Tell Me What You Want Ch. 08

Hector grunted a nod, still twitching inside of her, his cock craving more of her body even as he dwindled.

"I own you now, do you understand that?"

Hector looked into the pretty face below him, her brows knotted, her expression grave. He nodded. Bea drew him down towards her into a kiss.

"Good boy," she murmured in his ear.

She stripped his wrist and ankle cuffs off, leaving him in just his slave collar, leading him by the little metal D-ring into the bathroom. They showered, then dried each other off, their words light and carefree, unburdened now after passing through that watershed moment. Hector felt again like he always did around Bea, but now there was something behind it too, a new foundation.

Freed from its confines, and after enduring such lengthy neglect, Hector's manhood firmed up again. Bea laughed, allowing herself to be manhandled back into the shower, lingering under the streaming water, making little unhurried fucking motions until she was unable to bear it anymore. She plunged down upon him mercilessly, taking her satisfaction in a way she would have never dreamed was possible with Brent, building them both up to a full-throated climax in the shower stall.

They behaved like teenagers, letting a late breakfast become lunch as Bea became ever more creative in her requirements for worship, demanding orgasm after orgasm like some Roman Empress, until Hector had to beg for mercy on his aching body, and rest.

The setting sun found them on the garden chair, cuddled up together, as naked as they had spent the rest of the day. Hector was curled around her, gently stroking her thigh. Bea backed into his body, pressing her rear against his crotch.

"Finally," she laughed.

"What?"

"Finally comfortable. Nothing poking me in the backside. I think I may have broken you."

"Maybe," Hector replied. "Or maybe I just need a few minutes."

"I think my worship quota is filled for the day."

"Would Mistress care to be worshipped with my lips? They're still willing."

"No, slave, your tribute has been accepted. You may cease."

Bea drew his arms around her, looking up into the sky as the blue tinged into gold.

"You dropped for me, just here, remember?"

"Dropped?"

"Yes. You were cleaning my shorts, remember? I watched you go. One minute Hector was kneeling there in front of me, and then the next...."

She turned in his arms, trying to read his face.

"It was amazing to see it. I got such a thrill. I think I figured it out."

"How it happened?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

Bea delayed her answer, her expression becoming sombre.

"Tell me, Mistress, please," Hector prompted.

"Bea. It needs to be Bea."

"Okay, tell me Bea."

"Rapport," she replied, simply, "Trust."

"Is that it?"

"Yes, but saying that's it makes it sound like an easy thing, when it's not. It's such a delicate thing to establish between two people. The acceptance, the release from responsibility, the faith in the other, the submissive bonding themselves to the dominant."

Bea looked sad.

"What is it, Bea?"

Bea paused, as if unwilling to continue.

"Please, you can tell me," Hector insisted.

"That's the issue. The slave bonds to his mistress. But it's your mistress you bonded to, Heck," Bea told him, her voice dropping to a murmur, "Not your wife."

Hector stared down at Bea's pretty face, glowing in the last light of day, nestled in his arms.

"Tell me what you want, Heck," she said.

"I can't tell you that," he rasped.

Bea sighed, twining her fingers around his.

"Lotte's gonna be here in half an hour," she murmured.

"I know."

Bea looked down at their entwined hands. She was silent for a long time.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

---

[Hector, Bea and Lotte will return later in the year, in Total Female Control. Follow me to be notified when the next story begins.

If you like what you read, please leave a comment or a star rating. Constructive feedback is always welcome. If you want further adventures, or to check out my other stories, my story page is here]