Under My Boss's Direction
The smell hits me full in the face, causing my tummy to audibly rumble. It was wonderful, bringing back several happy childhood memories.
“Morning, my darling,” Ryan said, standing at the stove.
He was dressed for the day but in what I guessed for vacation gear. Gone was the tweed and Oxford cloth, replaced by vivid white Chuck Taylors, black jeans and a rust colored cable-knit sweater. Still very nice and far more appropriate for a life in the wilderness. I had to wonder if that was what he was like most of the time. Who he was when he was at home, comfortable.
Maybe the fanciness was something put on because it was expected of his office. I tried to figure out which version of him I honestly liked best, in case it ever came down to a choice. Even though I leaned toward the version cooking me banana pancakes and maple bacon at the vacation house, I couldn’t honestly say I disliked either version of him. On balance, they were both him, just seen in different contexts. If anything, he was privileging me by letting me see his domestic face. Something I doubted few people ever had.
Turning off the gas burners, the blue flames extinguished to nothing, he came over to the table and kissed me tenderly, before gingerly returning to finish off the preparation.
“Like it?”
As with the sex, it was some of the best food I’d ever had, even though I was unable to properly express this fact, except in strongly suggestive noises.
“Good,” he said, kissing me again, placing a hand on my thigh.
I damn near dropped my fork, the sheer pleasure of his touch on my bare skin making me jerk and gasp.
“Sorry.”
“No, no, it’s good, it feels good.”
Leaving his hand where it was, Ryan continued eating one handed, while I tried to focus on the fork coming toward my mouth without stabbing myself in the gums. Getting through breakfast without incident, Ryan ran his hand up under my dress, lightly cupping my bare pussy.
“Oh!”
“No panties.”
“No, sir.”
“Good girl”
He kissed me again, more passionately that time, massaging my pussy as he did so, getting me dangerously close to orgasm.
“May I call you sir?”
“That depends.”
He pulled a long box out his pocket. It was thin and rectangular, covered in black velvet. I looked at him, puzzled, wondering what might be inside.
“Are you familiar with power exchange?”
“Like kinky stuff?” I asked, feeling very innocent and foolish.
“In a manner of speaking. It’s not what you’ve likely seen in the media, not entirely anyway. There are many aspects to it, some gentler than others.”
“Power exchange is a gentler one?”
“The gentlest, at least in terms of the physical element. There doesn’t need to be any punishment at all. All it really means is that you, of your own free will, surrender control to me. You do what I say and let me do whatever I want to you without question. In short, you are mine, though not in an abusive or exploitive way. It is an arrangement we would have reach together.”
“I’ve never heard of it, until now anyway, but I think I’m interested.”
“Open your present,” he said.
At his command, I opened the box, finding a black leather choker which chrome hardware and a lovely, and expensive, looking shamrock charm, encrusted with what looked to be actual emeralds.
“If you agree, you may call me ‘sir’ and I will call you ‘darling’ or ‘pet.’ You will wear that choker at all times as a sign that you are mine. If you wear it I will take it as a yes. That you agree to engage in power exchange with me. If not, we continue as we were, and I won’t say another word about it.”
I really should have thought about it more. It was a big decision after all, but he posed such an intriguing proposal, I didn’t even really think about it before putting the choker around my neck. I already basically considered myself to be his. We might as well make it official.
Chapter Five
Warmth greeted me as I turned. An automatic response to waking that went back to my earliest memories. Searching for comfort in the first hours of the day, neither sleep nor waking, both vital processes, particularly easy for me. His smell drew me in, causing me to nuzzle into Ryan’s neck as he enveloped me in a sure embrace.
It was as intimate as we had been the last few days. The possibility of a pregnancy scare had turned out to have spooked him more than he let on, and so I’d I agreed to go on birth control, which could take up to seven days to take effect. Ryan refused to fuck me until then. I was disappointed but couldn’t fault him for wanting to be safe. I wanted to have a baby with him, honestly, but not before he was ready, if, of course he would ever be.