Page 341 of Ashes of Sin and Stardust

Chapter 71

It was a really, really,reallylong day.

It wasn’t the waiting around, or the conference calls, or the walking, or the driving. It wasn’t the boring phone calls. It was the plug in my ass that forced me to experience every minute of the day. Were minutes supposed to be this long?

I was blown away by the sheer stupidity of most of the shit he had to sit through. Calls about absolutely nothing, or meetings that could have been an email. Honestly, it was a miracle he ever came home in a good mood.

Everything was exacerbated by the plug in my ass. After an hour, it was comfortable. After two, I barely noticed it. But after four, then five, then six... things got dicey.

It wasn’t that it hurt, per se. It just felt like I had to take a massive dump, and it was awkward to walk in. Sitting down was not fun. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to grind on it or push the thing out.

He studied my discomfort, watching me with a side-eye that implied I was getting what I deserved. And I refused to complain, because he was right, and I felt almost relieved to suffer for him. Like this was my penance.

Even though it sucked, part of me relished it. I felt so owned by him, so objectified. The discomfort mixed with the arousal and made my head all fuzzy. I wanted to be mad about it, but I was too thrilled. It didn’t help that he looked so hot in his dress clothes, and he kept looking at me over the rim of his new computer glasses. He looked so serious and intimidating with them on.

We finally left the hotel at half-past six. We’d been busy all day and I hadn’t really had a chance to work on my letter other than in my head, and I was hoping he would unbind my hands so I could work on it. We got home, and I kept waiting for him to send me downstairs to remove the belt and the plug, but instead, he washed his hands, rolled up his sleeves, and opened the refrigerator.

Time to cook dinner. That meant I would be helping him cook, and I wouldn’t have time to work on my letter yet. But withdrawing the chicken breasts, he smelled them, and cursed. “No Chicken Marsala tonight.”

“Is it bad,” I asked softly.

“Yes. Smell.” I leaned forward and smelled. It smelled a little sour, and I winced. “I guess... I’ll go out to the store?” I asked, almost in hopes that he’d let me do something for him.

“No,” he shook his head and shut the fridge. “Let’s go to The Lounge. Take a night off. We’ll do Marsala tomorrow.”

That meant the plug was staying in. Fuck.

I let out a little whimper, but put my shoes back on, and followed behind him.

After the drive toThe Lounge, which involved a gravel parking lot and more potholes than I remember, I was uncomfortable, wet, a little sweaty, and horny as hell. And there was no way in hell he was going to let me have an orgasm tonight. I probably wouldn’t even get the spanking he’d promised me yesterday.

He helped me out of the car, clipped my hands together in front of me, and threaded his belt through the carabiner, pulling me behind him. It was embarrassing to be led through the restaurant and up the stairs like a dog on a leash, but I swallowed my arguments and took it, because I knew I deserved it after what I’d done. And I’d do almost anything that his point.

It wasn’t that he didn’t forgive me... it was that I knew I didn’t forgive myself. I felt like I earned this, and I needed to suffer for it.

Upstairs, people congregated in groups. There were some who sat around the stage and watched whoever decided to get on the poles that night; there were some who pulled chairs together in front of a table to share fries and chat; there was a group of nerds who always played tabletop games in the far corner, fully dressed out in their costumes for their current campaign.

Today, Reuben led me to a cluster of leather chairs and couches all circling a short coffee table. Some of his friends, including Simon, Paul, and Jackson were sitting there, talking quietly. He sat himself down on one of the armchairs and unbuckled my wrists.

“Go place our orders at the bar, and then bring the food over when it’s ready. You may order yourself water, or iced tea to drink.” I nodded and did as I was told. I knew what he wanted; he always got a French dip sandwich with mushrooms, and a double shot of Woodford Rye, neat.

Uncomfortable and trying not to shift and squirm too much, I placed our orders and waited for the food, barely able to think or take in my surroundings from what had becomeactualpain in my ass.

When I returned to Reuben with our drinks, I noticed his friends were staring at me. Particularly Simon, who was watching with mouth slightly downturned and his head cocked.

I set Reuben’s drink in front of him, and then sat down on my knees, shifting my hips to the side. It was the only comfortable way to sit with the fucking plug.

“Thank you, little bug.”

“You’re welcome Sir.”

“You broke her,” Simon said softly.

“Not at all...” Reuben’s hand fell to my head, stroking my hair, and I melted into the affection. It was the best thing I’d felt all day, and the tightness in my chest evaporated. “I just softened her up a little. Besides...” he stroked my face, and then tilted my chin up to make me look at him. He had a smirk on his face. “We had to start training that asshole eventually. Today was as good as any. Right, phoenix?”

---