Or fucking his ass.
“Downstairs to the basement,” I tell him. “Let’s go.”
Declan falls in behind us as I lead the way. George hasn’t been down here in a while, and has never seen my basement set up for play. Declan and I have spent countless memorable hours down here in Ma’am and boy mode. He actually built the collapsible cross that’s now bolted in place at an angle against the far wall. Doesn’t need a separate base, because of the way it’s usually positioned and secured. It takes less than fifteen minutes to set up and break down.
He found the plans online when I’d been wondering how we could incorporate bondage furniture that I wouldn’t have to worry about the kids seeing if they were over here.
Declan put the cabinet on wheels that are mostly concealed by a kick plate around the bottom. When it’s rolled into its usual position, it conceals everything. The uprights of the cross unbolt from the wall and stand up flat against the back of the cabinet, held in place by bungee cords. It rolls into place, hiding the 4x4 that’s lag-bolted to the floor and normally secures the bottom of the cross, also hiding the lag bolts anchored in studs in the wall that secure the top of the cross.
George’s eyes widen when he sees it.
“Yes, I get serious about my play,” I tell him. “First, I want you over that hassock. Long ways. Facedown.”
It’s about four feet long and over two feet tall, comfortable and leather, padded. George gets on top of it and I hand Declan one of the ankle cuffs. We buckle them on him, then use the restraints we’ve pre-positioned to hook to the wrist and ankle cuffs.
Another creation of Declan’s. The ropes have snap clips on one end, then run through a fixed ring in the center underneath the hassock, pulling George’s arms and legs down and tight against the hassock, unable to move. The ropes are then fastened around a large cleat underneath the edge of the hassock, which normally you can’t see, unless you know it’s there.
I’m sure never in his life did Declan think his creations would be used to restrain the governor of our state.
“You ever have anything up your ass, George?”
He snorts. “You mean besides a doctor’s finger?”
I slap his ass, hard, and he jumps. “Whatwas that,boy?”
“Sorry, Ma’am. No, Ma’am. I have not.”
From the cabinet I retrieve a jelly cockring, gloves, lube, and a medium-sized butt plug, because I’m feeling generous. He’ll need a larger one before long, because this one’s not quite as thick as Declan’s cock.
More than enough to get him started, though.
“Another rule this weekend,” I tell him as I walk over, letting him see what I have, “is that you don’t come without permission. Declan’s usually not allowed to beg me for permission to come, unless I’ve told him he can beg. He’s expected to hold it like a good boy unless I’ve told him otherwise. I expect you to hold it, too.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he says, staring me right in the eyes, more than a hint of challenge there.
I’m sure I can beat that out of him.
“Although this weekend Declan isn’t boy,” I continue. “And he doesn’t have to ask permission or hold it.” I pointedly look his way and see his right eyebrow arch ever so slightly.
Yeah, that sweetens the pot, I’m sure.
He finishes his drink and sets the glass down without breaking eye contact with me. It’s not exactly a swagger as he walks over but there’s definitely nothing submissive about him right now.
Um…yum!
It’s not that I don’t love dominant men, or don’t think dominant men are sexy. Quite the opposite. But there’s a fine line between them being dominant, and them trying to dominateme.
It’s the second I have no interest in.
I’ve kind of got my hands full, but Declan pulls me in for a long, deep kiss that nearly makes me forget what, exactly, we’re up to.
“If I don’t have to hold it, then rest assured at least one of these loads is going insideyouthis weekend.” Declan hooks an arm around my waist and perfectly grinds against me, the rigid shape of his cock rubbing along my clit.
Ooohh, snap.
I clear my throat and don’t miss his evil smile. “Yeah, that’s definitely on the menu this weekend,” I say.
He gives me another kiss and I think I might sway a little as he releases me. He grabs a chair and positions it in front of George’s head. “And if I don’t have to ask for permission, then I’m putting a load down the boy’s throat right now.”
