Mine

Chapter Twenty-Three

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

JT

“I miss my roommate,” Reggie says when I go to the apartment before work. In the week or so since Marshall and I told my parents about us, I’ve spent every night at Marshall’s house. He’s fucked me, and dominated me, and made me feel more loved than I ever have…which is sometimes strange. Not that it’s the same as parental love, of course, because that’s fucking gross, but I’ve always known I’m loved by them—sometimes too much—but I guess with Marshall it’s in a more complete way because he doesn’t ever wish I’m anything other than what I am.

“I miss you too.” I plop down on the couch beside Reggie and hug him. He has to go to work today too, but clearly, he’s not in the mood to get ready yet, since he’s sitting there in his underwear.

“How has it been with your parents? Anything new?”

“Not really. I answered one call from my mom where she tried to talk me out of being with Marshall, said I’m too young for him, that she’s worried about our lifestyle. Still, she asked if I could come home and talk to them, but I said if they can’t accept Marshall and how we love each other, then I can’t do it. The more I’m with him, the less likely I am to accept people who want to change me.”

He nods. “How’s your…Sir…doing with it?”

I sigh, feeling the emotion of our situation weighing heavily on me. “That’s the hardest part. I can tell it’s eating him up inside. He’s quieter than usual. I’ll notice him spacing off and sort of disconnecting—not in a way that makes me feel like it’s because of me, just that he’s struggling—but he doesn’t talk about it. He loves my dad so much. We’re the only family Marshall has, so now I’m the only family he has.” And Jesus, I hope I’m enough. What if he one day regrets choosing me?

“Fuck…that’s hard. But he loves you…he wants you. I hope you’re not doubting that you’re enough.”

I’m not…but I am. It’s all so fucking confusing. Sometimes I wish feelings and situations could all be yes or no, left or right, black or white, but they rarely are. Life is too nuanced for our emotions not to be. “I know he loves me, and that’s what I’m focusing on right now.”

“That’s really all you can do.” He lays his head on my shoulder and kisses my neck. It could be a friendly thing, yes, but I can’t deny it makes a little action go on beneath my pants. Love doesn’t stop attraction. Still, Marshall and I have rules in place for this.

“So…I don’t know if that’s a sorry-about-your-life kiss or a wanna-get-off-together-bestie kiss, but as I mentioned before, I can’t hook up with you without asking Sir first.”

Reggie laughs and pulls back. “Well, it was just a sorry-about-your-life kiss, but now I wanna get off. Cool to know he’s not the jealous type. I know you’re all in love and shit now, though…so what are your thoughts on that? Not just with us.”

I shrug. “I don’t think sex has to mean what a lot of people say it does. The emotion behind it is what matters. I don’t know that I’m the right person for an open relationship, but I wouldn’t be against Marshall and I playing with someone else sometimes. Being with the other person would be about the act. Being with Marshall is about the love. There are really toxic relationships out there, people being horrible to each other, yet the two of us making this decision together is somehow wrong?”

He laughs. “Wow. You have strong feels about that.”

And I realize I do. Again, I’m not sure what I want out of our relationship, but whatever is right for Marshall and me, it doesn’t mean we love each other less than someone who would make a different choice.

“It’s not something I considered until this moment, but yeah, I guess so. Anyway…hooking up with you is fun, but I’m not in love with you.”

“I’m not in love with you either, and your boyfriend is hot, so I’d be down if you’re curious.” He winks, gets up, and heads to his bedroom, and I’m pretty sure there’s an extra shake in Reggie’s ass while he goes.

*

I keep checking the dining room all day for Marshall, though I know he won’t be coming until sometime after work. This will be the first time he’ll be here since he said he would try to make it at least once a week. It means so much to me that this is something he’s going to do—come to the restaurant I enjoy so much, just because I mean that much to him. He sees what’s important to me and wants to be a part of it.

“Hey, Mister Daydreamer. Someone is here to see you.” Reggie nods toward one of the tables in my section, my heart rate immediately picking up when I see Marshall. “God, you’ve got it bad. I feel the love pouring off you. Gross,” my friend teases before disappearing with plates toward one of his tables.

I head straight to Marshall. “Good evening, Sir .”

“It is now,” Marshall counters, and while yes, it’s cheesy as fuck, it makes me melt.

“That was terrible.”

“That made you swoon…and is maybe getting your dick hard,” he says softly, and damn if he’s not right. “Do you think you could sneak to the bathroom for a few minutes? Take a break? I have a surprise for you.”

I check the time. “Actually, I’m up for a break in a few minutes.”

He nods. “I’d like a glass of wine—your choice. Make it something that will go well with whatever I’m eating tonight because you’re going to pick that too. Whatever you think your Sir would like. Something special. I’ll meet you in the bathroom.”

My stomach feels jittery. Yes, I’m excited for whatever he has in store for me, but I also love the idea of being able to feed him—picking something from the menu for this man who means the world to me. Marshall giving me that responsibility is the best kind of high.

“Yes, Sir,” I say, the dancing butterflies in my belly still flittering around.

He stands, and I go get wine for his table and then ask about my break.

“Go ahead,” Barbara, the lead waitress, tells me.

Reggie grabs my attention as I head for Sir. “Why do I have a feeling you’re doing something naughty?”

“Because you’re smart? We’ll be in the bathroom.”

“I’m actually a little jealous right now,” he replies, and I wink at him before walking away on shaky legs, body eager for whatever Marshall has in store for me.

There are three single bathrooms here, all of them gender neutral. I don’t know which one Marshall is in, but then I notice the far one that’s toward the end of the hallway has the door cracked open. I knock gently, then push it open to see him standing there waiting for me.

“Come,” he says simply.

“I’m not quite there yet,” I tease, earning a smile as I close the door behind me and lock it. “What’s my surprise?”

Marshall cocks a brow. “Eager little thing, aren’t you?”

“Always when it comes to you.”

“Jesus, the things you do to me.” He unslings the computer bag from his shoulder that I somehow missed earlier and pulls out a bottle of lube…as well as a cock cage, a butt plug, and a pair of lacy pink panties.

I tremble, reaching out to grab the wall to hold myself up.

“I want you as my toy tonight. Want to know you’re walking around this restaurant plugged and caged, pretty for your Sir, letting me torture you and make you uncomfortable all night…for me.”

My heart raps against my chest like a drum. “Yes, Sir. God, that sounds hot.”

“Yes, it would for a needy little slut, wouldn’t it?”

Blood rushes to my groin, but I know I can’t get hard if that cage is going on my dick. “Yes, Sir. Thank you for letting me be a slut for you.”

“Always, sweet boy.” He cups my face, leans in, and presses his lips to mine. It’s a soft kiss, one full of emotion and not the heat of the moment, which only makes my pulse beat faster. “Open your pants for me. Let’s get your little cock put away before you’re too horny to keep from getting hard.”

Now, I know I don’t have a small dick, and there’s nothing wrong with having one, but hearing him call it little? That one word alone almost gets me stiff. Huh. That’s not one I saw coming.

I work quickly to open my pants. The cage is small, made of plastic, and pink like the panties. Sir pulls my pants and underwear down midthigh, then kneels in front of me and puts the cage around my little cock. The click of it snapping together echoes through the bathroom—I imagine it’s like the sound of the bars of a jail cell, only I want to be put in this prison because it’s what my Sir wants.

“Good boy.” He kisses my thigh, rubs the globes of my ass with his hands, and yep, warmth is heading right for my dick just as I assume he planned, but there’s no space for my dick to swell. “What do you think?”

I look down at the pink plastic covering me, at my small cock all put away for my Sir so he can reach spots in my mind no one but him will ever be able to find. “It feels weird…different. I can tell it will be uncomfortable if I try to get an erection, but…I also think it looks pretty. It makes me feel like I’m yours even more—like your mark on me or a collar.”

He stands, fingers around my throat but not squeezing. “Would you like that? My collar around your neck? Showing everyone you belong to me?”

The butterflies start throwing a damn party in my stomach. “Yes, Sir. So much.”

“Me too.” This time, his lips press to the tip of my nose so sweetly. “Pants off, toy. Let’s dress you up for me.”

“Yes, Marshall.” I hurry and take my shoes, pants, and underwear off. Marshall maneuvers me to the sink and bends me over.

“Hands on the sink. Look in the mirror and spread your legs.”

I do as I’m told.

“I washed my hands before you came in, just so you know.” He kneels behind me, then pumps lube onto his fingers.

“I know. I trust you.”

Another kiss, this one on my left ass cheek, then one on my right, before tracing my rim and pushing one finger in. He doesn’t work me into it slowly, just a couple of pumps before adding a second digit. Blood is flowing, my cock trying to swell, but the cage keeps it from doing so.

I can’t say it’s the most comfortable thing in the world, but I want it, I want to do it for him, which is also wanting it for me. It’s amazing how that works.

A whimper escapes me when Sir pulls his fingers out. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Put something inside me. I want to be full for you…then full of you. I want to walk around all night wearing your plug and your cage to remind me I’m yours.”

“That we belong to each other,” he corrects.

I hear the bottle of lube again, then something bigger is pressing against my ass. My pupils are wide, breaths coming out heavily, a bead of sweat on my temple that I want him to lick away. My cheeks are flushed, and my eyes roll back when he presses forward, stretching me, filling me.

My hands tighten on the sink, dick uncomfortable, ass full, yes and more playing on repeat in my head.

It’s not a huge plug, but I still wince when it gets to the widest part, Sir shushing me softly, touching me, telling me, “You’re doing so well for me. I’m so lucky to have such a good boy.”

It pops inside, my ass closing around the smaller part.

“What do you think, toy?” He stands, then pulls me up so I’m standing straight, the two of us looking at each other in the mirror.

“I love being plugged and caged for you. It’s…a lot, my ass being full and my dick caged. Not too much, but it makes me feel like little sparks are going off inside me…like I’m a live wire or something? I don’t know. I’m not sure if that makes sense.”

“It does. Thank you. Let’s get these pretty panties on you so you’re all dressed up for me.”

Sir turns me around and takes them from his pocket. He helps me step into them, one leg, then the other, before pulling them up. The elastic snaps into place, his hands moving me again so I’m looking in the mirror—flushed cheeks, full ass, the pretty lace covering my obviously caged cock, and… “I look beautiful.”

“Yes, you do. You look like mine.” He pulls the collar of my shirt down, bites into my neck, then licks the sting away.

“Yours.”

Honestly, I feel a little dazed as Sir helps me get dressed again, puts my shoes on, tells me to wash my hands.

“Are you okay? Is it too much?”

I shake my head, then clarify. “It’s not too much, and yes, I’m okay. I love it.”

“Good boy. I’ll check the hallway, and if no one’s there, I’ll sneak out. Lock the door behind me and take whatever time you have for the rest of your break. I’ll be waiting for you when you’re done. I can’t wait to see what you choose for me to eat. You’re so good to your Sir.”

Pride makes my chest expand, but also makes it feel full in this way that only Marshall can do for me. “Thank you for taking such good care of me…” But also giving me the freedom to be myself, to be independent. Those things coexist when it comes to us.

“I love you.” He kisses my cheek, grabs his bag, and goes to the door. “All clear. Lock it behind me. Text me if you need me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Once I ensure no one can accidentally walk in on me, I go back to the mirror, looking at myself. I’ve never worn any of the things Sir has used to dress me up, but I like the feel of them all—the fullness, the way the lacy fabric rubs against my skin when I move, and most surprisingly, the plastic of the cage around me. Would I want to do this all the time? No, but the thought of spending my evening this way, of serving Sir in public without anyone knowing… The truth of what is beneath my clothes feels like the dirtiest but sexiest secret.

I smile, take a few deep breaths, then leave the bathroom—and almost run into Reggie.

“What did you guys do?” he whispers, and my grin grows.

“We didn’t fuck, but I can’t confirm or deny if I’m wearing lace, a cock cage, and a butt plug right now.”

Reggie’s eyes nearly fall out of his head. “Holy…are you…wow…I can’t even settle on one sentence.”

“Methinks someone might be a little more interested than they thought.”

“I have to admit I’m curious.”

Which again reminds me of what Sir said about Reggie. Will he change his mind now that we’re in love? Will he think that means I don’t want him? That he’s not enough for me? Those things couldn’t be further from the truth, and I trust that he knows that. Maybe I’ll talk to him before I mention it to Reggie, just in case.

“I’ll get back to work. I need to go tell the kitchen what I want Marshall to eat.”

Reggie nods, and I feel his eyes on me as I go, but they’re nothing like the heat of Sir’s gaze…like Sir is picturing what’s beneath my clothes and is struggling to control himself. The power in that—in giving myself to him and knowing the effect it has on him—is everything, made even better when I go to the kitchen and choose the perfect dinner for him.