Friday, June 1, 2012


~Chapter 59~

Pulling the door to our bedroom closed, I glance across the hall at the all-but-abandoned guest room. Though I am fully aware sending my submissive here to sleep is the perfectly legitimate alternative to lashing her to my bed, I shrug off the idea like a bad dream. I can't imagine I'll ever prefer her that far away from me.

Sinking to the sofa cushion and clicking on the game, my thoughts drift back to where they always tend to stray when I'm in the process of training a submissive in the wide world of anal.
I rang the doorbell with a mad elixir of emotions brewing within. There was a definite element of relief in knowing this was to be my final session with Marcus, and that by the end of the weekend, I would have completed my training to his exacting standards and, in theory at least, be ready to go out into the world as a dom in my own right. At the same time, I felt that twinge of panic every new parent must feel taking his newborn home from the hospital.
Will I be good enough?
Can I do this?
How much will it take to bribe the neonatal nurse to come home with us?
Above all, anxiety ruled the day. I was perfectly aware of the fate that awaited me this weekend, and I can't honestly say I was looking forward to any part of it. But I also knew that I could not reasonably expect to genuinely relate to my prospective submissives' experience without putting myself in their place, painful and humiliating as I expected that to be. 
As usual, Marcus took one look at me and read every emotion as clearly as if I'd typed each one across my forehead. He pulled me in with our now customary hug, but held on just a bit longer today, adding an extra clap on the back when releasing me. And then he surprised me.
"Come into my study, Edward. We need to talk first."
The words, 'Yes, Sir' died inside my mouth, as I realized with a start he'd failed to collar me at the door as had become our routine.
"Have a seat." He squeezed my shoulder, pressing me into the chair, as he passed around to his own leather seat. "As you know, this is our last weekend together."
"Yesss," I answered, still uncomfortable not adding his title, but realizing this conversation was something else.
"And my last chance to work your soft limits," he stated, clear blue eyes piercing into my own.
I swallowed thickly and he continued. "Before we get started, I need to confirm you're still neutral on anal play."
Fuck, there it was. I sprouted perspiration from every pore and my heart began thumping so loudly, I was sure Marcus could hear.
"Y—" The word stuck in my throat, most likely trapped behind the boulder of anxiety. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Yes," I managed to croak.
"And  your stance on penetration by a penis?"
I gazed into the deep pools of honest blue across the desk. I could never attempt to describe my feelings for Marcus with any competency. He'd quickly earned my trust and respect, and there was no question that he knew how to work my cock with his hands and mouth more proficiently than any partner I'd ever been with in any capacity. I'd even have to grudgingly admit that I was no longer totally repulsed by the idea of taking his cock into my mouth, but that seemed less a product of some physical desire than a powerful emotional bond.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I knew I'd be disappointing him, but I'd also learned that being true to myself was my number one priority as a submissive. "Still a hard limit," I reported, holding back the accompanying, 'Sorry,' but communicating it with my eyes.
Marcus took in my response with a stoic nod. "Understood. We'll have plenty of time to talk on Sunday. Is there anything you need to get out of the way before we begin?"
I leaned forward in my chair, sliding my hands to my knees and drying them furiously on my jeans. He waited patiently while I gathered myself. "Just that…you already know, but…I'm shitting bricks here, Marcus."
Holding my gaze the entire way, Marcus uncoiled himself from his chair and moved in front of me. Grasping both my shoulders and leaning down so that his face was level with mine, he soothed me. "I am truly honored that you've chosen to trust me with this, and I will not let you down."
At close range, I could see the sincerity and affection behind those eyes. I made a mental note to remember how his confident touch brought me great comfort in that panicked moment. I nodded subtly, and Marcus took it for the acceptance it was, his lips quirking into a genuine smile.

"More football? Really?" I can't say I'll be that disappointed to see the Super Bowl come and go.
"Hey! Good morning, sunshine!" His whole face brightens as he shifts on the couch to invite me next to him. "How are you feeling?"
I sit gingerly, yet he catches the slight cringe when my ass touches down. I shuffle my position until I'm not resting entirely on my sensitive spot.
"Yeah, that might be a little sore…" He grimaces. "Need a drink or anything?"
"No, I'm good. And you can stop babying me now."
That gets a rise out of him, two eyebrows to be precise. "You think that's what I'm doing?"
I shrug my shoulders. "If the Docs fit…"
He considers my accusation thoughtfully. "You're disappointed about the scene."
I am. I was so determined to get past my bias and my fears, but it was all for naught. "Shouldn't I be? You safe worded. Isn't that the D/s version of a neon sign flashing 'Failure'?"
"No," he answers softly. "It's one of us acknowledging that the scene is putting one or both of us in danger. In this case, it was me keeping you safe when you were unable to do it for yourself."
"I wasn't unable," I answer vehemently. "I was unwilling."
His knit brows let me know I've misstepped. "I wasn't unsafe," I backpedal. "You were keeping me safe. I trust you," I add, going for extra credit points with the buzz phrase.
Edward crosses his arms, having none of it. "Do you remember our vows, Isabella?"
Shit. Vow invocation. I'm in big trouble now. "Yes," I answer miserably, dropping my eyes to my lap.
His warm hand reaches across and covers mine on the cushion between us. "I have to be able to trust you, too. That means not putting yourself in harm's way, for whatever reason. I know you felt you were pleasing me, but it doesn't work that way."
My eyes blur with tears. I know it wasn't just my body being stubborn during the scene. "Do you have any idea how it feels to be the last butt virgin on the planet?"
I don't look up when he guffaws and swiftly apologizes for it. He squeezes my hand three times before I finally look up into his eyes. "You're not. But even if you were, who cares? This isn't about anybody but you and me."
And now I'm sniffling, and my hair's wet on my back, and the tears are pushing forth. Crap. I hate the way my voice breaks when I try to respond. "Exactly. And I want to do it for you."
His warmth presses against my side and his arm cradles my shoulders. Now I can feel his words rumble in his chest as he speaks to me, patiently explaining the ways of anal training. "I get that, Isabella. And I appreciate it. And I want you to do it for me, too."
He nudges me playfully, hoping to break the solemnity of the moment. I appreciate his effort but it doesn't really work. "You realize," he continues, "this may be one thing that eludes you the harder you try for it. The whole key is relaxation."
"Hmm," I sniffle, "maybe I should have a drink next time."
"Normally it's not a good idea, but in this case, it actually might help."
"So you'll consider it?"
"I'll think about it. Are we clear on the stoplight system? You can't use green if you're in trouble. If you yellow, I will evaluate the situation and either push forward or cut back. That's not your call as my submissive. Understand?"
"Yes, Master," I gut out, admittedly with a sarcastic bite that Edward can't—and doesn't—miss.
His whole body tenses next to me. "You have a problem with that?"
I look into his grave face. There's not a drop of humor in his deep emerald eyes or in the tight lips drawn into a straight line.
"Honestly?" I ask, more respectfully this time.
"Always," he answers without hesitation. It doesn't escape my notice that his arm falls away from my shoulders.
"Okay. So I was a bit uncomfortable…"
He bristles and I correct myself.
"Fine, I was in pain. But shouldn't that be my choice?"
"Your choice?" The way his head pivots forward on his neck answers my question. "Do you recall last night when I asked if you were ready to be collared?"
"Of course."
"That was your last opportunity for choice until I released you from the scene. Well, that and safe-wording, which is always an available choice, of sorts."
I huff at the idea of safe-wording; I simply can't imagine I'd do it. I've trusted my Master implicitly since the beginning, and that intimacy has only grown deeper over time.
"Isabella," Edward says through clenched teeth. "Do you realize that I could have…damaged you? How do you suppose I could've lived with that?" His voice quivers with the possibility.
Finally, understanding dawns and her eyes widen with contrition. "But it was my fault," she whispers.
"Isabella, no. I'm responsible for everything that happens in a scene. It makes things dangerous for both of us when you start to think that control belongs to you. And I won't allow it."
I'm trying not to flip out on her, but she needs to understand the severity of the situation.
"I'm sorry," she says, swiping the fresh tears from her cheeks. "I didn't realize…I thought I was…ugh."
"It's okay; this is all part of the training, sweetheart. People on the outside tend to think submission is about being passive and just letting someone 'do stuff to you,’ but you already know better. My end game here isn't getting you to the bottom of that nine-inch toy, or even necessarily being able to penetrate you myself, though I must admit that would certainly be a fine outcome."
Her lips quirk up and I smile too, but I press on. "This is about the two of us taking a journey together. Is it about the physical? Sure, but let's face it. If that's all you needed, your boyfriend could suffice—quite nicely, I hasten to add. It's your Master who's going to lead you down into dark, swirly, dangerous places you'd never visit without him, most of which reside right here."
I pause to point to her temple.
"What I'm saying is, I don't judge the scene by anything other than how I was able to move you into that zone we both want to be in together. And frankly, I can do that with this one-inch finger rimmer just as effectively as a monster dildo."
She shifts uncomfortably on the seat. "Please don't mention monster dildos right now."
I chuckle with her. "Sorry, but you get my meaning?"
"Yes, sure. I mean the other night, when you had me spread out on the counter…you weren't even touching me and I was going wild."
"Exactly. I wasn't exaggerating when I complimented your courage. This is really difficult. You're allowing me to push on a soft limit, and I cannot begin to tell you how much your faith means to me. I don't need you to…" I use air quotes so she's sure to understand. "… 'help' me push you."
"Okay. Point taken, and apology proffered."
"Apology accepted, now that I know you understand my meaning. What else would you like to talk about? It was a long, rough scene."
"Especially being tied to the bed all night," she laments. "I don't think I slept a wink."
"Oh, you were definitely sleeping when I woke up," I smirk, recalling her needy thrashing. "And from the looks of things, having yourself quite a hot dream."
"Well, what did you expect after making me watch all that hard-core porn and then torturing me with that feather…and then making me listen to you pleasure yourself right next to me? Mean, mean, mean!"
"You flatter me, my dear," he says evilly. I roll my eyes because really, what else can I do? "So are you saying you wouldn't be game for another overnight any time soon?"
"What? I didn't say that at all! Of course I would! Sleep is highly overrated."
"God, I fucking love you, Isabella." He attacks my lips in a sudden fit of passion that takes us both by surprise.
"Right back at ya, meanie," I tease, taking his lower lip between mine and nipping gently.
Suddenly I notice a warm delicious smell rising from the kitchen area. "Hey, are you cooking something?"
"Yeah," he grins, ultra-proud of himself. "I threw in the roaster with those little potatoes all around it."
"Hmmm, impressive."
"I am a man of many talents, Isabella," he says, punctuating his remark with yet another deep sensual kiss.
I push back on his chest, breaking away from his delicious mouth. "What, you think you can get into my sweatpants just because you truss up some unsuspecting chicken and toss him in the oven?"
His green eyes sparkle with glee. "Are you saying I can't?"
"Right now? Seriously? What's this, number four for you today?"
Edward chuckles. "I wasn't aware there was a maximum."
"Don't you think you better pace yourself?"
"Why? The last time was over two hours ago!"
"Why don't you tell me about the football game instead?"
"What?" he laughs.
"Yeah, I got way behind in all this playoff junk. How do you expect me to hold an intelligent conversation?"
He stares at me, not quite believing that I'm turning him down. And I stare back, not exactly wanting to confess that my ass is too sore to accommodate his desires—or mine, for that matter.
He lets it go after a few beats, stretching his legs across the coffee table. "Okay, the Giants are playing the Falcons. The winner of this game will go on to play Green Bay…"
"You want the leftover chicken for lunch tomorrow?"
"No, you take it. I'm just gonna go with a PB&J at my desk. Rosalie tends to grab me to chat after I eat and I don't want to be wearing a layer of grease."
"Grab you, huh?" Isabella asks, amusement apparent in her voice as she dries off the roasting pan I scrubbed clean.
"So are you ready for your command performance?"
"I'll polish it a bit more tonight and tomorrow, but yeah, I've given the presentation several times before. With the blessing of my immediate supervisor, it's pretty much a no-brainer for management."
"That's great, Edward. It's really going to change things for you at work. You're going to be your own boss."
I stoop to return the pan to the drawer below the oven. "Nothing I enjoy more than that!"
"Obviously," she replies. "But still…"
When I snap back to my full height, I find Isabella deep in thought, carving knife forgotten in mid-air. Curious.
"What is it, baby?" I slip an arm around her waist.
"You got me thinking yesterday."
"About that bet you lost." Her face takes on that expression I've come to know and love, the one that tells me Isabella has just unlocked the doors of the kink factory and she's open for business.
I step closer to her backside, pressing myself against her and hooking my chin over her shoulder. "Yeah, what about it?"
"I'm just wondering if there's any chance I might ever win such a bet." She angles her head sideways, and I catch her questioning look.
"Am I to assume that you would have…plans if such an occasion should arise?"
"You may." She smiles full-on and I want to jump into those eyes and dance around inside her head until I find those plans.
"'Zat right?" I play along.
"Mmm hmm. So, then, would the answer be yes?"
"I don't know, Isabella. I've submitted in two situations, and now you know both. One was the dom I went to for training, and the other was an unfortunate bet I wasn't expecting to lose. I told you, I'm absolutely not a switch."
She's still watching me with the full expectation that there's a 'but' coming next. And there is.
"But…" That's all it takes to cause a brilliant smile on her face. "I can't actually believe I'm saying this, but I could envision a time when I might feel comfortable with the concept…for you."
She twists her body around so we're face to face and wraps her hands behind my neck.
"Shit, honey, could you set that cleaver down please? Knife play is a definite hard limit!"
Her giggle tinkles in the air between us as she safely stows the blade and pulls me in for a kiss.
"Did I mention that I meant once?" I add hastily between enthusiastic kisses.
"But what if you really like it?"
Christ. "Once, Isabella."

"Okay, okay. Stop raining on my parade."
Settled in what now feel like "our spots" on the couch, me at my end, back to the rolled arm, knees folded and feet planted but periodically creeping to Edward's half; Edward situated against his end at a forty-five degree angle so he can keep one eye on me and one on the game, long legs stretched luxuriously across the seat on either side of my legs, his feet resting under my knees. In short, tangled together and right where we both want to be.
I figure I'll use the free time to write my sub journal entry tonight and cash in on the extra sleep in the morning. But before I get that far, I've got comments to read. Edward eyes me closely, in case something has slipped past his security gates. But he needn't worry, the first entry is from Less Than Vanilla.
P- It's one thing to sub in the privacy of your own home, but I think this first public scene must have been quite daunting especially as it was so "normal" and quite a challenge to be able to get in the right frame of mind. This was different for you from the previous role plays, but you seem to have found that you can do/ be this as it is intrinsic, and not a game.
You are very lucky to have such a Master who paces your training so well for you, pushing you just up to the edge of your comfort zone. Just one thing- wondering whether or not having no errors is desirable gives an indication that you just might enjoy Master's chastisements! Take care. <V
Oh, LTV, if you only knew how I just pushed Master so far out of his comfort zone. But I'm not ready to share such intimate details quite yet.
LTV- I've been forewarned, I'll never achieve the kind of perfection where Master could not find some way of improving me with his crop, paddle or open palm. And your supposition is correct—on some level, of course, I do appreciate (if not enjoy) Master's chastisements. Though the sensual spankings are much preferred, there's something so intrinsically satisfying about knowing that Master cares about me enough to take his time to correct me when I don't get it quite right. And because I trust that he never lashes out in anger, but only with my best interests at heart, the punishments are something to avoid, but not necessarily to dread.
I notice you've left off your previous warning to keep my head and stay safe, and by that, I'm assuming you realize I'm in the best possible hands. Thanks for watching out for me! ~p
The next new comment is from an unfamiliar name. I quickly ascertain that this one's a real sub. I gobble her words like red and orange Mike-and-Ikes.
yp, I've been with my Master for 16 years and I still get a red ass from time to time. But I think, oh who am I kidding, I enjoy it! In my 16 years I don't think I've ever met one that doesn't to some extent... lol
I was beyond nervous my first public scene. Mine was a company function for Master. And oh how He had Himself some fun. But I trusted that He would take care of and watch over me and as the amazing Master that He is, He made sure that I had an unbelievably pleasurable night as my reward...*wink wink*
For me, handing everything over to Master is what is truly freeing for me. I have only Him to please. And pleasing Him gives me the greatest of joys. I hope you continue to rise to the challenges that Master gives you. I think that is how we become the subs we want to be for our Masters.
Always, His kitten (Skerbo to you)
"Wow what?" Edward asks.
"Wow another sub wrote to me about our public scene. She's been subbing for sixteen years!"
Edward's grin fills his face. "That's gonna be us."
Now I'm grinning, too. "Think so?"
"Sure. Why not? We're great together."
"Think you've got sixteen years' worth of material?"
"Easily. And you've got another fifty where that came from."
"Perfect. That'll shoot us just past the one hundred mark!"
He grimaces adorably, then shakes it off and shrugs his shoulders amiably. "I may be chaining you to your walker, but if you're still game, I'll be right next to you holding the leash."
"That's gross, baby. Here, listen to this…" I read him the part about the company function, and Edward's eyebrows lift, probably cooking up ideas. He gestures for the laptop and I scoot it over to him so he can read the rest of her comment.
"I have only Him to please," he quotes. "'…that is how we become the subs we want to be for our Masters.' Nice sentiment. Give 'his kitten' my love, will you please?"
Isabella's efficiency affords me the luxury of reading her sub journal entry right next to her on the couch. She twists her hands nervously in her lap at the opposite end of the couch while I scroll through what was obviously a difficult entry for her.
OVERNIGHT/Journal Entry Five
January 8, 2012

Master's assignment: Describe your night on the floor
This is a tough assignment, Master. You know I had a rough night. I was cold, uncomfortable, and tired. I was frustrated that sleep eluded me and I was frustrated that I couldn't relieve the sexual tension you'd built up not only by the mere act of binding me to the floor at your bedside, but also by teasing me relentlessly before finding your own release. And it certainly didn't help that I was close enough to feel the flutter of the sheets as you rocked in the bed, taking care of yourself the way I would have loved to have taken care of you.
But the worst part was the loneliness. Because there you were, so very close. And utterly unattainable. I recalled your comforting words about being with me even when it seems you weren't, but I have to say I had a rough time convincing myself of that through your soft snores (sorry, Master). And that's when the most terrible idea struck. I'm not even sure I should admit it to you, but…well, here's to honesty! I thought about waking you, Master. Not in an honest way, like safe wording, but just by shuffling around and making noise. I knew it was awful and wrong and there would be consequences, and I didn't do it (obviously), but, well, I thought it. I tell you this so you can appreciate the depths of my despair in that moment.
I told myself I could do better for your sake, and fortunately, I got through.
I finally settled into subspace in what must've been the wee hours of the morning, focusing myself solely on reveling in my submission. I repeated your words in my head like a mantra: "Do you have any idea how pleased I am to know that as I sleep and dream, you will be right here, just like this, just for me?" And that did help, more than anything.
And waking up to your devilish expression hovering over me was just about the best end to a rough night ever, even though I knew I was in for more delicious torture.
Maybe next time, I'll just skip the frustration and petulance and get right to the reveling.
With deepest gratitude for you, Master,
~your princess
"Are you game for discussing this now? We've hashed out an awful lot today."
"Sure," she answers. "And I just remembered a question I meant to ask you earlier."
"Oh yeah? What's that?"
A curtain of dark pink falls over her face, piquing my interest. "I know I'm not allowed to touch myself without your permission during a scene…"
"But what if…I…don't touch myself…butIcomeanyway?"
I squelch the guffaw trying to escape, considering how hard it was for her to ask. "Oh, you mean like spontaneous combustion?"
"Something like that, yeah. Aided by hard core porn and teasing."
"That's an excellent question. I would say that unless I've specifically forbidden it, if you have the ability to harness your brain power with that level of precision, you should be duly rewarded. In fact, I might even want to see if I can bring that on myself."
She appears relieved, whether because the question's been asked and answered or because she now has permission to come willy nilly I cannot be sure. I think I'll poke around a bit and find out. I tap her leg with my foot so she looks up.
"Were you close?" I know it didn't happen because I would've been able to tell. Besides, she would've already confessed.
"There were a couple times the thought crossed my mind, yeah."
"You could've asked, you know. I've always been open to your questions during a scene, unless you're gagged or I'm trying to keep your voice out of the room."
"I know. I just figured it was safer to ask you later."
"Okay. So…your entry."
She flinches as if I might be angry.
"I realize I was hard on you this time. I was testing you."
"And?" she asks timidly.
"The fact that you considered waking me is normal and to be expected. And you're right; it would've been a terrible strategy. You don't ever want to try and manipulate me. You would've been better off calling out and waking me directly if you really needed to, or if worse came to worst, as you pointed out, safe wording. And that's why my claim to be there with you holds truth."
"So, if I had woken you, in a non-manipulative manner? What would've happened?"
"Two different answers. The safe word would've stopped the scene, with no consequences to you. I would've evaluated the situation and figured out if and how to proceed. And I would've ratcheted down my expectations a notch or two, understanding that I'd asked too much."
"Well that's not what I wanted or needed."
"No. Because I didn't ask too much of you. You were perfectly capable of finding your strength and getting through."
"And what about the other?"
"If you'd woken me to tell me you were having trouble, I most likely would've talked you down from the ledge and dealt with the consequences in the morning. And you should know that interrupting my sleep is not generally a wise move. I tend to get grouchy."
"Good to know."
I set the computer down on the table and crook my finger to beckon Isabella to my end of the couch. She settles herself in my lap atop my outstretched legs and laces her hands behind my neck. "What?" she asks, "More words to the wise?"
"Yes," I answer. "I'm really proud of you for letting your submission be your solution. That's major."
She dips her face into the crook of my neck and I let my thumbs slide under her tank top. "Thanks," she whispers into my skin.
"No, sweetheart. Thank you."

A/N: To my sub journal commentators, Skerbo and LTV, thank you for participating in the story.


  1. AHHHHHH ok... me thinks I understand now! Thanks for clarifying all that.

  2. I think I got that right....He needs to be able to trust her to safe-word if she freaks. I like that he was proud of her for using her submission as a solution. Sorry to see she didn't take well to anal. I've never experienced that although my ex tried once years ago. Neither of us knew what we were doing and I just had him stop as it hurt too badly....