Page 68 of Her Dom's Secret Past

Chapter Nineteen

John

If it were at all possible, I was even more in love with Anabelle since she moved in. To go to sleep at night with her beside me and to wake in the morning knowing I could kiss her hello was beyond merely happiness. I thanked my lucky stars each day for finding that old newspaper.

Most days, I drove her to work and picked her up, except for Thursdays—she found it easier to drive in because she often had no idea what time her meetings would finish.

The spare room we’d set up for her office worked perfectly. It was actually larger than the one at work and she now tended to work from there more than the work one. She insisted on using at least each Tuesday as her work day and I appreciated her need to have things organized. She bought a large drafting table and a desk and chair. I had to smile to myself—within a few weeks, it was just as chaotic as her office at work. Scraps of fabrics lay here and there, beads, tiny pearls, and buttons—they were scattered all over the room.

While she was at work one day, I bought some materials and made one wall a vast pin board and then pinned up the fabrics. Couldn’t do much with the beads and buttons, but at least she could see the fabrics easier. When she came home, I showed her what I had done, with my fingers crossed. I hoped she wouldn’t get upset that I moved things.

“John! Oh wow, this is fabulous. Why didn’t I think of this? Do you think you can do it in my office at work?”

“For you, of course.”

She rummaged in the drawer of the desk and pulled out some very long, thin dressmaker’s pins and used them to pin the buttons and pearls against various fabrics.

“How did you think of this? I mean it’s obvious now I see it. Thank you.”

She kissed me then and I knew I’d donegood. I left her playing with beads and things and made her a coffee while I finished off preparing dinner.

Now that Tuesdays became her work day, I used it to mow the grass, to tend to the things that needed repair and generally kept out of her hair unless she needed me for anything. I did make sure she ate and had tea or coffee on hand. I’d noticed she tended to get completely absorbed in her work she forgot minor details like eating. Charlie had told me he made sure he kept her supplied in food and drink.

Still, we both found this day worked well for us—it gave us both a little space and also meant we actually achieved things. My vegetable garden was growing well. I’d repaired the enormous chicken coop and run. Justin had put me in contact with a local chicken farmer and I bought a dozen hens and a fat rooster, and now we had fresh eggs whenever we needed them.

My mob of kangaroos were becoming that used to seeing me around that they rarely hopped away. I often left carrots, apples, and greens for them to eat. The downside was now they expected something good to eat whenever I was around.

Justin and I often used the tracks through the bush to run and we finally discovered a wombat hole that was in use. I began leaving apples at the entrance and was delighted when I found them gone the next morning. I caught a glimpse of my lodger a couple of times. He didn’t seem as big asRollyand Justin thoughthe, or she, was probably only a youngster.

Charlie had almost completed his work on the Harley, and mine was all ready for the road. I finally convinced Anabelle to come with us when we took a trip. After her initial hesitation, she discovered she loved riding in the sidecar.

Life was perfect.

Time spent in the dungeon only got better and better. Anabelle confessed she’d never enjoyed sex as much as she did now. I loved how she was prepared to experiment. Some things we tried once and after talking it through, Anabelle had said once was enough. She discovered she didn’t like ball-gags or butt plugs, although she enjoyed anal sex. I was happy with that. Most things she liked to indulge in or at least try once.

She was the perfect submissive, prepared to accept the things I asked of her, knowing she would ultimately derive more pleasure from them, but we always discussed things. Never would I force things on her that I knew she wouldn’t enjoy. A few times I’d asked her about a contract, but she always refused. Her confidence and trust in me was a great honor and I made sure she knew I would never overstep any limits.

The house finally looked like a home. I couldn’t think of anything that would make my life better except to collar Anabelle and to marry her. Still, I knew I couldn’t rush things any more than I had. I’d only met her in mid-May and it was now only the end of September. But I knew, I knew from the very first moment I set eyes on my wild-haired angel that she was meant for me.

I’d finally finished my physiotherapy. To be honest, I never thought I’d be back to my old self, but amazingly, I was pretty close. I still had a slight limp if I overdid things but apart from that, I was fine.

I’d added a few more things to our dungeon and couldn’t wait to try them out. I’d bought some soy candles and wanted to see Anabelle’s reaction to them. I could already imagine her tits covered in wax. The thought of it gave me a hard-on. Because she was so smooth, I’d be able to drip the wax onto her pretty labia. The candles came in a ceramic container with a cute little pourer to make it easier. The label said they would become oil once melted and could be massaged into the body, Great! That would mean more fun.

It was Thursday and that meant Anabelle had driven herself to work. She’d rung earlier to say she’d be home about six-thirty. Her late appointment had canceled and remade it for tomorrow morning. Perfect!

She tooted the car horn about six-twenty to say she’d arrived. I went downstairs to intercept her before she came all the way up. Meeting her on the stairs near the dungeon, I took her handbag and dropped it on the floor near the dungeon door.

“Inside.”

She appeared surprised. I normally gave her time to sit down for five minutes. But being the good submissive that she was, she walked straight inside and stood waiting. I picked up a crop from the wall.

I walked around her and breathed in the smell of her. She was dressed in the black outfit she usually wore to the salon.

“Remove the dress—very slowly.”

Anabelle reached behind her and pulled down the zip. Then she slid the sleeves from her arms one at a time. Slowly, she let the dress fall to the ground. I was pleased to see she wore a black lacy bra and tiny panties underneath. She had on a pair of black shoes and looked delightful, but that underwear had to go.

I walked behind her and whispered softly in her ear, “Bra.”

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