not
in a ‘don't do anything’ way." She tried to explain. "It's more in an
‘oh my god, I hope I don't mess up and disappoint you’ way."
Callan puled onto his parking spot and stopped the
car. "You won't. Ever. Because I want what's
right for you. Always and only that. Yes I'll push you, as you well know. As
you also know you have the power of veto, and no go."
Mason rubbed her ass. The red stripes she wore there
most days were perfect and loved—proof of that pushing. She'd never allowed
herself to enjoy a flogging until Callan showed her how many ways she could.
"I know and I lo—"Mason stopped. They'd
never said love to each other, apart from when he used it as a term of endearment.
Callan took her hand.
"And I lo—” He stopped as well and laughed.
"Yeah, and I love you. So, pet?"
"So, Sir." Mason laughed.
"Green, green, and green, and I love you. I'm ready." She stifled the
butterflies that danced in her tummy. Callan took hold of her chin and turned
her head toward him. What he saw in her eyes obviously satisfied him, because
he nodded and kissed the tip of her nose.
"Then let's go." He got out of the car,
walked around the front, and opened her door to help her. "Remember
everything we've discussed." He locked the car and held her arm as they
made their way into the building and up to his office.
The building was as silent as ever. Thank goodness for soundproofing, I reckon .
The police wouldn't take kindly to being summonsed by a concerned citizen who
heard screams, only to discover a happy and willing sub enjoying a nice
whipping.
She giggled. Callan looked at her, a query in his
eyes.
"Thinking thank goodness for
soundproofing." She told him her thoughts and he laughed.
"As you say. Right, are you still
happy to go ahead, pet?"
"Yes, Sir." She was.
"Then dress off and let's go." Callan
walked across to his desk and leaned against the edge. He never took his gaze
of her. That penetrating look no longer made her feel like an insect on a pin,
ready to be dissected. It made her feel cherished.
She slipped the dress off and checked her reflection
in the mirror. Just as they'd decided. Her lips were
coated in the same red of her shoes and thong. Her red bustier trimmed with
sexy black lace sat low over her breasts, and skimmed the top of her nipples.
Mason knew that wouldn't always be the case, but, as ever it was, one tiny step
at a time.
"Ready, Sir." Mason walked over the
oatmeal-colored carpet and knelt in front of him. Her body throbbed with
excitement. She clasped her hands loosely behind her and bent her head.
"Good girl." Callan tugged her hair until
she lifted her head and looked at him. It was a heady feeling to see the
approval, pleasure, and now she knew, love in his expression.
"Are you happy to wear your token?" He
picked up the delicate silver chain she wore on their previous visit.
"Yes please, sir." Mason held out her arm
and Callan fastened the chain around her wrist. He bent to make sure the clasp
had closed properly. His own scents of musky male and citrus cologne swept over
Mason. Her pussy spasmed and she was sure her thong darkened with her juices.
He knew, of course. His amused glance swept downward
and then back to her face, bringing a fresh wave of heat powering over her. She
grinned, and waved her hand to see the beautiful diamond knot on her wrist
glint and sparkle in the light.
"I love this."
"Good. Let's go, pet. Remember protocol matters
now." Callan took her hand and led her toward the door.
Mason swallowed as excitement tightened her skin,
and her heart beat erratically.
****
Callan felt the faint tremors rippling through
Mason. She looked pale under the flush of arousal that washed over her in ever
increasing waves. It was up to him to ensure the next hour or so was good,
perfect, and proper for them both.
Wax play, his favorite scene. They'd played a fair
bit at home, and Mason could climax almost immediately the first drops hit her
skin. If he let her.