Page 35 of Objection
“Good girl.”
I wasn’t even able to take a single breath before his lips were on mine, his fingers wrapping gently around my throat and keeping me exactly where he wanted me. In that moment… I was right where I belonged.
15
Soren
I was stalking.I knew I was. Stalking and prowling around the playroom like a caged animal at the zoo. I felt like a caged animal. Tuesday night, four whole days ago, we had signed the contract only moments after sharing our first kiss. An explosive kiss. A kiss that… fuck me, it was completely unexpected.
What had possessed me to kiss her, I don’t know. It wasn’t that I refused to kiss my submissives, no. I just typically didn’t. Forehead kisses, top of the head kisses? Sure. Maybe a peck here or there with someone I trusted, like Samantha. But honestly, she and I had figured out early on that it wasn’t right for us.
Speaking of Samantha, Posey and I had gotten into words over my submissives yesterday. She had put two and two together and realized that the woman she had seen that night was likely a play partner. And it was true. I didn’t lie to her, but she had several reservations about being on a list of women I played with. I couldn’t blame her. She was new to the scene, and had openly stated that she wasn’t polyamorous. I wasn’t either, but to me, the submissives I played with were not relationships. Not really.
In the end, we had both discussed it, ad nauseam, and had agreed that we would not have any additional partners for the time being. We agreed to redress the issue in three months’ time. When I had called to tell each of my submissives, it had been met with general understanding, though Lynn had seemed a tad bit resistant. I would need to remember to check in with her in the coming days. Samantha, on the other hand had giggled so much she had ended up with a cramp in her side.
She reiterated the fact that Posey would give me a run for my money and change my damn life with the way I talked about her. I simply rolled my eyes and told her she was crazy. Posey was just a woman I was going to train as a submissive. If I happened to enjoy the time, then that was only an added perk.
Now, as I continued pacing around the playroom, making sure everything was exactly in its place, I realized that this was not like my normal scenes. I rarely — if ever — had scenes with a complete newbie of a sub. I needed to be cautious and careful. It had been a while since I had done this.
I gathered myself, taking a calming breath.
I had told Posey to be at the top of the stairs at promptly 7:00 p.m. We had enjoyed an early dinner together, and I was more than ready for tonight’s activities. She was too, based on the way she couldn’t seem to sit still all evening. I glanced at my watch, noting that it was time. I took one last walk through the room, just to be sure it was perfect, before heading up the basement stairs to get her. Plus, it was good to give her a few minutes. Build the anticipation a little.
When I saw her at the top of the stairs, I had to steady myself once more. She was stunning. Sure, I had seen her in the office, dressed well, five out of seven days a week for over five years. But never had I allowed myself to look at her as anything other than an employee, a co-worker at most. She was attractive, that much I had never been able to ignore. But now that I could look at her and truly let myself see her, she was breathtaking. Completely different than any submissive I had ever taken on before.
I was used to women who had a dancer’s build. Tall and lean, lithe and thin. I enjoyed putting them in positions, fastening them with intricate rope, and hoisting them into the air to play with.
Posey, on the other hand, was all curves. Dangerous curves that could fill a man’s hand, and thighs that could suffocate a man while she writhed and moved against his tongue. My tongue. God, that was a thought. Her pale skin, a creamy peach in complexion would likely bruise easily if she were anything like the redhead stereotypes. I caught myself, imagining bruises marking her skin, dotting along her curves like a freckled signature. My bruises. My signature. Fuck!
“You look lovely, Posey,” I spoke clearly, making her jump. She was faced away from me, spinning towards me at the sound of my voice.
“Tha…thank you, Mr. Wellington,” she stuttered, and immediately scrunched her nose up.
“It’s the first thirty seconds of your first submissive interaction,” I teased. “You may correct yourself.”
She took a breath, visibly grounding herself, and tried again. I won’t lie, the action was arousing as hell.
“Thank you, Sir,” she murmured quietly, her eyes lowered. I have no idea where she picked up on the eye lowering, but Jesus, it was delicious.
“Good. Now, let’s make our way to the playroom.” I led her down the stairs gently. “When you walk into this room after today, we will be in scene. Whatever you do in this room, you will be entering as a submissive. As my submissive.”
“What does that mean?” She turned to face me, standing in front of the door with obvious trepidation and excitement in equal measure.
“It means that you will follow the rules and procedures we have laid out in our contract, along with any others that will be added. As you are new, we will be adding several over the coming weeks,” I explained.
“Oh,” she had a look of almost disappointment on her face.
“What is it?” I asked, tilting her chin to meet my gaze.
“I just assumed I would need to follow the contract at all times,” she stated sheepishly. I could barely contain the rising need that response gave me. Her natural desire to submit fed my dominant energy beautifully.
“While that is more delectable than I can say, this is the one place where our rules and protocols willalwaysbe in effect. Just as our contract states, there will be days we play, and days we don’t.”
“Yes, Sir.” Her response, and that little grin had me wanting to shove her against this very door and take her.
“Now, let’s begin.”
I led her into the playroom, watching her reaction carefully. The room was spacious, soundproofed, and filled with what I would call decadence. The walls, a deep blue gray, were muted by low-lit lights and draped fabric, giving the room a sensual feel. In one corner sat a St. Andrew’s Cross, leather padded, and shackles attached. In another corner was a large four-poster bed. Other assorted furniture dotted the room, but everything was neat and orderly, not too overly packed. I liked a clean and tidy room. Having drawers, cabinets, and other places designated for each toy helped to keep things out of sight, and thus created a much cleaner looking space. I smiled proudly at the room. It was my favorite room of the house.
