Author's note:
Thank you
to my co-creator and editor, the brilliant Brit, who co-wrote this chapter with me :)
In previous chapters: Dan, a cop, had attempted suicide after assaulting his ex-wife/sub and ended up at the hospital where he met Nurse Sandra. Their relationship grew over the weeks following his release until finally they became lovers. Sandra wants Dan to dominate her, while Dan fears doing so would put Sandra at risk. Finally, after talking to his shrink and establishing limits with Sandra, their first play session is set to begin.
In this chapter: One long, hot play session. Ooooh yeah baby! :D
~~~~~~~
"So babygirl... you ready to play?"
"Oh yes. I'm so ready. Yes sir!"
I breathe deeply, drinking in the naked need and anticipation in her eyes, feeling my muscles tighten as I catch and ride a renewed surge of adrenaline, my heart thumping hard in my chest.
"Good girl."
I keep my voice low, pause to let my approval resonate between us, and watch Sandra's cheeks warm and her lips part with her tiny whimper.
God, she's sweet. This beautiful, sexy, total newbie little subbie, watching me with those wide, trusting eyes. Fuck, she's gorgeous.
I give myself another mental shake. This is Sandra's first play session, and I've been planning it for a whole week in my mind. I want it to be perfect for her. To do that, I need to keep my focus.
Focus, Dan.
Feeling myself slip into my well-practiced role is like coming home. I let the familiar sense of calm settle around me, steadying my voice as I give her my first instructions.
"Babygirl, I want you to clear the table, take the pitcher and empty glasses back into the kitchen, wash them and put them to dry. Then I'd like you to spend five minutes mentally composing yourself, relaxing your mind and your body into accepting whatever I may ask you to do. When that time is up, come back into the living room, stand on the rug facing me with your feet shoulder width apart, shoulders back and hands behind you clasped above your ass, and wait for my next instruction. Is that clear babygirl?"
She's been listening to me closely, nodding her head at each of my directions, and now she smiles shyly at my question.
"Yes sir, all clear."
I nod my approval and without further comment Sandra rises from the sofa, picks up the glasses and pitcher and turns to the kitchen.
Good. I have about six minutes to prepare the scene.
I quietly walk to the bedroom, strip and grab a towel from the en-suite, hitching it round my waist as I walk. Picking up a pillow from the bed I trot back to the living room, dump the pillow on the chair and rearrange the coffee table and the shaggy purple rug so that they are pushed back a couple of steps away from the single, cushioned chair. Close enough to feel intimate, far enough to be the perfect performing distance. I smile, picturing my plans for Sandra in my mind.
Reaching down to the side of the chair I lift my overnight case, open it and remove a compact kitchen timer, the sort you dial to the desired minute and then watch it slowly whirr its way backwards. This one sounds a metallic purr that grows louder the closer it gets to its goal until it announces the time's up with a loud ping; perfect for my purpose. I place it on the side table next to the chair and return the case to the floor. With my preparations done I tuck the pillow behind me and settle back, waiting, allowing myself to indulge in my rising excitement for just a moment while I'm still by myself.
Fuck, this is really happening. It's already started, and by God I'm going to see it through.
Right on time Sandra walks through the kitchen door into the living room, sneaking a look at me before moving forward to the rug and then turning to stand facing me, her feet apart and her hands behind her back. I can see the slight hitch in her breathing as she obviously tries to quieten her anxiety.
"Well done on your first instructions, babygirl."
I let the praise warm my tone, and watch its effect on Sandra - her tiny sigh of relief, the faint blush on her cheeks, the curl at the corner of her mouth. Some of the tension leaves her shoulders.
Good.
I decide to let her stand there for a bit longer, just to get used to what must be a strange feeling - standing in front of me, being watched. Complete silence envelopes us, broken only by the ticking of the wall clock as my eyes follow the rise and fall of her lovely chest beneath her soft cotton top.
Soon her breathing slows down as her nerves subside and then it grows deeper, fuller with her growing excitement.
So she likes being watched, my babygirl.
My next words, though spoken in the same calm, steady voice, break the silence and cause her to jump.
"Very good, babygirl. Now strip for me. I want you as naked as the day you were born, clothes neatly folded at your feet and all jewelry including your watch laid on top. When you're done please resume your position."
Sandra glances up to look into my eyes, and I catch the arousal written all over her face. She starts stripping, following my instructions without hesitation, sweetly submissive and incredibly sexy to watch. I can see she is torn between giving me a show, systematically stripping, and throwing all of her clothes off at once.
Methodical wins and I am treated to her luscious body slowly and surely exposing itself to my appreciative gaze. My body tightens as her tits are freed from her bra, and my gaze glides along the clear tan lines separating the milky-white orbs from her otherwise light-golden chest.
She must look sensational in that bikini
I think, and at the same time I note with satisfaction there's more than enough skin to color and leave my marks on, if I so choose. On the other hand her tits are so damn-near perfect it would be a shame to mar them... such delightful choices to make!
By the time her panties begin their journey South I am sporting a hard on a pole vaulter could have used. She steps out of them and folds them onto the neat pile at her feet.
She is completely naked now, and the soft light from the corner table adds an ethereal glow to her skin. She reaches back to release the catch on her simple gold necklace, the movement making her gorgeous breasts perk and lift and my mouth to water in response. While she fumbles with the catch I notice for the first time the peculiar-looking pendant that's been hiding in the valley of her chest under her T-shirt, but I can't quite catch its details. In another moment she's got it off and is bending down to put it on top of her pile of clothes, followed by her watch, and then stands upright again with her gaze firmly fixed to the floor.
This time when I break the silence it is in a lower, rougher, but equally steady voice.
"You look sensational, babygirl."
