A Saturday Morning Special

I kiss her all over her collarbone and shoulder. I hear the toilet flush and the water run. Cat's almost done in there.

"Such a good girl," I say to Shayleigh. "Cat will be very pleased."

She whimpers a little. I feel a twinge of remorse. Then I remember I have more to do.

"Okay, baby," I say, "go ahead and squeeze me out. Tighten up as much as you can."

She nods. I pull my hips back. My deflating cock slides out of her. I feel her tighten her asshole up. I know I need to move quickly. I stand up straight, and scan the rest of our disheveled bedroom. She needs a fresh plug.

I hear the door to the bathroom open, and then hurried footsteps on the carpet.

"Here you go, babe," Cat says to me. She hands me a plug. It's one of hers, not Shayleigh's; it has a rounded base instead of a heart-shaped one, and the faceted faux-gemstone is ruby red.

I get the lube and coat the toy. Cat rubs Shayleigh's back.

"Shayleigh, honey," she says, "I'm going to let you use one of my plugs today, since it's a bit of an emergency."

"Thank you, Professor Catherine," she replies.

I honestly cannot believe my ears. She sounds genuinely grateful. It's just a butt plug, for heaven's sake, and she was just denied an orgasm.

I guess maybe I just don't know what it's like to be a true submissive. It's a strange thing to say for someone who's had three of their wife's fingers up their ass on a regular basis for seven years -- not to mention nodding and agreeing to countless declarations that she owns my cock and my cum - but there must be something more to it.

Either that, or it's the other thing. Still, there has to be a reason why Shayleigh would bother with the Oscar-worthy performances in the first place. She must be getting something out of it.

I shake my head and place the plug at her entrance. I'm a thinker. I overthink. We have our weekly check-ins. Everyone seems happy. I know I am.

"Okay baby," I say, "I know this is a tough one. You have to try to stay tight while I ease this in."

She whimpers and nods. She works at her controlled breathing. Cat keeps rubbing her back.

"Did you cum, Shayleigh?" Cat asks.

Shayleigh shakes her head.

"No, Professor Catherine," she says. It's hard for her to get the words out. The pressure on her clenched anus is getting intense.

Cat gives me a questioning look.

"I really don't think she did, Cat," I tell her. "She was close, but she asked for help to stop herself."

The plug pushes in. Shayleigh grunts. We both rub her back for a little bit, and then help her up.

Cat turns her body and looks her in the eye. I walk around to her back, move in close, and gently caress my pet's body all over, giving her loving kisses everywhere I can reach.

Cat takes Shayleigh's face in her hands.

"Well then, I'm very proud of both of you," she says, "but especially you, Shayleigh. It makes me so happy that you have such discipline. You're a wonderful pet, and I'm a very proud owner."

"Thank you, Professor Catherine," Shayleigh says. I finally sense relief in her voice. She's cooling off, and savoring our love and affection in the meantime.

Cat gives her kisses all over her face, and moves in to caress her, too. We surround our pet, and give her the aftercare she needs and deserves.

Cat and I both know that receiving anal sex without climaxing is a particularly challenging experience. Cat knows firsthand. I've never been fully, officially ass-fucked, but I've gotten the gist of it. Shayleigh's natural submissiveness helps her through the experience, but she doesn't want to be used and discarded. That's not what she's all about, and neither are we. We make sure she knows we love and appreciate her.

"Okay, Shayleigh," Cat says, "you can stay up while you two get ready."

"Thank you, Professor Catherine," Shayleigh replies.

I guess that's why Cat takes the lead with our pet. The thought never would have occurred to me. Without that permission, though, I imagine that Shayleigh would've dropped back down to her knees. They really are quite the pair. I love them both.

The rest of the pre-run rituals aren't nearly as fun. Even though we're putting off the shower until afterwards, we still need to freshen up at least a little. Then we get dressed, drink our protein shakes, and head to the car.

Shayleigh's big collar gets removed first, of course, and it's replaced with her thinnest, subtlest day collar: a thin strip of black leather with a small catch in the back. Its only adornment is a small silver cat's paw dangling from the front. It was my idea. Cat had rolled her eyes so hard I thought they'd freeze that way. She warmed up to it eventually.

Cat's still naked when the two of us leave, and that makes it very hard to say goodbye.

We drive about thirty minutes away to our usual Saturday morning route. We live in what some would call a 'degenerate liberal-academic hellhole' in New England, so there's really no better place for us to enjoy our special relationship with Shayleigh. People are generally sexually progressive here, and New England also has its own special credo that serves as complement: 'live and let live, and leave me the hell alone unless something important is on fire.' Still, Cat has colleagues, department heads, and a host of other paid busybodies she needs to mind. We make some effort to keep up appearances.

Friday-into-Saturday hangovers keep our route mostly abandoned at this hour. The few who remain take exercise very seriously. They think nothing of the two of us running together. They respect anybody who's putting in the work.

I wish I could pause here and tell you all about those car rides. I like them so much better than the run itself. They're full of tiny moments that remind me of why Shayleigh is so special. They remind me of why I love her and like her. Alas, they don't involve sex. That would be very irresponsible. It pains me more than you can know, but I'll skip on ahead.

I spend about forty minutes watching Shayleigh's flexing ass and bouncing ponytail. It gets me very excited to know that there's a butt plug under those shorts and panties, and to know that I'm the one that put it there. Today, in particular, my cock is throbbing proudly due to its own special contribution. Shayleigh's running around with a load of my cum inside of her ass. That thought never really leaves my mind. When we cool down and hydrate, I can see that same knowledge written all over my beautiful pet's face. She likes having a sexy secret. She also likes that I'm devouring her with my eyes.

Maybe she's just the tiniest bit worried that I'll lose control, and do something to her out here in the open. Maybe a part of her wishes that I would, even though it would embarrass and terrify her.

I really want to. I want to take her just a little ways away from the route, pin her against a tree, slide my hand down her panties and shove my tongue down her throat.

Ah, what the hell.

"Shayleigh," I say, "can you come over here for a minute?"

I keep my voice casual, yet professional. She knows the tone well. It's the cover story. She's practically family. He's like an uncle to me. Running buddies for life.

I'll never know the exact moment she understands what's happening. She's smart, but also trusting. She's a deeply sexual person, but also rather shy.

I grab her wrist and pull her in front of me, so that the tree is behind her. I get in close and force her to back up. I put a hand behind her head so she doesn't actually hit the bark -- well, not with her head. Her ass can take it. The plug will give her a jolt, too. That's a nice bonus.

I see terror in her widened eyes, just as I expected to. Her face flushes -- which, strangely, it never does while we're running.

"No!" she says. It's a pleading whisper. "Someone will see!"

I let her go. I stop. I take a step back.

"Use your safe word," I tell her. "I really mean it, Shayleigh. This isn't a test. I won't be mad at all. I love you."

She squirms against the tree. She lives in her fear and embarrassment for a few moments. She looks away; she's really mulling it over.

She looks back at me. She's still afraid. She's still embarrassed.

She bites her lower lip. She pointedly declines to speak.

I move in again, and I'm all over her.

She doesn't really participate at first. I press my lips against hers and invade her mouth with my tongue. I slide my hand down her panties and find her pussy. It's warm and wet. My pelvis thrusts against my hand, which pushes it into her pelvis in turn. I massage her opening until my finger is slick with her juices, and then I enter her. She gasps into my mouth.

She keeps her hands down. She tries to stay completely passive. Her lips move, though, then her tongue, and then her hips. I've never felt her this hot before. The exercise, the fear, the embarrassment, the arousal, the denied orgasm -- they all add fuel to the fire surrounding my finger.

I move down to her neck. I'm so happy her big collar is off. I kiss it and lick it like it's the most delicious ice cream I've ever tasted, and also my last meal on Earth. Shayleigh's breathing gets heavy and erratic. Her neck is one of her spots. I find another inside of her pussy. The position of my hand inside of her panties is awkward, but my thrusting gives her clitty some contact with it too. My cock isn't quite ready to cum again, but it wants to. It wants to be where my finger is.

"Mr. Taylor," she pants. "Mr. Taylor, we have to stop. I might cum. I want to cum."

I don't want to stop, but I have to be a good owner. More to the point, I have to put up a united front with Cat. I gently withdraw my finger. I slide my hand out of her panties. I stare into her eyes; I can see that she's really suffering.

"Good girl, Shayleigh," I say. "I meant what I said. It wasn't a test before, but this part was. You passed with flying colors. I'm proud of you."

It's bullshit improvisation. I am a lawyer, though. I do have some skills.

I raise my finger to her mouth, and she dutifully opens. It's part of her training, and almost instinctive by now. She holds my gaze while she sucks her juices off my finger. Her eyes radiate submission. My cock throbs.

"Don't worry, baby," I say, "I'll get us home quickly."

She nods eagerly with my finger still in her mouth. I withdraw, and I take a moment to make sure her shorts aren't disheveled. I take the lead and break into a trot. If anybody sees us, they'll assume we just did a little off-trail running before linking back up to the usual route.

I'm true to my word. I get us home fast.

Cat's still naked -- or naked again, I suppose -- when we walk in from the garage. She's lounging on the couch in the open-plan living room, reading a paperback. It's always a little strange to see her reading without her glasses on, but then I remember that they're not actually prescription. She just knows they turn me on, and that they make her look more professional and severe while she's educating the future debt slaves of America.

Shayleigh gets on her knees as soon as the door from the garage closes.

"Up, Shayleigh," I say, and she obeys. I smile a little at the absurdity. A master's work is never done.

Cat sets the book aside and gets up. She greets us with a smile. I wink at her. She gets the message.

"Did you have a good run?" she asks.

"Yes, Professor Catherine," Shayleigh answers.

Cat comes over and gives me a peck on the cheek. She kisses Shayleigh on the mouth. She briefly invades it with her tongue as a formality of ownership. That makes it even sexier to watch. It sends the message that Cat doesn't merely act dominant; she is dominant. It's a fact of life for her and Shayleigh. It's a law of nature.

She ends the kiss, but cups Shayleigh's face with her hand. There's nothing violent about it, but I can detect a hint of menace. Maybe I'm projecting. More likely, Cat's just that good.

"Is there anything you need to tell me, Shayleigh?" Cat asks. "Did you cum while you were out 'running' with my husband?"

Shayleigh blushes again.

"No, Professor Catherine," she says. "I really wanted to, but I didn't."

Cat turns to me.

"She passed the test," I tell her. "She was a very good girl."

Cat didn't know about my little stunt in advance, but she's a smart woman. I'm certain she's already up to speed.

Just like that, the hand on Shayleigh's face is gentle and loving. The subtle threat vanishes.

"Well," Cat says, "it sounds like someone's on track to get an extra-special reward tomorrow. I think this might be Shayleigh's best week yet. Don't you, Jack?"

"Could be," I agree. "Not long to go now."

"Thank you Professor Catherine," Shayleigh says. "Thank you Mr. Taylor."

"Okay you two," Cat says, "I love you both very much, but you need showers. Shayleigh, you can stay up. Go on ahead and get started, and Jack will be in in a moment."

She pats Shayleigh's face and lets her go.

"Yes, Professor Catherine," Shayleigh replies, and then she's off.

When she's out of earshot, Cat takes a few moments to cover the bases.

"I'm a little impressed," she says in a low voice. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"I didn't think Shayleigh had it in her," I answer. "She didn't use the safe word. Maybe we should try to set something up for real, let her go all the way next time."

Cat considers it for a moment.

"Maybe," she says. "We'd have to scout a place. Seriously, nobody saw you, right?"

I shake my head. "Hangover central, babe. Not a soul around."

"Okay," she says warily. "I'll give it some thought."

I head to the shower. I start to feel guilty. I'm a pushover, like I said.

"Cat, honey," I yell out, so that Shayleigh will hear me too, "is Shayleigh allowed to cum during our shower?"

"Oh for heaven's sake, Jack," Cat yells back. She really sells it. I'm only sixty percent sure she's not completely fed up with my bullshit. "Fine. Yes, she can cum, if she's able. I swear..."

I don't wait to listen to the rest of her muttering. I'm sure it's pitch perfect.

I strip down in a hurry and get into the shower with Shayleigh. The water's nice and warm. She's already started washing herself, but I take the soap and loofah and do her whole body. She relaxes into it.

"Did you hear Cat?" I ask her.

"Yes, Mr. Taylor," she says. "Thank you, Mr. Taylor."

The gratitude and anticipation in her voice dispel my lingering guilt. I get to be the fun pet parent again. I get to give treats, and I'll receive a simple sugar rush of love in return. I think that makes me the simple one. I don't care. It feels great.

I kiss Shayleigh on her neck a few times, and give her toned young body a nice grope. Then I urge her to switch positions with me, so that the water's mostly hitting me instead of her.

"Now do me, Shayleigh," I command. She knows I mean 'wash,' and not something else. We both really, really need this shower.

"Yes Mr. Taylor," she says.

I close my eyes and let my pet tend to me. She's gentle and loving, but also very thorough. She takes extra good care of my cock, balls, and asshole. Even though it's not very sexual, I get to half mast just from the attention.

"Good job, Shayleigh," I tell her. "Now, I think it's about time you had an orgasm."

"How do you want me, master?" she asks.

My cock throbs and swells.

"God, how do I not?" I say -- not really to her, just as a horny thought spoken aloud. I really do mean it.

"Back up against the wall and spread your legs," I tell her. "I want your pussy."

I can tell she's a little confused, but she obeys nevertheless. When I get on my knees, she gasps.

"Mr. Taylor," she says, "It's not Sunday. I haven't-"

I get up and move in close. I shut her up with a kiss. It's forceful; I push my tongue in deep. I bring my hands to her small breasts and knead them possessively. I break the kiss and demand her eyes.

"Shayleigh," I say, "I'm a man, and I love pussy, and you have one of the hottest pussies I've ever seen."

My cock is almost completely hard. I push it into her and rub it up and down. I have no idea if it hits anything sensitive. I can tell from Shayleigh's eyes that it's having a psychological effect, if not a physical one.

"I love the way it looks," I say. "I love that you keep it nice and smooth for me. I love the way it smells. I love the way it tastes. I want to eat it - right now. That's what I want. That's how I want to make you cum.

"Who's your master, Shayleigh?" I demand. I make my voice as low and deep as I can.

"You are, Mr. Taylor," she says.

"Who owns your pussy?" I press.

"You do, Mr. Taylor," she says.

I know I have her now. The rest is gravy.

"Now," I finish, "are you going to let me eat this pussy, that I own, and make you cum, because I want to? Or am I going to have to spank you until you really believe what you just said to me?"

Shayleigh's eyes flash. She squirms.

"You can spank me whenever you want, Mr. Taylor," she says, "but I also want to be a good girl for you."

"Good answer," I rumble. It may have been gravy, but gravy is delicious.

Shayleigh leans back and grips the shower bar. I get back on my knees, and I feast.

Shayleigh's pussy goes from warm to hot in seconds. I kiss her inner thighs with force and urgency, then threaten the same to her outer lips before planting light kisses there instead. I lick everywhere except her clitty. I reach around behind her and massage her ass cheeks, spreading them as I do. She groans in pleasure.

I begin licking her inner lips, making my way slowly, inexorably to that swelling button above. I move one hand to the plug base, and get a partial grip.

Once my tongue is right next to Shayleigh's swollen clit, I start pushing the plug base up towards her hole in a steady rhythm. The two different kinds of stimulation hit her simultaneously, and her body can't decide what kind of noise to make in response. Her breathing gets heavy. I can barely hear it over the sound of the water, but I can sense her chest and her tummy heaving above my head.

I think she's close. Her juices are flowing out of her. Her hips start moving. I hear a little moan of frustration above me. I lift my eyes. She isn't looking back at first, but she senses my gaze and meets it. She's desperate. She's nearly out of her mind.

"Mr. Taylor," she pants. "Please. Finger."

I smile up at her and give a tiny nod, then look back down again. Keeping the eyes up like that is really uncomfortable; I honestly don't know how Cat and Shayleigh do it when they're sucking my cock.

Shayleigh's been out of the water's direct stream long enough; her natural juices have fully lubricated her channel. I switch hands behind her, doing my best to keep up the fucking rhythm with the plug.

I tease her opening, getting my finger as slick as I can. I keep up my tongue action near her clitty. I slide the finger in, and Shayleigh lets out a full-bodied moan. It doesn't take me long to find the right spot. I curl my finger towards her belly button, and combine that motion with a subtle up-and-down fucking one.

"I'm ready," she pants. "Clitty. God, please..."

I know what she likes. I know what she needs. I ease up the pressure with my tongue, but shift it ever-so-slightly so that it's directly in front of her button. I begin flicking quickly, so that the very tip of my tongue just barely makes contact.

Shayleigh's breath catches, and she goes dead silent. She cums. Her legs shake. Her hands tighten their grip on the shower bar. I feel the pressure around my finger. I feel the plug base move up and down on its own. It's a good orgasm. She's been waiting for it all morning.

I wait for the first gasp or moan; when I hear it, I move my tongue down, off her clitty, and slow down the pace. As she finishes her orgasm and enters the recovery period, I switch to gentle, loving kisses farther away from her overly-sensitive spot.