45
After Master's visit and talk, trying to concentrate on work in the afternoon seemed as difficult as it had ever been. The plug inside me intensified my sensations, but anticipating the conversation he wanted me to have -- insisted that I have -- that really made me tremble.
If I had to confess to enjoying being plugged so much that I actually added the toy to the torment I was already feeling, I knew that I'd have to confess to the truth that I had toys like that plug in the house. Of course she'd ask if there were other toys. I didn't want to be lying any more. Now that she was taking a role as my Mistress, the secrets were something I truly wanted to leave behind me, but I didn't want to ruin things by reminding her of my past failures.
I decided on impulse to go downstairs and bring all the toys and devices and clothing that I owned upstairs. I wanted to see it all. I thought that perhaps I could decide, piece by piece, which I might dare to confess owning and which I would get rid of instead. It was a surprisingly heavy load and it looked like so much when I spread it all out on the kitchen table.
There were cuffs and a collar and leash. There were blindfolds and gags. There were cock rings and a chastity cage and nipple clamps. There were the dildos and the plugs -- by category, there were more toys for my ass than anything else. That seemed telling, and of course the toys facing me didn't even include the one inside me at the moment.
Then there was the clothing. I had my own maid's uniform, as well as the cheerleader's costume and the schoolgirl outfit. There were panties and stockings and bras, and there were those breast forms, and the wig. This collection was telling so much about me.
It was a challenge, but I decided that the remote plug needed to go. It wasn't so much about hiding it or denying it, but I felt like it mirrored Master's decision to honour the collar now locked around my neck. That plug, perhaps more than anything else, was a sign of a personal link or connection to him.
Looking at all the remaining items, I felt a rising terror building inside me. Just like with the plug inside me, I was going to have to explain and confess to my wife and Mistress exactly why each one of these things was arousing and affecting for me. Those weren't the kinds of things I tried to define very often, even more myself. I just tended to know what caused me to slip into a subspace, and I went with them. It was hard to determine if I was more nervous about admitting I'd purchased all these things, or explaining why they turned me on.
I felt her control over my body and my life so powerfully in that moment. I had no way to release the tension or excitement I was feeling. I couldn't stroke and I certainly couldn't cum. I also couldn't escape the constant teasing of my physical situation. I could feel the way the panties held me, and the way every bit of feminine clothing hugged me differently. The plug felt so large, making itself known with every step or shift in my posture.
I moved all the toys upstairs and laid them out on a towel in the guest bedroom. I finished work, or gave up trying, and switched to tidying up the house and preparing dinner. When Jane finally arrived home, I was so happy to see her, and I hung on every little sign of her appreciation and approval. She entered the house in what seemed like a very good mood and, while she was surely tired from the long day as she often was on Mondays, smiles came readily to her lips.
I served her, but we still ate together. There were a number of times I had to stand and fetch things, such as wine to refill her glass, and every time I returned to my chair, I felt the plug reminding me of my duty of openness.
"I have something I would like to talk about, Mistress," I said at last, as I carried her wine glass to the living room after we finished.
"That sounds serious. What is it?"
"I hope you know that I'm so happy with what's happened with us. I love this collar, and I love the control that you've taken. It's still so strange and amazing, and I get a shiver every time I look down and see the rings and the tattoos."
"That sounds almost like there is a 'but' coming at the end of that," she said.
"Not at all. It is just that I want to show you how much I love you through all of this. I don't want to repeat any mistakes."
"What kinds of mistakes are you afraid of?"
"I never knew how to talk to you about the things in my mind or my imagination. I convinced myself that you wouldn't understand, and every time some small attempt on my part didn't work out the way I wanted to, I convinced myself that I shouldn't have tried. I don't really know how we got here now, but I can see that I was wrong. I just want to be yours, to serve you and to be with you, and to be all this for you." I blurted out, gesturing towards myself and my outfit.
"Tell me, hun," she said softly.
"I want nothing more than to serve you, Mistress, in the ways, shapes and forms that you want. That I know. In the past though, as I have learned about the kinds of things that you know that I've been interested in, well, I know that there are specific details that really affect me. They make me feel submissive and kinky and aroused. I want to tell you about them so that you know me. It doesn't mean that I just want you to be doing the things that I like, but I want you to know so that you can make your own decisions."
"I see," she nodded. "What kinds of things?"
"For one, butt plugs, Mistress. I added one to the outfit I wore today, Mistress, because when I have one in, it makes me feel so instantly and totally submissive and slutty and teased and used, and it felt perfect to feel that way today."
"Show me," she said.
I stood and turned my back to her, and I lifted up the back of my skirt, tugged down my panties and leaned forward. I reached back and pulled at my ass cheeks until I was confident that the base of the plug was visible.
"I see," she said at last. "And this is something that you already had?"
I didn't move, as I had been waiting for her commands, so I couldn't see her face.
"Yes, Mistress," I answered. "That's part of what I wanted to be open about, not wanting to make those same mistakes. In the past, I came to believe that I had to explore my kinky desires on my own. Every once in a while, as part of that, I would buy a certain kind of toy or something, to be able to feel them rather than just dreaming about them."
"And you still have these things?"
"Yes, Mistress. I do, but I don't want to hide them, or anything like them, from you anymore."
"Show them to me," she said.
Still not able to see her face, I stood upright and let her up the stairs and into the doorway of the guest bedroom. Seeing them all again, laid out like that, it seemed so much. I could look over now, to see her, but her expression gave nothing away.
"Tell me about them," she instructed. "Tell me how they make you feel."
I'm sure that I stammered and stuttered, as I tried to get it all out. Even with my day of planning, it felt strange and humiliating to try to put my deepest kinky emotions into words. I talked about how the plugs made me feel so full and teased, hinting at the influence gay panic had on the idea of anything in my ass being used to arouse me. Explaining the dildos was similar, but perhaps even worse. She compared them to the ones she had purchased, and I found myself admitting that I had sucked them as well as using them in my ass. Explaining blindfolds and gags seemed simpler, as the idea of giving up control while losing one of your senses or the ability to speak or respond was a clear bath of reasoning.
I dimly remember telling her about how the nipple clamps made me feel so sensitive, and how playing with my nipples like that was almost a substitution for stroking, when my cock was locked up.
