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Review This Story || Author: H. Dean

The Object of His Affection

Part 4 Pavlov’s Dog

The Object of His affection – Pavlov’s Dog

The Object of His affection – Pavlov’s Dog

 

 

 

It was the eve of their anniversary. She had gotten "all gussied up" at his command and now awaited his arrival at her door. When, at last, he arrived, he was in suit and tie, bearing flowers and a large gift-wrapped box.

 

"Happy anniversary, pet", he said, smiling. "I have something special for you. I only hope you accept it."

 

She could not imagine what he might have that she would not accept. A quizzical look on her face, she leaned in to kiss him and retrieve her bouquet. Then, after placing the large bouquet in a vase on her coffee table, she sat on the couch beside him, reaching for the gift-wrapped box.

 

"Before you open your present, I want you to understand the significance of it”, he started. "If you accept the contents within, you will be expected to quit your apartment and move in with me. I want to have you day and night, for now and always."

 

Debbie burst into tears, falling into his arms in a strong embrace, covering his face with wet tears and emotion filled kisses.

 

"Of course, I'll move in", she nearly shouted.

 

After wiping her face she turned to the box and began unwrapping it. What she found were four black leather cuffs and a wide leather collar of the same color. There was also a pair of black stiletto heels with a locking ankle strap.

 

"If you accept these gifts there is significance behind them", he said, looking into her eyes. "It means that our relationship will intensify and that you can look forward to experiencing many of the things I have told you about over the years."

 

For a moment she didn't know quite what to say. She had longed for him to use his cuffs and collar. She had longed to be bound and used for his pleasure. However, even after being with him for the last year, she feared much of how she knew he would use her.

 

"Can I think about it...give you my answer later tonight?"

 

"Let's go", he said. " When we get back you I’ll expect that answer."

 

Debbie was quite relieved. This was not something she could rush into and, though she loved him and had enjoyed her submission to him, she was still fearful of it.

 

Dinner was a pleasant affair. They talked and laughed, remembering old times and not so old times. Often, he would mention a particularly memorable evening of recent past, bringing a blush to her skin.

 

“You recoil from certain of my comments,” he stated, stirring his drink. “But I know you like not being allowed to cum until I command it. I know you like when I embarrass you.”

 

“I do,” she acknowledge, still blushing. “I like everything, even what I don’t like. You…you make me want it. I don’t know how and it scares me. But I like it.”

 

By the time they returned to her apartment she was happy and excited, having already reached a decision regarding her gifts. As soon as they crossed the threshold and entered her living room she kissed him, embracing him tightly.

 

"Will you do something at my request, just this once?" she asked, smiling demurely.

 

"What is it?"

 

"Will you go to the bedroom, get undressed and wait for me?" she asked.

 

He starred at her for a brief moment longer, considering her request. "Sure. I'll be waiting in bed. Don't make me wait long."

 

Once he had slipped away, she removed her clothing and applied his gifts to her body. First, she slipped on his collar, enjoying the sudden claustrophobic tightness as she buckled it on. Then, after fastening the cuffs about her wrists she slipped her feet into the menacing looking shoes and buckled them on as well.

 

She discovered, as she looked through the box, that there was a small envelope. Curious, she opened it to discover that there were several small locks and a pair of keys. She tested them, discovering that, all the locks were identical and that one key was all that was necessary. In a moment, each of her adornments was locked on to her body, ensuring that only the bearer of the keys could release her from her trappings. Then, she headed to her bedroom and to the man who awaited her.

 

His weight pressed heavily on her doubled body. She had been bound with her arms stretched and spread over her head. Her ankles, much as she had imagined, had been bound to their corresponding wrist. He was pounding into her, whispering words of lust into her ears and heightening thrill of the moment.

 

He was generous that night, not torturing her by making her wait. When she asked permission to cum it was granted each time. Then, as was his practice, when he neared climax, he asked “Where would you like me to cum?”

 

Suddenly melancholy and knowing she was not yet worthy, she replied “On my face”.

 

Then, as if in a dream, he pulled out of her and straddled her bound body. She watched in disbelief as he stroked his cock, spewing his semen across her face. Her melancholy was replaced, in that instance, with pride and happiness.

 

Three more times he made love to her bound body. Three more times she was found worthy to wear his cum.  Finally, spent, he lay down beside her and slipped into the darkness of sleep.

 

As he drifted into dreams, she lay beside him, proud to be wearing his cum. Her apparent worthiness filled her with happiness and pride. It was then that she realized that her worthiness was determined, not by the quality of her blowjobs or her obedience but by her willingness to give herself over. It was that release and it’s accompanying trust that had made her worthy to wear his seed. Happy, and with a smile on her damp and sticky face, she joined James in sleep.

 

Morning came to soon. With it, she discovered the pain that comes with being bound doubled over for so long. Looking over to James she could see that he was still sleeping. She thought, for a fleeting moment, that she might wake him and ask to be let loose of her bonds. Then she thought of how he had made her feel the previous night and decided to endure the discomfort she was feeling. Besides, she did not want to disappoint him in any way.

 

Eventually, the call of nature woke James. After a quick trip to the bathroom he returned and released her fatigued and sore body from her bonds.

 

“Suck my cock,” he commanded, lying back on the bed.

 

Her initial reaction was one of irritation. She was quick to catch herself before her irritation was made public. After a quick stretch, she slid down between his legs and took his cock in her mouth. Fortunately for her cramping muscles, he was not long in reaching climax. After delivering a fresh coating of semen to her face, he commanded she ready breakfast while he showered.

 

Breakfast was nearly complete when he sauntered into the kitchen. She turned and smiled, dried cum flaking along the corners of her mouth and the dimples in her cheeks.

 

"Cum for me", he commanded.

 

A brief moment passed as his words sank into her head. Suddenly the wave hit her and she was forced to grip the counter top to keep from falling to the ground. Moments later, she regained her strength and stared at him wide eyed.

 

"Bacon’s burning." He was casual, as if her cumming with only his command were an every day occurrence.

 

Perplexed and slightly unbelieving in what had just happened, she returned to her cooking. She was in a daze during the rest of her cooking duty. She was still thinking of the strange occurrence when she finally placed their food on the table and took her seat opposite him.

 

"How did you do that?" she inquired. "How the fuck did you do that?"

 

"Pavlov's dogs,” he said, grinning. "I trained you. Now, you cum on command."

 

"No fucking way! That's not possible”, she exclaimed. I'm not like some dog that you can train to do tricks."

 

"Yes you are. I own you. Now, cum for me."

 

This time, there was no hesitation. Instead, the wave hit hard and quick. She stared at him from under troubled brows, excited, dismayed and frightened at this new development. When her orgasm finally subsided she opened her mouth, as if to speak. Nothing was emitted, however, and she stared, a dumb animal, unable to form words.

 

He smiled at her, noting the odd mix of emotions that were apparent on her semen coated face.

 

"Eat up", he said.

 

Finally, after several long moments of silence, her thoughts returned to her. Several times she made to speak. Her thoughts, returned though they were, were a jumble and she was unable to form a coherent structure to them. She felt that she should say something: perhaps an edict of irritation or pleasure. Little came to her, however.

 

"Oh my God. You...I...this can't be real!" she finally gasped. “You…I….can’t…what the hell?”

 

He merely chuckled, noting to her how pleased he was that she could be trained so well. He was quick to note, much to her chagrin, how “wonderful” she looked when cumming for him at his command. She was not so thrilled as he.

 

It was nearly a week before she fully accepted and began to enjoy his control over her orgasms. She had worried, initially, that anyone could make her cum. He assured her that it was not likely. Few people, he offered, would likely make such a command.

 

“Besides”, he offered, “It’s not just the command: it’s who commands.”

 

A month later she quit her apartment and moved in with him. On this day she was informed that she would be expected to change her house wear. Her collar, cuffs and stiletto heels were to be her standard mode of dress, unless otherwise ordered. When they were out, he allowed, she could wear whatever she wanted adding, “unless I have other ideas for your evening wear.” To her surprise, she found this edict quite arousing.

 

Weeks turned to months and then, before she knew it, another year was gone and they were fast approaching their second anniversary together. This anniversary, rather than present her with a gift, he requested one from her.

 

"It's a request and not a command,” he told her. "It requires your free consent and will not be considered disobedient should you choose against it.”

 

His request stunned her and she was glad he gave her time to mull it over. Even more relieving was that it was not a demand. With a bra size of thirty-four "DD" she was already a large breasted woman. Especially considering her breasts were housed on a five foot three inch frame. Having them enlarged, to whatever size he had planned, would make her look ridiculous.

 

Finally, on the day of their anniversary, she came to him and told him she could not grant his request and asked if she could give him anything else. With a smile, she was instructed not to worry on the matter.

 

His calm and happy willingness to forget his request only served to disappoint her. For, despite his reaction, she felt as if she had failed him.


Review This Story || Author: H. Dean
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