Christmas Pet by Jamie Knight

Chapter Nine - Pearl

Who was I kidding? I already knew I would agree to be his plus one and his pet, but I didn’t want to seem too eager.

My heart raced like I’d hiked the Appalachian Trail in my bare feet. To stop stripping naked and begging him to begin my training this second, I made a cup of instant coffee and microwaved frozen pancakes, doing my best to appear calm and in control when I was anything but.

To give myself room to think, because being close to him left my brain mushy, I pulled on my Uggs and trudged outside to the deck to get some fresh air and take in the view. As always, the landscape took my breath away.

The lake had frozen over, and early morning skaters were already zipping around.

I took a sip of coffee and leaned against the railing. Already this weekend, I’d learned lots about myself. I didn’t think I was into pain, like at all, but when he’d smacked my ass, it more than turned me on.

If I was alone, I would’ve happy danced. The thought of being someone’s submissive sent shivers up my spine. What kind of Christmas parties would we go to? He said they wouldn’t all be sex parties, but those were the ones that excited me the most.

I still couldn’t believe I’d shared my fantasy about being bound and helpless. It was my go-to fantasy when I needed to get off in a hurry. I wasn’t expecting it to ever come true.

Sighing, I took another sip of coffee. Everything in my life was going in the right direction, and I felt good about myself.

“It’s beautiful here,” he said from behind me.

“It’s more than beautiful,” I replied. “It’s spectacular. A slice of heaven on earth. I miss coming here and escaping the real world.”

“I can see why.”

I cleared my throat. There was something I’d wanted to ask him. Something I wasn’t clear about. “I don’t have to call you sir all the time, do I?”

He chuckled. “Pearl, when we’re not in the middle of a scene or when we’re not at a private party or at a club, you can call me James, and I’ll call you Pearl. To be safe, at work, call me Mr. Matthews, and I’ll call you Ms. Holmes. Other than that, address me as sir, and I’ll address you as pet. I’ll also sometimes use the word pet affectionately.”

“Got it.”

“I’m not in the lifestyle twenty-four-seven. Besides, expecting someone as independent as you to become a full-time submissive is asking too much—for now. I don’t think I would like that. I enjoy sparring with you.”

He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my frozen ears. It was the type of gesture that people in a relationship did. Something intimate and loving.

I nervously flicked the tip of my tongue over my lips to wet them. I ached for him to kiss me again. To take control like he did last night.

“So, about today. You want to ice skate or something?”

“How about or something?” His wicked grin curled my toes. “I don’t want to ice skate. I don’t want to snowshoe. I don’t want to hike. What I do want to do is go inside and watch your mother’s collection of Tom Cruise movies.”

I laughed so hard my coffee spilled over the rim of my mug. “Seriously?”

“Not in the slightest.” He moved closer and curled his hands over my shoulders. The heat from his palms seeped through the layers of my clothes and into my skin. His grip was tight but not ruthless. He traced his fingertips along the hollow beneath my ears, taking my breath away and accelerating my heart rate.

“When, ah, when do we have to start going to parties?”

“This Wednesday. I have a party in, believe it or not, Pennsylvania.”

“What’s the dress code?”

“Black tie.”

“Oh,” I said, unable to hide my disappointment.

“The following Saturday, we’re going to a different kind of party. Think corsets, thigh-high boots, crotchless panties, and latex.”

My eyes widened. “I don’t think my wardrobe holds anything that, um, classy.”

He rested his fingertips against my pulse points. “I can take care of that. There’s a place I know that specializes in kinky underwear.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

He leaned down, his warm breath brushing against my cheek. “Baby, it’s cold outside.”

“Did you quote a song lyric to me?”

“And what if I did?” He took my hand and led me towards the trailer. “Let’s go inside. We need to go over a few things.”

“What sort of things?”

“Things we should’ve talked about last night.”

Once inside, I boiled the kettle to make more disgusting coffee. After I’d poured us both a cup, we sat at the kitchen table.

“Do you have any medical problems I should know about? What about diseases? Are you possibly pregnant? On the pill?”

My jaw dropped open. “Talk about going in for the kill. No, no, no, and yes.” I pushed up from the table. “The emergency I talked about saving the whiskey for is here.” I went into the bedroom and rummaged around the back of the wardrobe and found an almost full bottle of Tennessee whiskey. Holding it like a trophy, I went back into the kitchen. “Ta-da. Would you like a splash?”

James pushed his cup forward. “It might help this muck taste better.”

I poured generous helpings into both our coffees. After I took a fortifying sip, I nodded. “What else?”

“Do you have any phobias? Like claustrophobia anything like that?”

“Needles. Don’t come near me with anything pointy. I think it’s called trypanophobia. I either faint, vomit, or meltdown. I’ve been known to curl into the fetal position.”

“Noted. Have you ever been tied up before? Or restrained by anyone?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“Anything else I need to know?”

“I don’t think I’d like getting flogged or whipped. Ouch.”

“You liked me spanking you last night.”

I gazed at everything else in the trailer but at him. “More than I expected.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“What has me ever being in love got to do with the next few weeks?”

“Let me rephrase that. When was the last time you made love with someone?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “I plead the fifth. Let’s say that there are cobwebs down there.”

He laughed, the sound throaty and sensuous. “Not from what I witnessed last night. Do you have any triggers you’re aware of?”

I shook my head. I didn’t want to answer any more questions. It was his turn. “When was the last time you made love?”

He shrugged. “I’ve never made love. The last time I had sex was a few weeks ago.”

For a brief moment, jealousy ate me up. “With who?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Kinda does, but I can tell you’re not going to answer me.”

“Would you like me to talk to anyone about what goes on with us?”

“I guess not. Why do you want to know all this anyway?” I asked, not hiding my impatience.

“So I have an idea about your history and what to avoid.”

“Makes sense. But you’ll stop when I ask you to, right?”

“All you have to do is say the word.”

A delicious tremor ran from my head to my toes. “What do I say if I want to start playing? Something like, can we play?”

“Exactly what you said.” His voice had dropped several octaves.

I giggled and batted my eyelashes. “Can we play?”

“We can play.” He stood and crossed his arms. “Take your clothes off, pet. It’s time I got to know all of you, intimately.”

Like an obedient little sub, even though I still didn’t think I was one, I pulled off all my clothes without hesitation. Despite the trailer thermostat being set for seventy-one degrees, my nipples puckered as if I was standing knee-deep in the snow.

“Are you ready for what the day will bring?”

“More than ready, sir,”

He ran his fingers down the front of my body and eased his hand between my thighs. His fingers felt huge, and my pussy pulsed with the need for him to fill me up. Liquid heat flooded from me, leaving me soaked and primed. “So wet, pet.”

He dragged me closer and touched his lips to mine. I loved the sensation of his bristly stubble against my skin. It felt rough and sexy.

He traced the tip of his tongue around the outline of my lips. Teasing me. Torturing me. When I thought I would die from wanting, he sucked my lower lip between his, then kissed me like he needed my breath to live.

He broke away and dragged his lips down the center of my body, between my breasts, and down past my belly button. I shivered and trembled, and goosebumps cascaded over my skin.

When he reached my mound, he worked his way back up my body. Once he reached my lips, he pressed his mouth against mine again and slid and dipped his tongue into my mouth, mimicking what he would do with his cock.

“If only I’d known about you sooner, pet.” He took one of my breasts in his hand and tweaked my hard nipple. I inhaled sharply and deeply, and afraid I would fall, I reached out and dug my fingertips into his shoulders.

He broke away, his eyes filled with warning. “I didn’t say you could touch me. Hands by your side now. I’m not finished exploring you. I intend to fondle and tease you for as long as I want. For touching me without consent, you’re not to move, make a sound, or react in any way. Do you understand, pet?”

I opened my mouth to reply, but he pressed a fingertip against my lips. “A simple nod or shake of your head will do.”

I firmed my lips and nodded. Once again, he brought his attention to my breasts and nipples. Using his palm, he grazed my nipples back and forth. I’d never been as aroused in my life, and he’d barely even touched me.

When he’d finished teasing and stroking, he closed his fingers around them and rolled them before pinching them and dragging them outwards. Dizzying excitement rushed through every cell in my body and my pussy throbbed in time with my pulse. I desperately wanted to moan and push deeper into his touch, but I stayed still.

For an undeterminable amount of time, he continued to play with my breasts and nipples. How had I never realized breast play could be as erotic?

My nipples were now so sensitized that they almost hurt every time he touched them, but it was a sweet, tingly kind of hurt that turned me on even more.

Just when I thought—hoped—he’d move lower, he took one nipple and then the other into his mouth, sucking deeply, swirling his tongue this way and that.

I reached out for him, and I couldn’t stop the moan falling from my lips. The sound was deep and husky, and I’d never moaned like it in my life. James stood back, amusement crinkling his eyes. “I told you not to make a sound or move, pet.”

“I couldn’t help it.”

“I’m going to have to gag you. Do I have to restrain you too?”

I didn’t know if I wanted to nod or shake my head. I wanted both but also didn’t.

“What’s it to be?” he asked, tweaking my nipples.

“Both,” I whispered.

“Good idea. Stay there.” He rummaged around the kitchen drawers and found a kitchen towel, and from beneath the sink, he found some zip ties. My heartbeat tripled and then quadrupled.

“Sit.”

I did as commanded. He placed my arms behind the back of the chair and zip-tied them together, then he zip-tied my ankles to the chair legs, and finally, he tied the kitchen towel around my mouth. I tried to move, but there was no give. Being bound and helpless amplified my arousal. My nakedness and being tied up by my boss should have embarrassed me, but it didn’t. Instead, my excitement shot through the roof because of what was happening between us and because part of my fantasy was coming true.

He tapped his fingertips against each zip tie, admiring his work and making every muscle in my body clench. “You’re so fucking sexy. He placed a kiss on top of my head. Your heart is pounding, pet. Take a deep breath through your nose.”

After a few deep breaths, my heartbeat slowed.

“Now, where was I?” He ran his hands from my collarbone down to my breasts and continued to torture my nipples as before. He sucked them into his mouth, nibbling and teasing. All my nerves zinged, and vibration after vibration rippled through my inner walls.

He stood back, desire dancing in his eyes. “Since you won’t be able to use your safe word, you can tap your fingernails against the back of the chair if you need me to stop. Nod if you understand.”

I nodded. My entire body ached, but it was nothing on the ache in my pussy.

He brushed his fingertips between my breasts, down my stomach, and trailed them through my curls. But he didn’t immediately touch my pussy. Instead, he trailed his fingers along the sensitive insides of my thighs. I was sopping wet and would leave a mark on the chair.

“I want to see your pussy spasm, pet. I want to see you gush all over my hand.” And then he touched me.

I closed my eyes and prayed for sanity.

He pressed his fingertips against my pussy and rubbed through my folds while his other hand continued groping and massaging my breast. With feather-light strokes, he circled his finger around my clit, flicking back and forth, clockwise and counterclockwise. I needed a stronger touch. A firmer hand. But he kept his caresses light and gentle. Going to my opening but never pushing his finger in.

My breathing became labored, and my breasts and pussy swelled. My clit was so engorged it was almost painful. Then finally, finally, he touched the tip of my clit. A wave of shuddering shocks washed over me. I was going to lose it.

He got down on his knees and pressed the flat of his tongue to my bud. Over and over again, he licked, one side and then the other. My muscles clenched. The beginnings of my orgasm unfurling in my belly. I desperately needed the release his tongue promised.

He moved his mouth lower, his tongue lapping at my opening. I held my breath, waiting, wanting.

Anticipation sent me higher and higher and higher. His mouth found my clit again. My back arched as much as it could. Repeatedly he flicked his tongue back and forth. I wrenched against my restraints. I wanted to be free so I could grab him and hold him.

James slid two fingers inside me. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. Slowly at first, pumping them in and out before increasing the pressure and the speed. He sucked my clit, and his fingers went deeper.

My vagina walls tightened, never wanting to let him go. I needed to come. I needed to scream and cry.

He tapped the tip of his tongue against my engorged bud, which felt ten times its normal size. I moaned and sobbed against my gag. I wanted to squeeze my thighs together. I wanted to trap his head between my legs.

He didn’t stop sucking or pumping. He thrust his fingers deep, and I shook and shuddered, squirming and writhing as my orgasm broke through. Liquid heat ran from me, and James lapped every drop up. He didn’t stop pleasuring me until the last undulation.

I slumped forward.

I was more than ready to give myself to him. To have him fuck me—claim me.

Desire hooded his brown eyes. I would beg him to take me any way he pleased, but when he pulled off the gag, I sucked in a breath, and “Oh my God,” was all I managed to blurt out.

“You’re going to be the death of me, pet.” He yanked off his sweatshirt and T-shirt.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

I lowered my eyes to the bulge in his pants before moving up to his lips. I yearned to taste him. To take him in my mouth.

“I’m fucking rock hard.”

I licked my lips, my mouth and throat bone dry, and shivers of desire flashed through my body. Risking his wrath and a punishment, I asked, “Can I taste you, sir?”

“You can taste me and more.” James pushed down his trousers and boxers, stepped out of them, and kicked them away. Droplets of pre-come seeped from his cock.

Dying to taste him, I leaned forward as far as my restraints allowed. He reached for my hair and curled his fingers around, giving a sharp tug.

“You’re going to take every inch of my cock in your mouth, pet. You’re going to drink down every last drop of my come, understand?”

When I didn’t immediately respond, he gave another tug. “Understand?”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

He placed his palm on the back of my head and positioned himself so his legs were on either side of the chair. The look on his face was one of pure, unadulterated want.

He inched forward, and I curled my tongue around the head of his cock and picked up a droplet. I would swallow everything he gave and would relish the taste. I glanced up at his face. His hips thrust forward, and a wicked smile curled the corners of his lips.

“I like your enthusiasm, pet.”

You’ve seen nothing yet.

He yanked my head back. “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met in my life. Never forget that.” Not giving me a chance to reply, he tapped his flared head against my lips, smearing himself around.

“Open your mouth, pet.” I opened wide, and he slid deep, stretching my lips. He held the sides of my head firm, not allowing me to shy away. I tilted my head back to accommodate more of his width and length.

“Relax your throat muscles,” he said, his voice strained. “Breathe through your nose. When I go deep, hold your breath. When I withdraw, inhale.”

He slid out and eased in again until he was balls deep. I clenched my thighs together, desperate for another orgasm, but I didn’t know if I’d get that lucky.

James’ breathing picked up speed, he tugged my hair, his hips moved faster, and his cock grew harder. I hadn’t touched him with anything other than my mouth, and yet I was driving him wild. The power I had over him was a powerful aphrodisiac.

His grip on my hair grew tighter, his movements more demanding. I glanced up. His pupils had dilated. His eyelids were hooded and heavy.

He threw his head back. The veins and muscles in his neck strained. He held onto my hair with a punishing grip. His back bowed, and the sound that came from him shook the trailer. Spurts of hot come exploded from his cock, and I gulped every drop down. After I sucked him dry, he fell to his knees and slammed his fingers into me.

I didn’t know if a month would be enough with him.

I didn’t even know if forever would.