Page 36 of Seth’s Doll

CHAPTER 20

Seven

I’ve never felt excitement like this, of being filthier than I’ve ever been with my innocent doll.

When I met her, I’d already done every kinky thing imaginable, so I never felt like I missed out on anything when I “settled down” and married her. I’d gotten it all out of my system by then, and it felt completely natural to tame my dominance back to a level suited for the only woman I’d ever fallen in love with. Absolutely no regrets. None. Not a single one.

But tonight feels like a whole new existence of its own. It feels like discovering this incredible alternative world all over again. Getting to show my wife a side of me and a higher tier of pleasure that I never even dreamed she’d be open to—it feels like I’ve gotten close to enlightenment. Like the whole fucking meaning of life has been whispered in my ear.

My arousal grows to a fever pitch, to a point that I don’t care about her birthday plans any longer. I need to be inside her. I need to consume her.

She’s giving me more than just her complete submission with no more limits of her own.

She’s giving me a part of myself back that I truly didn’t miss until the moment I got to experience a taste of it with her. Yet it feels like a whole new world, and I only want to share this one with her.

I reach behind me and grab the remote, clicking the green button. “Right now, I have no use for the orange button. You can show me what you had planned for the auto-fuck part of the scene some other time. Because at the moment, seeing how fucking blissed out you are after relinquishing all control to my will, all I want to do is see if I can continue to put that look on your face with my cock in Pleasure Sleeve 2.”

She smiles drunkenly, and I stand, pulling her with me, not stopping until I pick her up and she instinctively wraps her legs around my waist. I step over to the playtable once again, setting her naked ass on the very end, and the image of her earlier in the same spot—how beautiful she was, sprawled out and helpless, trusting me to only follow the instructions of the scene she laid out—fills my head.

But now, with the green button pushed, and a new song playing over the speakers, there are no rules. She’s giving me free rein to do whatever I want to her with the specific instruction to push her past all her limits.

Yet… with the way I feel right now, more aroused than I’ve ever been in my entire life, if I were to slip my cock into her sopping-wet heat, I would once again turn into that young man receiving his first lap dance. Only I’d be that same young man feeling the most exquisite pussy to ever exist, resulting in me filling her with my cum before I even got my tip fully inside.

Plus, I need to prepare her for the rough fucking she’ll soon be taking. A roughness I know for a fact that she’s never experienced before, because I’m the only man who’s ever had the pleasure of fucking her—gently or otherwise.

With my hand pressed to the center of her chest, I push her down until she’s lying flat on the padded table, her thigh-high-covered legs and naughty Mary Janes dangling off the end on either side of me. I step from between them, keeping my palm on her chest as I walk around the table to the opposite end, spotting my phone I’d left here earlier and moving it out of the way. Then, I take hold of her biceps in both my hands, and I pull, sliding her quickly up the playtable until her legs are stretched out and her feet rest atop the other end.

I take both her wrists and tug her arms straight above her head, commanding her to “stay” when I let go and walk over to the wall of leather cuffs and restraints. Choosing the ones I know fit her delicate wrists, I slide them off their hooks and take them back over to her. I make quick work of binding her arms together, then attaching them to the metal loop on the underside of the table with a leather strap.

“Color?” I ask when she doesn’t make a move to test her restraints, hoping she isn’t already frozen in fear.

“Green, Master,” she says dreamily, and I feel my lips pull into a secret smile. Never has my doll sounded so relaxed when she’s first been bound. She’s always, always been apprehensive and required time to settle into the position, ever since that one traumatic night from our past. But tonight has been special in a way we haven’t even begun to dissect yet, and I’m sure when we look back, it will be this birthday we attribute to a lot of healing and new beginnings.

I walk over to the wall once again and open a cabinet, finding a bottle of the lube I know works best for my sub’s body—water based and scentless, perfect for her sensitive skin and chemistry. Every Dom should remember details such as this; it’s part of the proper care and keeping of a submissive, to ensure they stay healthy and safe.

Sure, they can order their sub to keep such things supplied for their use. But what if their sub accidently grabs the wrong thing, or something gets swapped without their knowledge? It would be just as much the Dom’s fault for not knowing it was wrong, or knowing and not double checking it was correct.

Hence another reason why being a Dominant is a huge responsibility and nothing at all like what the fuckboys on dating sites think it is. It’s not all spankings and furry handcuffs while telling your one-night stand to call you Daddy. It’s a relationship based on more trust than even a solid marriage requires and not meant for anyone who won’t take it seriously and give it the respect it deserves.

There are deliciously selfish parts of a Dominant’s role, but above all else are the needs of his submissive.

I’ll soon be taking selfish pleasure from my doll’s perfect pussy, but before I do, her body needs to be readied, or I could hurt her and ruin the trust between us that allows me to do whatever the fuck I want to her.

With the rolling tray table nearby and me back at her side, I transfer my phone there for easy access and open the brand-new bottle, this particular lube that doubles as a massage oil, and pour the liquid into my hand, setting it within reach for whenever I need more. I rub my palms together to warm the lubricant, knowing she detests when anything chilly touches her skin while she’s naked. An example of something I can use as an actual punishment if need be.

My oiled hands go straight for her tits, and she sighs, melting into the padded table as I begin to massage the mounds that don’t quite fill my big hands but are worthy of worship all the same. I take my time, squeezing and rubbing each breast before focusing on the hard peak in the center of one, then the other. Feeling her boobs is stimulating enough as it is, but watching her face contort with pleasure and then her hips as they start to subtly grind would be too much for a lesser man to handle.

My hands move lower, smearing the oil beneath her tits to her ribs, and I massage there, back up over her breasts, then down again, being careful not to inch too far toward her sides, where I know she’s ticklish. Where some might find the feeling of being tickled fun and playful, my doll finds it irritating and torturous, and I avoid it as not to ruin her pleasure.

More punishment fodder for future use.

I squeeze more lube into my hand, warm it between my palms, and press them to her stomach, leaning over the table to slide them up her body evenly from this angle, then righting my arms so that I play her body as I would a piano. Up her left side and down the right, then back up the center between her breasts. And all the while, her hips work in an instinctive dance meant to coerce a mate into filling her up to bring her relief between those lovely thighs.

Thighs that give me a filthy idea for my first scene with no limits.

Quickly, I step over to the wall of various restraints and snatch off the wide Velcro cuffs adorned with silver D-rings, along with two adjustable straps with spring hooks on both ends. I’m by her side before the oil has even had a chance to cool on her skin, a prickle of sadistic pleasure running up my neck when I see her jump a little at the sudden sound of the Velcro pulling apart.

I loop it around the middle of her soft thigh, making sure it’s tight but not enough to cut off circulation, and then clip one end of the strap to the D-ring I’ve positioned to be on the outside of her leg. I move around the foot of the table, then do the exact same thing to her right leg, tossing the other end of the strap under the table toward the head of it.

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