Page 28 of The Shame Game

“My girl is so pretty.” He smiled when her blush deepened, then slipped his hand lower to cup the curve of her belly.

She squirmed, uncomfortable. Her belly had gotten softer with age, too, and it sagged in this position. She started to turn, instinct pushing at her to get his hand away from that place she loved least of all. She jolted in shock when he slapped her breast.

“Stop moving,” he said, and moved his hand back to her belly. “I own you, Mandy girl,” he told her, his gaze holding hers firmly. He stroked his fingers over the soft flesh, his calloused fingertips scraping lightly over her skin. “You’re mine, every part of you, and I’ll touch you wherever I like. Isn’t that right?”

She nodded slightly, feeling the ears on the top of her head bob, and had to swallow hard against the lump in her throat.

“That’s right, good girl.” He shifted his hand to her hip and gave her a little pat. “Lie down, now. Put your head on my leg.”

She turned awkwardly, lowering herself onto her side then rolling half onto her back, twisting at the waist and tucking her legs up. She looked up at him to find him smiling, heat simmering in his gaze.

“You really are adorable,” he murmured, and stroked down her torso so his hand lay solid and heavy on her belly once again. “I’m going to rub your belly while I read, Mandy girl. Would you like that?”

Her face flooded with increased heat, but she nodded anyway. His hand felt wonderful on her skin, and the embarrassment was already fading. But he shook his head.

“If you want me to pet your belly, you have to tell me.”

She frowned, tilting her head. Tell him? She wasn’t allowed to talk.

His eyebrow quirked up, his lips curling into a smile. “You can bark, can’t you? Speak, Mandy girl.”

Oh my god.Her cheeks felt so hot they might as well be on fire, but his eyebrow only rose higher, intensifying hisI’m waitinglook. She had to swallow twice, but finally she managed to force a faint yip out of her throat.

“Good girl,” he praised, and gave her abdomen a long stroke with pride shining in his eyes. “That’s my good girl.”

Her breath shuddered out with a sigh when he turned his attention to the book in his lap and continued to stroke her. The embarrassment had faded, but the heat was growing.

James kept his touch firm, his strokes steady and even. He turned the page on his book with his free hand, though he hadn’t read a word. All his attention was on his wife. She’d been shivering when she’d first lain down, little jerks and trembles as she struggled to get comfortable. She’d finally stretched her legs out a bit, though he’d seen her wince, and he made a note to keep her off her knees for a while. She’d been having some stiffness in the joints recently, and that had been his biggest concern with this whole setup. Well, his biggest physical concern. There were a whole host of psychological concerns clamoring for his attention.

The anxiety that had washed over her when she’d first seen the equipment had mostly faded during lunch. The simple task of eating had calmed her down, allowed her to relax and settle. She’d tensed up again when she’d climbed onto the couch, but most of that had been uncertainty. Moving around on all fours wasn’t something she was used to. Even if she was in that position in bed—which she often was—it was usually stationary, and temporary. This was all day, moving through familiar spaces in an unfamiliar way, and her body was tense and awkward as she figured it out.

It was, in a word, adorable.

He frowned slightly and turned another page. Though the logistics of climbing onto the sofa and lying down in puppy mode had given her some anxiety, she hadn’t reacted badly until he’d begun to pet her. His stroke on her head hadn’t elicited any reaction but delight—she’d pushed her face into his hand readily, like a puppy wanting pets, her face settling into soft, contented lines. But when he’d slid his hand down to her breasts, she’d stiffened. And when he’d continued down her torso, something akin to alarm had sparked along with shame in her eyes.

He thought he knew what that was about, though he made a mental note to bring it up during their post-scene discussion. And he was kicking himself a little, because he hadn’t thought of this. Amanda was a curvy woman, and normally she was comfortable in her skin, so he tended to forget that even a woman as confident and secure as his wife was still vulnerable to the ridiculous standards society held women to when it came to their bodies.

It pissed him off, frankly, but he put the irritation aside. She was calm now under the firm strokes of his hand, and had even started to purr.Maybe we should’ve gone for kitty play, he thought with a spurt of amusement, and increased the pressure of his hand.

She wiggled, and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw her stretch slightly. She was definitely calming down, and nearly ready for the next step. Puppies liked to play, and he’d thought long and hard about how he’d like to play with his puppy.

There was the obvious choice, he thought, and shifted to ease the pinch of his jeans around his crotch. He’d been half hard since he’d slipped the ears over her head and petting her wasn’t helping his erection go away. He was a little stunned at how much he was looking forward to fucking her like this. Pet play had never been on the list of things he was curious about, but it was proving to be delightfully arousing. The power differential was so explicit that when he thought about it, it made perfect sense that he was so affected.

The D/s arrangement he had with Amanda was simple. In matters of sex, of play, he was in charge, and in everything else, they were equals. He loved that she was strong, and smart, and so eminently capable of handling almost anything that came her way. It was one of the things that had attracted him to her at the beginning. Confidence and strength were two of his major turn ons, and his wife had them in spades.

Which made it all the more delicious, and humbling, when that strong, confident woman handed all that power over to him.

Desire flooded through him, and he took a deep, steadying breath. He had a plan, and he needed to stick to it. This was an experiment and getting his dick wet wasn’t the point of it.

Well, it was sort of the point, he mentally amended, but it was going to have to wait.

So far, she didn’t seem to be having a great deal of trouble with being a puppy. She’d been embarrassed to crawl, but that had soon faded. She’d been embarrassed to have him touch her, but he thought that was more due to body anxiety than anything else. He thought of his plan for when she inevitably had to use the bathroom. He was certain the humiliation they were looking for would come up then, and he wondered how she’d react to it. He’d even considered creating a rule that would allow her to step out of the scene for those moments, but after talking it out with Jack, had decided not to. The entire point of the experiment was to see how she felt about those moments, to find out if they turned her on, and he was doing neither of them any favors if he allowed them to sidestep.

But he figured it was fifty-fifty odds that she’d safeword out of it.

Right now, though, she was calm and relaxed as he continued to stroke idly. He glanced discreetly at the clock over the mantel—they’d been sitting there for fifteen minutes or so, and Amanda was never patient when she was aroused. She’d been aroused downstairs, her clit swollen, her pupils dilated. That arousal might have faded since, and though he was tempted to slip his hand lower and check, he held off. If she was still worked up, it wouldn’t take long for her to begin getting impatient. If she wasn’t, he’d move on to the next part of the plan and get her worked up.

He grinned to himself and turned another page. Either way, it would be soon.Thank God.

---