‘How did you get my number Mistress?’ Finlay replied.
‘That’s not for you to know cupcake. Now don’t forget what I said. No opening the box till you’re told. Are you going to be obedient?’
‘Good. Now go and put it beside your bed.’
Finlay hesitated. If the damn thing vibed and thudded all night, it was going to keep him awake.
But somehow, he felt the weight of her gaze upon him. It was probably psychological, but he couldn’t be sure. So he took the buzzing box into the bedroom and set it on the floor.
Settling himself once again in the living room with his whiskey, he started to type out a new text. She beat him to it though.
‘Good job Sub,’ she said.
He grinned. ‘Thank you Miss.’
‘Get some rest now Finlay and enjoy your whiskey. I will be in touch again soon.’
His smile disappeared. He looked around, half expecting to see her standing there, or to see a hidden camera twinkling in the light fittings. There was nothing.
‘Goodnight Ma’am,’ he typed.
There was no response.
He looked at his phone lying on the arm of the chair and let the whiskey swirl around his tongue.
He’d definitely had some strange experiences since joining the kink world, but this was one of the more unusual ones. He went to sleep that night to the sound of the mystery box vibrating by the bed. Oddly, he found it soothing and he slept soundly until his alarm went off.
After eating his hastily made omelet; egg white only, he discovered another text from Mistress Sheba.
‘Two more parcels will arrive today. As per yesterday, you will not open them. You will bring them home and put them along with the other one.’
‘Good. I’ll be watching.’
Finlay didn’t like that. On the way to work, he considered opting out. He didn’t have to engage with Mistress Sheba if he didn’t want to. He might be a Sub, but he still had rights. He had not exactly formally accepted her offer anyway. He was curious though. And apart from the creepy ‘I’m watching you’ thing, she hadn’t actually acted out of place.
He decided he would wait and see what happened when the other parcels arrived.
By four pm he had a raging headache from constantly glancing over at reception everytime the door opened. All day he’d waited.
He rubbed his throbbing temple and his phone pinged.
‘Such a patient Sub,’ said her text. She followed it up with a winking face emoji.
‘Delivery for you here Fin!’ called the girl at the front desk.
He swung round in his chair and shot over to sign the electronic pad the courier held out.
‘Thanks man!’ waved the delivery guy.
Jackie, the receptionist eyed him, struggling with the boxes.
‘Someone’s popular lately.’
He laughed awkwardly. ‘It’s about time,’ he said.
Later that night, after depositing the other two boxes with the first, he set about making himself dinner and wondered about Jackie’s comment. She didn’t seem the dominant type, but what if she was his mystery Domme? He diced the pancetta and peeled the garlic before adding it to the press.
His phone beeped.
‘Thinking about me?’ the message said.
He ignored it for a moment and poured himself a glass of Sancerre Rouge to go with his carbonara. He stirred the pasta, tasted it for seasoning, made an adjustment or two, then returned to his phone.
‘I was actually Mistress. I was wondering about your identity. But I trust you will reveal all when you are ready.’
‘Good answer. Now eat your dinner and get some rest. There will be two more parcels arriving tomorrow. As before, you are not to open them. Bring them home and put them with the rest. Understood?’
By Friday he had a total of seven parcels and his room was getting a little crowded. He heard nothing from her all weekend and as time went on, he found himself afflicted by feelings of temptation. He ran his hand over the boxes, careful not to pick at the tape. He examined the labels for clues. He shook the boxes for signs of what might be within. But there was none.
Sunday night he slept fitfully. He dreamt that his Domme was actually inside one of the boxes and that when he unpacked her, she stood up in the box, all dressed in neon green lace and black pvc, then slashed his throat with a straight razor.
He woke up with a start, covered in sweat, heart thumping, feeling so uneasy that he decided to go sleep in the living room. When morning came, he decided he must text her and tell her he’d had enough. It was all just too weird.
Thumb poised to send his message, the phone beeped not unexpectedly. It was as if she had a sixth sense.
‘Good weekend Sub?’ she asked.
He deleted the message he had just typed.
‘Yes thank you Ma’am. I trust you did also?’
‘I did indeed.’
There was nothing further for a few minutes. Then he got two texts one after the other.
‘Open the first box Finlay. The noisy one.’
‘Then text me.’
Setting down his americano, he hurried into the bedroom brandishing scissors and attacked the box.
Inside were five things…
A small butt plug.
A medium butt plug.
A large butt plug.
A large vibrating remote controlled butt plug.
From in the kitchen, his phone beeped again.
‘I’m assuming you opened the box Sub. Happy Monday,’ the text read. ‘You now have another task to fulfill for me. You’re going to wear that small butt plug for me to work. All day.’
Finlay stared at his phone. Shit! He wasn’t good with butt play. He had little experience.
‘No need to freak out Fin. We’re starting small for a reason. There’s loads of lube too.’
‘Yes Miss. It will be fine. I’m happy to train my ass for you.’
The last text he sent sounded much more confident than he felt.
‘Oh, I know you’ll be fine. And so will the butt plugs. It isn’t their first rodeo…before I sent them, I tested them on my ass first.’
Fin dropped his phone and dashed into the bedroom to examine the contents of the first box again. This time with a seething erection.