Page 104 of Dr. Fellow

Morgan tries to turn her head to see what I’m holding, but her shoulders are flush with the back of the chair, arms straight and bound to the legs with a simple column tie. Her hips are pulled to the edge of the seat, ankles secured to her wrists—it’s the perfect position for a good spanking.

I trace my fingers up her arm, watching the way her chest rises and falls beneath my touch. She’s so damn responsive to me, it’s incredible. I could play with her for hours, studying the way her body adjusts to each tease and toy.

“Want to know what it is?” I bend down, dusting my lips against her neck to taste her.

She swallows, arching her head into me. “Yes, Sir.”

God—the formal responses never get old.

I cherish making slow, sweet love to my wife like newlyweds. I crave our rough, primal fucks like two lovers who have finally given in to each other. But this, right here, is something I fucking worship.

“Remember how you forgot to wear your wedding ring to work a few times this month?”

If we weren’t in a scene, I know my wife would immediately bite back with a sassy response because that’s just her nature. And while I love that side of her, I also love this side of her too—the one that makes the willing choice to submit.

“Yes. I remember, Sir.”

I grin, crouching down to her eye level so that she can watch me open the custom necklace from the black velvet box.

“You won’t have to worry about that anymore because I’ll have the key.”

Her green eyes go wide with understanding as they take in the gold choker. She dips her head in acknowledgment, and for some reason, I feel my heart swell with pride.

I pull her hair to the side, threading the metal around her neck before I clasp it in the back. The jewelry maker specializes in kink, and while these types of discrete collars are usually simple chains, I had them add a small circle the size of her wedding band to the center.

I actually didn’t know much about the whole collar thing until I started diving into my kink research. It didn’t seem like my thing so I didn’t think twice about it, but when we started playing around with our dynamic a little more, I reached out to a guy I knew in med school hoping to get some advice.

Worth and I were about as friendly as I was with anyone back then, and he was always pretty vocal about his involvement in a local club, so I figured he might still be into it. And even though he practices in Houston now, he was more than willing to chat.

It turns out that while there are universally accepted guidelines related to safety, there’s more diversity in kink than I originally thought. Hearing him explain the significance of a collar in a dominant and submissive relationship helped reframe my perspective. Yes, it’s a symbol of submission and ownership, but to many people within the community, it holds the same value as a wedding band.

And just like with every scene, we’ll talk about this later. If she hates it, we can figure something else out. Because although nothing about our relationship has been traditional, the commitment between us has been and always will be there.

Morgan swallows as I secure the choker with a tiny hex-screw key. “Thank you for the collar, Sir.”

I sweep her hair back in place. “You’re welcome. I was going to spank your ass for being so bratty earlier but I’m suddenly feeling generous. Does my wife want to come?”

“Yes, Sir.”

She bites her lip hesitantly as I’m about to stand, and I furrow my brow because I notice a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. When we’re in a scene, we negotiated that she would only respond to questions directly, but I can tell that she’s dying to say something.

“Where are you, little devil? Do you want to keep going?”

“Green, Sir.”

My brows knit. “Then what is it?”

Morgan smirks at me. Her voice is like hot honey, sweet at first but filled with a kick. “I got you something too, Sir.”

My lips twitch with amusement. “You did, did you?”

She nods like she’s proud of herself. “I put a plug in for you, Sir.”

I cock my head—it takes a lot to surprise me, but my wife continually does it time and time again. The last thing I would have expected was for her to try this on her own.

I stand and circle her without saying anything, needing to see it for myself. I bought her an anal training kit as something to work up to once she got comfortable with my fingers, but we haven’t tried it yet. Sure, we also used the hook once, but it’s still much thinner than those plugs.

Without much pretense, I sink to my knees behind her and unsnap the delicate fabric between her legs that was concealing the toy. My fingers glide through her soaking pussy to her back entrance, finding the plug that she promised.

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