LEARNING TO OBEY: HER FANTASY DENIAL
Ginny looked around Tom's bedroom. She had never seen it before, or his house, or his town. The room was very much like him, she thought, spare and masculine with its hard wood floor and simple furnishings. A few framed black and white photographs of trees and mountains, obviously chosen and hung with precision and care, decorated the walls. The queen bed boasted a surprisingly crimson bedspread that gave the room color - and made the bed its focal point.
Tom came in, carrying Ginny's overnight bag. He put it down and stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her, pressing into her. "Do you like what you see?"
Ginny pushed back, grinding her ass into him. "Yes," she said, "and I like what I feel."
Tom nuzzled her ear. "Are you up for playing tonight? Or are you too tired?" Traffic had been horrendous and Ginny had arrived two hours later than planned.
"I'm good," she said. "I had coffee at the rest stop."
Tom pulled away from her. "How are you feeling?" he asked. Ginny rarely drank coffee, and when she did it tended to make her emotional.
Ginny shrugged. "I mean, I was already nervous about meeting your sons tomorrow. Now I'm a bit more nervous about it. But it beat falling asleep on the drive."
Even without seeing Tom's face Ginny could follow his waves of thought. First, the disapproval of her driving while tired. Second, his acceptance that she had done what made the most sense in the situation. Third, his refocusing on her. He said, "They're excited to meet you. It will be fine."
Ginny refrained from rolling her eyes. She loved Tom, but part of loving him was recognizing his weaknesses, and one was that at times he could have the emotional intelligence of a gnat. They had decided together, now that they had admitted that they were in a "Relationship" rather than merely Dominant/submissive with benefits, that she would meet Tom's three sons first, and then he would meet her son and daughter. Tom's sons were young adults and out of the house, and the stakes were a little lower. Nevertheless, it was nerve-wracking.
"Don't drift away," Tom said. "Stay with me." He turned her around so that they were face to face. He pulled her towards him and kissed her, more sweetly than passionately. "I missed you," he said. Another kiss. "I love you." Another. "I want to fuck you until the only thing on your mind is the touch of my body." Another. "Do you want that?" He pulled back so Ginny could answer.
Ginny nodded. "Yes, Sir," she said.
"You want to play?" Tom confirmed. Most of the time they took the D/s roles that had first brought them together, but sometimes, recently, they had eschewed the roleplaying for sheer physicality.
Ginny nodded again. "Yes, Master."
"Are you wet for me?" When Ginny didn't answer immediately, Tom said, "You weren't fantasizing about naughty nuns or kidnapped spies on the drive?"
Ginny shook her head. "No, Master. I was worrying about tomorrow."
"Good," Tom said. "Tonight, everything you feel will come directly from me." He kissed her again, this time slowly, soulfully, one hand caressing the side of her neck, the other pulling him towards her. Ginny responded, wrapping her arms around him. Tom stopped. "No, slut," he said. "Put your hands behind your back." Ginny obeyed. Tom squeezed her breasts under her sweater. Ginny grunted a little. "That's right, my slut," he said. "Your pussy is starting to wake up now, isn't it?"
"Yes, Master," Ginny said. She spread her legs hopefully. Tom ignored that. Instead he unbuttoned her sweater, a prim librarian-like cardigan. He palmed her breasts again over her blouse. Ginny took a step in the direction of the bed.
"Stand still," Tom ordered. Ginny obeyed, but with a slight frown. Standing was her least favorite position, as Tom knew. "Don't pout, slut," he said. He continued to caress her breasts, but his touch was lighter than Ginny liked. She sighed. "And don't be impatient," Tom said. He kissed her neck, just above her collar bone, sending trickles of sensation down her.
Ginny leaned into the feeling. She imagined she was a captive on a pirate ship, her sensuality being tested by the captain before he sells her into slavery.
Tom pulled away from her. Ginny smiled at him, expecting him to ask where her mind had taken her. He had done this a few times lately, and she has adored sharing her fantasies with him, his responses making her trust that he knew and loved the darkest and best parts of her.
But Tom did not ask. Instead, he frowned at her. "Tonight, I want you to stay with me." At Ginny's blank look, he said, "No fantasies. Just me."
His words felt like a blow to Ginny. She clutched her hands behind her back. Her eyes filled unexpectedly with tears. "Yes, Master," she murmured.
"Ginny, look at me," Tom ordered her. Ginny looked up. "I love you. I love your stories. I love your fantasies. I love that you have the courage to share them with me." Ginny nodded, and smiled a little tremulously. "But tonight, I don't want you to go inside your head. I want you to let me give you pleasure. I want you to stay with me. Okay?"
Ginny nodded. "Okay, Master," she said.
"Take off your sweater and your blouse." Ginny obeyed, but passive-aggressively threw them onto the bed. Tom hated untidiness.
She was wearing a fancy black bra that barely covered her nipples. "Hands behind your back again, slut," Tom said. Ginny obeyed. Tom looked at the bra appreciatively. "Nice," he said. "Is this new?"
Ginny nodded. "I bought it for you, Master."
Tom kissed her on the lips. "Then let me unwrap it appropriately." He leisurely ran his fingers over the silky material, then finally pushed one of the cups down so that Ginny's nipple peeked out. He bent down, put his mouth around it and bit her gently. Ginny cried out. She could feel Tom's smile against her skin. He moved to her other breast.
Every time Tom squeezed one of her nipples with his hands or mouth, Ginny felt an answering squeeze in her pussy. But as he continued to worship her breasts, with no sign of interest in other parts of her body, her feet began to ache despite the running shoes she was wearing. She shifted a little, longing for the bed. She was in a large living room, forced to watch while her best friend was being molested. She shook her head as the man's hand moved up her thigh to-
Tom pulled back from her. Ginny opened her eyes that she had not realized she had closed. "Stay with me, slut," Tom said.
"Could we move to your bed, Master?" Ginny asked.
"No," Tom said. He lifted Ginny's knee and pulled her towards him. With her hands clasped behind her back she had to take a little hop to keep her balance, which somehow ended with Tom's cock pressed into her clit. Ginny gasped. She hooked her leg around Tom. "Who do you feel, my slut?" Tom asked.
"You, Master."
"Good slut," Tom said. He unentangled Ginny's leg from him. "Take off the rest of your clothes."
"Can I sit to take off my sneakers, Master?"
"Take off your pretty bra first."
Ginny complied. After she dropped her bra on the bed she turned her back to Tom and wiggled her ass, hoping to entice him. But Tom said, "Pull your jeans down to your ankles."
Ginny unbuckled her belt. She slowly unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and pushed them down. She tried to be sexy but she felt a bit ridiculous. She hoped Tom would like the black panties that matched her bra. She faced him again and put her hands behind her back without Tom asking.
"Come here, slut," Tom said. Ginny shuffled towards him awkwardly. Then Tom's forefinger was on her clit, outside her panties. Ginny gasped. He cupped her mound. "You've soaked your pretty panties, slut," Tom said. "Did you buy them for me, along with the bra?"
"Yes, Master.".
"And now you've soiled them," Tom said. "I may need to punish you for that." He paused. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, slut?"
"Yes, Master," Ginny said.
"Hmmm," Tom said. "Let the punishment fit the crime." He gripped the panties in front and back and pulled them up, until their thin strip was sawing a line from Ginny's clit to her ass crack. The pressure was right on the line between pleasure and pain.
But she protested, "Tom, they were expensive. You'll stretch them."
Tom frowned, but he stopped immediately. "Take them off," he said tersely. Ginny did not ask again if she could sit on the bed. She bent down to untie her sneakers, then stood up to kick them off. Her jeans came next, then her panties, but she kept her socks on.
"Socks, too, slut," Tom said.
Ginny took them off. "Can I get my flipflops out of my bag?" she asked. Her feet cramped easily and she absolutely despised standing barefoot. She wore flipflops like other people wore slippers. Did Tom know this? She wasn't sure.
"Is there anything in your bag you don't want me to see?"
Ginny shrugged. "It's messy. I just threw things in there. I was running late."
Tom tsked, but brought her bag over to the chair and unzipped it. He found her flipflops and handed them to her. Grateful, Ginny slid her feet into them. "Thank you, Master."
"Hands behind your back, slut." Ginny obeyed. Tom just looked at her for a minute. Ginny shifted uncomfortably. "You don't like that position?" Tom asked. Without waiting for an answer, he said, "We'll have to do something about that." He opened his closet door and brought out two Velcro cuffs that were attached by straps to a wooden dowel. Tom put the dowel over the top of the bedroom door and shut it. He pulled the straps until the dowel hit the top of the closed door, leaving the cuffs dangling at Ginny's shoulder height. "Come, slut," he said. He took Ginny by the arm and led her over to the door, turning her so her back was towards it. "Unclasp your hands," he said. Ginny obeyed. He attached the cuffs to her wrists. "The advantage to being in my own house is that I know how to set up my equipment."
"You've played with other people in this room?" Ginny asked, suddenly outside of the game.
Tom didn't answer immediately. He stood close to her and ran his fingers up and down her torso. "Yes," he said. "You know that I dated after I moved here, after my divorce. And you also know I haven't dated anyone else since I met you." He kissed her neck.
