The truth is, I’ve played with myself like this before, in the shower. I don’t own any toys, because I never had the privacy when living at home.
ThankgodI never had anything like that at home. I can only imagine the torture my mother would have put me through if she’d discovered them.
The smallest butt plug Carter bought, which wasn’t the smallest one they sold, slides inside me after only a few minutes of prep.
“Can I ask why, Sir?” once he lightly smacks my ass and allows me to stand.
“Sure.” He doesn’t say anything else as he strips off the glove and leans out of the shower to toss it into the garbage can.
I realize I need to ask properly. “Why the butt plug, Sir?”
He turns and smiles. “Because it amuses me, for starters. There will be other things in your future that you should be prepared for.” He arches an eyebrow. “If Susa ever orders you to bend over so she can fuck you with a strap-on, I’d better never hear a report from her that you didn’t obey her.”
I swallow hard. “Yes, Sir,” I whisper.
I can’t lie and say the thought isn’t hotter than hell, or something I haven’t already fantasized about countless times, because my cock is once again hard. It’s sort of a natural lie detector.
While I can tell Carter’s is sort of stiff, he doesn’t rub one out this morning. I suspect he’s a grower, not a shower, but I haven’t actually seen him fully hard yet. Yesterday morning, he had me pinned against the wall and I couldn’t look.
Not that Ineedto know. I’m just…you know, curious.
After our shower, I’m back in my leather collar and cuffs to cook breakfast. We haven’t heard from Susa yet, but we don’t want to be surprised. As sadistic as Carter claims to be, that’s not how he wants to spring the news on her about what’s going on.
Definitely not how I want her to find out, either.
I’m still terrified him telling her might mean an end to our friendship with her, but I trust Carter. If he says it won’t…then it won’t.
This is the point in the story where if a friend were confiding all this to me, I’d stop them, ask them what the fuckinghellthey think they’re doing, and tell them they’re a fucking idiot, plus insane, to boot. Anyone I told this to would likely say that to me.
Not that Ihaveanyone to tell this to.
Except…they haven’t seen Carter’s scars. They haven’t listened to him in the grip of a nightmare.
They don’t know Carter.
I do.
For the first time in my life, I feel a greater sense of purpose than I ever have before, and I know this is a path I want to walk.
Have to walk.
Needto walk.
Sitting with the butt plug in takes a little getting used to, but fortunately we’re eating on the sofa again—me sitting on a towel, of course—so it’s soft.
Yay.
After breakfast and cleaning up, Carter receives a text from Susa that she’s on her way and will probably arrive in less than three hours. We have to study today, but first Carter wants me to practice my positions for a few minutes.
I kneel on the floor in front of the couch, where I was yesterday.
The velvety, dark calm returns to my brain while I do, and I savor it.
Carter notices, smiling at me from his place on the couch as I move from Devotion into Primed. “Subspace already, boy?”
“Is that what it’s called, Sir?”
“That’s what it’s called. By the way, can’t remember if I told you this or not, but Primed is always done naked. I might put you in the other positions while you’re clothed when we’re alone and only have a few minutes, but Primed is always naked.”
