Joy couldn't stop touching her new collar. It was a simple half-inch wide band of brown leather, fitted with just enough room to put four fingers under it snugly, and closed with a flat metal clasp at the back.
The leather felt soft and warm and
right
around her throat.
Her life with Lawrence had been quieter the last few days. She was on the placebo pill stage of the packet all through her period, and although she'd been occasionally moody and reserved, they'd laughed together and shared their favourite shows, eating popcorn with the projector screen rolled down. It felt good to be together. Like they'd been living like this for years, instead of days.
He had been true to his word, though. He'd used her mouth and had her stroke him with her hands, but he hadn't even touched between her legs since he put up the calendar 8 days ago.
It had been torturous at first, then she'd gotten used to it. But now, with the feeling of his ownership on her throat, a renewed need was building in her belly, making it difficult to focus on her schoolwork.
She was trying to review sample exams for commercial law, but her eyes kept drifting back to the calendar on the wall, filled with X's that might end soon. Tonight and tomorrow she'd take the last two pills in the packet, then she'd make a decision.
She'd promised herself she would decide, but it seemed impossible to consider it--having a baby, before even finishing her undergrad degree. Wasn't that something women only did by accident? Wasn't it shameful?
She forced her fingers away from her collar, but was still acutely aware of the feeling in her lower belly. Its ache for him was constant now.
Lawrence would be home soon from work. She decided to have a shower to reset, and then maybe start making some dinner.
~~~
Joy was naked in front of the mirror, with the clasp of her collar turned to the front. There was no obvious mechanism; the metal clasp was smooth and flat, with only a very fine seam and small circular indents along each side.
She couldn't bathe with it on, but she couldn't remove it by herself.
She pondered putting her clothes back on, since Lawrence might be home late. But then she heard his key in the lock.
It was a good time to turn the shower on, and when he came in, she was standing with her hand in the stream, checking the temperature.
"I couldn't--" she touched her collar with her dry hand.
Lawrence nodded and stepped closer, pulling something shiny from his pocket and bringing it up to her throat. With a soft but solid-sounding click, the mechanism released. He slid the collar away and set it on the nearby countertop, and returned the tool to his pocket.
So it needed a sort of key. But it hadn't looked like a key, and there was no keyhole she'd been able to find in the clasp. She was curious, and her gaze lingered on his pants pocket.
"Let me get in first, kitten. I'll wash off the hospital and then you can join me." He started setting his clothing aside, piece by piece.
Joy blinked. Was that where he worked? At the hospital?
It made sense he always wanted to shower right away, then.
"What do you do, for work?"
"Radiology." He stepped into the shower and closed the glass sliding door.
"You do x-rays and stuff?" She spoke up a bit more over the falling water.
"Yes. And stuff."
She pondered that for a moment. Lawrence never offered much more than what she asked for, in conversations about him. But that's just how he was: direct and to the point.
She sat down on the closed lid of the toilet, watching him through the wet glass. He cleaned himself systematically, from head to toe with just water first, then did a second round with soap.
Head, shoulders, arms, torso, legs, feet. Top to bottom, right to left.
Joy smiled. It was an intimate thing to know about a person.
Eventually he finished, and turned slowly, rinsing off remnant suds. "You can come in."
She did, and he stepped past her to let her take his place under the water. It was wonderfully warm, and her shoulders relaxed immediately.
Then his hands were on her, soapy and smooth, sudsing up around her neck and down to her collarbone. He was gentle, but the feeling was oddly taboo. Like he was cleaning a pet, or an object.
He stepped away for a moment and she heard the pop of her shampoo bottle opening, and smelled the vibrance of oranges filling the shower. It was a smell she adored, and she stayed still for Lawrence as she heard him set the bottle aside, then rub his hands together.
He used more shampoo than she normally would. It made suds so dense she could feel their weight as he scrunched and massaged her hair and scalp, while fresh water flowed over her chin and chest.
When he leaned her forward again to rinse, one of his arms slid down to her ribs and then around her, until his hand reached her sternum and his body pressed against her back.
She could feel his erection.
Suds flowed down her shoulders and between their bodies, but he ignored them, with one hand on her chest and one stroking in her hair. His breath was heavy near her ear, and soon hers was heavy too. She arched slightly in his arms, pressing back against his penis, to feel it, to let him know how much she craved him.
"Not here, kitten."
He seemed to shake himself from his thoughts, and returned to washing her as systematically as he'd washed himself. Hair, shoulders. Right arm, then left. In each armpit he paused, paying special attention to her axillary hair and letting his fingers linger and play. Eventually she jerked away, ticklish, laughing.
He smiled when she turned to face him, but he continued all the same, over her breasts and her sides, then her tummy.
The taboo feeling returned, which she pondered for a moment and then laughed at herself for. She'd asked him to pee on her once, and hadn't felt this way then. But why not?
As his hands slid around to her back, he pressed his lips to hers and slid his tongue between them.
Her heart raced, and her skin tingled just beneath the surface. She pressed her own tongue forward to dance with his, feeling his strength and warmth. Saliva mingling.
Nothing else mattered. He could dirty her and clean her again. He could explore every part of her with his hands and claim each piece. She was
his
.
The water vibrated like thunder around them, drowning out the world.
The ache was so strong now.
His body so close. His penis swollen against her thigh.
Her shape melting into his.
The pills didn't matter. She could leave them behind for this. For his body filling the spaces he'd carved in her.
And he was meant to carve more. Her body was made to take his semen, to grow it inside of her.
She was pressing to him now, squirming, with her leg climbing his thigh. Their arms wrapped around each other in close embrace.
When his tongue withdrew, he kissed her lips again softly, then disentangled from her.
