Submission Revealed (15 page)

Try as she might to remain serious, a little smile kept trying to peep through. Nothing could bring her down today.

Phillip studied the slave kneeling beside his bed in still-sleepy mock sternness. In truth, he loved the fact that she had made the decision on her own. Almost as much as he loved the fact that she wasn’t going to back away from it. The way her eyes sparkled, he knew her euphoria from last night reigned.

He pulled himself up, leaning against the pillows, teasing her. “I suppose you think I’m still going to take you out for breakfast?”

She cocked her head to look at him and he liked the way the sunlight brought out the red in the strand of hair that fell across her cheek. “You only got two hours’ sleep, so we can go later, although we did talk about trying that new diner in the city, over by Maple Avenue.”

He noted the hopeful tone of her voice. The rest had invigorated him and when his stomach growled, he gave in. “Yes, I suppose we did. Let me take my shower and think about it.”

Phillip threw back the covers and climbed out of bed, her eyes watching his every move. Although not a vain man, he preened in his nudity, since she was such an appreciative audience. Taking his time, he sauntered to the bathroom. At the door, he turned…her eyes had been riveted to his ass. Clearing his throat to move her attention to his face, he smiled. “While I’m showering, why don’t
you
pick out something for
me
to wear?”

As he lathered up and then rinsed, Phillip’s mind turned over the conundrum of owning a slave. On the one hand, he wanted her to make her own decisions and not bother him with details. On the other, he wanted her dependent on him for everything. There was something very empowering about having a person hang on your every word and appreciate every nuance of your physique.

But there was something exhausting in it as well. Yes, he kept in shape, and yes, he loved the way her eyes devoured him. But sooner or later he was going to leave his socks in the living room or forget to put the toilet seat down. And she’d think it cute at first, picking up after him like a good slave should.

And later, when the novelty wore off? What then? The sock smelling up the couch cushion would become an irritant, the forgotten toilet seat a blow to her self-esteem—didn’t he think enough of her to be considerate? In time, the love and devotion she held now would turn to dislike and if he was lucky, boredom instead of hatred.

Slashing at the thought, he slammed open the shower door harder than he intended. The door clanged to the side so hard he had to look twice to be sure he hadn’t broken it. But the noise brought him back to his senses. These were exactly the issues Sarah had brought up Friday night and he had dismissed with his “this is a journey we’ll take together” speech. And it was. He just needed to understand she wasn’t the only one who was struggling to find a balance in the roles. Sarah used her intelligence and he intended to encourage her to use it at every opportunity. Deciding not to go to church today was a decision she had made and he would support. And together, they’d find the equation that would work for them.

* * * * *

Not until later in the afternoon, after they’d returned from their breakfast out and Sarah once more stood naked before her Master did she finally ask the question that had been on her mind all day.

“Phillip…Sir…” Shaking her head, she threw the names aside. “I want to ask about the red, well, pink lines on the tops of my breasts.”

Phillip made himself comfortable on the couch, patting the cushion next to him. Sarah snuggled in, holding one of her breasts up so they could both see the marks she referred to.

“What was it that gave me these?” She knew, or suspected, but wanted confirmation.

“A cane.”

Her eyebrows shot up. She was right!

“A very thin, very short one, made from bamboo, I believe.”

Sarah smiled. “I thought so. I saw some pictures…” She stopped at Phillip’s surprised look.

“So my slave has been looking at dirty pictures on the web, has she?”

Color seeping into her cheeks, Sarah defended her actions. “I’m not sure you’d call them dirty. I just wanted to see…” She faltered. Just what was it she had wanted to see? The pictures of the woman’s caned ass had excited her so much she’d slipped her hand into her jeans and come right there at the computer.

Phillip nodded knowingly. “Yes, slave. I see very well. Someone has discovered that those pictures, while mostly meant for men’s fantasies, can also fuel a woman’s dreams.”

“Oh, they definitely did that, Sir.” She ducked her head in embarrassment.

Phillip pulled her head up. “It’s okay to be excited by those pictures, Sarah. They serve a purpose.” His eyes narrowed a little. “In fact, I think I’ll send you a few from my own collection.”

Now it was Sarah’s turn to feel a little shocked. “Collection? You have an entire collection of those pictures?”

He laughed and she bounced against his chest where she snuggled against him. “I have enough. Where do you think I get some of my best ideas?”

She chuckled. “Well, when you put it like that…” She shifted and found a more comfortable position to cuddle into his arms. Phillip pointed to the stripes on her breast.

“How do they feel?”

She blushed. “Actually, they feel sexy. I mean, when I run my finger over them just the right way, I get…um…aroused.” Not believing she’d just made that admission, she ducked her head again. This certainly was a morning for confessions. Phillip pulled her chin back up.

“Good. If you’d like, you can have more of them.” He traced one of the lines with his finger, leaving his other hand to rest on her bare thigh.

Sarah cocked her head at him. “Did you give me these?”

For answer, he only raised an eyebrow and gave her an I’m-not-telling look. She acquiesced. “Yes, Sir, I know. It doesn’t matter.”

And in truth, it didn’t. In fact, if he hadn’t given them to her, all the better. She was sure it was his chest her head had leaned against, his arms holding her body to the earth so her soul could fly as it had. Nor did she know whose fist had been up her vagina. Just remembering it made her squirm on the couch. Never had she felt quite so physically filled.

“I liked the fisting too.” She squeezed his arm. “It didn’t hurt, like I was afraid it would.”

“So it lived up to your expectations?”

“It did. I was worried I’d built the fantasy up in my head so much that actually doing it would be anticlimactic. But it wasn’t.” Her eyes twinkled. “Not at all.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind someone fisting you again someday.”

Just the word made her shiver and her pussy gape. “I wouldn’t mind at all, Sir.”

“So you’ve discovered a little pain can be arousing and you’ve discovered you like being blindfolded and fondled by several people at once. Being used as their toy.”

Sarah knew her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red. Her voice wasn’t above a whisper. “Yes, Sir.”

Phillip kissed her then, his lips a soft caress against hers. She savored his taste, let herself wallow in the sexual freedom he was letting her experience. She wasn’t naughty, she wasn’t a slut. She was a woman with worth not only in the workplace and at home, but in the bedroom as well. Hot damn! Sarah felt as if she could take on the world today. She relaxed into his kiss, reveling in the power he wielded.

The kiss ended abruptly when Phillip pulled away and stood up. Sarah almost fell over, he had taken her so by surprise. “Come on, then, slave. Let’s put your newfound discoveries to the test, shall we?”

Even though her cheeks still burned, she stood up and put her hand in his outstretched one. The thought of being used again thrilled her. Their talk aroused her but it was his dominance she craved.

Phillip turned her hand over. “You seem to be missing your cuffs, slave.”

“I am, Sir.”

“Wait here.”

He stepped into the bedroom, retuning a moment later with the four strips of leather and their respective locks. Would she ever tire of having him fasten them on her?

The locks on her cuffs jingled as the she crossed the living room to Phillip, making a music of their own. She could have danced to it.

Phillip led her directly into the dungeon, not stopping until they crossed the length of it and stood before a low, rectangular box, currently covered with a blue velvet cloth. With a twist of his hand, Phillip threw back the covering, revealing the small cage underneath. Never letting go of her hand, he unlatched the door at one end, then pulled her down as he gave his instructions. “Back in, slave. I’m going to keep you here while I get some things ready.”

Obediently, Sarah faced away from the cage and backed in. There was just enough room for her to fit on all fours. Phillip reached in and locked her wrists to the corners of the cage, then shut the door and pulled the velvet covering back over the cage. She was enclosed in a world of blue.

Shifting her weight, Sarah made herself as comfortable as she could. He’d only used a quick-release catch to attach the D rings of her cuffs to the wire sides of the cage but they might as well have been welded on for all the good it did her. She remained on all fours, trying not to wiggle too much and show off her impatience. One thing she had learned, the more eager she was for something to happen, the longer Phillip tended to draw it out. Yes, her arousal would increase but at the moment, she was already so aroused she could have fucked a fencepost. She giggled at the thought. What a bad girl she was becoming!

Phillip saw the cage vibrate and heard her little giggle. The little minx was enjoying herself? Not for the first time did he send a prayer heavenward to whatever force had put her in his life. After years of failures, to find someone who shared his interests with a passion to rival his own? Life was very good.

Peeling back the cloth that covered his toy table, as Sarah had taken to calling it, his eye roved over the various implements of sexual torture he kept there. Each one had its own special spot, arranged by type. He knew other Doms who kept everything on a pegboard, each item hanging from its own hook. But he preferred the table with the length of blue cloth that kept the dust off. He liked to keep her guessing about what was underneath. Picking up a slender rod, he held it in both hands, his gaze going from the cage to the cane, wondering if this was what Sarah thought she was ready for.

Well, there was only one way to find out. He knew she would hate him for what he was about to inflict on her but would she find it as arousing as he did? Or would he be destroying the cane tomorrow based on her response to it today?

Uncovering the extra long massage table he’d built, he double-checked the eyebolts and ran a hand over the leather as he did before every session. He considered adding a few straps, then decided against it. Her muscles would need room to react—within limits, of course.

Satisfied that the equipment was safe, he picked up a new gag he’d found and set it at the head of the table, pulled the blue cloth back over the toys behind him and slid the cane under so that just one end peeked out. Only then did he bend down in front of the cage.

“Slave?”

“Yes, Master?” Sarah’s voice, muffled by the velvet, came through low and sexy. Phillip grinned.

“I want to use you, slave.”

“Yes, Master. Please do.”

“I might hurt you, slave.” Phillip knew the cane would sting when he struck her ass, giving her the same marks she currently enjoyed on her breasts.

“Hurt me, Master. Let me feel your touch.”

There was a definite begging tone in her voice that triggered the animal inside Phillip. His cock stirred in response. Flipping the cover back, he looked his fill at the woman locked inside the cage.

A lock of golden brown had fallen from her ponytail, hiding one eye from him. Hunger shone from the other as she rocked back and forth on her hands and knees. A low growl came from the back of her throat. Phillip had locked mild-mannered, almost shy Sarah into the cage—the Master would take out a wild slave, her sex fully awakened and ripe for his cane. His eyes hardened in response and his cock came fully erect, straining against the fabric of his pants. This slave needed attention. She would get more than she bargained for.

Slowly, deliberately, he took his time with the locks, making her wait and increasing her anticipation as well as his own. He didn’t speak to her but kept his eyes locked on hers, letting the hunger build. An extra leash lay beside the cage. He clipped it to her collar and stood, pulling her out roughly. On her hands and knees, she left the cage and followed where he led.

He held dominion over her and gloried in it. She did as she was told, even as the fires consumed her. He could see it in her eyes. If given choices, she would take charge, pushing him onto the floor and mounting him like the wild animal she was.

But he had tamed her, taught her. It had been his touch that even allowed her permission to acknowledge the feral being that lived inside her. She owed him her allegiance, her servitude, her body. Bringing their circuitous route to an end at the table, he reached down and grabbed the leash close to the collar, pulling her up and forcing her onto her feet. Her hands reached for him but he was ready. Turning her to face the table, he pushed her down, grabbing her hands and pulling her along the tabletop until her arms were stretched and she was off balance. In seconds, he fastened first one wrist, then the other. She cried out, not in pain but frustration and his smile was wicked.