Page 56 of Objection
“Until, Posey,” Sam offered up. I nodded before I remembered that she couldn’t see my gesture.
“Yes. There is just something here that I can’t put my finger on,” I tried to explain.
“Then go for it, Ren. Seriously. Put everything you have into this. Nurture it, foster it, and don’t look back. Don’t worry about me or the other girls. We’ll all be fine. We all came into our arrangements with you with a firm understanding that it was not romantic and would never be romantic. That’s the difference with you and Posey.”
“Oh, no it’s not that,” I argued.
“Oh, yes, it is.”
“No, it’s not. I don’t get romantically involved. The feelings I have for Ms. Adams are simply friendly concern and lust. That’s all. We just seem to match well in our dynamic. That is all.” The argument ended abruptly when I heard the sound of Posey’s door opening and closing on the second floor. “Listen, Sam. You know me. I don’t get romantically attached to anyone, and Posey is no different.”
“You can say whatever you want, but you’re falling for that girl, lover boy. Might as well take a deep breath and let yourself drown in it. It’ll be good for you. And you deserve some happiness. I’ll leave you be, but give me a call later. And I swear, if you make me wait another week before talking to me, I’ll sneak in in the middle of the night and bejewel your ass like there is no tomorrow.”
“Goodbye, Sam,” I sighed.
“Goodbye, butt plug,” she snorted before hanging up. Enough of her antics though, I had a submissive to attend to.
I cleared my mind, focusing on the task at hand. Luckily, I felt I was back into my Dominant headspace by the time Posey walked through the kitchen door.
And I promptly forgot my damned name.
She was dressed exactly how I had asked; in the black lace ensemble consisting of a garter belt with stockings, bralette, and long lace robe. The black lace contrasted harshly against her pale skin, giving a seductive allure to her body. The lack of panties was particularly tantalizing.
I busied myself plating our meals, pretending that the very sight of her didn’t, in fact, make me want to drop to my own knees and worship that luscious body.
“Posey, tonight, I want to push things a little,” I began. “I want to focus on giving orders and having you obey them. I want to push your limits with pain as well. I will never take you too far, and I will always, without fail, listen to your safewords. Do you have any questions or concerns before we begin?”
‘No, Sir. No questions or concerns,” she answered dutifully. Beautiful.
“Very good. Now, please take my plate into the dining room. You will kneel beside my usual seat, keeping my plate in your hands, presented in front of you. Your position will be your standard kneeling position, except that the plate will remain in your hands and offered like this,” I stated, showing her with my own arms how to present the plate appropriately.
“I understand, Sir,” she said with a smile.
“Good girl.” I busied myself with cleaning up the kitchen, making her wait. That slow building anticipation was paramount to a successful scene like I had planned for this evening. When I entered the dining room, my breath caught in my throat.
She was perfection. All lace covered curves and tantalizing peeks at sensual flesh. Chin tilted down, her ass poised perfectly on her heels, positioned just beside my chair. It was breathtaking.
“Beautiful,” I murmured, taking a moment to kiss the top of her head before taking my plate. I had brought her plate in as well and placed it at the chair beside me. I tucked into my food, watching her closely as I took my first bite. I was prepared for her to rise and take her seat, but she didn’t. Fucking amazing.
“I have a question for you,” I began a few minutes later, after I had eaten several bites of my own food. “Why did you not take your seat after I began eating?”
“Because you did not tell me to move, Sir.” Her answer was gorgeous, and I wanted to bend her over the table and make her cum until she knew just how incredible I thought her submission was. As it was, I chose to keep my composure for the time being. There would be plenty of time for that shortly.
“Very well. You may take your seat.” I chose my words carefully. When she was seated, she reached for her fork. I cleared my throat noisily, giving her a pointed look.
“Sorry, Sir,” she stated sheepishly, her hand moving back to her lap.
“Good girl. You may eat,” I finally allowed. She smiled at me, taking a bite and moaning lewdly. The woman treated food like she treated sex, like a purely decadent experience meant to be savored.
“Open your legs, little one.” The command took her by surprise. Good. I watch as she fidgeted, obeying with a pretty blush. “Wider.”
Watching her correct her posture, opening herself up at my command, had me forgetting all about the food, instead focusing on what I wanted to eat between her thighs.
“Keep eating, Posey. You will need your energy for what I have planned.” I finished the last few bites of my own food, enjoying just watching her discomfort. Truly, discomfort was the wrong word. She was embarrassed and exposed. Deliciously so. Watching her emotional facial expressions, watching her shift while remembering to keep her legs open, her pussy exposed, yet under the table, was absolutely divine.
“I wonder how wet you are right now,” I murmured, more to myself than anything.
“Christ,” she cursed.
