September 9, 2013

The Tyrant and the Subject

Posted in stories tagged , , , , , at 6:00 am by littlesubmissions

“I kind of like it when you just take things.”

She shrugged, and threw another book in the donate pile. “I appreciate that, but sometimes I also appreciate it when you just give me things.”

“Sometimes I just give you things because I think you’ll just take them if I don’t.” He put the book in a box and rearranged another pile of “Keep” before it fell over. “Hope that doesn’t ruin it for you.”

She shrugged again. “Not really, I mean, let’s face it, you always have your safeword, and if you really wanted to stop, you’d use it. I know on a certain level that everything we do you want to do, your occasional screams and protests aside.”

He looked at the book and frowned. “Bellows, those are more like bellows.”

She grinned and threw a book at him. “You need original material, you’ve used that quote before. And I’m pretty sure you got the wording wrong anyway.”

He nodded agreeably. “I’ll try to think of some. About the taking thing?”

“Uhm-hm.” She looked from pile to pile, finally sighed and threw another book in the donate pile. At the rate the author was writing she’d be long dead and civilization would have crumbled before the series ended anyway.

“What if we compromised? For every one thing you just took, I gave you one thing?”

She mulled the idea over. “I think it could go very badly for you. Give me an example?”

“Well… I don’t think you could take everything, I’d still not into the 24/7 mistress/slave uber-BDSM lifestyle. But maybe tyrant/subject?” He flipped through a book in the keep pile and pulled out an old grocery list. “I figure a good tyrant would get about 1/3 of a subject’s productivity, that’s 1/3 for the subject, 1/3 for the tyrant, and 1/3 for God. So what if I gave you 1/3 of my orgasms? Wore the chastity device for 1/3 of each day?”

“You want to give me your locked up cock for eight hours a day? To be honest that sounds really inconvenient. I think I’ll just take one-third of your cock. I want the third on the end, you can have the rest. I’ll be generous and still let you piss out of it, but if you want to jerk off, no touching the last third. And if I find the urethral sounds, I’m going to do some renovating.”

He thought it over. “Okay. What do you want to take?”

“You need about 1100 words of vocabulary to have a decent conversation. I want one-third of your words.” She frowned as she did the math. “So I’ll be taking 366, starting with yellow and red. I’ll let you know the rest as we go along.”

“Hey! Those are my safewords!”

“Tyrant.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded and started on another shelf. “If you seriously want to do this, yeah. So far I own one-third of your cock, that’s the third furthest from your balls, which I’ll let you keep all of because I’m not at all interested, and one-third of your words, including red and yellow. Oh, also the word ‘no.’ I’ll take that one as well. Agreed?”

“Well, yes, because I can’t say the other word.”

“I look forward to making you scream ‘Antonym of yes’ over and over by the way.”

He laughed along with her. “I look forward to screaming ‘Crimson, Ruby, Barn Red’ if things get too heavy.”

She walked over and sat on the floor beside him, leaning back against the wall and putting her hand on his leg. “See? That’s my point. Even if I took away your safe word, I’d still respect it if you used it. So I can only do so much taking before it all feels fake, and like I’m just telling you what to give me, and I prefer it when you find things on your own. You surprise me, and it’s nice to know you just gave me those things, because you wanted to.”

He rubbed the top of her hand with his own, and listened carefully. “I see your point. Worst tyrant ever, but I see your point.”

She smiled at him. “Worst? Or best?”

He frowned. “I’m really not sure, but it seems to be working out well for both of us.”

She kissed his cheek, and got back up. “It was working out well for you. One third of your books would have cleared a lot of space on these shelves. And I definitely thought about it.” She walked overt to the shelves and frowned.

He smiled too and stood up, walking over to hug her from behind. “How about a fifth?”

She nuzzled into the crook of his arm, and purred. “See? I’d rather be given a fifth than take a third.”

“Best tyrant ever.” He kissed her neck and started sorting his books.

Preview: She laughed again, appreciating his caution, not impatient. Yet.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

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