I was okay with all of this, his hands quickly enclosed the circular part around my balls and maneuvered my flaccid cock into the clear plastic. It clipped on cleanly, trapping me, and he hesitated for just a moment before containing the entire device with the padlock.

“What if I need to pee?” I asked lamely.

His smirk turned wicked and he tapped the end of the plastic where there was a small hole. Small, but still big enough to pee through.

As he pulled my boxers back up and refastened my jeans, I wondered what the hell I’d gotten myself into.

I later found out that the key to the padlock stayed on the kitchen table the entire time I was wearing the cage, meaning I was perfectly able to get myself out of it at any time if I needed to. I couldn’t help but wonder what this was leading up to, and my mind naturally drifted to all sorts of scenarios. Would I, in time, be able to let him fuck me while I was caged? Could I give him my body to use for his pleasure only, completely denying my own?

It was, like so many things, something that we could consider further down the line. There wasn’t any immediate need for us to do everything at once. In fact, I found both peace and happiness in knowing that we didn’t need to rush into doing things that appealed to us both—he was my partner for the long term. We had all the time in the world for these things.