vocal, rotating my pelvis in a delirium of lust.
As he pushed a second finger up, he put his mouth to my ear. ‘You know this is for your own good, don’t you?’ he said.
I had to take it and I had to give in to an epic climax that burst behind my eyes like stars. When I gave him my orgasm, I gave him all of myself. I was his slave, and not because he had caged me, but because he could make me feel like this, whenever he wanted to.
He gripped my shoulder with his other hand and poured himself into me, hissing victoriously until he was drained.
The cushions would be ruined, but it didn’t seem to matter.
We lay together, banked in velvet and silk, looking up at the barred roof.
‘What if this was real?’ he said.
‘I thought it was.’
‘What if I kept you in here and never let you out?’
‘Would you want to do that?’
‘Would it even be possible?’
‘I think I’d quite like it. As long as you let me out to shower and stuff like that. There’s the TV over there, I could have some music, some books. It’s pretty comfortable.’
‘You’d be waiting here, while I was at work, thinking of me.’
‘I’d always be thinking of you. The cage would do that for me.’
‘Waiting for me to get home. Mmm.’
He shut his eyes, reaching out for me, rolling me against him.
‘I like the idea of it,’ I said. ‘I like the idea of being your on-call pleasure slave.’
‘So do I. Well, let’s see if we can make some time to do something like that then. Let’s synchronise diaries.’
I laughed. ‘Block in some face time.’
‘Slave time.’
‘Yes, that would be good. It would be for my own good.’
‘Who’s a good girl?’ Mark teased in a singsong voice as he ruffled my hair and plopped a pair of puppy ears on the crown of my head.
I dared to glare over at him as he adjusted the headband so the ears sat evenly. I wasn’t exactly thrilled by the night’s activities he had planned for us, but it was his birthday so I was feeling a bit generous. ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this.’
Mark smiled down at me and lovingly stroked my cheek. ‘You’re doing this because you love me and because I’m your master. You want to please your master, don’t you?’
My belly wobbled as he spoke to me in that firm, low voice of his that I loved so much. My need to submit, to find pleasure in serving him, trumped my embarrassment at wearing this ridiculous puppy outfit. I wasn’t quite sure where my desperate need to serve and submit originated. I just knew that the first moment Mark had spoken to me at a friend’s cocktail party, I’d been immediately enthralled. He’d slowly and carefully introduced me to the world of dominance and submission and exposed me to a lifestyle I’d always secretly craved. It was no coincidence that my bedroom bookshelves were packed with BDSM-themed erotica. It had simply taken Mark to help me take that interest from the realm of imagination to reality.
We maintained a delicate balance in our relationship. Although we enjoyed our fair share of domestic discipline and were flirting with total power exchange, we lived the unremarkable life of any modern couple. Outside the house and these types of play parties, we existed as two fully independent and successful people. Mark wasn’t the least bit intimidated by my earning power either. As a lead research and development scientist at a growing biotech company, I easily trumped his take-home pay as a detective. In a way, the roles we assumed in the bedroom were the complete opposite of the ones we played out in society. I rather liked it that way.
‘Here,’ Mark said and picked up the mittens from the centre console of his SUV. ‘Give me your hands.’
I reluctantly stuck them out and allowed him to slide the silly-looking leather mittens over my hands. As he fastened them at my wrists, I studied my new paws. They looked similar to the leather bootees on my feet and were both functional and decorative. Apparently they were supposed to protect and cushion my hands while I crawled around on all floors and pretended to be a good puppy. Mark had even gone so far as to buy me a pair of kneepads from the fetish-wear shop where he’d picked up the rest of my outfit. I hadn’t been surprised by the thoughtful addition. Mark loved to whip my ass until it was striped (just the way I liked it!) but he wasn’t cruel. He’d happily dole out all the pain and discomfort I craved but never force me to endure something I didn’t need or want.
Mark unsnapped my seatbelt and patted my knees. ‘Get up and kneel on the seat. Show me your ass.’
A trill of excitement rippled through me. I did as instructed, putting my hands – paws – on the back of the seat. Back angled just so, I presented my ass to him. He caressed my lower back and smoothed his palm over the leather undies hugging my backside. ‘Open your legs,’ he urged and nipped at my earlobe.
His fingers dipped under the crotch of the panties, and he quickly found my clit. I gasped at the sudden invasion of his rough fingertips on my tender skin. He cupped my neck with one hand and stimulated me with the other, his fingertips drawing lazy circles around my clit. The tiny pearl swelled with arousal and made my toes curl. He pressed his lips to my ear and whispered filthy promises of what would come after the party. My pussy ached with need and became so wet. His fingers swirled in the slick nectar seeping from my core. He penetrated me slowly and got me so close to coming that I was slapping at the seat and begging him for more.
When he suddenly pulled away and denied me the release I so desperately wanted, I cried out with a strangled ‘No!’
Mark swatted my backside and tugged on my ponytail. ‘Who owns this pussy?’
‘You do, Master,’ I replied, fully contrite. ‘This is your pussy.’
‘Good girl,’ he whispered and kissed my cheek. ‘And who decides when his little slave comes?’
‘Master decides.’
‘Exactly.’ He caressed my bottom and gave it a playful pat. ‘Now hold still while I put in your tail.’
I stifled a groan of frustration. I really, really didn’t want to wear that thing. He opened the small bag on the centre console and produced the tail and a tube of lubricant. I understood now why he’d gotten me so hot with his fingers. I wasn’t like some of the other submissives who ran in our circles. Taking a plug or having anal sex wasn’t simply something I could do on command. I needed to be aroused and excited first. Like a good dominant, he made sure my needs were seen to before attempting anything to do with my backdoor.
I moaned as his fingers found the small slit in the back of my leather undies. His wet fingertips traced the pucker hidden there and probed me. I exhaled slowly as his fingers slid inside me, lubing my back passage in preparation for the plug decorated with a puppy dog’s tail. I consciously relaxed and pressed back against the silicone plug. It was a bit larger than I was used to, especially for extended wear, but I was determined to work with it.
Mark’s other hand slipped inside my undies again. I groaned with pleasure as he strummed my clit and slowly and torturously thrust the tail plug inside my ass. I whimpered as his teeth grazed my shoulder. His fingers moved faster, pushing me closer and closer to an orgasm. I couldn’t fight the mounting surge. There would be no holding out and enjoying the gradual build of climax on this one. I howled into the headrest as bliss exploded in my belly and spread