Negotiations 27
Hi, everyone! Just a reminder that this story is a writing experiment for me, and that I greatly appreciate your feedback. I imagine that some folks may be struggling with the reversed roles, but I kind of wanted that struggle because I believe that truth emerges from struggles. I hope you'll continue to share your thoughts. ~ Plum
Go back to Negotiations 26 or start at the beginning.
BRIAN’S POV
Headspace is an interesting thing. I pay little attention to mine when I’m in a dominant role, perhaps because it feels so natural. Headspace as a submissive is altogether different. It’s much harder to control. I feel powerless over my powerlessness...a new experience for me. And yet, I like it. My work ethic, however, is not a fan. I spent the work day with Hillary, basically instructing her how to please me at work, and now I want to just think about nothing other than pleasing Justin at home.
When I get in my car at the end of my work on Tuesday, I’m flooded with relief as I punch the gas pedal on the highway home. Relieved that I can think about him, just this, just what we’ll do tonight. I think about the smile he’ll give me when I walk through the door, how he’ll want me to kiss him right then regardless of what he’s doing, how he’ll want to know how I am. And I’m right about all these things. He’s pulling oven mitts off his hands as I request, “Can we wait on dinner?”
“You’re not hungry?” he asks.
“Can I just go straight downstairs please?”
Justin looks at me, his eyes carefully examining my face as he pulls me back to him by my waistband. We lean against the counter as I wait for an answer. “Bri, you okay?” he asks.
I lean down and rest my forehead on his shoulder; he strokes my hair as I tell him quietly, “It’s in my head constantly. I can’t think about anything else.” I feel him smile. He answers, “Sure, it’s just stew. Everything is ready for you down there. Go ahead.”
“Thank you.” He releases me, and I turn to walk the few steps to the basement door when I remember to ask, “What do I do?”
“Get undressed and wait for me. It’ll be self-explanatory.”
“Okay.”
My heart’s racing as I go down the wooden steps even though my body takes each step deliberately because now this path is new to me; I don’t walk down these steps feeling like I do now; I want to savor it. I pass through the wine cellar, and then stand at the dungeon door. It’s unlocked. I walk inside and feel instantly rewarded. The room’s warm from the fire and there’s a futon mattress on the floor in front of the flames that I completely forgot was stuffed under the four poster bed in here. There’s a wooden tray on the far side holding towels, lube, a black leather flogger, a black silk blindfold coiled in place, and a black velvet bag that I recognize immediately. It’s the pouch for his diamond plug. Assuming we’ll be spending our time on the floor, I use the bed as my clothing rack as I undress. I check my phone one last time, turn it off, and then lie down in front of the fire. I don’t stay there long as I feel awkward. I decide to kneel instead, my hands folded in my lap, my head bowed. It’s not really for him; I need to center myself. I breathe deeply--in and out--repeatedly, smiling when I hear his footsteps on the stairs.
This is my place.
**************
Justin enters, thanks me for following instructions, kicks his shoes off, and kneels down in front of me on the mattress. He presses his forehead to mine, his hand resting on my shoulder as he speaks, “Tell me what’s happening.”
I don’t raise my head; I stay still as I answer, “I think about this all day long.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“About you fucking me, in charge of me; I can’t stop thinking about it.” It feels good to just admit this to him, to say it aloud.
“Does it play in a loop?”
I nod, “Yes, and I can feel all of it, everything. I could almost come if I let myself.”
“But you didn’t?” He strokes both shoulders like I’m being hysterical or something. Fuck, maybe I am. I don’t even know.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Did you touch yourself at all?” he asks me as he slides his hand down my chest to my cock, and my entire body trembles when he wraps his hand around it.
“No, but I imagined it, which was almost worse.”
He hugs me; I lay my head on his shoulder as he observes, “Your entire body is vibrating right now.”
“I know.”
“I missed you, too,” he says and then he lifts my head which feels heavier than it ever has and kisses me, softly but intensely. It’s meant to comfort me. “Would you feel better if I let you come, Brian?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think you would.” His thumb skims the head of my cock, “You’re so wet.”
Justin blindfolds me and makes me jerk off for him while he gets undressed. He lays a soft towel on my leg when I’m close, and as I’m coming, I feel him standing in front of me. He lifts my chin, and put his dick in my mouth. He chokes me with it, and I struggle not to bite him as my release completes. I moan loudly as he leans over me, his hand rubbing my back. My eyes start to water as I gag.
Finally, he lets me go.
I cough several times as he slides the blindfold off and tells me to lie down. “Just relax, Brian.” So I do. He lies next to me as I recover by clearing my throat over and over. When I finally finish, he asks, “Did that loop stop?”
My eyes scan the room as I try to answer correctly, “Yes, it stopped.”
“Good, but now, you telling me about that loop is playing on a loop in my head.” We both laugh. Justin continues, “But I’ve thought about fucking you a lot today.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says as he slides on top of me. “I think about what it feels like on the first thrust, about how I can feel your entire body adjust and accept me. The way you hold your breath at first, the tension in your muscles, the expression on your face right before the ecstasy kicks in.”
“My loop is back,” I tease.
He grins, “And then I thought about how I want to fist you eventually--”
“I knew that was gonna come up,” I tell him.
“But I’m not in a rush. We’ll take our time.”
I have a beautiful memory about fisting Justin that is never far from my mind. We’re on vacation on the whitest sheets. He’s on his back with my hand completely inside him; his arms are tied over his head, and come is just pulsing out of his cock and pooling on his stomach. I remember that moment distinctly and then the hour afterward when he stayed tucked in my arms using our physical connection as life support.
The vulnerability exposed in that moment felt like a gift to me…
And that makes me remember…
“I bought something today,” I tell him this as he’s depositing kisses across my shoulder blades.
“What?”
“It’s in my briefcase. Go look.”
He gives me a funny look as he gets up and walks to the bed. He flips open my briefcase and pulls out the white mailing tube, “This?”
“Yep.”
“Dungeon blueprints?” he jokes.
“Nope. Open it.”
Justin pops the white plastic top off and pulls out the thick brown leather flogger slowly as it’s snug in the tube. When he sees the tiny spikes on the end of the leather strips, he presses them with his fingertips; his breath hitches and he snaps, “Ow. These are sharp.”
“Do you like it?”
“Where’d you get it?”
“That leather store on Liberty; it’s completely handmade.”
“It’s heavy. How much?”
“Three fifty.”
“The craftsmanship is astounding,” Justin says as his fingers explore it. “Did you test it before you bought it?”
“On my arm. It’s pretty fierce.”
Justin does the same and says, “Whoa.”
“I know, right?”
He sits back down beside and speaks in a patronizing tone, “You know you can’t just start with this, right? You have to build up to it.”
“Yes, Sir. I’m aware.”
“Ew, don’t call me, Sir. That feels all kinds of wrong,” Justin complains.
“I was doing it in jest. You call me Sir sometimes.”
“That’s completely different,” he says. “You were born a Sir.”
I suppose he’s right.
……..
It seems the evening has taken a bit of a weird turn which sort of makes me frustrated because I wanted this time to explore my headspace a little more, but now I’m uncomfortable with Justin’s headspace.
This is exhausting. And being exhausted in bed with Justin is usually a good thing, damn it.
I prop myself on my side and face him. He’s sitting cross legged in front of me with the new flogger draped across his legs. “You look a little lost, Justin.”
He looks down and toys with the flogger as he speaks, “I guess I kind of am.”
“Do you want me to come find you and bring you home?”
“No, that’s not fair to you,” he says with a shrug, and then he looks up at me earnestly, “This is like one of those Rubik’s cubes that frustrates the hell out of you, so you just want to cheat and move the stickers.”
“Were you playing with your Dad’s cube? That’s an old school hack, Sunshine.”
“Maybe I was,” he says, and he pokes me in the stomach with his foot. I catch it and yank him forward, “Put that flogger down and come here.” He sits it aside and lies next to me. I put my hand on his chest and he twines his fingers with mine as I talk, “All day long, you’re all I could think about. I wanted to come home and be at your mercy, even though I had no clue what that would mean. And I still want that.”
His blue eyes are wide open, “I should buy the sex toys for you; I should know what you want.”
“Please don’t be upset about that. Think of it as an offering, not an afront. I really like when you flog me. It feels like a reset, like you’re commanding my attention.”
“Okay, but we need to start slowly with the spikes. They’ll mark you if there’s any power behind them. Plus, it’s way heavier and longer than the one I practiced with.”
I reassure him, “Justin, I only went shopping because I couldn’t clear my head--”
“And that’s what you always do when you’re preoccupied,” he adds, “But it didn’t work,did it?”
”Of course not. Can I just lay it next to my head so I can smell it? The smell of new leather makes me hard.”
“Everything makes you hard, Brian.”
Justin gets up and turns off the overhead lights, and then returns to me, the black velvet bag in his hand. Before I can even say anything, he’s pulling out his expensive toy and asking me, “Do this for me, okay?”
“Sure.”
It’s a known known that I will take my time with this, that I will make sure he enjoys every second of it as he lies on top of me, hugging my shoulders, moaning into my neck. When it’s done, he thanks me and runs one fingertip down my cheekbone as he whisper, “When I fuck you--
“I know,” I say, “Push. You don’t have to tell me.”
He smiles at me, kisses me, and then blindfolds me again, positioning my arms so they’re over my head. He lays the new flogger across my neck; it’s heavy so it feels like a brace. I like the restriction. He lays the other flogger on my stomach and runs his hand over my chest. The routine begins: his touch alternating with the slap of the leather. I exhale, relax, and enjoy.
He rubs my stomach and then impact, my cock, another slap, my thighs, whoosh, slap, repeat…and then he moves back up my body, only now, he flogs first, then rubs. The heat from the fire, the darkness, the rhythm puts me in a trance…
I whisper his name, and he responds, “Hmm?”
“Don’t stop, okay?”
His hand brushes my forehead, “Do you want to roll over or stay like this?”
“Up and down five times, then roll over and repeat.”
He whispers, “Okay,” and kisses me. “I’ll start over so it’s not interrupted.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
……..
This sustained treatment Justin gives me allows me to untether myself from the wall of the pool we play in. That wall, that concrete border, is the dominance I rely on to get through the day, through life, through pain, and each strike of the flogger compromises my connection. What at first is a nuisance quickly morphs into an affirmation that I don’t need that wall to exist and it doesn’t need me. I can wander out into the middle of the pool and decide how deep I want to go or I can hang onto the rope between the shallow and the deep. I can just be.
I’m on my back, floating in our pool, when the new flogger is lifted off my neck. “Keep your legs bent and spread,” Justin says quietly like this is a covert operation. I feel the leather strips heavy on my balls and hold my breath as he carefully drags the length of the strands between my legs, over my cock and then my chest. He is careful, but the threat of pain is there.
When the ritual is over and he’s inside me, I’m underwater in the darker blue, in the deep, but I can breathe. I can exist to give him pleasure; I can feel every drop of me that he takes, and yet, it does not deplete me. He can fill me up and syphon off the rest for himself. I am changed yet still unaltered.
I am his.
…….
Justin naps next to me when it’s over, his back to the flames which by now I know are too hot. I move very carefully to reach the fireplace remote and turn it all the way down to burning embers. He wakes and rolls back on top of me, ordering me, “Don’t move.”
“I was saving your skin; look it that way,” I offer.
“Thank you for that fuck,” he says.
“You’re very welcome,” I respond, running my hands down his burning back, over his ass, my fingers circling the plug, “I pushed like you said.”
“That sent me over the edge; that was insanely amazing.”
“Well, it cost me a mint, so it better be that good.”
“Our sex toy budget is gonna be a line item on our taxes, Brian.”
“I tried that last year. Theodore said no.”
Justin laughs, “You should try this plug sometime, see what it feels like.”
“All you have to do is make me.”
Justin’s expression changes from a smile to a curious stare, his eyes narrow, “That is the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me, Brian.”
“Oh, I doubt that.”
“Don’t doubt it,” he scolds me.
And our journey continues....
Negotiations 28
Go back to Negotiations 26 or start at the beginning.
BRIAN’S POV
Headspace is an interesting thing. I pay little attention to mine when I’m in a dominant role, perhaps because it feels so natural. Headspace as a submissive is altogether different. It’s much harder to control. I feel powerless over my powerlessness...a new experience for me. And yet, I like it. My work ethic, however, is not a fan. I spent the work day with Hillary, basically instructing her how to please me at work, and now I want to just think about nothing other than pleasing Justin at home.
When I get in my car at the end of my work on Tuesday, I’m flooded with relief as I punch the gas pedal on the highway home. Relieved that I can think about him, just this, just what we’ll do tonight. I think about the smile he’ll give me when I walk through the door, how he’ll want me to kiss him right then regardless of what he’s doing, how he’ll want to know how I am. And I’m right about all these things. He’s pulling oven mitts off his hands as I request, “Can we wait on dinner?”
“You’re not hungry?” he asks.
“Can I just go straight downstairs please?”
Justin looks at me, his eyes carefully examining my face as he pulls me back to him by my waistband. We lean against the counter as I wait for an answer. “Bri, you okay?” he asks.
I lean down and rest my forehead on his shoulder; he strokes my hair as I tell him quietly, “It’s in my head constantly. I can’t think about anything else.” I feel him smile. He answers, “Sure, it’s just stew. Everything is ready for you down there. Go ahead.”
“Thank you.” He releases me, and I turn to walk the few steps to the basement door when I remember to ask, “What do I do?”
“Get undressed and wait for me. It’ll be self-explanatory.”
“Okay.”
My heart’s racing as I go down the wooden steps even though my body takes each step deliberately because now this path is new to me; I don’t walk down these steps feeling like I do now; I want to savor it. I pass through the wine cellar, and then stand at the dungeon door. It’s unlocked. I walk inside and feel instantly rewarded. The room’s warm from the fire and there’s a futon mattress on the floor in front of the flames that I completely forgot was stuffed under the four poster bed in here. There’s a wooden tray on the far side holding towels, lube, a black leather flogger, a black silk blindfold coiled in place, and a black velvet bag that I recognize immediately. It’s the pouch for his diamond plug. Assuming we’ll be spending our time on the floor, I use the bed as my clothing rack as I undress. I check my phone one last time, turn it off, and then lie down in front of the fire. I don’t stay there long as I feel awkward. I decide to kneel instead, my hands folded in my lap, my head bowed. It’s not really for him; I need to center myself. I breathe deeply--in and out--repeatedly, smiling when I hear his footsteps on the stairs.
This is my place.
**************
Justin enters, thanks me for following instructions, kicks his shoes off, and kneels down in front of me on the mattress. He presses his forehead to mine, his hand resting on my shoulder as he speaks, “Tell me what’s happening.”
I don’t raise my head; I stay still as I answer, “I think about this all day long.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“About you fucking me, in charge of me; I can’t stop thinking about it.” It feels good to just admit this to him, to say it aloud.
“Does it play in a loop?”
I nod, “Yes, and I can feel all of it, everything. I could almost come if I let myself.”
“But you didn’t?” He strokes both shoulders like I’m being hysterical or something. Fuck, maybe I am. I don’t even know.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Did you touch yourself at all?” he asks me as he slides his hand down my chest to my cock, and my entire body trembles when he wraps his hand around it.
“No, but I imagined it, which was almost worse.”
He hugs me; I lay my head on his shoulder as he observes, “Your entire body is vibrating right now.”
“I know.”
“I missed you, too,” he says and then he lifts my head which feels heavier than it ever has and kisses me, softly but intensely. It’s meant to comfort me. “Would you feel better if I let you come, Brian?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think you would.” His thumb skims the head of my cock, “You’re so wet.”
Justin blindfolds me and makes me jerk off for him while he gets undressed. He lays a soft towel on my leg when I’m close, and as I’m coming, I feel him standing in front of me. He lifts my chin, and put his dick in my mouth. He chokes me with it, and I struggle not to bite him as my release completes. I moan loudly as he leans over me, his hand rubbing my back. My eyes start to water as I gag.
Finally, he lets me go.
I cough several times as he slides the blindfold off and tells me to lie down. “Just relax, Brian.” So I do. He lies next to me as I recover by clearing my throat over and over. When I finally finish, he asks, “Did that loop stop?”
My eyes scan the room as I try to answer correctly, “Yes, it stopped.”
“Good, but now, you telling me about that loop is playing on a loop in my head.” We both laugh. Justin continues, “But I’ve thought about fucking you a lot today.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says as he slides on top of me. “I think about what it feels like on the first thrust, about how I can feel your entire body adjust and accept me. The way you hold your breath at first, the tension in your muscles, the expression on your face right before the ecstasy kicks in.”
“My loop is back,” I tease.
He grins, “And then I thought about how I want to fist you eventually--”
“I knew that was gonna come up,” I tell him.
“But I’m not in a rush. We’ll take our time.”
I have a beautiful memory about fisting Justin that is never far from my mind. We’re on vacation on the whitest sheets. He’s on his back with my hand completely inside him; his arms are tied over his head, and come is just pulsing out of his cock and pooling on his stomach. I remember that moment distinctly and then the hour afterward when he stayed tucked in my arms using our physical connection as life support.
The vulnerability exposed in that moment felt like a gift to me…
And that makes me remember…
“I bought something today,” I tell him this as he’s depositing kisses across my shoulder blades.
“What?”
“It’s in my briefcase. Go look.”
He gives me a funny look as he gets up and walks to the bed. He flips open my briefcase and pulls out the white mailing tube, “This?”
“Yep.”
“Dungeon blueprints?” he jokes.
“Nope. Open it.”
Justin pops the white plastic top off and pulls out the thick brown leather flogger slowly as it’s snug in the tube. When he sees the tiny spikes on the end of the leather strips, he presses them with his fingertips; his breath hitches and he snaps, “Ow. These are sharp.”
“Do you like it?”
“Where’d you get it?”
“That leather store on Liberty; it’s completely handmade.”
“It’s heavy. How much?”
“Three fifty.”
“The craftsmanship is astounding,” Justin says as his fingers explore it. “Did you test it before you bought it?”
“On my arm. It’s pretty fierce.”
Justin does the same and says, “Whoa.”
“I know, right?”
He sits back down beside and speaks in a patronizing tone, “You know you can’t just start with this, right? You have to build up to it.”
“Yes, Sir. I’m aware.”
“Ew, don’t call me, Sir. That feels all kinds of wrong,” Justin complains.
“I was doing it in jest. You call me Sir sometimes.”
“That’s completely different,” he says. “You were born a Sir.”
I suppose he’s right.
……..
It seems the evening has taken a bit of a weird turn which sort of makes me frustrated because I wanted this time to explore my headspace a little more, but now I’m uncomfortable with Justin’s headspace.
This is exhausting. And being exhausted in bed with Justin is usually a good thing, damn it.
I prop myself on my side and face him. He’s sitting cross legged in front of me with the new flogger draped across his legs. “You look a little lost, Justin.”
He looks down and toys with the flogger as he speaks, “I guess I kind of am.”
“Do you want me to come find you and bring you home?”
“No, that’s not fair to you,” he says with a shrug, and then he looks up at me earnestly, “This is like one of those Rubik’s cubes that frustrates the hell out of you, so you just want to cheat and move the stickers.”
“Were you playing with your Dad’s cube? That’s an old school hack, Sunshine.”
“Maybe I was,” he says, and he pokes me in the stomach with his foot. I catch it and yank him forward, “Put that flogger down and come here.” He sits it aside and lies next to me. I put my hand on his chest and he twines his fingers with mine as I talk, “All day long, you’re all I could think about. I wanted to come home and be at your mercy, even though I had no clue what that would mean. And I still want that.”
His blue eyes are wide open, “I should buy the sex toys for you; I should know what you want.”
“Please don’t be upset about that. Think of it as an offering, not an afront. I really like when you flog me. It feels like a reset, like you’re commanding my attention.”
“Okay, but we need to start slowly with the spikes. They’ll mark you if there’s any power behind them. Plus, it’s way heavier and longer than the one I practiced with.”
I reassure him, “Justin, I only went shopping because I couldn’t clear my head--”
“And that’s what you always do when you’re preoccupied,” he adds, “But it didn’t work,did it?”
”Of course not. Can I just lay it next to my head so I can smell it? The smell of new leather makes me hard.”
“Everything makes you hard, Brian.”
Justin gets up and turns off the overhead lights, and then returns to me, the black velvet bag in his hand. Before I can even say anything, he’s pulling out his expensive toy and asking me, “Do this for me, okay?”
“Sure.”
It’s a known known that I will take my time with this, that I will make sure he enjoys every second of it as he lies on top of me, hugging my shoulders, moaning into my neck. When it’s done, he thanks me and runs one fingertip down my cheekbone as he whisper, “When I fuck you--
“I know,” I say, “Push. You don’t have to tell me.”
He smiles at me, kisses me, and then blindfolds me again, positioning my arms so they’re over my head. He lays the new flogger across my neck; it’s heavy so it feels like a brace. I like the restriction. He lays the other flogger on my stomach and runs his hand over my chest. The routine begins: his touch alternating with the slap of the leather. I exhale, relax, and enjoy.
He rubs my stomach and then impact, my cock, another slap, my thighs, whoosh, slap, repeat…and then he moves back up my body, only now, he flogs first, then rubs. The heat from the fire, the darkness, the rhythm puts me in a trance…
I whisper his name, and he responds, “Hmm?”
“Don’t stop, okay?”
His hand brushes my forehead, “Do you want to roll over or stay like this?”
“Up and down five times, then roll over and repeat.”
He whispers, “Okay,” and kisses me. “I’ll start over so it’s not interrupted.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
……..
This sustained treatment Justin gives me allows me to untether myself from the wall of the pool we play in. That wall, that concrete border, is the dominance I rely on to get through the day, through life, through pain, and each strike of the flogger compromises my connection. What at first is a nuisance quickly morphs into an affirmation that I don’t need that wall to exist and it doesn’t need me. I can wander out into the middle of the pool and decide how deep I want to go or I can hang onto the rope between the shallow and the deep. I can just be.
I’m on my back, floating in our pool, when the new flogger is lifted off my neck. “Keep your legs bent and spread,” Justin says quietly like this is a covert operation. I feel the leather strips heavy on my balls and hold my breath as he carefully drags the length of the strands between my legs, over my cock and then my chest. He is careful, but the threat of pain is there.
When the ritual is over and he’s inside me, I’m underwater in the darker blue, in the deep, but I can breathe. I can exist to give him pleasure; I can feel every drop of me that he takes, and yet, it does not deplete me. He can fill me up and syphon off the rest for himself. I am changed yet still unaltered.
I am his.
…….
Justin naps next to me when it’s over, his back to the flames which by now I know are too hot. I move very carefully to reach the fireplace remote and turn it all the way down to burning embers. He wakes and rolls back on top of me, ordering me, “Don’t move.”
“I was saving your skin; look it that way,” I offer.
“Thank you for that fuck,” he says.
“You’re very welcome,” I respond, running my hands down his burning back, over his ass, my fingers circling the plug, “I pushed like you said.”
“That sent me over the edge; that was insanely amazing.”
“Well, it cost me a mint, so it better be that good.”
“Our sex toy budget is gonna be a line item on our taxes, Brian.”
“I tried that last year. Theodore said no.”
Justin laughs, “You should try this plug sometime, see what it feels like.”
“All you have to do is make me.”
Justin’s expression changes from a smile to a curious stare, his eyes narrow, “That is the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me, Brian.”
“Oh, I doubt that.”
“Don’t doubt it,” he scolds me.
And our journey continues....
Negotiations 28