Mina met me at the car so we could ride home together. The last couple of weeks had been hell for me because of my boss, and I was rapidly getting to the point of pulling the pin. In truth, I had other things on my mind too, which didn't help as I tried to stay focused in project management meetings for the boss's latest investment. His baby, he called it: a redefinition of the term 'wellness retreat', the luxury spa he'd sunk his entire fortune into. He was effusive and engaged in every detail as the handover day arrived. For my part, I was just going to be glad to see it turned over in a few days to its hand-picked management team and off my daily schedule.
Waiting by the car, watching my beautiful girlfriend saunter up to me in her short skirt and tight black cotton polo-neck, I was reminded of my other management challenge.
"Hi babe," Mina grinned, going up on tip-toes in her low heels to peck me on the lips.
"You're late," I replied and watched her expression change.
This was what we'd been doing now for a month. I'd made the decision and I'd stuck to it, being rigorous and relentless in enforcing the thirty-three days of denial for the curvaceous woman standing in front of me, now waiting demurely with her hands behind her back for my next words. The pose accentuated the ample cleavage underneath the tight black top.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled, "I just got caught...."
Her voice trailed off. She knew by now that I wasn't looking for excuses.
"Get in," I said.
I opened the passenger door for her. Just because I'd enjoyed the last month relentlessly shaping and moulding her into my helpless sex slave didn't mean she didn't deserve my respect. Ironically, despite the denial and humiliation, it was little acts like opening the door for her that made all this work. I knew it gave her the reassurance.
My eyes lingered on the soft, rounded curve of her rear in her skirt as she slid into the passenger seat. I walked around to the driver's side and tried to put the stresses of the day out of my mind. The boss had booked me into an eight o'clock meeting in the morning, but until then I had a different job to do. I swung myself into the driver's seat and we pulled out of the car park.
"I'm really sorry Cam. I know I need to be on time. Gabrielle nailed me on the way out."
I threaded through the traffic in silence. I wasn't upset with her, though when I glanced in her direction I could see that she was worried. It was part of the way we were now, ever since Mina had suggested the lifestyle change and willingly submitted to a month of orgasm denial. I needed to keep her guessing, I knew that aside from the background ache I engendered in her from our tease sessions each morning, it was the uncertainty of when and how severely she would need to suffer for any misdemeanour that added the extra spice for her. Initially, I had found it exhausting, but I had been able to automate parts of the burden and we had settled into a routine.
"Take your top off," I said as I made a right-hand turn onto the main road.
Mina hurried to obey, pulling her polo-neck up over her head and folding her arms tightly over her chest. I looked across at her, appreciating the view of my cute girlfriend in a plain black bustier. We'd settled on it as an item of clothing she could wear in the car, in public, without raising too many suspicions, though if anyone did take a second look it would be obvious that the sexy woman in the passenger seat was sitting there in lingerie.
I also noted that the collar was fastened around her neck.
"Still wearing it?" I asked, "I thought you were trying to go without."
Mina made a sour face.
"I had to put it on just after ten."
"Why?"
"I went to the toilet."
I laughed softly.
"Surely you can pee without getting horny?"
"Not with the latex panties you put on me. I did my business but then when I pulled them up I just brushed the front with a finger."
"And that was enough?"
"Cam, a light breeze is enough at this point. It was agony, getting all the way back to my desk to get the collar out of my handbag."
I smiled, which only seemed to increase Mina's discomfort.
"How are you feeling, down there?" I asked.
"Fine. Normal."
"No more discomfort?"
"No."
I felt down between her legs, reaching until I could feel the slick, hot latex of her panties. Beneath the smooth material, I could feel the softness of her pussy lips but also several hard points embedded in her flesh.
"I think you're nearly ready."
"Ready for what?"
"You'll see."
She had initially baulked at the idea of piercings, but I had managed to convince her over several sessions of merciless edging to accept that it was in her future because I wanted her like that. I didn't tell her why, even when I booked the session at the body piercing salon. I had the sense that Mina didn't expect me to follow through, even up until the hour of the appointment. When we pulled up at the front of the salon, it took Mina a full minute to get out of the car and accept that her boyfriend wanted her body to be modified to his specifications for a purpose that she wasn't allowed to know.
At the salon, the owner, a woman in her mid-fifties, had cocked an eyebrow when she was told what I wanted, but she'd been businesslike and professional. I could still recall how Mina had gripped the arms of the chair as the piercing needles went through her lips, to be replaced with a set of four steel pieces like stud earrings, two on each side.
She had seen the needle for her clit piercing, and I remembered the look of incomprehension on her face as the woman spread her gently with her latex-gloved fingers. There was a part of Mina that didn't understand what was happening to her, why she was letting herself be pierced. She asked me later if I had made her do it, somehow, with a post-hypnotic suggestion. When I told her the truth, she looked more disbelieving: I hadn't meddled at all. Mina was simply in the chair because I asked her to, because I wanted her to be pierced. She didn't understand why she'd just given in. After it was all done, she sat in the chair for a while, legs spread, looking at what had been done to her: two sets of studs in her labia and a vertical bar inserted into her clit, just the bottom silver ball peeking beneath her clitoral hood.
That was a few weeks ago. Now, sitting in the car, Mina grumbled, "I guess I'll see. I seem to do whatever you tell me. You really have me wrapped around your little finger."
"Which is just exactly where you asked me to put you. And now I've finally done it, you seem to be complaining."
"No, I'm not," Mina replied hastily, back-pedalling, "Thank you for the collar."
