Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Please what?”
“Put something inside me. I want to be full for you…then full of you. I want to walk around all night wearing your plug and your cage to remind me I’m yours.”
“That we belong to each other,” he corrects.
I hear the bottle of lube again, then something bigger is pressing against my ass. My pupils are wide, breaths coming out heavily, a bead of sweat on my temple that I want him to lick away. My cheeks are flushed, and my eyes roll back when he presses forward, stretching me, filling me.
My hands tighten on the sink, dick uncomfortable, ass full, yes and more playing on repeat in my head.
It’s not a huge plug, but I still wince when it gets to the widest part, Sir shushing me softly, touching me, telling me, “You’re doing so well for me. I’m so lucky to have such a good boy.”
It pops inside, my ass closing around the smaller part.
“What do you think, toy?” He stands, then pulls me up so I’m standing straight, the two of us looking at each other in the mirror.
“I love being plugged and caged for you. It’s…a lot, my ass being full and my dick caged. Not too much, but it makes me feel like little sparks are going off inside me…like I’m a live wire or something? I don’t know. I’m not sure if that makes sense.”
“It does. Thank you. Let’s get these pretty panties on you so you’re all dressed up for me.”
Sir turns me around and takes them from his pocket. He helps me step into them, one leg, then the other, before pulling them up. The elastic snaps into place, his hands moving me again so I’m looking in the mirror—flushed cheeks, full ass, the pretty lace covering my obviously caged cock, and… “I look beautiful.”
“Yes, you do. You look like mine.” He pulls the collar of my shirt down, bites into my neck, then licks the sting away.
“Yours.”
Honestly, I feel a little dazed as Sir helps me get dressed again, puts my shoes on, tells me to wash my hands.
“Are you okay? Is it too much?”
I shake my head, then clarify. “It’s not too much, and yes, I’m okay. I love it.”
“Good boy. I’ll check the hallway, and if no one’s there, I’ll sneak out. Lock the door behind me and take whatever time you have for the rest of your break. I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done. I can’t wait to see what you choose for me to eat. You’re so good to your Sir.”
Pride makes my chest expand, but also makes it feel full in this way that only Marshall can do for me. “Thank you for taking such good care of me…” But also giving me the freedom to be myself, to be independent. Those things coexist when it comes to us.
“I love you.” He kisses my cheek, grabs his bag, and goes to the door. “All clear. Lock it behind me. Text me if you need me.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Once I ensure no one can accidentally walk in on me, I go back to the mirror, looking at myself. I’ve never worn any of the things Sir has used to dress me up, but I like the feel of them all—the fullness, the way the lacy fabric rubs against my skin when I move, and most surprisingly, the plastic of the cage around me. Would I want to do this all the time? No, but the thought of spending my evening this way, of serving Sir in public without anyone knowing… The truth of what is beneath my clothes feels like the dirtiest but sexiest secret.
I smile, take a few deep breaths, then leave the bathroom—and almost run into Reggie.
“What did you guys do?” he whispers, and my grin grows.
“We didn’t fuck, but I can’t confirm or deny if I’m wearing lace, a cock cage, and a butt plug right now.”
Reggie’s eyes nearly fall out of his head. “Holy…are you…wow…I can’t even settle on one sentence.”
“Methinks someone might be a little more interested than they thought.”
“I have to admit I’m curious.”
Which again reminds me of what Sir said about Reggie. Will he change his mind now that we’re in love? Will he think that means I don’t want him? That he’s not enough for me? Those things couldn’t be further from the truth, and I trust that he knows that. Maybe I’ll talk to him before I mention it to Reggie, just in case.
“I’ll get back to work. I need to go tell the kitchen what I want Marshall to eat.”
Reggie nods, and I feel his eyes on me as I go, but they’re nothing like the heat of Sir’s gaze…like Sir is picturing what’s beneath my clothes and is struggling to control himself. The power in that—in giving myself to him and knowing the effect it has on him—is everything, made even better when I go to the kitchen and choose the perfect dinner for him.