I Have An Idea Ch. 05

His orgasm was like Christmas, long for the waiting and gone too quick. If it had been left to him, it would've been one long day of having her spread out as a buffet while he cuddled, nuzzled, fucked, teased and touched every part of her, rolling her over every hour to access a fresh tapestry of soft skin. But it hadn't been left to him. His "release day" was arranged by her. Not executed by her, but it was her plan he followed.

They would see a show, she explained, a play, a comedy show, but not a movie. Movies were too easy. It would be some type of event where they needed tickets at a proper theater and they got to dress up. There would be dinner, drinks and dancing. He chose where for the dinner and drinks, and he paid. She chose how long they danced.

She took it easy on him and didn't torture him too much.

That was followed by their stroll down the river walk, where he told her how special the place had become to him. Special? Jim had long since started behaving as a romantic, but this was a little different. The river walk, the spot around the bend where lamplight flickered, which had since been fixed much to his dismay, was where he had first felt an intense passion for her. It was the place where he realized that her "hands off" policy was driving him to want her like never before. He even called it the spot where he fell in love with being in love with her.

She glowed the entire time. She couldn't stop smiling. She couldn't stop hanging on to his arm. She gave him every kissed he reached for and offered more. At the end of the evening, she offered her body to him, and he devoured her, the first time quickly, barely making it more than a minute, but after a short recovery, he took her again and again until he couldn't take her anymore, until she was so droopy-eyed that he felt guilty asking for another go.

He spent the rest of the week free of rules. He didn't have to stay with her at her apartment. He could touch himself as much as he liked. He indulged. Some. He indulged on Monday night. It was hollow. The pornography was still there, still titillating, and he had no problem making it work, but it wasn't her. She had somehow become so much more intense than anything he could dream up. She was what he wanted in his mind and in his heart.

He'd never before considered what his heart wanted when his hard-on made requests.

At the end of the week, he smiled at her, meeting her at the front door, dinner warm in the oven and renewed his offer of having her move in with him.

She blushed and replied, "Let me think about it."

His grin was an ear to ear presentation. "You do that. I'm clear headed. I jerked off twice this week." He grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her willingly into his embrace, burying his nose in her hair and kissing the top of her soft head, feeling her melt against him. "I know what I want, and it's you."

"Maybe you're not clear enough though. It's only been a few days."

He peeled her off of himself and gazed deep into her eyes. "You can keep making excuses, but I know how I feel and you won't convince me I feel any other way."

She frowned, shook her head. "Maybe you just want it because you're still thinking about the game."

"I want it because I love you."

She shook her head again. "But if this is all about our little game--"

"I think we both know it's more than a game, Ella."

"But this way you could play more, every day. This more than a game thing we're doing, I'm not sure where it's heading."

"I do."

Her head snapped up, her eyes flashing with concern. "You do?"

He nodded. "Yes. I've been looking it up online. There's all kinds of names for it, but the short answer is you take charge of the relationship, of me, and I behave like a good boy and give you everything you want and generally make you feel happy and loved and special, which you are. You are very special."

"But--" she tried.

"I want you to be happy, and you figured out a way for me to make that happen. I don't know how you figured it out, if it was that Divine Tantra site or what, but you being in control of me is exciting and intense and I love feeling like I'm some, uh, worshiping slave pampering his goddess."

Her blush deepened.

"Ella, you've wanted this. You've been working on it, and so have I. This is working. We're happy. The only time I'm usually happy in my relationships is in the first six months, then everything gets boring. I get boring, and selfish and lazy. I mean, for a guy, once you've got the girl, what's left? Your job is done. But with this I feel like every day is a new adventure. I mean, taking care of you even got a little routine, but I was truly happy doing things for you. In fact, it even excited me, turned me on. The other day I almost passed out because you dropped your wet towel on the floor in the bathroom and didn't say a word about it. You just expected that I would pick it up. It was like a mental orgasm. I was under your thumb, wrapped around your little pinky finger, doing what you wanted without you so much as asking or even having to order me. I was in heaven. I want more of that, but, um, I forget, this isn't about what I want. So, I'm asking: What do you want?"

It was a lovely speech.

He was earnest. She couldn't deny that. She was having doubts. Why? He was right. Things had been amazingly good between them, but going forward meant continuing to notice that she was changing and she wasn't sure she liked the changes. Going forward meant letting all the qualities that were usually reviled in women come to full blossom. Bossy. Bitchy. Mean. Using her feminine wiles, her sexuality to manipulate him to her own end.

Did she truly want to be that type of person?

When he hadn't an orgasm for a couple of weeks, he couldn't resist her or even tell her she was being too bossy, too mean. The harsher she was, the more he loved it. It would be up to her to keep a lid on that.

Would he become less than a man to her? He hadn't so far, but he had become somewhat childlike, always looking for her approval, always looking to please her. By the end, she wasn't doing much, she admitted. A smile here, a friendly little pat there. Her role consisted of her sitting on the couch and bouncing her heel in front of his face, watching him kneel, and giving him instructions in a soft tone that made him shiver with excitement.

On the other hand, she'd never been so turned on in her life. She'd gone from feeling that her libido was too low to thinking about sex every ten seconds. She was practically a man.

Every ten seconds, Jim on his knees. Every ten seconds, smiling because he was texting her. Every ten seconds, Jim gazing up at her begging to serve her.

"Jim, I'll think about moving in with you, but for now, we'll continue the way we are."

"The way we are right now?" His face displayed concern.

She patted his face. "It's your choice, but if you choose to go back to our 'game', I'll be honest with you . . . there will be no end date."

He blushed. He went pale. He licked his lips.

She couldn't be sure, but she thought she felt his erection pressing into her.

"And," she continued, "there is the little matter of your frequent touching."

He nodded, head bowed. "Okay."

"I'll give you until Monday to decide, but if you decide yes, then we'll need to get measurements."

He swallowed. "Measurements?"

She nodded. "Can you guess what for?"

He nodded, his face tight, his lips white. "Yes."

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Is it . . . a chastity device?"

She smiled. He had been doing research. She patted his face and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "You're such a good boy."

* * *

Her anger came to a full boil. She was hurt. She resented him like Hell. She could only sit and silently fume. His eyes flashed with concern, and confusion. She sent him away, no touching, no talking. She had to think. Maybe she needed to contact her friend.

Jim had knelt before her, all smiles and swollen with pride, and informed her that he'd ordered the chastity device.

Almost at once, she had felt a flush of anger rush into her face. "You . . . what?"

"I ordered it! I spent the last week researching it online. You know . . . checking out reviews, what people said on the forums. Hell, I made a spreadsheet! I had to take some measurements, you know, each day to get an average so I knew what size and all that."

She blinked. "You . . . ordered it?"

He nodded with the broadest smile he could manage. "Yeah! And I put an expedite on it, so it should be here in a few days."

He could not have been more shocked when she sent him away, wordless, practically breathless.

For the rest of the day, she sat on her anger, let it steam inside her. She was short with him. She didn't ask, didn't order; she commanded.

"Make me some tea."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Ordinarily, this would've excited him, but the anger in her eyes worried him.

He tried apologizing for whatever he'd done. She asked him if he knew what he was apologizing for. He didn't. "Go away."

He looked around. "Um . . . where?"

"I don't care. Make yourself busy. I shouldn't have to tell you every little thing."

He gulped and found something to do. He busied himself in the yard, pulling weeds, trimming branches, doing something physical and staying out of the house, out of her way, trying to figure out where he'd gone wrong.

In bed that night, he'd put his hand on her arm. Her body was cold and tense. She rolled away.

He'd had enough.

He got out of bed, walked around the end and knelt in front of her.

She was tempted to roll away from him, but instead, she watched him coolly and waited.

"Ella," he said softly, "I don't know what I did wrong. I know you're angry. I'd like to apologize, but I'd . . . I'd appreciate help figuring out what I did to piss you off."

She felt her cold exterior cracking almost immediately. Still, she resisted the urge to warm up to him again. "You can't even guess?"

He nodded and studied his fingers as they fiddled with each other. "I would guess that you don't like the fact that I ordered the chastity belt. Maybe, you didn't really want me to order one? It freaks you out? Maybe it was just something you were saying, but it was more of a fantasy for you and you didn't mean--"

"No, Jim," she interrupted. "It wasn't a fantasy. You ordered it without even consulting me."

He blinked. His throat bobbed. "Oh."

She stared at him, her tongue still, her lips still, her body still, her eyes boring into his.

His eyes darted down to her cleavage just peeking out from beneath the sheets, from beneath her camisole. "I . . . I thought you'd be happy. Honestly. I thought you told me to order it."

She propped herself up on her elbow. "When did I tell you to order it, Jim?"

He blinked rapidly. "Well, you didn't tell me exactly--"

"Oh?"

"No, but . . . you hardly every just come out and tell me to do anything. You always sort of hint at it. You mention something offhand, and I've been trying to be better at figuring out what you're trying to say. So, you know, if you hint at something or give me a little nudge, I'm trying to do better figuring out what it is you want."

She blanched. He had a point, and she knew it. In the past, they had arguments that were just the opposite of this. She would mention something, and he wouldn't do it, wouldn't get it, wouldn't even get so much as a hint about it, and she would be so hurt, so frustrated. He would explain that she hadn't "told" him what she wanted and he couldn't read her mind.

Here, he was struggling to do just that, to understand what she truly wanted, and she'd gotten mad at him for it.

Still, she could hear her friend whispering in her mind. 'It's okay to admit you've made a mistake, but that doesn't mean he still shouldn't be punished. It sounds cold and wrong, but he'll thank you for it.'

She shook her head and decided to put that theory to the test, even though she couldn't believe he would go for it.

"I see. That's understandable. I appreciate the effort, but now let me explain how you made me feel. You made me feel like this is all really just a game to you--"

He opened his mouth to object, but she flipped up a finger and said, "Hush. I'm talking."

He shrank, turned pale, and she noted his erection came to full mast. She was beginning to see the advantage of having him naked; he couldn't hide his arousal.

He'd already confessed that he loved it when she "hushed" him so sternly.

"You made me feel like it was just a game that you could quit anytime, where when you decided to make your own decisions or bend the rules, you could. It really hurt me that you made this decision without me. I resented you for taking that away from me."

"Ella," he whispered shyly, "it had been a week and you hadn't said anything more about it."

She stared at him in silence. He squirmed, swallowed, breathed shallow breaths and whispered, "Sorry."

"Go to the corner."

It surprised even her. She wasn't sure where it had come from, the decision to put him in the corner like a disobedient child, but it felt right.

His head snapped up, his eyes checking hers to see if she was serious, then after only a moment, he walked over to the counter and slouched miserably.

"Knees, please," she whispered, and got a thrill watching him obey instantaneously. "Hands behind you. I don't want to see any touching."

He knelt in the corner while she stared at the ceiling and thought.

He knelt. He knelt and he thought and became acutely aware of his erection, of his knees pressing into the carpet, of her presence in the bed behind him. He listened to each quiet shift of her body, the whisking of the sheets, the compression of the mattress.

After an eternity that was probably only a few minutes, she called to him. "Jim?"

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"Are you ready to listen now?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good boy. Come here, please."

He stood and walked back over to her and dropped to his knees, so close his chest was touching the edge of the bed.

She smiled at him. "As I was saying, you hurt my feelings and you deprived yourself out of a special moment between us. I appreciate that you were trying to obey me, but I think the truth is that the idea of being put in a chastity belt turned you on so much, you got too eager and decided to just go do it, not because it was what I wanted, but because it was what you wanted, and you were impatient."

He bowed his head and nodded. "Shit. You're probably right. I'm sorry, Ella."

She placed her hand on his cheek and stroked his mouth with her thumb. "Thank you, but you can apologize after your punishment."

"May I speak for a moment?"

That struck her. He'd never asked for permission to talk before. It made her feel very powerful. It also made her realize how very submissive he was feeling. She swallowed and tried to keep her tone firm. "Go on."

"I have a solution to this. I did the research already, so what I could do is to present it to you. I could show you all the pros and cons of the different belts I looked at, show you the measurements and the graphs."

She giggled. "You made graphs?"

He was such a guy, such a logical, methodical guy.

He nodded, grinning. "I couldn't help myself. Anyway, I could show you the top three and let you pick. When the belt gets here, if it's not the one you picked, I can send it back and get the right one."

She thought about it, smiling. "I'd like that."

His smiled broadened. He turned and kissed her fingers softly. "I'm sorry, Ella. I really am. I let my eagerness get the better of me."

"That's sweet, but I already told you, you can apologize after your punishment."

He blinked. "What is--please tell me it's not another three days of not touching you."

She smiled. It was hard to resist the feelings of being desired and needed. With one comment, he'd made her feel so sexy and aroused. Still, it wasn't just about his self-control, it was also about hers.

"No, Baby. I don't think what you did was quite that bad and you explained it well and there was some truth in what you said. I'm learning to be a little more direct with you, and I love that you're working so hard to understand what I want. I think some corner time will be enough."

He grabbed her hand and pressed his lips into the center of her palm. "Okay."

She watched him shuffle back to the corner, smiling, her hand drifting helplessly between her legs, feeling her own arousal. Her soft, dry lips went wet within a second of her fingers touching them. They were already puffy and swollen, her clitoris peeking out and ready for play.

She moaned quietly and threw an order his way every now and then. "No talking. Think about me. Think about what you did."

"Yes, Ma'am."

He could hear her breathlessness, her ragged tone, her moans, the shifting of sheets. He'd never wanted to touch her and himself more than at that moment.

"When that little belt gets here, you're in for it. I'm going to lock you away."

He could imagine the click of the lock. He trembled, his cock actually leaking pre-cum it was so hard.

"I'm going to capture it, and from then on it's mine. No more touching. No more nothing. It's mine. I control it and it controls you and mmmmm--"

She rolled around the bed until she felt a small twinge of an orgasm and smiled. She worked on another one, a better one, even considered having his fingers or his mouth do the job, but she decided against it. Let him kneel and stew and want her. She wanted him to want her, to crave her.

She swirled her finger around her clit and felt that indefinable tension building. It was promising to be a good one, already making her toes curl. She slunk down in the bed and let her hand do what it wanted. She grabbed at her camisole, pushing the straps aside so she could grab onto her breast. She'd never liked rough breast play. They were far too sensitive for that, but now she twisted her own nipples, feeling a little touch of pain shoot through her, then she was flooding wet and almost wondering if she hadn't cum and not realized it. The tension was still there, making her thighs tremble. No, she had definitely not cum yet.

She gazed over at Jim in the dim light. He could hear her. He was listening to her every moan, every breath, short, ragged and quick. She felt her hand jerking in and out of herself, letting her wrist lean on her clit, giving it a good hard rub, and then the ecstasy was there, so close, cresting.

She bit her lip and willed it to come, slipper her fingers up to make direct contact with her clit, and pushing the button to set off the fireworks in her body. Her moan and gasp filled the room from one corner to the other. Jim was as still as a statute.

She smiled and let the orgasm crash over her, lessening with each wave, but still so supremely pleasurable.

Then she was laying there in the quiet, listening to her own breathing, smiling softly.

A moment later, an timeless eternity later, she awoke with a start. It was pitch black in the room and she realized she'd fallen asleep. "J-Jim?"

He groaned. "Yes, Ma'am."

"Oh, God! Did I fall asleep?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"How--how long have you been kneeling there?" She could still make out his form in the corner.

"I'm--I'm not sure. Maybe an hour?"

"Oh, shit! I'm so sorry, come here."

She rolled out of the bed and rushed to him. He groaned as he stood, his knees throbbing, the skin over his kneecap burning. He limped with her under his arm to the bed.

With tears in her voice, she whimpered. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I--I thought about it, but you told me not to talk."

"Oh, Jim! Please forgive me!"

He groaned and collapsed on to the bed, smiling. "No, it's okay. I don't have bad knees or anything, besides I liked doing it for you. It was sort of like I was suffering for you, sticking it out as long as I could."