Delaying the inevitable.

You finish writing the last sentence, set down your pencil, and stretch your cramped fingers. Six pages of text lie before you. You haven’t written this much by hand in ages. You weren’t able to talk for ten years and you still never wrote this much in one go. You stand, stretch your back and neck, lean back against the massive boardroom table in the center of the meeting room Maisie and you have been in for several hours.

“You need a comma there, babe.” Maisie says, pointing to a spot on the page. You turn, take the pencil and add the comma. Maisie returns to proofreading the newest version of one of the commands you are writing to place limits on the usage of Maisie’s curse. It’s tedious, but it is important, and while it may be annoying how many revisions you have to make, you are happy Maisie is as contract-savvy as she is. When you finally add her name to the front of each command on the multi-page set of instructions, it will be good to know that there shouldn’t be any unintended consequences.

“Thank you for doing this, babe.” Maisie says, with a complicated smile. There’s a lot in her expression. She is grateful you are willing to let her oversee this, but she also knows why the two of you are doing this. Why it matters that you have these limits.

Part of you bristles at the guardrails being put on using Maisie’s curse. If you allow yourself to think one way, this all feels like an accusation. Maisie needing protection because you aren’t really a good man, that you were a few poorly-worded commands from becoming an abusive monster. Or that you were too dumb to be trusted to not command something awful on accident. But then you’d think of Claire. Would you want a man that took control of her to agree to such limitations, you obviously would. Maisie deserves that same level of safety. And what would you think of a man who refused and argued that such protections weren’t needed? You’d rightly doubt that man’s sincerity and be more convinced such protections were necessary.

Even the act of arguing against the limits seemed like a step in the wrong direction, so you didn’t fight it. But the real bottom line was Maisie needed these rules to feel safe, so you’d do it. You’d do whatever she needed for her to feel safe with you. Besides, it wasn’t like she was taking the power away, just making sure there was room to fix things that might go wrong before they went wrong.

The gist of the restrictions you had agreed to were pretty basic:

The first gave Maisie a chance to question if a command was what you intended before acting on it. This would help prevent accidental commands as well as poorly worded commands having undesired effects. It would also help in the case of misunderstandings. You’d been married long enough to know sometimes Maisie took your words differently than you intended. Being able to clarify your intent in those circumstances would be a good thing.

There was a cleverly worded clause that let you know anytime you gave her a command, and how she felt about that command. Again, Maisie was worried about innocent mistakes causing serious consequences. This way if a command got through the first restriction but wasn’t what you wanted, you would be better equipped to fix it.

Then there were a group of “preset” commands that were largely Maisie’s idea. It allowed complex commands to be given out with accuracy and quickness. Like instead of saying “Maisie, you are aware of the danger that our daughter is currently in. Further, you have the speed, strength, and reflexes needed to save Claire before she is injured. You also have all the medical knowledge to treat any injuries she may have and will know if she needs medical attention beyond what you can give,” you would be able to yell “Maisie, Momma Bear!” and gain the same effect.

There were several business-related ones, and a few to protect Maisie should she end up in danger. Then the really brilliant idea Maisie had to makes certain commands able to be activated by her, with a clause that would let you know anytime she did so.

You watched her as she read and re-read each page, pouring over every word, every mark of punctuation, making sure everything was perfect. She was nothing if not thorough. If you hadn’t seen her deal with contracts before you’d think she was stalling. But even if she was stalling, you wouldn’t blame her. Not with what you had to deal with next.

You expected she already knew how you felt about the man who was trying to **** her. You had given her the ability to read people incredibly well, and you had lived with her having that ability for the last ten years. She had gotten so good at reading you that it often hadn’t mattered that you couldn’t speak to her, she already knew what you were going to say most of the time anyway. She hadn’t lost that when you regained your voice. There was little chance she didn't know you wanted the man dead.

What was different was how she behaved with that knowledge. Maisie seemed worried, but passive. Normally if she knew you disagreed with her the two of you would have it out, not a fight, but she would have approached it head on. You had developed a system for the times the two of you disagreed strongly. Both of you would type out your thoughts, your argument, whatever the conflict was, you would both spell out your side, then hit send at the same time and look at the other one’s thoughts. It had worked well, often leading to both of you coming to the same idea for a compromise without any further debate, or one of you realizing it meant a lot more to the other and giving in or working out some compensation for going along with the other’s choice.

But now? Maisie was quietly working and ignoring the tension in the room, she seemed almost submissive in her avoidance of any conversation about the reason this had all started. It really showed when she turned to you and spoke.

“It’s ready.” She said softly, sounding a bit sad.

“I can add your name now?” you clarify.

She nods, then grabs your wrist as you pick up the pencil. “Babe, you don’t have to do this. You are my master, and I meant what I said, I’ll go with whatever you want.”

“I don’t want my wife to be afraid of me, Maisie.” You say it bitterly and immediately regret your tone.

“I’m sorry.” She chokes back a sob as she says it. You grab her shoulders, make her look at you.

“Maisie, I love you and I’m not going to let anything destroy what we have. Not the loss of my voice, not these rules, not some asshole that found out about your family’s curse. You and Claire are what I care about, and I’ll do whatever I can to protect us, to protect the life we’ve built.”

“I know.” She says, touching your face gently before kissing you. You’ve kissed Maisie thousands of times, but the last time one felt like this was those two days after Maisie took your voice. It was a pleading kiss, a kiss **** for forgiveness, for understanding. It was Maisie apologizing for the past and afraid for the future, scared of what was next.

“Can we go home, Babe?” She asked as you held her.

“Now?” There was a lot left to plan out if you were going to deal with this guy.

“I think I will be better able to handle this if I can sleep on it first.” Maisie lays her head on your chest. She’s tired and nervous. You scoop up the papers with the orders on them, put them in a document pouch and kiss the top of her head.

“Sure, Maisie, let’s go home.” You can put her name on the orders and have her read them tomorrow. You are pretty tired yourself, it is a smart idea to get a fresh look at them in the morning before you put them into place.

The two of you walk close to each other, your shoulders brushing as you hold her hand in silence. The walk back doesn’t take long, but it is 3 AM when you get back to your apartment, 4 hours since you left Claire with Annabelle. You refuse Annabelle’s offer to refund the 8 hours you overpaid her for, Maisie and you have always overpaid her for these unscheduled hours. You considered it an investment in her availability and discretion. After seeing Annabelle out you head to the bedroom, flop straight down on the bed. You take a few breaths, think of how much your life has changed since you got out of this same bed this morning. Now it is the middle of the night and the world feels like a very different place.

You lie there and Maisie walks over to you, picks up your foot and takes off one of your shoes, then the other. She’s gentle and quiet as she undresses you. When she takes off your shirt and you are fully naked, she pulls the covers up to your chest and strips herself. You watch her, it’s been ten years, countless times you have seen her naked, but you’ve never gotten tired of seeing your wife’s incredible body.

Maisie slips under the covers, disappears as you feel her hands on your legs.

“Maisie. . .“ You start to say something, but lose your train of thought as her lips find your flaccid penis. She takes all of you inside her mouth. It’s one of her favorite things to do, have your dick in her mouth when it starts to get hard. You are tired and the day has been a long, stressful one but it still doesn’t take long at all for Maisie to have you fully erect. She sucks and licks you a little longer before you feel her move, kissing your stomach as her head comes out from under the blanket.

You reach down and touch her hair, brush your fingers against her ear and the side of her face. She doesn’t look up, doesn’t meet your eyes. Maisie just kisses your chest as she climbs out from under the covers. She lies against you, one hand casually stroking your erection as she kisses you gently.

“Babe,” she starts. You can hear the trepidation in her voice. “Do you want me?”

“What? Of course I want you, Maisie.” You answer, as if your erection wasn’t clear enough of an answer.

“Even after all I’ve done, after I. . .” You cut her off by pulling her to you and kissing her hard. You flip her under you, run your hand over her shoulder roughly. Maisie yields to you, lying underneath you as you claim her mouth with yours, claim her body with your touch. Her soft moans lead you farther, your fingers finding her sex as you kiss and suck around her nipples.

“Oh, babe. . .” she cries as you rub the outside of her labia. She grabs your cock, jerking it roughly as she moans. You circle your fingers around her opening and Maisie responds by pushing down into you, trying to fuck herself on your fingers.

“Please.” She begs as you evade her attempts to push things farther. “Don’t tease me, Babe.”

The way she says it and how strongly she is responding to your touch make it very tempting to continue messing with her. You know how much she needs this so instead you turn her away from you, spoon her from behind as you kiss the back of her neck and shoulders. She takes your cock in her hand and guides you to her entrance and you thrust your hips, driving your shaft inside her.

It hits you, this is your first time you’ve had sex with Maisie with your voice. Your first time having sex with Maisie had been the morning after she told you about her curse, right after she had changed you and taken your voice. The two of you spent most of that day fucking, the next day too. She’s still that same Maisie, her body still feels the same and she still reacts the same way to your touch. You reach around her, finding her labia, running your fingers over the edges of her mound as she grabs her pillow and pushes it over her mouth, muffling her moans.

It feels normal, it feels fantastic, but it also feels safe. just like every other time you’d made love to your wife. You didn’t want it to feel the same. Your relationship wasn’t the same, you weren’t the same. You had your voice now, you feel like you should use it.

“Maisie.” Your voice a lust-fueled growl. Her breath catches, she reaches back, grabs your thigh.

“Master.” She responds breathily as she shudders against you.

There’s a lot you want to do with her, a lot you need to work out, but you are also brand new to this dynamic, and you are tired, not exactly at your best. You also aren’t far from the edge, so you keep things simple and straightforward.

“Maisie, cum with me, cum for me.” You command as you accelerate your thrusts into her. You work your fingers around her the mound of her sex, building the tension till you can feel your release coming.

“Ngh, Nghhh . .” Maisie’s moan builds toward her climax as you reach your peak. You bury yourself inside her and drum your fingers against her sensitive nub as she screams into her pillow. You press against her, filling her as much as you can while smacking your fingers harder, faster into her clitoris as she squeezes your cock, her orgasm milking your cock dry. Maisie’s whole body tenses and she flails, grabbing at the sheets with her hands as her eyes roll back and her mouth falls open in a silent scream.

When you are spent you lie there in silence, just the sound of her breath, the sour smell of your sweat mixing together, and the feel of your crumpled silk sheets. Your slowly softening dick is still inside her, your arms are wrapped around her, holding her to you. It was such a little thing, only a few words shared between you, but it felt monumental, like everything had changed. Like a bridge was crossed that couldn’t be uncrossed.

“You okay, Maisie?” you ask.

“Mhmm.” She responds sleepily. Then she snuggles into you, rests her hand on your arm. “My master. . .”

Part of you is thrilled with how she says it. The boost to your ego from her submission is intoxicating. But it’s also worrisome. Your entire relationship with Maisie she has feared her curse. It drove her to go out of her way to try and please you, and then to steal your voice, thinking it would stop you from commanding her. You’d lived ten years with her as she kept secret that you still had control. It took that man threatening her to get the truth out of her. And now you have the truth, you have your voice, you have control of her.

Lying there, holding your wife as she falls asleep in your arms, you can only hope that her fears have been unfounded, that the two of you can navigate this curse without letting it consume you, that it doesn’t have to change you for the worse.