[Recap: Anya wants to learn how to top Jen so with Henry’s help they’ve concocted Mistress X, an online domme profile. Jen needs to complete a series of increasingly erotic challenges to prove she wants Mistress X to control her. You can read ‘The Monogamists’ for the backstory if you want to find out how Henry, Jen and Anya met.]
I was standing in the kitchen wrapped in just a towel when Anya found me. In the background, I could hear the shower going as Jen freshened herself up.
“Good run?” she asked.
“Just to the park and back.”
“It’s not about winning. It’s not a race.”
“So, Jen did.”
I made a face. Anya’s smile broadened.
“It’s always a race with Jen, right?” she said.
“She’s got a lot of energy to burn off,” I countered.
“Unlike you, after last night. Feeling better?”
I leaned against the kitchen table, taking a sip of tea.
“About a thousand percent,” I replied.
“It was pretty hot. You’re quite inventive when you’re motivated.”
I didn’t reply. The sound of the water running in the bathroom hissed in the background. I gave Anya a long look.
“You’ve no idea what this is doing to me,” I admitted at last.
“I think I do. I’m getting a first-hand lesson in the workings of the male anatomy. It must be hell to be so, uh, beholden to such a small bit of flesh.”
Anya grinned cheekily, her arms clasped behind her back in a way that made her chest stand out.
“Small?” I retorted.
She shrugged. “I dunno. Not my expert subject area. It’s been a long time since I’ve dealt with male genitalia.”
“What’s behind your back?” I asked, switching subjects.
“Oh, you mean this?” Anya replied, casually revealing a white parcel in her fingers. “Seems our darling submissive got a present from her Mistress.”
“Anya,” I began, “What have you done?”
In reply, Anya stepped up to me and kissed me on the cheek, pressing the little package into my hands.
“Just tell Jen she’s got a delivery. Oh, and don’t be late for the barbeque. Jen’s got the shopping list.”
With that Anya turned and headed out of the kitchen. A moment later I heard the front door open and close, leaving me clutching the parcel she’d given me. All I had planned today was the family barbeque at Anya’s parents’ house; Anya, it seemed, had much more planned and she had left me entirely in the dark. The sound of running water stopped, plunging the apartment into silence.
I heard the bathroom door open as I pulled on my t-shirt and zipped up my jeans. Jen drifted into the bedroom, towel wrapped around her breasts and another towel twisted up on top of her head, wrapping up her long dirty blonde hair. She smiled at me and opened up her side of the wardrobe, running her fingers through the dresses hanging there. Even though it was my bedroom, Jen had graciously allowed me a little hanging space in my own wardrobe for my stuff, plus a maximum of two shelves and an underwear drawer. She selected a green summer dress and tugged the towel open, letting it fall to the floor to reveal her toned body.
Turning to me, she held the dress up against her naked figure. “You like?”
She smiled invitingly at me, her cheeks dimpling.
“I like,” I confessed, stepping close to her. I wrapped my arms around her, pressing the cotton dress against her skin as I pulled her towards me. “I love.”
Jen kissed me. I relished the feeling of her soft lips against mine, before she broke off.
“I meant, is it appropriate for the family gathering?” she asked.
“Just fine? I want to make a good impression.”
“You worried what Mama’s gonna say?”
“I don’t want to get on the wrong side of the Mafia.”
I laughed. It was something we only dared to share between the two of us, referring to Anya’s family like that.
“You can’t call them that,” I chided, “The Mafia are Italian. Besides, I don’t think Mama minds that she’s picked up another daughter as well as a son.”
Jen kissed me again, her arms tight around me. I could feel her body heat through my t-shirt.
“Just so long as I don’t screw up the steaks,” I said, “Otherwise I think Moran’s gonna disown me.”
“Under pressure,” Jen purred. “Nice to see my tormentor having the tables turned on him.”
“Talking of which,” I replied, breaking free from Jen’s arms.
I went over to my bedside table and retrieved the little white package. Jen’s expression changed immediately, eyes widening. I had no idea what Anya had planned, but I assumed that Mistress X had already been in contact with Jen. Knowing Anya, there would already have been detailed instructions. I held the package out.
“Delivery,” I said.
Jen folded the dress over her arm, standing naked as she took the item from me. I said nothing as I watched her turn it over in her hands.
Jen looked up at me nervously, hesitating. Whatever commands she’d been given by Anya through her fantasy Mistress, it was enough to make her pause.
“Open bahis siteleri it,” I repeated, more firmly this time.
She tore the flap and shook the parcel. A little box dropped out into her hand. Jen’s fingers made short work of opening it, drawing out a shiny, bulbous metal object. Jen weighed it in the palm of her hand.
“Oh my god,” she breathed.
She shook the parcel again and a tube dropped out. Jen let the wrapping fall to the floor, standing transfixed with an item in each hand.
“Looks like a fun day ahead,” I ventured.
Jen looked from one hand to the other. She was holding a butt plug and a tube of lubricant. Her lovely hazel eyes came up to mine and she straightened her shoulders. Her demeanour changed.
“I would like to request that I’m fitted with this immediately,” she intoned.
In response, I became serious. I could guess what Anya had in mind: our partner having to make polite conversation with Anya’s relatives for the entire afternoon, filled behind with an unyielding steel plug. I was sure Anya would be doing her best to make Jen squirm all day. The poor woman would be beside herself with need by tonight.
“Yes, you should be plugged before we go out. Kneel on the bed.”
I felt myself begin to react to the idea of Jen requesting me to slide the butt plug into her. I could imagine how Anya would have smiled to herself as she’d set all this up: the idea of her partners engaging in this act at her instigation.
Jen climbed onto the bed on all fours, crouching with her bottom up in the air. I tapped the inside of a thigh casually and she spread herself wider. There was no hesitation or resistance from Jen, just an acceptance that she was about to be plugged. It left me with questions.
“Ever had one of these before?”
“Do you know what to expect?”
I took the lube and the plug, inspecting the cool, shiny object in my hand. It was shaped like a teardrop, not large but big enough to fill her when it went in. It tapered down to a neck and then flared out again into a round disc that was studded with a pink cut-glass gemstone for decoration. I could already imagine how that gem would look, glinting between her cheeks in place of her puckered opening.
“Do you want me to do this?”
“I was told to ask you to insert the plug into me.”
I unscrewed the cap of the lube and squirted some of the clear liquid out onto my fingers. After a moment’s hesitation, I touched her puckered entrance. Jen’s buttocks contracted instinctively, squeezing my fingers.
“That wasn’t what I asked,” I replied, beginning to tease the lubricant around her rear opening. “Do you, Jen, want me, Henry, to insert this plug into you? Or are you just doing what Mistress X has told you to?”
In answer, Jen pushed back against my fingers, taking me by surprise.
“I, Jen, do solemnly swear I want you, Henry, to insert that butt plug into me,” she replied, formally.
My fingers paused.
“Really,” Jen said, softer this time, “I want it. I want to know how it feels.”
I touched the tip of the metal plug to her rear opening. Jen’s puckered entrance clenched reflexively at the touch of the cold, hard steel to her virgin orifice.
“Try to relax,” I said.
We were in the tinned goods aisle of the supermarket, looking for olive oil. Jen’s hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, as she bent over in her green summer dress to one of the lower shelves. The hem of the dress stopped mid-thigh, allowing me a view of her long, toned legs. Even in flat shoes, I could admire the elegant curve of her calves, drawing my eye up the smooth golden skin of her stunning legs to where the green dress just hid the tops of her thighs.
“We’d better get the large one,” Jen remarked. “Can you lift it into the trolley for me? I’ll get the rice.”
I crouched down without thinking, tugging the heavy can off the bottom shelf.
“Brown or white?” Jen called from behind me.
“No, look. Which do you like?”
Still crouched, I turned to see Jen against the shelves on the opposite side of the aisle. Her eyes met mine and she began to bend from her waist down to the sacks of rice, her legs apart, her hands tracing down her legs. I watched as she dipped down, straight-legged, forcing the hem of her dress to ride up her thighs, and I realised why she’d wanted me to crouch down.
Jen’s hands descended past the rice, reaching down to her ankles, and then to her toes, forcing her dress to ride up over her bottom until I could see the rounded curves of her cheeks. I glanced nervously up and down the aisle: it was deserted. Wordlessly, she tilted her hips and spread her legs further. There, between her cheeks, I could see the glint of a pink gemstone embedded in her rear. Jen wiggled her hips seductively and I felt myself getting hard, unable to tear my eyes away from the sight. She looked at me over her shoulder, a knowing smile on her lips.
“Hard choice, right?”
She scooped up a sack of rice, canlı bahis siteleri saying, “Don’t get up.”
Jen walked slowly around the trolley, hips rolling as she enjoyed the movement of the plug embedded firmly within her. She wheeled the trolley into position to shield herself from view down the aisle and slipped between it and myself, bending over again to lay the rice in the bottom, her rear now tantalisingly close to my face. Jen leaned further, tugging at her dress slightly until the hem rode up again, exposing her buttocks.
Pressed against the basket, she spread her legs slightly, giving me a close-up view of the gemstone lodged between her cheeks and the enticing lips of her pussy glistening with moisture just below. I glanced down the aisle again, then bent forward to place a delicate kiss between her legs, smelling the scent of Jen’s arousal. Jen’s thighs quivered at the touch of my lips on her pussy. Feeling myself responding to her, I slid my tongue along the groove until I found her clit and touched it with my tongue-tip, eliciting an involuntary contraction of her buttocks around the steel intrusion.
Being forced to wear the butt plug in public was playing hell with Jen’s body. I could only imagine what state she would be in after an entire day of walking around with the new object embedded inside her. I stood up.
“You’re being very bad. You’re going to get into trouble,” I cautioned.
Jen smiled at me over her shoulder, backing up to brush the bulge in my jeans with her bottom, sending little shivers through me as she pressed her firm flesh against my erection.
“Seems like you’re the one in trouble,” she murmured and then without warning began to push the trolley down the aisle, leaving my tented crotch exposed.
“Don’t forget the oil,” she called over her shoulder.
I scurried to catch up, holding the can of oil in front of me as a shield, until I reached the relative safety of the trolley.
“How about I push and you load?” I said.
“Whatever you’re most comfortable with,” Jen replied, her hand drifting down to cup my bulge briefly. She gave me a squeeze.
“Is this part of your instructions?” I groaned.
Jen feigned innocence, fluttering her eyelashes. “What?”
“Winding me up in the middle of the store.”
“No babe, this is all just me. Payback from last night.”
“You seemed to have had no complaints.”
“Just balancing the books.”
We looped around into the next aisle and Jen tracked through her shopping list while I kept the trolley pressed up close against myself.
“You made me break my promise. I had to punish myself for an hour,” Jen said, then shot me a long look, “It was unbearable. I’m still so horny, even now.”
She gathered up a couple of cans of kidney beans and placed them in the trolley. We wandered further down the aisle, Jen’s hips swaying enticingly. I imagined that she was enjoying the feeling of the plug moving inside her as she walked. Her pussy had certainly been slick when I’d kissed it.
“Jen,” I said, clearing my throat as I felt my erection finally beginning to subside, “I have to ask you something.”
“You didn’t have to tell her that I made you climax out on the balcony. She wouldn’t have found out.”
“Because I would have told her. I’m supposed to be completely honest with her at all times.”
She stopped and turned to me, frowning. “What’s on your mind, Henry?”
“Don’t you think you’re taking this a bit too seriously? It’s supposed to be fun.”
“I’m having fun. So are you, as I noticed last night.”
I steeled myself to ask the question. “Are you making your own decisions? Or is she making your decisions for you? Are you under her control?”
Jen walked back to me, sliding her hands around my waist. I looked into her soft hazel eyes, trying to read her thoughts.
“Are you worried about me?”
“I’m a big girl. I’ll know if it’s too much.”
It was the way her answer echoed the one I’d gotten from Anya that disturbed me, but before I could push further, Jen kissed me. I kissed her back and felt her tongue slip between my lips as she pressed her body against me. I could feel myself stiffening again and so could she. In response Jen rocked her hips slightly, grinding her crotch against mine. Satisfied that she’d gotten me hard again, she broke off the kiss, smiling at me coyly.
“That’s the problem with the plug,” she breathed, her face close to mine, “I’m constantly reminded of it. It’s the weight, inside me. It makes me think of other things… inside me.”
She ground against me again and I knew I’d lost the initiative.
“Is it your plan to have me walk every aisle in this place with an erection?” I asked.
Jen pulled away, bringing out the list again.
“Come on Henry,” she called over her shoulder, “We’re never gonna be done at this rate.”
Jen kept it up, or more precisely, kept me up, for the canlı bahis rest of the journey around the store. She would back into me while discussing bread, or casually run her hand down the front of my jeans as we stood in the checkout queue.
“Don’t,” I hissed into her ear as she continued to bag up our groceries, smiling at the checkout girl as if nothing untoward was going on, while all the time pressing her bottom into my crotch.
“Come on,” she smiled at me as she paid, sliding her hand into my jeans pocket.
Jen’s fingertips were rubbing against my engorged tip under the material as I pushed the trolley down the ramp into the car park under the store, where we had parked the car in the far corner. I had to grab her by the wrist to pull free of her teasing touch.
“Going back to what I was asking,” I began, “I just wanted to know if you were okay with all of this. I feel like we’re going in a new direction to what we had before.”
Jen laid a hand on mine as I pushed the trolley to the car. Her skin felt soft and warm.
“Are you afraid Mistress X is going to teach me things that you can’t?”
Her tone was playful but mocking. It goaded me.
“Is that what you want?”
“Babe, don’t get defensive. I’m just saying that she has ideas that you don’t. Not better, just different.”
We walked in silence, while I brooded over that information. It occurred to me that what Jen was getting from Mistress X was what I would never have suggested to her in person. Face-to-face with the woman I loved, it was hard to put her in that position. Messaging instructions to her was another matter; it was less personal, it let me push further, and it seemed that Jen wanted to see how far she could go. I realised that ironically, all the time I’d known her, I’d been the one dialling it back and holding it in while she’d been ready to go further. But I needed to find out something: was this the real Jen that was now surfacing in front of us, a woman craving the opportunity to be owned completely by another human being, or was this an aberration? How far did Jen really want to go, and would Anya and I want to take her there?
The puzzle pieces were dropping into place. She was giving me permission to take it further and it was up to me to push her: what I thought had been recklessness on Anya’s part with some of her more outrageous messages was exactly what Jen was looking for. I slipped my hand out from under hers: I knew what I had to do.
Jen shot me a look, frowning again.
I didn’t reply, continuing in silence until we’d reached the car.
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to compare you.”
“But you did. That’s going to cost you.”
“Load the groceries.”
Jen’s mouth opened as if to deliver one of her trademark rebuffs, but she stopped as I held her gaze.
“Okay,” she conceded.
Jen opened up the back of the car and began to transfer the bags while I watched. I had reverse parked, so Jen was now in the little space between the back of the car and the concrete wall of the carpark.
“Naked,” I said.
Jen froze. I waited.
“Naked,” I repeated, folding my arms.
Jen looked around the carpark. We were in a corner, a long way from anyone else, but still in public. I wanted to see what she’d do; I was about to make her life more difficult.
“Henry, I can’t. People would see.”
“They could have seen on the balcony last night. That girl did see, in the shop window, but you still did it. Now, strip yourself and pack the groceries,” I replied evenly.
Her eyes scanned the carpark again before settling on me.
“Strip or safeword, your call.”
Jen hesitated, bunching her fists in the fabric of her dress, chewing her lip as she stared back at me.
“Jen,” I said, “We both know you’re going to do what I say. So, are you going to strip for me?”
Jen looked at me for a moment longer and then nodded.
“Sorry,” I prompted, “I need to hear.”
“Yes,” she replied in a small voice, “Yes, sir.”
Jen pulled the dress up over her head, revealing her naked skin. She shook her blonde ponytail free of the fabric and dumped the dress on the car roof.
“Bra,” I reminded her.
Jen’s arms reached behind her and she unfastened her bra, dropping it on top of her dress. She stood in front of me awkwardly, cheeks blushing, not daring to break eye contact, pleading with me silently. I took a moment to cast my eyes over her gorgeous, naked body.
“Too slow. That’s going to have consequences. Now pack.”
I watched as my beautiful partner continued to load the shopping into the back of the car, going as fast as she could, desperately hoping not to be caught out in the open by a passer-by.
“Slow down. I want to enjoy this.”
Jen grimaced but she slowed down, realising that she was going to have to bear the humiliation of being stripped naked in a public carpark for as long as I wanted her to stand there. Finally, she put the last bag into the car.
Jen closed the back of the car and stood in silence, waiting with trepidation for my next command. There was something in her expression that told me to go further.
“The trolley,” I said, “You’d better take care of it.”