Another successful group, I thought, as it almost always is. I looked across the room at Sir Kevin. He was seated at the head of the Doms’ table, while I headed the table of submissives of course, for the monthly discussion group. Our eyes met and I smiled. My Master, my husband and my lover. paused a moment before responding to my smile. Then he nodded at me and smiled, just a touch of a smile, but it was enough. I took a deep breath, feeling his warmth and approval warm me.

The groups gathered every month, Doms, subs, and switches, to discuss different aspects of the lifestyle. BDSM that is, and specifically D/s. This afternoon’s topic had been a perennial favorite – What’s in a Name?

I shook my head, thinking about all the times I had led a group of submissives through the nuances of sub, slave, and bottom, helping them tease out the differences. I knew that Master Kevin had the same challenge with his group, as they explored the titles of Dom, Master and Top. Of course the subs were mostly polite and willing to listen and explore their differences. Often, the Doms were more likely to proclaim their opinions and expect others to agree, but they had enough respect for each other to temper that for the sake of the discussion.

Our dear friend, Deanna led the Switches group, those who were Doms or Tops sometimes and Subs or Bottoms at others. They always said, only half-kiddiing, that for switches, it didn’t matter what the question was, the answer was always, “It depends.”

As the event wrapped up, with laughter, hugs and promises to see each other again soon, I began to think about the evening at home with Master Kevin. Sundays were maintenance day and had a number of protocols we had developed over the years, but we called Saturday “Master’s delight.” Sometimes he directed me to plan an evening that would please him, other times he takes me in whatever way he wants. I had not gotten any instructions tonight, so I was open to anything.

I sighed thinking about the evenings I had dreamed of spankings and maybe some bondage, but ended up on a cushion on the floor while he watched some stupid football game on TV. NOT the kind of submission I enjoy. I hoped this would not be one of those nights.

But as the private room at the restaurant emptied out and Master Kevin turned to me, his smile was a bit predatory, and my heartbeat sped up. He moved close to me and I noticed that he has a small velvet bag in his hand. I knew what that was, and I bit my lower lip. Ok, here we go.

He handed me the bag, and moved close enough to talk softly. “Take that straight to the bathroom and insert the plug, please. When you come back, you will be on speech restriction until I tell you otherwise. Any questions?”

“No, Sir,” I said, a wave of anticipation rolling though me.

He smiled again, the predatory smile I love so much. “I expect you to be a good girl tonight,” he said. “Now go.” He put his hands on my shoulders as I turned away, bag in hand, moving toward the bathroom.

Locking myself in the stall, I opened the bag. A tube of lube and the medium plug. As I expected, though I had thought it might be the large plug. Carefuly, I lubed the plug, hoping to warm it up a bit. It was pretty, with a purple jewel on the end of it. Pulling down my thongs, I bent over to insert it.

It had been a while since he had taken my ass. I wasn’t exactly tight, but the plug often felt invasive at first. Once it slid into place, and I could feel it set, I breathed a sigh of relief. Allowing my self to accept the feeling of submission it carried. I put the lube away.

Looking in the mirror as I washed my hands, I pressed my lips together, reminding myself not to speak without permission. I moved back through the restaurant feeling acutely aware of the plug filling me, moving a bit more slowly, allowing my body to adjust.

Master Kevin was waiting for by the door and with a light touch guided me to the car. Silently, he opened the door for me and leaned in to fasten my seat belt. I knew this was not a gentlemanly gesture but a reminder that I belonged to him and was under his control.

As he drove, he played some classical music that he knew I didn’t particularly like, I smiled a little bit, knowing he took pleasure in knowing I wouldn’t say anything about it. Not that I would have complained anyhow! But I might have commented on it.

Traffic was still light as we made our way home, so it didn’t take long to get there. Of course, I waited in my seat for him to open my door and release me from my seatbelt. I had forgotten a couple of times in our earlier days and been swiftly punished well enough that I hadn’t made that mistake again.

He unlocked the door and led me into the house, stopping immediately in the foyer. Turning to me, he said, “We’re going to use the full protocol tonight. I’m expecting company. I’m going to unlock the dungeon now. Join me there when you’re ready.”

My heart rate had sped up again, I could feel it pounding in my chest, and I was short of breath. Who were we expecting? But I bit my lip hard, to stay silent.

Full protocol meant I stripped. I would not wear clothes, speak without permission, or really, I thought, do anything without permission until I was released. And I was expected to respond to instructions quickly.

I slipped out of my sweater, unhooked my bra, folding them neatly and setting them aside. My skirt also slid off easily and my thong followed. I had not worn stocking that day, and I thought that my sandals were not what he had in mind for me tonight, so I took them off as well. Folded them and put them on top of the small cabinet.

Still moving quickly, I opened a drawer in the cabinet and took out cuffs and collar. I didn’t put them on; I was not allowed to cuff myself and certainly not to put on my own collar unless directed to do so. I laid them out on the cabinet top net to my neatly folded clothes.

I had done this so many times, but each time was uniquely thrilling. Not knowing what to expect next, my body tingled with anticipation. A glance at the floor showed the small marks that my Master had made. Carefully, I place one foot over each mark – this was the width he expected my legs to be open. Then I brought my hands up behind my head, pulling my elbows back.

This position lifted my breasts and signaled my complete openness to him. Posed the way that I knew he wanted, eyes downcast, I waited for his return.