Rich Promise by Ashe Barker

lubricated. Which I will be…
    “I want you to lube it up. When you’re ready, hand it to me and assume the position.” He seats himself on the sofa, clearly in no hurry.
    “What about…?” Always before, he’s prepared me carefully. Well, not last night, perhaps. Not specifically then. But I was obviously ready, very aroused. This seems cold, clinical almost.
    “What about what?” His eyebrows are lowered, he’s watching my hesitation and I suspect he’s not terribly impressed by it.
    “What about preparing me? You usually—help me to loosen up first.”
    “Not this time. That’s a smooth plug. If you lube it well and cooperate while I insert it, we’ll have no problems.”
    There’s a part of me, a small part admitted, that wonders if this is some sort of punishment. The consequences of defying him earlier when he asked about my visit home. I dismiss that. Dan doesn’t play games. If he intended to discipline me, he’d be up front about it. He’d make sure I knew what was happening and why. And if he says this can be done the way he describes, then it can. I reach for the bottle and take the plug from his outstretched hand.
    A couple of minutes later I pass the oiled butt plug back to Dan. I could have completed my preparations more quickly but there was no point. As soon as I started the process, he stood and left the room. He was gone a short while, returning with a pair of handcuffs, and a black ball gag. He dropped those on the rug beside me and resumed his seat on the sofa.
    The handcuffs don’t bother me. He’s never used them before, but he’s used leather straps, ropes, his tie. I’m comfortable with whatever he chooses. The ball gag looks intimidating. I’m sure I’ll look grotesque wearing it but I daresay that’s part of the point. I’m to be humiliated, subjugated to his will. Despite my apprehension, a familiar tingle of delighted anticipation slithers through my lower abdomen, settling in my pussy. I’m dampening, I know it.
    Dan picks up the handcuffs first. “Behind your back, I think. Could you turn around please, Summer?”
    “Yes, Sir.” I turn my back, and place my hands behind me. He slips the cuffs on, and locks them with a decisive clunk.
    “I hope you have the key handy, Sir.” I try to inject a note of levity into my voice, but I suspect the tremor is still noticeable.
    “I’m sure you do. The gag now. Any last words?”
    “No, Sir.”
    “Good.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a scarf. It’s pale blue, with lilac stripes marbled through it. Very attractive, actually. He bundles it up in his fist. “I’m going to place this in your hand. Keep your fingers clenched around it. If you need to safe word, drop the scarf.”
    “I see. Thank you, Sir.” It occurs to me I never even thought to ask him about how I would safe word if I needed to.
    He places the scarf in my fist then picks up the ball gag.
    “I thought of something, Sir. A question.”
    “Go ahead.”
    “Is the oil the same as before?”
    “The same? You mean the same strength?
    I nod.
    “It is. You seemed to cope with it okay. You could probably tolerate it a little stronger, in fact, but I prefer to take it slowly. I wouldn’t want to put you off.”
    My smile is one of relief and gratitude. “Thank you. I appreciate that, Sir.”
    “You’re welcome. Anything else?”
    “No, Sir.”
    “Open your mouth then.”
    I do, and he swiftly pops the ball between my lips then fastens the gag at the back of my head. It feels horrible, worse than the knotted scarf did a couple of days ago. But I managed that. I can accept this too. I swallow, concentrate on breathing evenly through my nose. Dan watches my efforts calmly, waiting for me to be steady enough to continue. His eyebrow is raised, his head cocked to one side. After a few seconds, I nod my acceptance, the signal I’m okay.
    Dan flicks his finger to indicate I’m to turn around and lean forward. I obey, lifting my bottom up for