Bound to Serve (2)

Work had been crazy for both of them for several weeks. The flu ran rampant through their jobs, creating a backlog of “things to be done”. At the end of every day they shared a quick meal, a bit of tv time, or sometimes, just fell into bed with one another. Each day blurred into the next. Weekends were spent attending to the chores that rarely got done.

“In the spring we’ll have more time,” He promised.

“I know. I just…”

“I know.” He pinched her nipples as the tv blasted yet another commercial. She whimpered, wriggling against Him. Yet they were too tired to do more than that. Another night, another day passed. She was antsy. She was trying to not be mad. But they were a 24/7 D/s couple.

Except–without the D or the s.

The clench in her belly hit her as she hung up the phone. She leapt from her desk, bolting to the ladies room, where she barely made it to the toilet.

“Lily? Are you okay?”

Crystal, her friend came into the room, having noted the mad dash. The sound of wretching came from the middle stall.

“uhm…obviously not. Should I call Craig for you, ask him to pick you up?”

There was a cough, and a weak ‘no’. The toilet flushed and a moment later she emerged. Moving to the sink, she splashed water on her face, rinsed her mouth.

“I can’t believe the crud got me. I’ve washed my hands a gazillion times, taken my vitamins-”

“Well, you know almost everyone’s had something. You’ve been healthy as an ox. So…I guess it’s your turn. Do you need me to drive you home?”

“No, I’m okay. Kind of. Queasy, but I think it’s fading.”

“It comes in waves,” Crystal warned. “Get home and get to bed. Trust me–you’ll spend the next 24 hours in bed wishing you would just die and get it over with…and then you’ll wake up and be totally fine. It’s weird.”


She napped, though she rarely did that. When she woke, she was fine. No tummy ache–in fact, she was starving. Ravenous, even. Rising from the bed she noted it was only just past noon. Lunch time. Might as well see what she could eat and keep inside her belly.


“I’m fine. Really.”

He placed His hand on her forehead, but there was no fever. She looked wonderful, actually.

“But you puked.”

“I did. It was gross. But I must have …uhm…thrown it off.”

“or up.”

She laughed. They shared the same strange sense of humor.

“Since we have this extra time…” she said, tugging down the lacy front of her nightgown.

“No. You rest. And I don’t want the pukies.”

“What about ‘in sickness and in health’?” she asked, pouting a little bit.

“I still love you. I’m just not touching any body fluids until I know you’re well and I won’t get it. Because you know…if I puke, you  clean it up.”

“That’s gross.”

“I know. I like it.”

She forgot, sometimes, that this too was part of their dynamic. Dammit. With a sigh she flopped back to her side of the bed. She definitely didn’t want to get Him sick now.


She went to work, feeling fine. At 930 she was back in the middle stall again, heaving up her breakfast. Once again Crystal followed her into the bathroom. Observing her pale face, she leaned back against the sink.

“Honey…are you….pregnant?”

Lily blinked. No.


“Well…I don’t know.”

She paused, thinking, feeling stupified by the whole upchuck experience, and the blindside of maybe being pregnant.


She turned to look at her friend.

“Drugstore run at lunch. Don’t say a word to anyone.”

“Promise. Cross my heart. Pinkie swear.”

Crystal held out her pinkie, crooked and ready to recieve Lilly’s pinkie. They hooked their baby fingers together, nodded, shook hands, and then snapped their hands apart. They’d been pinky swearing together for years; it was the utmost of promises.


She left work early. It was the first time in forever. She was naked but for the outfit He loved best, tiny wisps of lace covering her nipples, her crotch. The stiletto’s were red tonight. She wore her matching red patent leather collar. The table was set, dinner was almost ready.

Hearing His car in the drive, she moved into the position He loved best. Her face low, forehead to the floor to offer her submission. Her ass and pussy were raised to offer her body. She breathed slowly and steadily to control her excitement as she heard the sound of His footsteps on the porch.

He opened the door, held it wide as he paused to take in the scene. A trail of posty notes circled her, with arrows pointing. He closed the door, setting His briefcase by it, hanging His keys. He shrugged out of His coat, hanging it neatly away in the closet. He smacked her ass, the red print rising against the pale skin.

He wanted to fuck her, right there, but the notes piqued his curiosity. It had been a long while since they’d played, had anything more than vanilla sex. Which was fine, as far as it went. But it didn’t fill either of their deepest needs for very long. Just for the hell of it, He paused to smack her other butt cheek. Might as well match.

He moved through the house. She’d been creative. A whip was left on the back doorknob, a buttplug in the doorway to the cellar. Oh yes, her needs were piqued too. The trail led to the dining room. Her cuffs were there beside His fork. He moved closer, then froze.

In the middle of the charger was a small china plate of pure white. In the middle of that was a plastic wand.

In the middle of that was a blue plus sign.