Read Domination Sex: Conditioned Response for Free Online

streak—do I even desire it?—that would have him parading
me in public like his personal sex slave? When he eases his hold on
my wrists, I jerk my hands away and twine my arms tight around his
neck. That’s my answer.
    In a daze, I let Jay lead me back
inside. It reminds me a little of the dream I had the morning I
drove up here, slipping into a simple little white dress in the
bedroom while watching him change clothes. There’s something
thrillingly intimate about such a ritual.
    The restaurant he’s taking me to is a
bit of a destination with couples from the city, so Jay changes his
jeans and polo for black pants and a black jacket, paired with a
crisp white shirt. “Grab a tie for me off the rack in the wardrobe,
will you, love?” he asks as he’s slipping on his shoes.
    I shouldn’t get sappy at the idea of
picking out a tie for him, but I do. It’s something a serious
girlfriend or a wife…or a pleasure slave hopelessly in love with
him…would do. The first one to catch my eye is the familiar red
tie. I spend a moment running my fingertips over it before finding
Jay at my side watching me.
    “You remember that, don’t you?” he
whispers in my ear. “What I did with that tie?” I nod and moan as
he sucks at my earlobe. “You’re never going to get over me, Emma,
so you might as well give in.”
    I reach back to touch him, to run my
hands along his strong thighs. “I’m trying, but you keep refusing
my surrender.”
    Jay grabs my hand and draws me toward
the hallway. “Keep at it,” he teases. “Once more. Twice,
maybe.”
    Outside, I groan when I sit down in
the car. Jay might have let me put on a dress for dinner out, but
he made me keep the butt plug stuffed up my ass. The burning is a
low, constant, dull ache, and several times over the day I’ve
thought to myself that being fucked in my ass might actually be a
relief in comparison, the only way to scratch that itching need
building inside me.
    At the restaurant, I bite my lip when
the hostess shows us to our table and I discover their chairs are
wooden and hard. Thankfully, we’re in a dim, quiet corner, so I
don’t think anyone can hear my slight whimper when I settle
carefully on the seat or see my nipples get embarrassingly hard
from the stabbing pressure.
    Still, I think I maintain amazing
composure, sitting there looking so prim while so desperately wet,
wearing no panties, sitting on a butt plug. After my second glass
of wine, I even begin to relax.
    Then Jay leans near. “How is that
tight, sweet ass feeling, love?”
    The alcohol has taken the edge off my
anxiety. Or maybe it’s just spending these last two days in
constant need of him, hearing him say he wants me, he loves me.
“Warm,” I respond and share a knowing smile with him. “After
dinner, when we get back to the house, will you do it? Will you
fuck my ass if I beg you?”
    Jay takes a sip of his wine, pausing
to lick a drop from his lips. As always, too damn sexy. “You sure
you’re ready? You really need that?” When I nod, he tilts his head
and regards me with a look of doubt, before reaching into his
pocket.
    A faint buzzing precedes the sudden
eruption of strong vibration in my ass. My mouth falls open, at the
agonizing tremors rippling inside me, as Jay produces the small
black remote from his pocket and sets it on the white linen
tablecloth. I grab for it, but he takes both my hands and pins them
under the table. Anyone watching might think we were having a
romantic moment, leaning close, holding hands.
    “Bastard,” I hiss under my breath and
claw his thigh through his pants.
    “It makes your ass and your pussy
course with an electrical sort of pleasure, doesn’t it? If you
rocked just a little in the chair, I think you could make yourself
come.”
    “Stop it. Turn it off,” I plead,
burying my face in his shoulder so no one will see me panting and
mouthing silent moans. He’s right, I do…I do want to squirm in the
seat, to bounce, to force the