Saturday, April 19, 2014

A Woman in Control - My good organizer IV

My good organizer IV

Monday. No further comment or discussion on the Posey cuffs. But like a good boy, Jack calls and suggests a visit to the men’s room is required.

Special needs indeed.

“Wait twenty minutes,” I succinctly demand, then hang up.

I will not let him ‘back into’ a conversation concerning my gifts. Meanwhile, in obediently delaying nature’s call, he can give his situation some thought. A man like Jack will drool over the unknown elements the Posey cuffs present... the how... the where... the when... and particularly the how long. Such intrigues.

And I can accommodate. If he capitulates he will never know the how, the where, the when, and particularly the how long.

Good bondage, for a man of Jack’s ilk, must seem to be unending. And once I have him, it will be so.

Thirty minutes later, Jack slinks into the executive suite. I ignore him.

“I waited the twenty minutes... like you instructed.”

I merely nod.

“Thank you again for the gifts,” careful with his words in the cavernous reception area for the offices of all the company ‘big guns’.

I feign business, shuffling papers. Jack squirms. He wants to talk more. In maintaining silence I hint that action is preferred. Finally I sit back in my desk chair and authoritatively fold my arms.

“You enjoyed wearing them?”

“Yes... I... I...” he stammers looking about to see if there are listeners. “I wore them to bed.”

“And your PJs?”, sarcastical in using the term for toddlers.

“Gone. I tossed them.”

“So naked and in cuffs. Sleep well?”

“I rolled about a bit. But the cuffs... well you get used to them.”

I smirk, thinking to myself what little of that will occur when properly strapped in place. The initial tugging against tight bondage can be mentally exasperating... not to mention physically draining. But then, in time, the mind and body succumb... it’s delicious.

“Is that all, Jack?” my tone brusque.

“Ah... well... you said you had straps...”

“Straps and locks, Jack. You’ll not have one without the other.”

The moth comes closer and closer to the candle.

“Ah... can I borrow?”

“Hazardous, Jack. Self bondage can endanger.”

He searches. Finally I assist.

“I noticed you have a spare bedroom.”

Jack nods.

“Empty it. Buy extra thick curtains. If you do not have one, bring in a single mattress bed. Then you shall have the straps... and the locks... and proper supervision.”

Do I detect a bulge... a very faint bulge... in those trousers?

Yes, for Jack there is a natural trait, deeply imbedded within the mind, to surrender his will to perceived authority figures... female authority figures.

I lean and pretend to search through a drawer in my desk. Jack gets the wordless message and meekly saunters away. Enough said.

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