She let the feelings rush through her, the hint of shame, the memory of how stupid she'd been and how awkward that felt, now. She knew she had been stupid, but as many times as she questioned what she'd done, she never wanted to take it back, to do it over again. Her insides clenched, the muscles along her channel so much stronger now than when Cos first entered her. She looked at the table, the memory of that particular spanking flowing back. That was when she'd turned a corner, when she'd really let go. She looked at the inlay; the memories of all the things Abby's knot had compelled her to do flooding one on top of the other.
Complicit was still there, the fragrance just as she'd remembered it, but she wondered if she was imagining it. Surely it can't still be active?
That would have been amazing, but it didn't matter, whatever it had done to her was permanent; smelling it again wouldn't change things. The fragrance prompted her memories, some still intense, others salty-sweet. Still, she looked over her shoulder to the cabinet, to her bedroom, knowing she could get rid of it once and for all when she wanted to. She felt a tug in her core and recognized it as Naomi. Nothing major, but given what time it was, it might turn into something. She couldn't do anything about it but hope it was nothing.
She closed the closet entrance behind her and looked through the octagon to the backyard, the perfume stirring up memories she thought she'd lost. She had thought it would be over once the job was done, but it had gotten so much crazier...
🕛⇜🕚⇜🕙⇜🕘⇜🕗⇜🕖⇜🕕⇜🕔⇜🕓⇜🕒⇜🕑⇜🕐
...the morning sun hit her face, the memory of last night's ceremony fresh and confusing. She had to pee, her lips burning a little, the memory of what she'd done, what she'd let him do...the tendril's white bud lifted from her core and she sighed. She had said she'd be his sex slave. She didn't know if that's exactly what she'd screamed, but whatever.
Servant cunt
was pretty much the same thing.
But that wasn't what Abby wanted
! She played with the thought, letting it tumble around in her half-sleep, as her pee tumbled into the water, her lips stinging from the flow. Maybe Abby hadn't really built the perfume. Emily was getting more convinced of that. The fragrance was an accident, a perfume that Abby could never have designed, a mixture that took a century to cook. Even if that wasn't true, she knew Abby hadn't meant anyone harm. She was sure of her theory, lightly blotting her labia, wincing at their tenderness. Emily studied herself in the mirror, her face wrinkled from the pillow.
You don't look any different!
She sniffed, thinking she should clean off, turning on the shower. But after lifting the nightshirt she stopped, staring at her body, smelling Cos's and her cum and reconsidered.
Live with it a little longer.
She let the shirt drop back across her buns, the fabric reminding her how sensitive they'd become, turning off the taps.
She looked into the bedrooms, Steph and Robert tangled together, sleeping. Noises from Barbara's room made her move quietly, peeking around the door to see Caroline and Bobby. He was on top, his naked butt moving; her hands down his back. She backed away, smiling; needing coffee. Cos wasn't due for another hour. She remembered the others would be coming later in the day; there was stuff to do in The Study. She glanced at the time, 8:07.
Fuck!
Three hours later than usual, but still she'd hoped to stay in bed longer. Luckily she didn't have practice until Tuesday.
She was still sitting in the kitchen, nursing her coffee, playing with her phone when Cos passed the window. She looked up at him, smiling, uncertain about their new relationship: He'd been so amazing, how he had pushed her to her limit, the edging, his confidence, owning her, and the gentleness and caring. An emotion wavered across his face before he smiled back.
"You good?" Nodded at the coffee. "Okay to grab some?"
"Sure! Yep. Almost perfect. You're here a little earlier than I expected." She paused, feeling her body reacting to him being so close to her. "Last night was amazing..." She felt her nipples hardening, poking against her t-shirt. "You?" The tendril stiffening a little. The need. So much need. So many questions about what she had committed to.
He nodded. "It was...it wasn't like anything...Em..." He turned and looked at her. "Uhhm. Yeah. Fucking amazing." He paused and stared out the window. "Not much left," he nodded up the stairs. "It's looking good to you?"
There. That look.
Wistful?
She stared at him and back to her phone. "You know," she said smiling. "I fucking can't remember what it looks like." She could barely smell the fragrance over their musk, a light perfume wafting from the back hall.
He laughed, his eyes staring at her just a heartbeat too long.
"I'm here to help. Trim? Some painting? What's left?"
I'm your slave now. What does that mean????
He looked back at the stairs, hesitating. "Yeah. You could paint your closet, need to put the trim on the bookcase. And the closet trim. Uhhmmm...Oh. We'll need to adjust the doors - both of 'em. I'll need your help with that." He sipped his coffee, his face relaxing, the look gone.
"You want to give me a tour? All I remember before I left to chill and get ready...for...was you working on the latch. And then...," the memory of what they'd done swept over her, "fuckkk. Cos. What the fuck did we do last night?" The intensity of the ceremony, the priests, her friends, Cos, it all roared back so hard, swelling inside, she dropped her phone, gripping the table's edge to keep from falling over.
"Em!" He reached out, spilling his coffee. "What the fuck!?"
She opened her eyes and saw his face, her need, the empty space where the tendril had been, filled instead with need. "Oh fuckkkk." She leaned into him, her lips pressed against his, warm, gentle, flowing down her throat, into her core. So much space. So much space. His hand rubbed behind her traps, up and down her spine, stoking the fire. The tendril lay limp in its pot. She pulled away. "I...I said some things...something...last night. I'm," the tendril pulsed at the shame she felt: his to use for however long. She swallowed, "I'm not sure what I said...You don't expect me to be your...slave...do you?" she whispered the words, all in a rush, frightened by what that might mean.
"Is that what you think you said?" He was smiling, his eyes twinkling and evasive. "My
sex slave
? No...no. I don't want that. Do you want that?"
She sighed, relieved.
"I think you said
servant cunt,
right? 'I will be your servant cunt today, tomorrow and for however long..." he stared at her, his eyes burning. "I remember
that,
and I'll hold you to it." His hands had slipped around her, hugging her into him.
Better than anything I could have wished for.
She stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked. The way he had taken her, owned her, she wanted to feel that again, to feel him pushing into her. But what did he think those words meant?
We need to get that straight!
The negotiator in her concerned she may have extended the original contract.
Two weeks, except if there were hidden conditions and assuming they worked the time schedule.
But they hadn't, and it wasn't quite two weeks anyway.
Unless agreed to by mutual consent.
