Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
If her curiosity about consensual non-consent is anything to go by, I’d bet it’s more likely the latter.
I smirk as I begin to type out a message for my little author, knowing my words excite her even though that’s her specialty.
RomanticSadistLL: Adorable. But you haven't felt the full effect of that name until I gently place the edge of my finger under your chin to raise your eyes to mine, lean in to give you a sweet kiss on the cheek, and then whisper into your ear “You please me greatly and make my heart smile. I am happy you're mine, sweet little one.”
I press Send and tilt my head back to rest on the back of my leather office chair, closing my eyes and picturing what I illustrated in the message. In my head, she’s on her knees, legs spread, her arms crossed behind her back as she grips her elbows. I’m knelt before her but still have to tilt her chin high because she really is a little thing.
Her eyes glisten with pleasure from just being in my presence, her anxiety about meeting in person long gone after all the training I’ve given her by then. I’ve barely even touched her, and I can already see her need for me as if it’s written on her lightly tanned skin in bold black ink. I kiss her cheek just as I told her I would, taking in the softness of her skin there, the scent of whatever she put on that makes her seem to glow. And when I whisper those words in her ear, I focus more on her body’s reaction to them than anything else in the world.
Shortness in breath.
An instant flush accompanied by goose bumps along her skin.
A shiver of her feminine shoulders.
And a seemingly unconscious rocking of her whole luscious body toward my own, as if pulled instinctively to the one who owns it.
I’m yanked out of the vision when my phone dings.
WillDive4Plants: That, Sir, was completely uncalled for.
A growl rumbles up from my chest and out into my office as I read what she called me without ever being told to do so. My cock is instantly rock-hard from the little sub calling me Sir. And of course she capitalized it. She would know it’s a sign of respect to a Dominant to capitalize whatever name you refer to them by.
WillDive4Plants: My watch is now telling me to breathe, so thanks for that LOL
Same, little one, I think to myself, but I don’t have time to reply as I’m paged for an incoming ambulance.
When I get back to my office two hours later, she’s only sent one message. I’m surprised by the intensity of the disappointment I feel that there’s not a string of her random thoughts for me to scroll through and enjoy, but when I read the one she sent, I get that she’s trying to write under different circumstances than before.
WillDive4Plants: Annoying not fun fact about our gym—no outlets by my locker room chair. Forced to sit with the peasants in the café instead of sprawled in a lounge chair by the hot tub 😆
I grin at her dramatics. From getting to know her this past week, it’s easy to tell she’s completely joking about the peasants comment. It’s just her funny little way of telling me she had to move locations. Again, probably without being consciously aware of what she’s doing, she informs me of things any 24/7 sub would be trained to tell their Dom, their Owner and Master. We always like to know exactly where our belongings are.
But I keep that to myself, allowing her to lie to herself that this thing between us is moving slowly, when really, I can already feel an attachment. From both sides. What I felt from the moment I heard her inside the dumpster that first night, the protectiveness and amusement, has grown exponentially. Not only that, but I enjoy the lightheartedness she brings out in me, when it seems like I’ve felt nothing but heaviness for years.
RomanticSadistLL: Ugh those BASTARDS
She replies within seconds, as if she’s been waiting to hear from me with bated breath. It makes all remnants of the disappointment I felt moments ago completely disappear, especially when I perceive she must’ve been holding off on texting me more than she did because she’s been so conditioned that it’s annoying. She’s sensitive to that feeling, more than anything else I’ve come across in our conversations so far. She’s been told time and time again by people throughout her life that she’s “too much,” and she’s been trying her best to keep herself reined in with me, when that’s the very last thing I want.
I want every bit of her she has to give. I want her to lavish her attention on me. I want her obsessed with me. And when she finally breaks down all the barriers her past conditioning built inside her and allows herself to smother me with her fixation, I will never, ever reprimand her for that. I will give her nothing but the praise she craves like it’s the air she breathes.