Thank you for your interest in reading this second chapter of Going Under. I would suggest that if you are unfamiliar with this story, you might like to read the first chapter before enjoying this one, as it will add significantly to the character development. However, if you would prefer not to, please enjoy this installment, this as I'm confident that you will still enjoy it on its own.
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Two days had passed since Desiree and I had been together, which was hardly unusual. We each had careers to maintain, and sometimes we went from weekend to weekend, keeping in touch on the phone through the day, but not seeing each other.
It was Tuesday and I was getting ready for work as the call came through. We chatted the usual "good morning, how'd you sleep" and other mundanities that occurred when we spoke this early, but I could sense tension in her voice. Her answers were a little sharper than usual. They came quicker. After a couple of minutes my instinct proved correct.
"I need to see you." Her voice was deeper, slower but with a hint of urgency that I couldn't place. I hadn't heard it before.
"Ok. What's up?" I replied.
"I... I just need you."
My first thought was off the mark. The protective warrior man-beast in me reared its head. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
I wasn't getting the clues. I knew that, but I couldn't get a read on what was going on until she spoke again.
"I miss you." Her voice was still unusual but that clued me in, or maybe my morning cup of coffee had finally hit my brain. I had never heard that from her before. Not like this. Practice kicked in, like muscle memory but more carnal.
"Good, my girl. That pleases me."
"Can I come over tonight?"
"No. You can tomorrow tonight." I silently, mentally kicked myself in the teeth. Without any good reason other than to assert my dominance, I'd just passed up the opportunity to have her company tonight. A classic rookie mistake, missing out on what I want just to be Mr. Dominant.
She was quiet. It lasted a little too long for my comfort, but her voice came back soft, passionate, throaty. "Yes sir."
Her submissive tone went straight to my head. My heart high-fived my brain. I could feel it suddenly pounding in my chest. I was completely off my guard. I worked hard to not let it show in my voice. Undeniable truths had been growing in my head, we were perfect together. Her attitude and her responses were like the first drink of cool water after a hard day in the heat. My little mistake had bought me time and I decided to follow through.
"Desiree, my girl. Go get your hair done up nicely. Have it put up. I don't want to see one strand hanging down, except one little wisp against one cheek. I want you in one of your tight, little, black dresses and black pumps, no underwear, no jewelry. Be here at eight o'clock."
"Yes sir." She practically whispered it. Passion was dripping from her voice.
"Now go. Tomorrow will be a special day."
"Yes sir." Her voice brightened and became more animated. "Goodbye. I mean, goodbye sir."
"Goodbye beautiful."
I hung up the phone and returned to the part of life that serves only to fuel my preferences.
I thought it through as best I could. I don't subscribe to all of the traditional ideas of the lifestyle I have chosen. I understand them. I respect them, but the highest ideal that I subscribe to of the BDSM culture is essentially, "Make it your own." If it works for the participants, it's not for others to judge.
It had been a month since our first encounter that was overtly steeped in dominance and submission, but we had talked about it extensively. We played and I explored her boundaries. She had expressed her desire to go all in and I was ready to take here there.
It was time to put a collar on this girl and engage that beautifully intoxicating physical element of dominance. A bond of submission for her and a symbol of my promises to care for her, keep her safe, and be trustworthy, as well as my ownership of her as long as she would have me.
It's also one potently erotic adornment. The thought of my collar on Desiree's neck had my cock rock hard in my boxers.
The day took forever to pass.
I have a drawer in my bedroom full of items that I occasionally refer to as implements of seduction. It contains a wide variety of sex toys and other elements of our lifestyle. I'd bought the entire assortment just for Desiree and I.
In the weeks before we'd had our first dominance and submission encounter, I'd bound her for the first time and introduced her lovely ass to a rather aggressive butt plug. Since then I'd taken her to the drawer where we talked about the more intense possibilities of us as a dominant and submissive couple. It was the fruit of many conversations, finally coming to a head.
I'd shown her the contents of the drawer then, holding some up to exhibit for her, making sure that she noticed everything that was important or likely to push her boundaries. I watched her reactions to see which ones she responded to the most. I had purchased a goofy, little, purple dog collar on a thin leash from a pet store to include in the mix of items. She reacted strongest to that, leading me to think she might reject it. As we looked over those contents I asked her many times If there was anything in the drawer that she would not want me to include in our relationship. She had been open to all of it. The poor girl had to have been a little overwhelmed but she is quick witted, intelligent, and nobodies fool. She had not been duped. She was willingly giving me permission and I took that to heart because I knew she meant it from her heart.
What she didn't know was that the funky little purple dog collar was going to be replaced by a beautifully crafted, thin, black leather collar with a subtle red inscription which said, "Property of Steve" It had a bright chrome ring attached to it and a fine steel buckle. It was made to not chafe tender flesh, with thin, soft, black padding inside.
Since then I'd acquired three thin, black leashes of different lengths. One was about a foot and a half long. It was really more of a functional adornment than a leash but it worked well for both purposes. It had lace trim and was very feminine. The second was a few feet long, much more functional, and less feminine. The third was thin, strong, black cord, long enough to tether her in the corner of a room, yet still give her freedom of movement anywhere in the room. Of course, I still had the option of tying it at any length I chose. All of them had hand loops at the tag end.
I'd purchased plenty of rope too. No artisan of bondage is worth his salt without rope craft in my opinion.
Tomorrow I would bring these tools to their intended use, intensifying and solidifying my girls submissive role and cementing my maturing relationship to her.
Wednesday passed and I prepared well. I had my finest black suit pressed and my shoes freshly shined. I wore a dark red tie, the only colorful accent. I got a fresh haircut and had the barber perfect my goatee.
