Servant Day Pt. 04

Oh yes. Rule two. Jack opened his eyes, and resumed washing the crockery, while his wife stroked her husband's member into full hardness. "This is your reward. You can come now, when you need to. But how long can you hold out?" And she licked his earlobe. Oh god, he thought. Her hands continued their questing, one hand venturing out around his abdomen, his chest or his hips, before returning to drive him towards his orgasm. His face, his neck, his back, his hair were also explored. His buttocks, his inner thighs, all were caught up in a continuous whirl of ever-changing sensation, and always with the other hand teasing his penis, stroking him, or massaging and tugging on his testicles.

She wanted him to hold on, so he would try to, but she'd said he could come now, so Jack didn't try to distract himself from the pleasurable sensations he was feeling -- he simply tried to last as long as he could. After over three hours of nearing release, he did not think it would be long.

Her clever fingers continued their dance, but the hands narrowed their focus, keeping to his groin. One hand explored his thighs, his hips, his butt, his balls, but there was always one hand on his shaft: she curled around the head in a circular motion, spreading his juices; she stroked up and down, from head to base and back; she pulled it down and out, away from his abdomen.

Jack kept washing up: plates from lunch, cups from tea during the day, bowls from breakfast. Spoons, knives and forks, the pizza wheel. But he struggled to keep going. His breath was intense. His stomach was spasming. His hips were making small bucking motions of their own accord.

Her stroking became more vigorous, and she gripped his shaft a little tighter. She crouched behind him, her cheek against his hip, and reached up between his legs to play with his balls. He knew he could not hold out much longer. His hands were barely moving, in the sink. Her fingers played rapidly against the front of his testicles, a staccato movement like a guitar solo, before enclosing them and tugging. It was too much for Jack: he exploded, sending a string of semen splattering onto the kitchen cupboard door. Emma kept masturbating him, and as his orgasm washed through him, she squeezed his testicles again, a little harder this time. The waves of pleasure surged, and he almost collapsed in response. He spurted again and again, until at last his climax dwindled, and he hung his head, breathing heavily, resting on hands deep in the water.

Emma's stroking slowed to a gentle motion and she lightly rolled his balls in her fingertips, before giving a satisfied "Good!" She stood, and plucked a tissue from a nearby box. "You'll need to clear that up," she said, indicating the semen he'd strewn across the cupboard door, as she wiped her hands clean. "Once you're finished with the washing up, you'll have completed all the tasks, and that'll be the end of Servant Day. I'll see you in the living room soon." She dropped the soiled tissue in the waste bin, and swept out of the kitchen head high, closing the door behind her.

***

It was a different person waiting for Jack in the living room when he opened the door about ten minutes later. Gone was the confident, imperious woman who had controlled every aspect of the last four deeply sensual hours. In her place was a smaller, more nervous woman who was sitting on the edge of the sofa, hunched forward, tugging absently at her lower lip as she waited. She turned her head in his direction as the door opened, and jumped to her feet. From the sofa, she grabbed his dressing gown, and from the coffee table she retrieved an open beer. She came towards him, offering him first the dressing gown and then, once he'd shrugged his way into it, the beer.

"So?" she asked him anxiously. "How was it? How do you feel? What did you think?" The words came out in a shaky voice, in a rush. The difference between the Emma who'd left the kitchen and the one in front of him was just as profound as the difference between his usually bubbly wife and the cool, calm, exotic being who had been driving him mad with excitement all evening.

He gave her a reassuring smile. "It was amazing. You were amazing. I am so glad you convinced me to try it. I would do it again in a heartbeat."

"Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him and hugging him. He hugged her back, as she giggled and shook, and that's when he realised she was crying.

"Hey," he said. "What's the matter, Ems?"

She pulled back, wiping her eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm just being silly. It's just-- I needed this, you know? I really needed this. And I was so worried that you wouldn't enjoy it."

"And you're upset that I enjoyed it?"

She thumped him on the shoulder. "No, silly. I'm not upset. I'm relieved. I'm so relieved."

"Hey, c'mon, Ems!" He pulled her into another hug, and held her until she pulled away again. "Look, sit down. Talk me through it."

She sat. "Can you get me some more wine, please? While I gather my thoughts?"

"Of course." Jack fetched her a clean glass, with most of the remains of the bottle in it, and sat beside her, as she held it in her hands, staring into space, waiting for her to begin.

"Okay. So," she said, after a while, "I said the other week that I found it difficult to say what I want, in terms of sex? That Servant Day might give me a way to express what I wanted to say?"

He nodded. She'd certainly had no problems expressing her needs tonight, he thought, but he resisted the temptation to make any comment, waiting for her.

"I was right. God, was I right. Tonight -- no, this entire week -- was the hardest thing I've ever done. It's not just saying to you I want this, and I want it now, but also admitting to myself that that was what I wanted, that I deserved it, was so difficult. Don't get me wrong," she said, wiping tears from her cheeks as she looked at him, "today has been a fantastic experience, and I loved doing it, but it was like I was playing a part in a play, and I didn't know whether the other people in the performance were doing the same play as me. It has been liberating and frightening and wonderful and difficult and it was only when it came to the end that it all came crashing in and I realised that I really, really need something like this in my life, and that I was terrified that you might not want to do it again."

He took her hand in his. "We will definitely do this again," he promised her. "As much and as often as you want." And once again, she hugged him and sobbed into his shoulder in relief.

A ten-minute interlude was agreed upon; Jack used the time to remove the dicky bow, pull on some boxers and a t-shirt, and fetch himself a pint after chugging the first beer; meanwhile, Jack's own pizza cooked in the oven. Emma repaired to the bathroom for a bit, and swapped the gold dress and heels for some comfy jammies. Declaring herself to be sufficiently wined-out for the evening, she opted for a mug of herbal tea. It was a calmer Emma who snugged up on the sofa beside Jack, her feet pulled up under her, the mug clutched in both hands.

"So," she said. "I promise I'm not going to collapse any more. Tell me what you thought of it."

"I loved it," he said. "I won't lie, I was pretty nervous beforehand about what I was letting myself in for, and never in a hundred years would I have guessed what you had planned. But," he added, "fuck me, what planning! I couldn't believe how detailed everything was, only visible in hindsight."

She blushed, "You noticed, then?"

"I dunno! I noticed a lot but, for all I know, there were some things I missed. But wow! And there's something Dan said -- how the one in charge does all the work, and the servant just has to lie back and enjoy it. Man, he is not wrong. You must have done so much work, and I just had to enjoy it. And I really did, so thank you." He leaned forward to kiss the top of her head. She snugged closer in appreciation.

"And you were brilliant," he continued. "You were so sexy, so calm, so coolly confident."

"I wasn't!" she objected. "I was jelly inside! All the time!"

"You were magnificent," he assured her. "Heart-stoppingly gorgeous. But the biggest thing for me is the bit where you were telling me how to go down on you. I am so grateful for that. I mean," he said, with an incline of his head, "don't get me wrong, I wish I'd known how to do that years ago, but I didn't. So now," he said, hugging her to him, "I need to practice, don't I?"

Emma giggled. "I like the sound of that!"

He paused, taking a sip from his beer and a mouthful of pizza. "You obviously planned a lot with Rebecca. How much was you, and how much was her?"

She leaned back a bit, so that she could look at him. "It was all me," she said, seriously. "Well, ninety-nine percent. Rebecca did give me some of the scenarios she'd done with Dan, so that I had some idea of what was possible, but she was adamant that I came up with a plan that worked for me. And that was hard. I thought of lots of things to do, but the hard part was trying to work out whether I was suggesting them because I thought they were what was expected, or whether they were actually what I really wanted. Once I did come up with ideas, I'd talk them through with Rebecca. She'd ask me lots of questions, really getting down into the details, so that I could set things up properly in advance." Her serious face evaporated. "You do realise I've spent the last week horny as hell. I've devoted the entire time to thinking about how to have some serious debauchery with you, and I've practically worn my button off in anticipation."

He laughed. "The coordination with Rebecca and Dan was a real surprise, but it was a good one. Though I honestly thought you were going to get me to walk around the table to fill up your glass, bare-arse naked with a huge stiffy waving in front of the camera."

She lowered her eyes. "Would that have been so awful? What would you have done if I'd told you to?"

"When you didn't move the glass, I thought you did want me to, and I thought, well, if she's okay with it, then all right. I was just about to walk in front of the camera when you moved the glass."

She looked at him, eyes wide. "You really wouldn't have minded?"

He shook his head. "No. I mean, it was a surprise, but I was keen to do what you asked, to fulfil your needs. So, yes, if you'd have asked, I'd have done it, and I wouldn't have minded."

She gave a snort of laughter.

"What?"

She took a sip of tea. "It wasn't part of the plan, but I really did want you to do it, and for a second, I nearly decided to go for it. But then I thought you might freak out, and I didn't want to freak you out on our first attempt." She hugged him again. "But you're a gorgeous sexy hunk of man-flesh, and I really did want to parade you in all your glory in front of my best friend."

His turn to laugh. "I'll be honest with you," Jack said. "I was a bit disappointed when you didn't ask me to."

"So," she said. :"My turn next. Whenever you're ready, I get to be the servant."

"Oh," he said dismissively. "I don't know that we need to do that."

"Oh yes we do! We agreed, two goes, one each."

"Yes," he said reasonably, "but we've already decided that we liked tonight. And, you said yourself, you need this. I don't have have that need to fill."

"No no no," she was emphatic. "We need to take turns. First, we take turns to do the chores -- that's only right. Second, it's the one in charge that puts all the effort in; you said it yourself: the servant just has to lie back and enjoy it, and you better believe I want some of that. But more importantly, I want to feel some of that abandonment. I want to surrender myself to you. Part of the role of the servant is to be used by Sir or Madame for their own gratification, and I want to be used by you, for your pleasure. I want to be your fuck-toy, in a strictly consensual and generally agreed sort of way. So," she poked him in the chest, "start figuring out your depraved and perverted desires, mister! You need to take unscrupulous advantage of this innocent and helpless maiden, or there will be words, you mark me!"

He held up a hand in surrender, laughing at her mock sternness. "All right. I give in. I will start plotting all manner of debauchery."

"I am very glad to hear it." And she hugged him again.

They sat like that on the sofa for a while, lost in their own thoughts. Jack munched on pizza and sipped his pint; Emma held her tea, but didn't drink it. After a while, she shifted, and looked up at him. "A penny for them?"

"We're done with Servant Day for today, right?" he asked her. "No more orders from you?"

She nodded. "Servant Day is over. Out of office is on. Lady Madame is off the clock. Elvis has left the building. From here on in, you'll have to wing it on your own, my boy. Why?"

He gave her a knowing grin. "Well, how about we go wing it in the bedroom? I can get started on that practising."

She grinned back. "I like the sound of that."