your benefit and protection. If you're lying to me and not doing what I ask, it's going to be a very painful and difficult wedding night for you which would be a fitting punishment for your deception. We're all very large—me especially—so you have to prepare yourself every night so you'll be able to take us.”
My breath hitches in my throat. It doesn't matter how many times he speaks to me in this way, it always has the same effect on my frazzled nerve endings.
Eight and a half inches. He could be lying, but somehow I don't think he is. Even so, the concerning part isn't the length, but the girth. And honestly I'm a bit scared to have his monster dick inside me.
He interrupts my near panic attack over the size of his cock with, “Now go get your gift.”
Every few days a gift is delivered to my house. It's always in a black box, wrapped with elegant embossed silver paper and a black satin bow.
I'm both excited and afraid of what may be inside the box because I know I'll have to obey him and use it while he listens and jerks off on the other side of the call.
“What are you wearing?” he asks.
“I... um...” He'll know if I lie. I can't do that thing women usually do where they pretend they're wearing something sexy when they aren't. It comes out in my voice. And I know he wants me wearing something sexy when he calls. “Jeans and a T-shirt.”
There's a long pause. “I think you want to be punished. Perhaps I should keep a list of your offenses against me so I can be sure all penalties get paid. Go to your bedroom and put on that see-through red thing.”
Soren has seen all the lingerie I own. Ninety percent of it he's purchased for me the past few weeks. Often it comes in the silver and black wrapped boxes along with various toys. Sometimes it comes separate. Sometimes he takes me into the store, and makes me try it on first.
But he's never seen me in any of it. He doesn't even ask for photos. He's said he wants to take it in all at once on our wedding night and honeymoon at the same time that Griffin and Dayne get to take it all in. What he really wants is my discomfort. Rather than slowly easing me in to intimacy and the vulnerability that comes with clothes coming off or lingerie going on, he wants it to all flood my system in one moment of pure adrenaline.
He feeds off this anxiety. He gets off on it so much that he's more than willing to wait just so he can keep me on this razor edge of fear and anticipation.
I take the red lingerie he requested out of the closet, remove my jeans, T-shirt, and undergarments, and put it on. I know I could work on being a better liar. I could rebel and put different lingerie on or just be naked, and he'd never know. But a part of me wants to obey these commands.
“Is it on?” he asks. I'm pretty sure he's begun to slowly stroke his cock by now. His tone and breathing have changed.
“Yes.”
I want to say Sir after that so badly. And I know with the way he orders me and the threats of punishment, and the many times he's explicitly described to me the way his cane will feel across my flesh as I've been made to finger myself to his filthy descriptions. This part started only a few weeks ago, the explicit overt hint of kink. I'm not innocent. I know there should be a title.
It feels wrong without one. But he hasn't requested one. And he makes me so ridiculously shy that I can't initiate it. And what if I did, and he didn't want it? What if he doesn't like it or doesn't get off on it? So every time I answer him, I bite back the increasingly strong urge to offer this verbal submission.
“Good,” he says. “You may buy yourself back into my good graces tonight after all. Open the gift.”
I take a deep breath and untie the bow. He's always patient as I carefully unwrap the box. I don't like to rip this beautiful paper. And I save it. I don't know why I'm saving it. It's so absurd. It's not like more isn't coming. It's not like I won't be able to afford wrapping