He hadn’t planned on fucking Amy in her childhood bedroom.  Just like he hadn’t planned to leave her parents’ house and drive straight to hers.  But, here he was, sitting at her kitchen table and waiting for her to get home.  He had a key to her place, just like she had one to his, but he’d never used the key without at least texting her first.

He shifted in the chair and rubbed at his cock.  He was hard and throbbing despite fucking her earlier.  God, the way she had sounded when she told him about her fantasy.  He hadn’t worked up the nerve to tell her he’d had similar fantasies.  Maybe because her fantasy about him sounded light and sweet and his fantasies about her were just… dark.

He told himself to avoid touching her until she’d signed the agreement.  He’d fucked that up royally, but he’d spent most of Sunday in a state of weird anxiety as he checked his email repeatedly.  As the hours passed, his anxiety had turned to panic.  Even now, he could feel that panic lurking just below the surface of his skin.  What if she didn’t sign the agreement?  What if she changed her mind?  He would go crazy if she showed up at the club and played with another Dom.  Hell, he’d go crazy if she went to another club.  Amy was his and he wasn’t –

Stop it!  She’s not yours.  She’s not yours and she never can be.  You need to stop this madness.  Do you really think you can treat Amy like she’s a toy to play with?  You love her and -

He shut down his inner voice.  It was just a desperate attempt to keep Amy from the wrong Dom that had made him offer her the master/slave thing.  Well, maybe not just desperation.  He wanted Amy to be his slave, he wanted Amy tied to his bed moaning and crying out for him to fuck her.  He wanted to spank her and collar her and teach her the art of submission.  He wanted all of those things.  He wanted more.

He tugged at his earlobe before pulling his cell phone out of his pocket.  This was all he could have with Amy and he would enjoy it for as long as she agreed to it.  Maybe after a month or two, they would be satisfied and the attraction would end.  Maybe it wasn’t really love he felt but a lust so intense it only masqueraded as love.

You’re an idiot.  You know that, right?

He was saved from answering by the sound of Amy’s key in the door.  He stared at his cell phone, his heart bang, bang, banging in his chest.  It had nearly killed him not to let Amy come earlier but she needed to learn to obey him.  Still, he couldn’t stand the thought of making her wait to orgasm. 

So, here he was.  Sitting in her kitchen like he belonged there, staring at his phone with an air of indifference while his heart threatened to beat right out of his damn chest.

“Mark?”  Her voice was tinged with surprise.  “What are you doing here?”

“In your bedroom, slave position.”  He didn’t look up from his phone, scrolling across the screen without seeing anything on it.

She walked out of the kitchen immediately.  He gave her a few extra minutes, knowing the objects he’d placed on her bed would make her pause.  After an agonizing ten minutes, he stood and walked to her bedroom.  She had left the door open and it was almost impossible to keep the impassive look on his face as he entered the room.

She was naked and kneeling next to the bed.  Her lush, smooth thighs were spread wide, giving him a gorgeous view of her pussy.  He studied the short patch of light blonde curls above her mound before raising his gaze to her tits.  Fuck, he loved her tits.  Her pink nipples were hard, and he could barely control his urge to drop to his knees in front of her and suck on them.  His erection was huge, his cock pressing against the denim with painful intensity. 

He stood in front of her.  Her hands rested against her thighs, palms up, and she held her head up but kept her eyes lowered.  She was a fast learner.  He was almost disappointed by that.  The longer it took her to learn how to be submissive, the longer he had with her.

Her cheeks were red, but she didn’t move when he reached out and petted her hair.  “Very good, little slave.”

She had a vanity in the far corner with a wooden chair.  Leaving Amy on her knees, he crossed the room and picked up the chair, carrying it over and setting it about five feet away from her.  He picked up his collar and the paddle from the bed.  The paddle was round and made of leather with a short handle.  He returned to her and held it where he knew her downcast gaze could see it.  Her cheeks pinked more, and his cock protested the confinement of his jeans. 

Just thinking about the way her ass would look when he was finished made his dick throb and his balls tightened.  He petted her hair again before moving to the chair and sitting down.  He was antsy with anticipation and need, and he made himself take a few deep breaths to calm down.  He needed to keep his control.  Just because he was in Amy’s bedroom, just because she was naked and on her knees and every part of him was screaming to fuck her perfect, pink, pussy, he couldn’t lose control. 

He was living out one of his biggest fantasies, but he also had a job to do.  He had done this countless times before with new submissives.  This wasn’t any different.

Bullshit.  This isn’t some random submissive.  This is Amy.  The woman you love.

He shoved aside his inner voice.  “Look at me, slave.”

She raised her gaze to him.  Her blue eyes held anticipation, fear, desire. 

“Come.”

She started to stand, and he shook his head.  She hesitated and then dropped to her hands and knees and crawled towards him.  He stared at her breasts and the seductive sway of her hips.  The pressure in his groin was unbearable and he had to adjust his jeans.  A quick, smug smile crossed her face and he almost laughed.  God, she would be a handful as a submissive.  He was more than up to the challenge of taming her.

She stopped in front of him and assumed the slave position, staring fixedly at his chest as he tapped the paddle against his own thigh.  Her gaze flickered to the paddle and he could see her body tense. 

He held the paddle out to her.  “Hold this, little slave.”

She took it from him gingerly, almost as if it would burn her.  Relief crossed her face.  The paddle was light in weight and he knew she thought it meant it would hurt less.  She wasn’t completely wrong.  A wooden paddle would hurt more but the leather one she held in her hands would still deliver a satisfying sting.

He leaned forward, groaning at the pressure it put on his dick, and buckled the collar around her neck.  The moment it was fastened, some of his tension ease.  Amy was wearing his collar.  She belonged to him and any Dom who saw her would know she was taken.

“Are you ready for your punishment?”

She stared up at him without invitation, but he let it slide.  “I’ve already been punished, Sir.”

He mentally added five spanks to her punishment.  “Have you?”

“Yes.  Earlier.  You wouldn’t let me come, remember, Sir?”

Her tone made him itch to push her over his knee and start spanking her immediately, but he said, “That was punishment for not signing the agreement in a timely manner.”

“I haven’t done anything else to deserve punishment.”

Another five spanks were added.

He leaned forward.  Her blonde hair was in a clip and he released the clip and tossed it aside.  He slid his hand into her silky hair and pulled her head back with a sharp and painful tug.  She winced but he saw a flash of desire in her eyes before she gave him an impudent look.

“What were you going to do when you came home, slave?”

“I – nothing, Sir.”

He tugged on her hair again.  “You weren’t going to masturbate?”

“No.”  She cast her eyes to the left and he cupped her breast with his other hand and squeezed.

“Look at me, little slave.”

She dragged her gaze back to his. 

“Are you telling me that you weren’t going to touch your perfect, little pussy – which belongs to me, by the way – with your soft fingers until you came all over them?”

“No, Sir.”

He pinched her nipple.  She winced and gave him a defiant look.  “I was going to use my vibrator, Sir.”

His snort of laughter escaped before he could stop it.  Her cheeky and way-too-adorable grin dropped from her face when he said, “In the last two minutes, you’ve added ten spanks to your punishment.  That just got you another ten.”

Her lips pressed together and the defiance in her eyes faded.  He rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone.  “Time for your punishment, slave.  Lie across my lap.”

She hesitated.  “Will you kiss me first, Mark?  I mean…Sir?”

Without speaking, he shifted forward on the chair until she was wedged between his legs.  He took the paddle from her and tucked it under his thigh before brushing her hair away from her face.  He bent his head and pressed his mouth against hers.  She moaned and returned his kiss, licking at his mouth with her soft tongue.  He sucked on her tongue when she pushed it into his mouth.  She rubbed her tits against his chest and he cupped her breast, pulling and tugging on her nipple as he tasted every part of her sweet mouth.  He put his arms around her and reached down to rub and massage her ass, increasing the blood flow in preparation for his spanking.  When she was clutching at his thighs and making low groans of need, he pulled away.  He ran his fingers over her mouth before sitting back in the chair and patting his lap.

This time there was no hesitation.  She stood and draped her body over his lap.  Her head hung down and he threaded his hand around her collar and tugged.  “Look at the mirror, little slave.”

He had deliberately placed the chair near the full-length mirror in her room.  She shook her head.  “No, I don’t want to.”

He spanked her left cheek with his hand.  She squealed, and he tugged on her collar again. “Look.”

She turned her head and stared at their images.  Her face flushed red but he smiled at her and smoothed his hand over her ass.  “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome.”  He kept his hand around her collar, keeping her head twisted toward the mirror as he spanked her again.  She squeaked out another cry but watched in the mirror as he spanked her a third time.  When he released her collar and pressed his hand against her lower back to steady her on her lap, she continued to stare into the mirror.

“Good girl,” he praised before spanking her again.  He spanked each cheek five times, reveling in her little squeals of pain and the way her body twitched.  He continued to spank her until her ass was a warm, rosy red.  He stopped and pushed his hand between her legs. 

“Oh, oh please, Sir” she immediately begged.

She was soaking wet and he thumbed her clit before sliding his finger into her pussy.  She squeezed around him and he gave her a few hard strokes with his finger before pulling it away.

“No!  Please, Sir!”  She cried.

“What’s your safe word, little slave?”

“Magnolia, Sir.”  Her eyes grew round when he pulled the paddle out from under his thigh.

He ran it over the backs of her thighs as she stiffened.

“Sir?”

“Twenty strokes with the paddle,” he said.  “You’re going to count

“Sir, I - ”

“You will count out loud, little slave.  If you miss one, another will be added to your punishment.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Very good.”  He spanked her left cheek with the paddle.  It made a low thud against her flesh that made his cock twitch with anticipation.

She cried out, her back arching before she moaned, “One, Sir.”

“Very good, little slave,” he praised before spanking her again.

“Two, Sir!”

He spanked her again and again, each one driving his need for her higher.  He kept the spanking lighter than he normally would.  The paddle produced a harder, deeper pain than spanking with his hand and he didn’t want to bruise her.  Spanking Amy was a huge turn on for him and he’d rather spank her lightly and more often, than harder and be forced to wait until the bruises abated.  He had debated whether she was even ready for the paddle.  In the end, unable to resist, he had decided to use it.  Staring at the bright red blotches the paddle left on her ass sent fresh excitement through him.  He spanked her again.

“Ten!”  He could hear the waver in her voice and he pushed his hand between her legs and rubbed at her pussy.

She moaned and squirmed against his hand.  She was so wet, she was leaving a damp spot on his jeans.  He groaned inwardly.  Fuck, he needed to finish spanking her before he came in his pants like a fucking teenager.

“You’re doing very well, little slave,” he said as he brushed his hand over her bright red ass.  “Only ten more.”

“Please, Sir,” she begged.

Her head was hanging down and he used her collar to gently tug it up to study her face in the mirror.  Her eyes were bright with tears and he could see the wet tracks on her cheeks.

Worried that she was trying to take too much, he did something he never did during a play session. 

He broke it.

“Amy, baby, do you need to stop?”

“No, I – no, I don’t want to stop yet.”

He rubbed her lower back.  “Are you sure?”

“Yes.  I didn’t say my safe word.  I can take more.”  He could hear the impatience in her voice.

God, she was so fucking beautiful and strong.

He spanked her again, letting the rhythm take over as she counted out each spank with increasing urgency.  At thirteen, she reached behind her to try and protect her ass.  He pinned her wrists against her lower back with one hard hand, relishing the power over her as she kicked her feet and shouted out the fourteenth spank.

By the twentieth spank she was slumped against his lap, shuddering and panting heavily.  He dropped the paddle and rubbed her ass, giving her some time to catch her breath.  She winced and tried to pull away and he switched to rubbing the back of her thighs.

“Stand up, little slave,” he said.

“I can’t.”

“You can.  Just for a minute,” he said.

She moaned her displeasure as he helped her stand.  Her legs were trembling, and she swayed like she was standing on the deck of a ship.  “Please, Sir.”

She clutched at his shoulders for balance as he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans.  He shoved them and his briefs down his legs and kicked them off before pulling his shirt over his head.

“Please, Sir,” Amy whispered.  Her hand was inching toward her pussy and he pulled it away before sitting on the chair again.

“Straddle me.”

She did what he asked, and he helped steady her with one hand on her hip as the other held the base of his cock.  He guided it into her pussy as she eased down.  She moaned in sheer delight as he filled her.  He clenched his teeth against the groan that wanted to escape.  Her pussy was smooth, warm and oh-so-fucking tight.

He was sheathed completely in her and he made a few thrusts.  She cried out and, despite how badly she was shaking, used her legs to bounce up and down on him. 

“Oh fuck,” he moaned.  “Stop moving, slave.”

She made a noise of frustration but obeyed him.  He closed his eyes and thought about spreadsheets, numbers, the weird noise coming from his furnace that he really needed to have someone look at.

When he had a little more control, he opened his eyes.  Amy’s hand was sliding toward her pussy again and he grabbed both of her hands and yanked them behind her back.  He held them with one hard hand and pulled until her back arched.

“Mark, please!”

He spanked her ass with his other hand and she squealed in pain and clenched around him so tightly that he nearly shot his load into her.

“Master!  I’m sorry!”  She cried out.

He bent his head and sucked one hard nipple into his mouth.  Her cries of pleasure and the way her pussy squeezed and released him were pushing him toward his orgasm, even though neither of them were moving.

He raised his head and tightened his hand around her wrists before cupping her pussy with his other hand.  He let his fingers rest against her clit but didn’t move them.  “Your pussy belongs to me.”

“Yes, Sir,” she moaned.

“You are not to touch it unless I give you permission.  Do you understand, little slave?”

“Please!”  She rubbed herself against his hand and he pinched her clit hard between his fingertips.  She cried out and froze against him.

“Look at me.”

She bit her bottom lip before opening her eyes.  Her magnificent breasts were heaving for air, her cheeks were bright red, and a tear was sliding down her face.  “Please, Master, I need to come.”

“Whose pussy is this?”

“My Master’s.”

“Louder, little slave.”

“My Master’s!”  She shouted.  “It’s my Master’s pussy!”

“Good girl.”  He released her clit and she cried out with a combination of relief and pure need.

He thrust back and forth.  Her pussy clenched around him like a vise and he stared at her bouncing breasts as he fucked her.  Christ, he couldn’t last a goddamn second longer.  He reached for her clit again and whispered, “Come for me, little slave.”

He gave her clit two hard strokes with his thumb.  She screamed and came immediately, her pussy clamping around his dick in a stranglehold.  He released her wrists and grabbed her hips, holding her still as he fucked her twice more before climaxing with a primal roar of hunger and lust.

She collapsed against him, resting her head against his shoulder as he pumped in and out of her with slow strokes.  He rubbed her back and kissed her neck.  “Stand up, Ames.”

“Can’t,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

He grinned and hooked his hands under her thighs before standing.  She squealed and clung to his thick neck.  “Mark!  Put me down.”

“You said you couldn’t stand, remember?”

“I’m too heavy to be carried.  You’re going to hurt yourself.”

He nipped at her shoulder.  “Say that again and I’ll spank you.”

She winced.  “Please don’t.  My butt is on fire right now.”

He carried her to the bed and set her next to it.  She held on to the bed post as he pulled the quilt and sheets back.  “Get in, Ames.”

She climbed gingerly into the bed, lying on her side with her back to him.  She was shaking, and he pulled the leather bag he’d brought from the car closer to the bed and opened it.  There was a bottle of aloe vera gel and a couple of bottles of water.  He opened the water.

“Sit up.”

She propped her upper half up on her hip, trying to keep pressure off her ass.  He held the bottle to her mouth.  “Drink.”

She drank almost half of it and he smoothed the strands of hair away from her face.  She was still trembling, and he debated for a moment before reaching back into the bag.  She hadn’t gone into subspace, but it wouldn’t hurt to give her chocolate.  He produced a plastic bag of small pieces of dark chocolate.  He handed her a square.

“Eat this.”

She gave him a quizzical look and he said, “Eat, Amy.”

As she popped the chocolate into her mouth, he poured some Aloe Vera gel onto his hands and smoothed it over her red ass.  She winced and returned to lying on her side.  When he was finished, he drank some water and rubbed her lower back before shutting off the light and climbing into the bed behind her.  He caressed her hip and her side, keeping his touch gentle.

“Are you leaving now?”  Her voice was low.

He needed to say yes.  He didn’t sleep with the slaves he trained.  He had a play session, provided aftercare and then left.  But the thought of leaving Amy, of getting dressed and driving home in the cold and the dark, made his insides clench.  He wrapped his arm around her waist and pressed up against her.

She winced at the pressure on her butt but didn’t move away.  He nuzzled the back of her shoulder.  “Do you want me to?”

“You know I don’t.”

“Then I’ll stay.”

She relaxed into him.  He thought she’d fallen asleep when her voice drifted out of the dark.  “What are your hard limits?”

“Incest play, and blood play are the top two,” he said.

She shuddered against him.  “Gross.”

I have a more detailed list that I can give you to look at,” he said.  “I can explain what each one is.”

“Okay.  I can do some research on my own as well.”

“I’ll send you some links to a few BDSM sites that have good information.”  He kissed the back of her shoulder.  “There’s a lot to sift through.”

“Right.  Can I ask you something else?”

“Of course.”

“That night that I was at the club, when we, uh, watched the show together.  Do you remember?”

“Anytime you come all over my hand, I’m gonna remember.”

He could almost feel the heat of her blush.  “Anyway, the lady beside us - ”

“Mistress Trina.”

“Yeah.  Her, um, slave had glitter on his mouth after he went down on her.  Why?”

He rubbed her smooth hip.  “Some mistresses put glitter on their pussies.  When their slave eats their pussy, the glitter gets all over their mouth and face.  People know what he’s done, and they know he belongs to her.”

She started to giggle, and he squeezed her hip.  “What?”

“You’re not going to put glitter on your dick, are you?”

“No.  Definitely not.”

“Good.  Because I hate glitter.  It’s like the STD of the art world.  Once you have it, you never get rid of it.”

He laughed so hard the bed shook.  “Where did you come up with that?”

She grinned over her shoulder at him.  “I don’t know.  Internet probably.”

He wanted to kiss her.  He wanted to make her come again.  He wanted to fuck her. 

No, he wanted to make love to her. 

For the first time in years, he wanted vanilla sex.  Panic settled in his stomach like a brick.  He must have stiffened because her smile died.  “What’s wrong?”

“We should talk about what nights we play together.”

“Can’t we just figure it out as we go?”

“No.”  He needed to keep this professional, needed to remember that this wasn’t a relationship.  “I have a busy schedule and I’m sure you do as well.”

His voice had turned colder than he meant but he was rattled by his urge to have normal sex with Amy.  She heard the coldness and scooted away from him, wrapping the covers around her body like a shield.

“Amy, - ”

“It’s fine,” she said.  “I guess probably just a couple nights a week, right?  So, we don’t interrupt our busy schedules.”

“I don’t mean to - ”

“My ass probably can’t take more than a couple spankings a week anyway,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken.  “You work at the club Friday and Saturday nights, and Sunday nights probably don’t really work because of family dinner.  I have pottery on Monday nights.  So, what about Tuesday and Wednesday?”

Her tone was brisk and business like, but he could hear the hurt lurking beneath it.

“Tuesdays work but Wednesdays don’t.”

“Thursday?”

“Sure.”  She hadn’t asked why he couldn’t make Wednesday, but he told her anyway.  Maybe revealing something personal would ease the coldness that was now in her voice.  “I have an Al-Anon meeting every Wednesday night.”

“I didn’t know you went to Al-Anon meetings,” she said.

“I’ve been going for a few years,” he said.  “Luke knows but I asked him not to tell anyone.”

“Does it help?”

“A surprising amount.”

“Good,” she said.  “I’m glad that it helps.”

There was silence between them for a few minutes before she said, “So, Tuesday and Thursday then?”

“Sure.”

“My place or yours?”

“Tuesday at my place and Thursday at yours.”  He lived downtown, and parking was a bitch but he still wanted Amy at his place.  If only to have her scent in his sheets.

“All right.”

Another beat of silence and he was just about to move closer to her when she said, “I’m sorry, but I think I’ve changed my mind about you staying the night.  I have a busy day tomorrow and I need to sleep well.  I’m not used to someone in my bed with me so…”

“Oh, uh, sure,” he said. 

“Do you mind?”

“No, of course not.  I understand.”

Feeling sick to his stomach, he climbed out of bed and turned on the lamp on her nightstand.  He dressed quickly and stuffed the paddle and the aloe vera gel into his bag.  She had taken off his collar and, without looking at him, held it out.

“Don’t forget this.”

He took it and stuffed it into the bag.  Fuck, he had screwed up already.  “Amy, I’m sorry.”

She turned and gave him a too-big-too-bright smile.  “You have nothing to be sorry about.  I really enjoyed tonight.”

“No, I mean - ”

“Do you need me to walk you out?”  She said.

“No.  Stay in bed.”

“Thanks.”  She turned away and pulled the covers to her shoulders.  “Good night.  I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”