Pillow Top

"Am I ready, Master?"

She did a slow spin, arms a bit spread, teasing grin on her face. The black velvet skirt was cut high on her thigh, the emerald green silk shirt elegant and lovely. Seamed black stockings bridged the gap between skirt hem and the ruthless height of the black velvet pumps.

The teasing grin was because this had been a ritual of theirs since the beginning, over a year ago. Usually He found a little something to adjust, just for the pleasure of touching her...unbuttoning an extra button, adjusting a sleeve, or in this case, moving the small round lock that held the platinum chain around her neck back to the hollow of her collarbone where it belonged. She drew a small trembling breath as His fingers moved, unhurried, over the flesh, the pulse, the woman He'd claimed as His own.

They'd met through a mutual friend. She was as fresh and eager as He was seasoned and experienced. Wanting to harness, control, ride the waves of her energy, without tamping down the fiery intelligence, the strength of her. He'd begun with her slowly, nibbling around the edges of the control she'd craved, until she'd practically begged Him to take more and more...take her over, take her under...take her.

And now she stood before Him, asking for His approval of her choice of outfit.

"Stunning, as always, My beauty." Somehow this proud, spirited woman had found Him, taken up a comfortable residence in His belly that amazed Him sometimes. He thought that space she occupied had always been vacant before, or filled with quiet longing.

She blushed and smiled, unable to keep herself from shivering as He pressed His lips to her neck where her perfume floated from her throbbing pulse.

"Where are we going tonight, Master?"

"Well, dinner in a while. We've got reservations in about an hour. But we need to make a stop first."

His eyes twinkled, and she knew that it was time to stop asking questions.

"Ready when you are, Sir." She smiled and picked up her black evening bag. He offered her His arm, leading her outside and helping her into the car. His emerald, His treasure.

She smiled softly as she waited for Him to take His place in the driver's seat. Him in the driver's seat. It was all she had ever wanted, before she knew that such a relationship could even exist.

In high school, she remembered having an inexplicable craving to just melt, for lack of a better term, into her boyfriends, wanting them to surround her, protect her, guide her. It didn't take long for her to begin gravitating toward older men, but even then, there was something missing, a feeling of completeness, a surrender of self. And even as she went about her independent business...finished college, worked hard at her career, bought her own home...she longed for a strong guiding force, a hand at her back. She'd found it in Him.

She was equal parts amused and confused when they pulled up to a furniture store. As He took her hand to draw her from the car, He murmured in her ear, "I think W/we need a new bed, don't you?"

"Oh, Master!" Her face was radiant as she threw her arms around Him. They'd been talking about needing some new furniture, but the bed was symbolic, somehow. A new bed. A clean slate.

A pleasant, if a bit eager, salesman approached them.

"May I help you?"

"We're looking for a king-sized bed. Firm mattress, but with that soft layer."

"A pillowtop mattress? Absolutely, Sir. We've got a wide price range in this type of bed. Might I ask what you're looking for?"

His lips twitched a bit as He watched His beauty, her face a bit flushed, shifting from one high heel to the other.

"Luxury. Decadence. And endurance." His hand slipped down over her velvet-encased bottom as He said this last bit. He raised an eyebrow at her tiny gasp, and her eyes immediately lowered, but the color was high in her cheeks. He smiled. This was going to be fun.

The salesman smiled. "I think I know what you need." And he led them to a sprawling paradise of a bed.

He nodded to her. "This looks very promising, doesn't it, sweet?"

His manner became brisk, almost businesslike. "Go to the foot of the bed, and face the head. Quickly, beauty."

She looked at Him, lips parted in surprise. Her heart beat a rapid tattoo, pounding in her ears. Oh, no...

They'd scened in public before, a few times, but always at a play party or other event. Never outside the familiar places, where it was understood. Never out in 'the world.'

It had never been more difficult than it was at this moment. She was rooted to her spot, so many conflicting impulses...to acquiesce, to please, to protest, to run...

The salesman's brows lifted quizzically, and he appeared to be waiting for her to laugh, or backhand Him, one of the two.

This was it, she thought. Where the rubber meets the road. Would she submit only when it was convenient, non-threatening? Or would she obey even when it seemed to cost her something?

A tiny voice slipped from between her parted lips.

"Yes, Master."

And everything in her, muscles, tendons, even bone, became pliable, as she took the required position.

He spread her arms wide, mentally measuring the space between the posts, as her face flamed crimson, her eyes forward, chin thrust out a bit, shame battling with eagerness to please.

She felt His large hand between her shoulder blades, as He pushed her forward, bending her over the mattress.

"How does that feel, angel? Nice and soft, but firm underneath? Those pillow top mattresses are nice, aren't they?"

She nodded, her cheek warm against the soft mattress cover. "Yes, Master. It is firm for support, but has the nice softness on top."

He chuckled and gave a soft smack to her behind. She closed her eyes as she felt the eyes of the salesman on her, and several others nearby. Her breathing began to change, and she felt liquid heat under her clothes.

"On all fours, angel. On top of the bed."

He continued to stroke her bottom, His hand slipping between her legs as she whimpered, while He talked to the man about delivery charges, financing. She bit her lip and contemplated begging Him to stop...please, too much...they're looking...so embarrassed...but the thought of disappointing Him created a lump in her throat that wouldn't let the words come.

Curling a finger under the round lock that joined both ends of the platinum chain, He drew her up to her knees.

"Spread your knees, dear."

All she could see were those blue eyes, and she became loose, supple, liquid under their gaze. Even though her posture was still straight, tall, and perfect, there was a softness to her face, her expression, her body, as if her very skin were softer, her flesh more malleable.

He took a neck roll pillow from a nearby display and almost casually slipped it between her knees while he and the salesman continued their conversation. Had the store been open long? How long had he worked there? Did he enjoy it?

He held a finger out to the salesman for a moment, then leaned in and whispered into her hair, "Ride it. I want to see the bed give under your sweet hips."

Eyes wide, shaking her head involuntarily, looking up at Him, pleading with her eyes. His face was impassive, eyes hooded, just watching her. Her hands were balled up into little fists at her sides.

Her dark head dipped, her hair partially obscuring the tears forming at the corners of her green eyes. She was perfectly still for one beat...two beats...three beats...as He waited. He felt her give, as the tension rolled from her neck, shoulders, elbows, fists, rolling from her like a wave. He felt her slide under His will, just as she felt Him slip under her very skin.

She began to bounce lightly on the neck roll pillow imprisoned between her thighs, so gently at first that it hardly disturbed the mattress. He turned his palm face up, and signaled with His fingers, "Bring it up. Do it more."

Her bottom rose and fell, rose and fell, her thighs flexing, glutes working, her sex rubbing against the pillow as she came down. Her fingertips tightened into her thighs as she rode the pillow, rode the bed, rode His pleasure.

"If you'll excuse us a moment, I need to discuss this purchase with My bride."

"Of course, Sir. I'll be right over there when you're ready." The man moved away slightly, his eyes transfixed on the sight of the dark haired-woman now riding the pillow with long, luxurious strokes, mouth slightly open, beginning to gasp and wiggle.

His slow smile let her know that He'd forgiven her moments of rebellion earlier. "I know this isn't easy for you. That's why it means so much."

And with that, He reached between her legs, between her writhing sex and the pillow, crept under the skirt hiked almost to her waist, slid aside the crotch of wet bikinis, and found her bud with His thumb and forefinger, rubbing the thumb and forefinger together.

He held her chin in His hand, keeping her eyes on Him, then reached up to gently grip the thick, dark hair. He pulled, and a soft keening sound slipped from her as the tug on the back of her head caused her lips to part. "Aaauhhhh..."

The smile broadened. "Did you say something, angel?"

His fingers grew faster, moving like buttered lightning between her legs, spreading tingling fire as He muttered hoarsely, "I don't think they're paying enough attention, do you, angel? It hardly counts as public play if they don't know we're playing."

And with that, something in His face turned to granite, and He grasped her labia and tugged them quite firmly.

"HHHHHaaaaahhhhhhhh!" A half-dozen heads whirled in their direction.

"That's better. Now, in front of all of these people, who wouldn't dare stop you...it's too gorgeous a sight...you're going to cum."

"Ahhhhhaaaahhhhhhaaahhhhh..."

The fist in her hair nodded her head for her.

"That's right, angel...I'm going to count backward from 10...very, very slowly...and by the time I get to 1, you'll be screaming to cum."

"10....9....8...."

Her eyes were wild, sightless...there was a hard twist to His mouth...a heat that rose from Him and circled her, making her dizzy. Yes. Must. Yes. For Him. Him. His pleasure. His need. Need. her need. oh godddd...

"7...6...5..."

They were lost, drowning in that bed, as if the corners of the bed came up around them, and the two of them were in a little hollow in the middle...nothing around them but softness and heat...

"4...3..."

"Please....ohhh please...have to...please YESSS PLEASE MAAA-STERRRR..."

"2..."

She was sobbing, shaking...every cell in her body pleading...

"1..."

"PLEASE MAY I CUM SIR OH MASTER PLEASE?"

Firm twist of her clit and surrounding tissue. And one word.

"Now."

She'd never been able to quite get this down, this cumming on command. Sometimes a step ahead, which resulted in punishment--delay, denial, restriction. More often a step, or several steps after--no punishment, because He knew she wanted to please so badly on this...but a lingering sense of frustration...

"Now."

Moan became cry became scream...bucking, writhing...godddd yessssss...finally on command...yessss...

The salesman returned a little too soon for comfort, straightening his collar and tie, clearing his throat. "And have we decided?"

He glanced at her with all the pride, gentle mirth, and tenderness He felt, and placed a hand on her shoulder, as she was still trembling, coming down, her skirt still hiked up to her waist, buckled thighs sagging against the pillow.

"Angel?" He lifted her chin and nodded in the salesman's direction.

Her soft throaty purr. "I'll take it."

The salesman chuckled. "So you will, ma'am. So you will."