Attached to one wall was his collection of canes, and I ran a finger across one. I’d talked to Christine about them a few times since our visit, but I still wasn’t ready to try them.

I tried to imagine Nathaniel’s expression if I told him I wanted him to use a cane on me.

Would he be shocked? Would he agree?

But again, I didn’t feel ready yet, so I kept walking.

I rifled through a collection of masks and gags. We’d never played with any of them. I still wondered what it would be like to be gagged.

I picked up a ball gag and tried to imagine him using it combined with a new flogger. That could be fun. His note, though, said to pick one. One. How was that even possible?

Taking my journal and pen, I sat in the middle of the playroom and thought. I ran through different scenarios in my head using several of the items I found in drawers and cabinets. They all seemed fun, but I couldn’t decide on one thing.

I tapped my pen against the spine of the journal and glanced down at my watch. Nine thirteen.

I gazed around the room one last time, smiled, and bent my head to write. I wrote about the toy I picked and, just for fun, added a few details about the scene.

Felicia and I were almost to our first stop, a lingerie store, when my phone rang.

Nathaniel!

“Hello,” I said.

His voice sounded tired. “Abby.”

My heart warmed just hearing his voice. “How was the flight?”

“Long,” he said. “We just landed.”

My mind tried to calculate the time difference. “What time is it?”

“A little after eleven at night,” he said. “It’s like I skipped an entire day.”

“That’s okay,” I teased. I imagined him running his fingers through his hair the way he did when he was tired or frustrated. “Saturday’s a drag. You didn’t miss much.”

“I take issue with that,” Felicia said from the driver’s seat. “You’re shopping with me, and our first stop is a lingerie store. Saturday is not a drag.”

He gave a soft laugh. “I’ll be talking with you in a few hours. I just wanted to hear your voice and let you know I’d landed safely.”

“What are you going to do now?” I asked, not ready to hang up.

“Check into the hotel and get a few hours’ sleep before I start working again.”

“On Sunday?”

“I don’t have anything else to do,” he said in a teasing tone. “Someone refused to come with me.”

“You know why,” I said softly.

“I know and I understand.”

“You should go out and explore,” I said. “It’s not like you’re in China every day.”

“Thank goodness. I’ll explore some. Though I doubt the Great Wall has changed much since the last time I saw it.”

“You’re going to see the Great Wall?”

“No,” he said. “It’s too far away. Next time I’m here, maybe you’ll be able to come and we can go together.”

“I miss you already.”

“I miss you, too.”

“We’re here,” Felicia said.

I’d been so engaged in talking with Nathaniel I hadn’t even noticed Felicia parking the car.

“I’ll let you go,” he said. “You two have fun. Don’t get into too much trouble.”

“Mmm,” I teased. “Trouble sounds good.”

“Later,” he said with a hint of smile in his voice, but then he grew quieter. “I love you.”

“Love you.”

I returned home hours later with bags of new clothes and lingerie, several different garters, and a light heart after having plenty of girl talk with my best friend. Married life agreed with Felicia, and I’d never seen her more content and happy.

I hummed as I put away my purchases. Maybe later in the week I’d put on some new lingerie and take a picture to send to Nathaniel.

At three thirty, I opened the next envelope.

I hope you enjoyed your time with Felicia. You and my new cousin-in-law are so very different, and yet I know your friendship means a lot to you both. I never want you to feel as though you have given anything up by your choice to wear my collar.

Having said that, I know we’ve discussed before how being a submissive does not make you weak, naive, or gullible. In fact, quite the opposite is true.

For your next assignment, I want you to write a thousand words on the following topic:

My Submission: What It Means to Me

When you have finished, take a walk, eat some dinner, and then write a thousand words on your next topic:

My Submission: What It Means to My Master

I look forward to discussing both assignments with you and giving you my thoughts on each.

Whew.

He wasn’t lying when he told me he would have me use the journal. The night before had been eye-opening, though, in terms of what I discovered as I wrote. While I’d been apprehensive about a party when he first brought it up, I was now looking forward to it more. Especially since he’d forced me to think about and write a way to overcome my fear.

I couldn’t wait to discover what the new writing assignment taught me.

Saturday, 10:30 p.m.

Tonight you will discover how it’s possible to serve me long-distance. You have fifteen minutes to undress and get your cell phone.

You will call me from our bed at 10:45 p.m.

My heart pounded as I read his short letter.

Serve him long-distance?

I couldn’t wait to find out what he meant by that. Even more exciting was simply the opportunity to hear his voice. I mentally calculated the time difference. It would be morning in Hong Kong.

An early lunch break for him, perhaps?

Fifteen minutes later I waited on the bed. At 10:45 exactly, I hit the send button to call him.

The phone clicked as he picked up.

“Abigail,” he said, and I was no longer talking to the weary, worn traveler I’d spoken with hours earlier. The low, commanding voice sending shivers up my spine belonged to only one person.

“Master.”

Chapter Twenty-three

—NATHANIEL—

She spoke that one word, Master, and I heard the nervous excitement in her voice.

“Have you followed my instructions?” I asked.

“Yes, Master.”

“I want you to turn on the speaker, put the phone on the bed, and get into your inspection position,” I said. “Tell me when you’re finished.”

From the other side of the phone came a slight rustling, and I pictured her doing as I asked.

“I’m ready, Master,” she said.

“Thank you, my lovely. Now, tell me what I’d see if I were there.”

I listened as she described her body, as she detailed her position and posture.

“Very nice,” I said when she had finished. “I can see you in my mind, and that’s certainly part of what I wanted to accomplish. However, you just spent a lot of time writing on two very specific assignments. With that in mind, tell me what I see.”

Silence filled the other end of the line as she thought about my words, and then I heard her soft “Oh” and smiled.

“What do I see?” I asked again. “Start with your head.”

“You not only see my head tipped back, but also the meaning behind it,” she said, all excited.

“Which is what?”

“My throat is exposed. Vulnerable. And I place it in offering to you.”

“Yes,” I said. “And your chest?”

“Is thrust forward,” she answered. “But it’s more than presenting you my br**sts. My chest houses my heart, and in this position, my heart is vulnerable, too.” She spoke with pride. “My heart’s one of my body’s most important organs as well as being the symbolic center of my emotions. It’s almost as if I’m offering you my life. You could harm me, but I trust you not to. You could injure me, but I know you would not.”

Her excitement and delight in answering me struck my own symbolic center. “Do you have any idea what it does to me, what it means to me, to see you before me like that?”

“No, Master,” she said. “But I’m getting glimpses.”

“Then we’re both making progress.”

“Yes, Master.”

“If I were with you, I would walk behind you and tell you to move into your waiting position. What would you do with your head?”

“I would drop it, Master.”

“Do it,” I instructed. “Then I brush aside your hair so your neck is bared for me. I lean forward and you feel my breath as it brushes against the delicate skin covering your spine.”

She gave a shaky intake of breath.

“My lips follow the path of my breath,” I continued. “They softly brush your right shoulder blade. I’m running my hand over your left, tracing your fine bone structure under my fingertips.”

She sighed.

“I feel you shudder,” I said. “Your response makes me harder.” I stroked myself in response, but only lightly. We had further to go. “Be my hands as they come around your body. They gently cup your br**sts and I feel your heartbeat. It’s racing. I rub my thumbs across your ni**les and they harden. You’re getting excited, aren’t you, Abigail?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Do you feel your heart?”

“Yes,” she said. “It is racing, Master.”

“I roll your ni**les between my fingertips and start kissing down your neck. My teeth graze your skin and my tongue traces their trail.” I licked my lips. “Your taste is unbelievable.”

I closed my eyes and pictured her. “Lie on your back,” I said, because it would be easier for her and because she’d been kneeling long enough. “We’re on our bed now. Keep your knees bent and spread.” The bed rustled as she complied. “Do you feel the cool air on your pussy? Are you aching to touch yourself?”

“Yes, Master,” she said in an almost groan.

“But are your hands on your br**sts where I left them?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Excellent,” I said. “I move them down your body and across the outline of your rib cage. I feel the rise and fall of your chest and notice how you’re breathing heavier. Do you feel it, too?”

“Yes, Master.”

“I bring my hands lower and move them across your hips. I move myself to rest in between your legs, but I’m careful not to touch where you want me.” I closed my eyes and imagined. “Your lips are soft and you part them under my kiss. You sigh softly, and I dip my hand lower to draw lazy circles around your hip bone.”

I opened my eyes and looked at the phone to my side as if I could see her through it. Webcam next time. “Are you drawing lazy circles?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Master.”

“I pinch your right nipple for that slip,” I said, and I heard the gasp as she did so. “I move my hand back to your lower body and brush it against your belly. What are you feeling?”

“I feel you warm against my front,” she said softly. “Your c**k is hard and pressed to my stomach. I want to feel you lower. I push toward you. Wanting.”

“I know exactly what you want, my lovely,” I said. “And you know I’ll give it to you. I’m just not ready yet.”

She whimpered, and I smiled.

“I drop my head and suckle you,” I said. “I’m rolling your nipple around my tongue, flicking it. Are you pretending your hands are my teeth?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good. Now pinch them because I’m biting and tugging at them. I love the feel of you in my mouth. The slight pull of your skin.”