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ladystoy2 -> Last Chance (9/5/2009 10:46:10 PM)
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She went to his place that night. She had been, three or four times a week, ever since he moved there. Prior to that our relationship had been on and off with months between visits and IM or phone in the interim. Both had backed off a few times only to come back.
It had been an odd relationship; he had found her while looking for a Domme. They both, however, could be aroused on both sides of the whip. In a twist of fate they initially both responded as a submissive to the other's dominant side. Their friends joked that they'd have to arm wrestle to see who had to top. When he finally decided to move to the same city they had agreed not to try to force it either way but to let what happened naturally just happen, even if that meant they had no long term D/s roles or, as they shuddered to think, turned into a vanilla couple.
So for a little over a year now they had no long term role. Each had felt times of dominance and each of submission. Generally one of them would assert themselves, sometimes out of desire and sometimes in response to, if not quite just to humor, the others needs.
She settled onto the couch next to him. He had just started a DVD when she said, “My feet hurt from walking over”. He knelt down and slipped her shoes off and began to massage them. This had become over the past year one of her ways to signal a toppy mood. She enjoyed foot worship and he loved to do it.
He rubbed each foot carefully in ways experience had taught him brought her the most pleasure. His thumbs pressed along the lines of the muscles and tendons running the bottoms to relax them. He ached to begin to bathe them with his tongue and lips but he knew she like the relaxing massage first. Slipping slowly into a submissive state he thought more of how she drew maximum pleasure from this simple, almost stereotypical, task for a slave to give his Mistress. The gentle squeezes and running lines slowly relaxed her feet and she sighed softly.
He had gotten much better these past few months. While the first six months they had roughly taken each role half the time with a couple of out and out vanilla dates each month. However, if he stopped to think, the last six months had seen that ratio drift until for the past couple of weeks he had always been the one on his knees. The few times he did think about it he realized that suited him just fine. He wondered if she had noticed and if that was fine with her or if there would soon be a flip. If there was would it be as constant?
Just as he bent to give his first kiss to her feet she rubbed her hands in his short cut hair. “Wouldn't you be more comfortable naked,” she said, a statement as much as question.
“Yes,” he said, waiting to see if she wanted that or was teasing him.
“Then strip, but slowly. I want to enjoy it.”
He stood. The first few times he had subbed he'd request to be naked while she remained clothed. She initially had not been overly into the clothed female, naked male thing, finding it silly more than anything else. However, as she began to notice its effects on him, she began to initiate it more when she was dominant. When he asked, she said it made him just that much cuter as he slid into subspace.
Slowly he pulled off his shirt. She'd slowly and rather gently so he'd barely picked up on it, turned him into her kind of male stripper. He worked his clothing off to a couple of oos and aahs and more than one comment made him blush. Even now, six years after they met (and neither of them innocent nor young even then) she could still make him blush bright red with the simplest of comments. She still laughed at his embarrassment and savored when her laugher pressed it towards the line of humiliation.
Clothes removed he knelt before her again and began to worship her feet more fully. First was rubbing followed by light kisses, pecks really, on each foot. Then longer kisses with no more pressure along their arches and at the heels. Quick pecks on the toes followed. Then he lifted her left foot, cradling it and began to kiss on the sole at the fleshy point right below the big toe. The kiss lingered and at the end his lips parted and his tongue briefly flicked before he lightly bit. He began to work small bites back to the heel along the inside of her foot along the line when the sides of her foot turned under along the arch.
She moaned light in appreciation and placed her hand on his head.
“My very good toy. For someone who did not like this when you met me you certainly can please me with it now,” she said. Raising her right foot into his groin she found his expected arousal and pressed lightly drawing a moan from him as well. “And I see you like it too,” she teased, “but be sure that my liking comes first like a good boy.”
She released his head and lowered her foot. “Continue,” she said.
He continued his work. Slowly, listening for signs to indicate what was pleasing to her and what was not.
After a long sigh she said, “I think I want to play with my toy tonight.”
Recognizing another signal never taught as a rule but simply an understanding of her he had learned he leaned back to kneel before her. He placed his hands before him, palms up, wrists awaiting the cuffs and collar that would be the first sign of ownership, however temporary, she would place on him for the evening.
She reached into her purse and drew out wrist and ankle cuffs as well as a metal ring with several luggage sized padlocks. I immediately noticed two things that were different from out past encounters. First, the cuffs were not the ones she normally carried. Her normal cuffs were plain black leather with cream fleece lining. These were purple and intricately carved with entwining vines although still with the cream fleece lining. Given his tastes in colors and his love of Art Novuea he could not help but wonder if these were bought specifically to use on him. The second unusual thing was she had too many locks. Normally she had five, one for each cuff and for the collar, but now there were at least eight and perhaps as many as ten.
She also failed to pull out a collar.
Seeing the surprise on his face she said, “Yes, these are new and made strictly for you. As for the missing collar and so many locks, we’ll discuss it once you’re cuffed. Then I’ll tell you some and ask you to make a choice. What you choose will determine if you learn more.”
He nodded and, as he’d learned to do, placed his wrists in front of himself. She carefully placed the new cuffs around his wrists and locked them in place. As each lock clicked he felt a wave run through him, moving his mind into subspace and causing his penis to quivered in excitement. She laughed at each pulse but did not comment as she often did. She gestured him forward and he lay down upon the floor with his legs bent up making it easier for her to reach his ankles, which were soon cuffed as well. He once again felt hers and now hoped to hear that same click as she locked on a collar and the complete sensation of ownership it would bring.
“Back to kneeling but eyes down for a moment,” she said. He returned to kneeling and wondered what she was up to. He had gotten the normal expectation that subs were to be eyes downcast when he first joined the S&M world. She, however, enjoyed looking into his eyes most of the time. She said it seemed too many Dominants couldn’t stand to have their sub look into their eyes. For her, the things she saw in his eyes were a rush of power and possession she said.
"You may look up."
As he looked up he saw her holding two collars. One was the usual plain black leather one they used regularly. The other was a beautiful purple one carved to match the cuffs. It also had a metal tag dangling from the D-ring in the front. She turned it and held it close so he could read the tag. A pet name he’d given me and a nine digit number were on it. He was astonished. He’d sent his Slave Registry Number in an email over a year before he moved to her as an open offer. She’d never mentioned it so he let it go. Yet now it was on a collar clearly meant specifically for him.
“Years ago you offered me something that, at the time, I doubted I’d ever want. Not because of you but because I believed the part of me that would want to be a permanent owner was in my past. These past few months I’ve realized that is not true,” she said.
“I would claim you as mine but the choice must be yours in the now as opposed to years ago. I know this is a surprise and if you say ‘no’ tonight I won’t view it as permanent unless you say so. That said this collar will not come alone. You have seen the extra locks and if I claim you those locks will join the ones you have long worn as part of your normal adornment with me, “she continued.
He looked at her with a slightly puzzled look.
“Ah, I’m sure you can know what one would be given you’ve begged for it often enough. As for the others, I will not explain. Ownership means submitting to my desires without recourse. You will taste that from the moment I claim you when you chose to be claimed,” she said.
“When?”, he asked.
“Of course when. I know you might say ‘no’ tonight but you’ve desired this too long to always say ‘no’,” she said smiling the entire time.
“My greatest desire has been to be your property,” he replied.
“Then you accept my claim on you,” she asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“Then I claim you as mine,” she said, “Now crawl behind me so we can formalize it.”
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