Indulgence (127 page)

“Oh, and in other ways too,” he answers quietly, then leans
over and kisses me on the cheek as I drive. I want to stop and crawl up into
his lap right there.

An hour and a half later, Jaz and I park in front of my
little house. I turn off the car as Melissa pulls in behind me, and Jaz turns
to me. Something in his eyes tells me he doesn’t want to leave with her. “Want
me to walk you up to the door?”

“Yes, please.” We leave the privacy of the car and Melissa
puts down her car window. I decide to be first. “Bye, Melissa! It was fun.”

“Yeah, it was! Thanks, Kimmie. Hope to see you again
sometime.”

“Oh, I hope so too.” When we reach the door, I turn, my eyes
searching his face. “Did I do okay?”

His arms wrap around my waist. “Baby, you did great. I think
she really likes you.”

“I really like her too. She seems like a great kid.”

“She is. She’s had a really rough time of it since Meredith
. . . well, ancient history. Anyway, I’m glad you went with us. Although I was
hoping that we’d . . .” He nuzzles my neck and I suppress a little giggle.

“I know. There’s time for that. In the meantime, why don’t
you work on that contract, Sir?”

“I’ll do that, sub.” As his hand sweeps a stray hair off my
face, I draw my hands behind me and lean against the door, and he reaches
around to hold my wrists together tightly. “I meant every word, angel. I love
you. We’re just getting started.”

I breathe a silent sigh of relief. Everything’s okay. “Good.
Because I love you too. And I think we’ve got something to work with here,
don’t you?”

“Absolutely. Call you later?”

“I’ll be upset if you don’t.” I lean out and give him a peck
on the lips. “Get back to Miss Melissa out there. Talk to you in a bit.”

“You know it. Bye.” With that, he gives me a peck back and
heads to the car, and I stand and watch as they drive away, everyone waving.

There’s laundry to be done, and the dishwasher to unload,
and the bathrooms to clean. But I spend most of the day on the sofa, napping
and daydreaming about Jaz. I hate that he’s just a dozen or so miles away but I
can’t see him. Thinking about all of it, I can’t believe it’s all happened so
fast, but I also can’t imagine not being with him. I basically just mope about
all afternoon and evening, and when my phone rings at around eight, I snatch it
up and answer without even looking. “Hello!”

His voice is pure silk. “Hey. Have a good day?”

“Spent most of it thinking about you. Did you and Melissa
have a good visit?”

“Yes. And we were right: She needed some ‘dad’ time. Her
girlfriend left and spread some really nasty rumors about her. She’s pretty
torn up about it.” There’s silence for a few seconds before he adds, “She needs
a mom.”

I nod to myself. “I’m sure she does. Every girl does,
straight, gay, or bi. They all need a mom. Although I’m betting the two of you
were pretty close while she was growing up.”

“Always. Still are.” He starts to chuckle. “She said, ‘You
know the only reason I thought what she was doing was gross is because I’m a
lesbian.’ Her way of smoothing it over, I guess. But it’s still a shock when
your college-age daughter comes in and finds your girlfriend sucking your
dick.”

I smile there, alone in my living room, and say,
“Girlfriend, huh?”

“Unless you don’t want to be.”

I purr into the phone, “I love you, Jaz Givens.”

“And I love you, Kimmie Hendricks. I guess I should hang up.
I’ve got to put my bed back together before I can get in it for the night. You
wrecked it.”

I feign indignation. “I had help.”

“Yes you did. Will you come over and wreck it again soon?”

“I absolutely will.” I try my best sexy voice. “Or you can
come here and wreck mine.”

“I’d like that a lot.” My eyes close and I sit and enjoy
that feeling of warmth running through my veins at the thought of being in his
arms. “So I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Night, babe.”

“Night, Sir. Kisses.”

“Mwah, little girl.”

Clutching the phone to my chest, I sigh and smile. If
someone had told me ten years ago that I’d be in love in my fifties, I would’ve
told them they were insane. But it’s true. Ass over teacup – I’m all in.

Club? 6:00?

I text back quickly:
See you there.

We’ll go out for a drink after if you want.

I send one of those cute little “thumbs up” things and think
about his warm hands all over my skin. Little snaps like popcorn popping run up
and down my spine as I imagine it.

At five ‘til six, I walk into the club and sit down on a
stool. As soon as my butt hits the vinyl top, he walks in. Watching him stroll
across the floor toward me makes my whole body sing, and I want him
desperately. Reaching for me, he gives me a little peck on the lips. “Scene
with me?”

“You bet.”

“Go change. I’ll snare us a room when I come out.” He takes
my hand and leads me that direction, then turns me loose in the doorway with a
smile.

Laying out the new things I’ve bought, I smirk to myself.
Boy, is he going to be surprised, and that’s what I want, so I slip on my short
satin robe to make sure that happens. Dressed and ready, I wander back out to
find him at the bar. His eyes are locked on my neck as he watches me come up to
him, and he whispers, “Room three,” and leads me away and down the hallway.

This room isn’t as familiar to me as some of the others.
I’ve only been in here maybe three times. It doesn’t have a lot of equipment in
it, and I wonder what he’s up to. When the door closes, his first act is to
take me in his arms and kiss me. “Wow. Do all Doms do this with their subs?” I
ask with a giggle.

“Only the good ones. Come over here and sit down.” Before I
do, I untie and drop the robe on the floor, and he’s treated to a view of my
new fuchsia shelf bra and crotchless panties. His eyebrows shoot up in delight
and a huge grin spreads across his face. “Well, sub, thank you for that view.
It’s spectacular. Guess there’s no need to book a sightseeing tour of Europe –
I like the sights here a lot better!” In a low, sexy growl, he adds, “After
all, these are totally interactive.” Once we’re perched on the edge of the bed,
he takes both my hands in his. “The contract. Do you want to see it?”

I don’t even have to think about it – I’d already decided.
“Yes. I do.”

“Okay then. I made up one that’s pretty generic. We can add
or delete before the final one is drafted. See what you think.” He reaches in
his gig bag and hands me the folded paper.

He’s right – it is pretty generic. It’s mostly who’s in
charge and how, meaning the knowledge of and say in what I eat, where I go,
what I do. There’s an agreement over sharing of the housework; I like that.
There’s a section governing disagreements, as in being respectful, listening to
each other’s opinions, working toward compromise, and what we’ll do if no
compromise can be reached. Simple and clear. Problem solved. In thinking about
it, I think it might be nice to not have that much responsibility for a change.

This section makes me feel comfortable about the whole
thing:

Upon the decision to cohabitate, the Dominant will make
every effort to maintain an account for the submissive which includes any
monies she brings into the contract, as well as regular contributions to
increase the amount. This account will be surrendered to the submissive at such
time that the contract is broken.

So I’ll be taken care of if he breaks the contract. I like
that. And then I see a section that takes my breath away.

Upon being presented with the Dominant’s collar, the
submissive will wear the collar at all times except when not practical
(showering, heavy manual labor, hair cutting/coloring, etc.) or at the
discretion of the Dominant. Return of the collar by the submissive will be
perceived as a breaking of the contract, rendering all agreements null and
void. Requesting the collar’s return shall signify a breaking of the contract
by the Dominant, and the submissive’s services are no longer required.

He’s basically negotiating a marriage. Stopping myself isn’t
an option when I realize what he’s outlined. “So are we going to live
together?”

Jaz just shrugs. “I don’t know. We haven’t gotten that far.
Those sections are so that if we do, we’ll both be protected. Do you think
that’s adequate?”

“It’s more than adequate. I can see you put a lot of thought
into this.”

A sweet smile crosses his face. “I put a lot of thought into
this because it’s really important to me.”

“Thanks.” I fold it and hand it back. “I don’t see anything
that needs to be changed. I guess it’s just a matter of you deciding if and
when you want this to take place.”

“When
we
want this to take place. Sounds good to me.
I’ll make up clean copies for signing so that both of us have one.” With that,
he stuffs the contract back in his bag, then returns his attention to me. “Now,
as in the contract, show me your presentation pose and we’ll work out the
kinks. Oh. I think I just made a joke,” he snorts. I giggle and do as he
instructed before, kneeling, leaning back, and grasping my ankles with my
hands. He instructs me further, telling me that I can rest my weight on my
hands and ankles as I lean back. “Let’s be honest here. Neither of us is
twenty-five anymore. If that’s not comfortable for you, it can be modified
until it is. The only kind of discomfort I want to cause you is the type you
want. So if something hurts unnecessarily, you need to say so.”

“Yes, Sir.” I can’t help it – I giggle again.

“What?”

“I guess it’s official.” Seeing his brow furrow in
puzzlement, I offer, “You’re my Sir.”

His eyes close and the corners of his mouth turn up almost
imperceptibly. “I guess I am. I hope you don’t live to regret that.”

“I doubt that I will. Is this good, Sir?” I ask when I’ve
got the presentation to a point where I think I can tolerate it for a long
period of time.

“Very good. You look beautiful. Eyes downward. Now, I’ve got
to get everything else ready. I’ll only be a couple of minutes.” He heads back
to the bed and tinkers around with some things laid out there. I’m not sure
what all of those things are, but I do sneak a peek to see a bundle of rope and
something with a long electrical cord. I have no idea what he’s planning, but
honestly, I’m not afraid. I trust Jaz. Everything he’s done with me has felt so
right that the idea of something new is exciting, not frightening. Being
patient and waiting is hard when I know he’s going to blow my mind.

When he comes back to me, he has rope. “Stand up and
everything off.” And I spent some money on this getup too. Oh, well – who
cares, right? Once I’ve complied, he turns me with my back to him. He reaches
around me and begins the process of tying around my torso in various patterns,
isolating each breast, securing me in every direction. Then I realize: For all
intents and purposes, he’s made a sling out of rope, a sort of on-the-body
hammock. I start to guess what he’s going to do.

And I would be right. There are already ropes with hooks
hanging from eye bolts in the ceiling, tied off on a cleat on the wall.
Unwinding the rope from the cleat and pulling it down, he passes two of the
hooks, large chrome S-hooks, through his rope creation and hooks them into
something at my shoulders. The other two are hooked to something at my hips. He
tightens the ropes and then says, “Kimmie, trust me. I won’t let you fall. Do
you understand?”

“Yes, Sir. I believe you.”

“Good. Here we go.” I watch as he ties off the ropes at my
shoulders, then begins to tighten the ones on my hips. In a matter of seconds,
my feet rise off the floor. As soon as my hips are at the level he wants them,
he begins to lower my shoulders. I’m trying to figure out what he’s going to do
next when he pulls my arms behind me and ties them. Curiosity about what will
be done for my legs is satisfied when he pulls one up and secures it with rope
to the suspension rope coming off that hip. He goes to the other side and does
the same, and suddenly, I realize I’m trussed up like a hog on a spit. There I
hang, swaying gently like a bird feeder in the breeze. And I’m pretty sure this
is when the fun begins.

I couldn’t have been more right once again. Out of nowhere,
a black scarf appears and wraps around my head, covering my eyes. When he’s
satisfied that I can’t see, I hear him doodling around with something. The
minute he turns it on, I hear it crackle to life.

But when it touches me, I’m completely unprepared. The
electrical charge, like a light switch on a cold winter evening, snaps my skin
alive and makes me shriek. “Hush. Keep silent.” It makes contact again, and it
takes everything in my being to keep from screaming out. “Safeword?”

I don’t have to think about it. Whatever he’s planned for
me, I want to experience it. “No, Sir.”

“Very good.” As he’s speaking, Jaz draws a hand over every
spot he’s zapped, calming the nerve endings as he goes. It’s then that it
occurs to me: He has very soft, warm hands. It’s like being calmly and quietly
stroked into oblivion, and I remember what he told me before with the
Wartenberg. As he starts again, I try hard to concentrate only on the point
where the wand makes contact. Now, instead of just zapping random spots, he
begins to trail the wand over my skin, gently wandering about on my body,
leaving behind a tingling path over which he runs those hands. Before I realize
it, I’m lost in the sensations, the electricity lighting up my nerve endings
until my skin’s hypersensitive, followed by the soothing warmth of his palm.
Just tingle, smooth, tingle, smooth, and a cadence develops. My breathing has
started to fall into rhythm with his movements, and I feel myself anticipating
the next touch of his fingertips, longing for it.