Behind Closed Doors (pt 1)

Russel buried his head in his hands as his wife reached an arm across his back. The doctor excused himself and slipped quietly from the room, leaving the pair to grieve their loss. For two years, the Garrets had tried to conceive their first child but to no avail. The test results crumpled in Russel's hand explained clearly why: he was sterile.

The pamphlets Dr. Wong had pushed across his desk glared up at June. Smiling men and women with newborn babies plastered their covers, each offering a different and expensive option to fix the problem at hand. She turned her head into her husband's shoulder and wept. She cried, not for the news, but because her husband, her Master, was hurting and she could do nothing to ease his pain. She had feared it was her fault, thought that she was barren, but never did it occur to her that there was something wrong with him.


After a silent drive home, Russel spent the remainder of the day pressed deep in his recliner, whiskey in hand, watching June as she wandered from room to room, tidying. He sat in contemplative silence as she cooked dinner, set the table, and served a full four course meal for two. It was only after the table had been cleared, the kitchen had been cleaned, and the bed covers were pulled back that he spoke.

"I release you from our bond." His gravelly voice startled his wife. She froze, blouse buttons trapped between long, graceful fingers.

"Sir," she whispered, frightened, "What have I done to displease you?" She fought to keep her head bowed, but not to hide the quiver in her voice.

Russel moved around the bed and wrapped his arms tightly around his wife's body. Pain radiated through his words, "Displease me? No, never My Pet!" He buried his face in her hair, inhaled deeply the scent of wildflowers and honey. The knife of ultimate loss twisted in his gut; he did not deserve to own such a sweet little pet if he could not give her everything her heart desired and her heart, as well as his, cried out for a child.

His lips burrowed until they met her ear. A gentle kiss atop the elf-like tip preceded his whispered reasoning, "If I cannot provide for you, then you should be free. Free to find another owner, another husband, another..." his voice caught. "Another to father your children."

June tensed in his embrace. She closed her eyes, took a deep, shaky breath, and turned to face her husband. She pulled away, disengaged his arms, and stepped back from him. Her reply came in one word, formed firmly between her perfect lips, with a force she had never exerted when speaking to Russel. "No."

Relief washed over his face as he sank down to his knees. His tall form bowed as his arms, outstretched, grasped for her waist. She was lost when he clung to her, pulled her near, sobbing, "Forgive me, My Pet, forgive me!"

June stood still as her husband wailed and begged, confused as to what to do. She had never seen him break down, had never seen him show an ounce of weakness. He was always in control, always hidden behind a mask of indifference.

"Oh, My Pet," his voice broke through his tears, rougher with emotion and painfully pleasant to her ears. She reached down to smooth his hair out of his face. Her soft fingertips brushed aside his black hair as she shushed soothingly. Russel's lips, pressed against her shirt, left off mumbling and began trailing kisses over her belly.

It took little coaxing for Russel to pull June to her knees, his kisses traveling up as she lowered. Salt-stained lips captured her mouth; she tasted his need before she felt him press against her thighs.

The emotional drain of the day left him hungry for her in a way he had never felt before. A desperation filled his soul; years of skill lost with the crumbling of his inner sanctum. His hands fumbled at her clothing as if he were a teenage boy again. Awkward movements gave rise to momentary frustration, peaking with torn fabric and a triumphant growl. June gasped when his needy aggression spilled her backwards onto the carpet, his weight falling atop her body. He took her quickly, quietly devouring her moans as he thrust deep.

Russel gave one last push and spilled himself deep within her core. His tears continued to stream down his cheeks, splashing and rolling down her face. He buried his face in June's neck, arms still wrapped underneath her body, cock still nestled in her warmth. He could barely feel her trembling hands stroke down his back or hear her tender murmurs.

What seemed like hours passed before he rolled sideways, pulling her partly off the carpet as he rested on his back. "My Pet," he whispered, "I love you."