Submitting to Satin Ch. 05

"I will have to look up the user manual on line. Ah here we are. Chapter one, sex doll setup and configuration," stated Peter's lovely soft voice in my ears.

I wondered where this was heading. I was a lifeless mannequin not a robot. May be he intended to give me instructions. The idea of being instructed was very arousing, but really all I wanted was his hard cock deep inside.

"To initiate start sequence spank doll's bum."

What? I couldn't object, well I could, but I chose to remain motionless and in character. I was positioned over his knee. I felt his strong hands massaging my bum cheeks before he administered three sharp slaps to each buttock. I smiled into my gag.

"Stroke bum cheeks and legs."

I felt firm hands on my body. I felt myself being lifted by my waist. I was set onto my feet balancing on my ballet heels.

"Good girl, stand still," he commanded.

The phrase 'good girl' still thrills me.

His hands released me- I was free standing in my ballet heels. I remember thinking I would never achieve this. A shiver of exhilaration rippled through my body. I had every confidence he wouldn't allow me to fall. I'm not sure how long I stood there, but my feet were beginning to hurt. I was swept off my feet into Peter's arms. I lay cradled in his arms.

"That was very impressive, but I could see you starting to wobble. I'll never let you fall and I will always catch you my love," he told me.

I think he carried me back upstairs, the movement made me disorientated adding to my experience. Peter knows how to push my buttons and I loved him for it. He dropped me, or flung me onto the bed, I was in freefall for less than a second, but I couldn't contain a little squeak from escaping.

"I didn't think this model came with sound," he teased me as he tickled the gap between my ribs and my hips.

I tried to think of something else, to maintain my composure, but having been together for a while Peter knew my sensitive spots. It wasn't malicious, but he was tormenting me. He stopped the tickling leaving me to regulate my breathing.

"Bad doll, lay still," he commanded.

I think I heard him move about, but I couldn't be sure. A cuff was attached to my left wrist and then secured to the strap on the bed, he moved around the bed anti clockwise securing my limbs.

"That will keep you still."

A hand gently held my throat. He released me and I instantly missed his touch. His hands grabbed my breasts and then moved down my body. His large hand moved between my legs cupping and pressing my tucked cock against my bum. The heat from my Master's hand transferred through the tight latex into my contained genitals.

"My bad doll," he whispered as he gently spanked my crotch.

I was very turned on and felt myself dribble into my rubber panties. The hands disappeared and I was left restrained in my latex prison. Had he abandoned me? Was he watching me? Cuffs were secure above my knees and then secured. The bed moved with his weight. He climbed on top of me his body pressing me firmly into the mattress. I felt his cock part the latex between my legs and was thrilled as be pushed his full length deep inside me. My breath came out in a big sigh.

"Oh, my doll is so lovely and tight," he reported.

I squeezed him tighter making him moan. His hand returned to my throat and he held me firmly as he had sex with his love doll. His cock felt bigger, hotter, and harder as he plunged it repeatedly into my still body. He kept up the rhythmic pumping for a while until he erupted deep inside my body which triggered my climax.

"Probably the best sex toy in the world," he whispered.

He climbed off. A large plug was eased into my hole keeping his love juice trapped inside me. I lay there bathing in ecstasy as my body rejoiced in the long orgasm that embraced my body. After a while I felt the cuffs being removed. The collar taken away, the latex face removed.

"Paula, please take out your gag."

I acquiesced. I was still encased in latex complete with hood, with my ballet boots, corset and blackout lenses.

"Did my lovely doll like that?" he asked.

"That was incredible," I smiled.

He held me close and kissed me.

"I am still blind and at your mercy," I reminded him.

"I think I would prefer if you were little robot doll that would do as you're told, and may be can talk back in a submissive way. Perhaps something for you to think about and we can talk about."

"I will consider your request, Master," I replied in my best cute robotic voice.

"You will consider my request?" he laughed.

He lifted my chin with his fingers and kissed me again.

"Ready to come out of that outfit?" he asked.

"I would like the heels off, and I'll take out the lenses, but I want to stay like this for a bit longer."

I remained in my latex second skin until bed time. With the red hair I looked different. When I finally wriggled from the latex layers I was covered with a layer of dampness. I took a quick shower. When I padded back to the bedroom Peter was waiting for me with burgundy satin nightwear.

"What, not blue?" I teased as I stepped into the French knickers.

He slipped the matching chemise over my head and kissed my forehead.

"I know you love this colour. I just want you to know how much tonight meant to me. Your trust in me is so very special. You know I'm not very good at saying how I feel. So... I feel so happy that you can submit to me freely. I love you so much," his voice wavered.

"I love you," I replied

I smiled and hugged him. I felt his fingers in my hair. He lifted me into bed spooning me.

*

Another week passed and another busy working day. I had prepared lasagne for dinner. I was in a scarlet satin long sleeve blouse, black pencil skirt, nude stockings with red heels. Work had been busy with several project delivery deadlines. It was late afternoon and I had just logged off for the day. I heard the front door bell. I descended the stairs opening the front door to discover Nicholas, Peter's father, standing there. I was surprised. I didn't know what to say. I took a breath.

"Oh, hello, I'm sorry Peter isn't home yet," I explained keeping my voice as neutral as possible.

"Paula, first let me tell you how sorry I am. I don't ever expect you to forgive me. I'm a dinosaur, an old dog that refused to learn that the world has evolved. I treated you so very badly. I said many things that I regret. My wife, Sandra, god love her, thinks I can be redeemed. I am sincerely sorry. You probably don't believe me and I can understand that. I decided to come here today and tell you in person: a phone call just didn't seem right. So, again, I am sorry."

I smiled. I'm not sure I totally believed him, but I would give him a chance for Peter.

"Why don't you come inside and wait for Peter," I suggested opening the door wider.

"I don't want to impose or violate your personal space," he offered.

May be Sandra had read him the riot act? May be he had rehearsed his speech? Did it matter? If people are willing to admit to mistakes and change- who am I to judge? More love less hate is my motto.

"Nicholas, please come in. Thank you for the apology. I'm sure that wasn't easy."

"Thank you for being gracious. You could have just slammed the door in my face and I would have deserved it."

"Why don't we start over? We don't have to be friends, but I don't want to be the reason that you and Peter don't speak. May I offer you tea?"

"Okay, tea would be good. Milk no sugar... um, please."

I busied myself making tea. I set a small plate of biscuits on the kitchen table. Nicholas examined the wooden pattern on the table. He was avoiding making eye contact with me. I set a mug of tea in front of him.

"I think it's oak," I suggested.

"What?"

"The table: you were looking at the wood."

"Oh, right," he laughed.

"I know I'm not what you expected, but I don't bite," I offered gently.

"Sorry, I'm still not sure what I can say or not say without offending you. I seem to open my mouth and say the wrong thing," he admitted glancing up at me.

"Well, for what it's worth, I didn't exactly plan this, but I have accepted this is who I am. Peter is very special and I'm not sure I could be me without him. I love him."

He nodded accepting my statement. He asked me how my day had been. He slowly opened up and we chatted about his drive, the traffic and other safe subjects. As we talked he slowly made more eye contact. We heard keys in the front door. Nicholas tensed.

"Hi princess I'm home," Peter called happily.

"I'll be right back," I told his Father.

"Hi, we have a visitor," I said quietly hugging him.

"Oh, who?" he asked in a whisper kissing my ear.

"Your Father."

I felt him brace, he stepped back and looked at me: he had his serious face on.

"Did he say something?"

"He apologised. Please talk with him. I'll give you some space. Give him a chance?" I suggested.

Peter rolled his eyes, but nodded. I sat in the lounge and put the television on, not that I was interested, but I didn't want to listen in as they talked. I watched the clock more than the program. The news came and went, the weather report and then I heard the front door. Peter walked into the room. I stood: not knowing what had happened was torture.

"We talked, we made some progress, but there's a long way to go," he said seriously.

I smiled and hugged him. He sat on the sofa; I sat beside him and held his hand.

"He has invited us to dinner, he's cooking apparently, a peace offering: something I never thought I would hear. He apologised, something else I... it was a surprise, and I don't think my poker face held."

I let Peter talk. He needed to share this with me. I think he needed to voice his thoughts. He talked for nearly ten minutes.

"You're not saying very much. Are you okay?" he asked finally.

"I'm fine, honest. I wanted to let you talk. You don't do that very often. You keep your thoughts and feelings in a tiny box deep inside," I said tapping his chest with my finger.

"I do talk to you. I often tell you I love you."

"Yes you talk, and yes you do tell me you love me. You don't tell me when you are sad, or troubled. I have to ask you, and then you often dismiss it."

He sighed.

"Pretty messed up aren't I?"

"No, I don't think so, but once in a while when you have a bad day it wouldn't hurt to just express how you really feel. It's actually strange: when I think about it when it comes to feelings about me I have seen you happy, angry, sad, sympathetic, confused, and a hundred other emotions on your face. When it comes to your feelings about you and the world- you put on your mask."

He nodded thoughtfully.

"So what next?" I prompted.

"I would like to visit Dad, I would like to try and rebuild that bridge. I think it's going to take time and I'm sure there will be some challenges. I hope you will come with me. I will really try to share my feelings with you without you having to interrogate me. May be I'm as much a grumpy dinosaur as my Dad? I will try to do better."

"You're not a grumpy dinosaur. Come on Petersaurus, let's eat I'm starving," I told him as I kissed him.

"Now you are talking my language. What's for dinner?"

I shook my head, but couldn't help but smile.

*

A month passed and I was hit by some bug on Friday morning, by midday I couldn't work. I had a terrible headache, couldn't concentrate and generally felt ill. Peter had returned from work in the evening to find me on the sofa with the curtains drawn and my hand covering my eyes. Everything seemed too bright and too loud which only made my head thud more. I think we talked, or maybe Peter asked me questions I have no real recollection. I think I remember Peter carrying me to our bedroom, undressing me and putting me to bed. I felt so cold and was shivering. I think Peter cuddled me sharing his body heat with me. I drifted thankfully into sleep.

I awoke and the room was dark. I was alone. I was wearing grey jogging leggings, one of Peter's thick checked shirts and thick socks. Not my usual sleeping attire. My body protested and ached as I moved. I was thirsty and my tummy rumbled. I know I hadn't eaten lunch or dinner the day I fell ill. I grabbed my towelling robe wrapping it around my body. I suddenly realised my bracelets were missing, when I checked so were my ankle ones and my day collar. I still had my stud earrings in, but no jewellery. I descended the stairs. I located Peter in the kitchen.

"Hi," I greeted from the doorway.

"Hi, how's my grumpy diva?"

"I'm not grumpy," I replied.

"So just a diva then?" he asked with a smile taking my hand.

His face looked concerned. He tucked my hair behind my ear.

"No, not a diva and I'm sorry if I was trouble."

"No, never trouble, but you worried me. How's your head?"

"Okay, but I don't feel myself. Sorry I didn't cook your dinner."

"Paula, it's fine. May I make you tea? Something to eat?"

"Tea would be lovely, thank you. What time is it?"

"It's Sunday afternoon, just after three."

"What? I slept the whole Saturday? I guess that explains being thirsty and hungry"

"Yep, I think your body demanded rest. What would you like to eat?"

"I would like some biscuits to dunk in my tea. Do you have enough ingredients to do that fried potato, scrambled egg, bacon thing?"

"For you I can do that. Are you warm enough? You want the heating up?" he asked.

"No, I feel okay. Thanks for the shirt and dressing me, but what happened to my collar and cuffs?"

"You were a little ice-cube so I took them all off."

"You cuddled me?" I asked.

"I did, until you started fighting me," he shared laughing miming my arms like windmills.

"Sorry."

"I shouldn't tease, you were sick."

I dunked half a dozen biscuits in the hot tea and then drained the cup. I topped it up from the teapot and quickly slurped another cup by which time the kitchen was filled with the smell of Peter's speciality breakfast. He served me a plateful of hot food and handed me a fork. I devoured everything on the plate.

"Better?"

"Yes, much, thank you for dinner, second breakfast or whatever mealtime this is. Thank you for looking after me."

"Well Arwen did come and sit with you for bit yesterday, so I can't claim all of the credit. Can I do anything else for you?"

"I think you need a hug, for being the best partner in the world. Was Arwen okay?"

He enveloped me in his strong arms.

"Arwen was worried about you too, but she kept an eye on you while I ran some errands."

"Oh, what errands?"

"We can talk about that later. More tea? Juice? Water? More biscuits?"

"No, I'm good, although I do feel sleepy."

"Well have your rest and hopefully you'll be better tomorrow."

"Any chance of your company?"

"Sure, you want me to carry you to bed?"

"I would really like that."

He lifted me in his arms. I leaned against him recognising his unique smell of soap, deodorant and after shave. My mind drifted and I think I was almost asleep by the time we reached the top of the stairs. Errands? What errands? Grocery shopping? That didn't seem likely: any of our friends would be happy to collect food supplies. He had been evasive when I asked about it. Was I being paranoid? Where had he gone?