Chris slept even more soundly that night, making no new demands on his mother. He was still letting her get used to being submissive, and hoping the anticipation was driving her imagination wild with heightened needs. He was pleased at how his mother was accepting her submission to him. "Dad is crazy to ignore her needs for kinkiness," he thought. "But I love her, so I'll give her what she needs."
At breakfast he was again dressed and she was fully nude while preparing their food. He would've been happy to also be naked, letting her see his trim body and throbbing erection, but it was important to maintain the position of dominance reinforced by being clothed while she was not. When she saw him arrive, she'd greeted him with, "Good morning, Sir!" Without being told, she gracefully knelt down before him, and bent over to kiss his shoe. In response, he leaned over and fondly stroked her hair. He may have imagined he'd heard a purring sound caused by this action. "May I continue to prepare breakfast, Sir?" she asked.
"Yes, girl -- you may. And you are looking very beautiful today," he complimented. She blushed at that and set to work with a beaming smile. As he watched, he noticed that she had her feet relatively close together, and was shifting her weight from one leg to the other. That made her pelvis slowly swing back and forth, side to side almost hypnotically. He couldn't tell if she was doing it deliberately, or merely subconsciously. But in either case, he thoroughly enjoyed the view.
After a pleasant breakfast, they moved into the living room. Chris sat in an armchair, and without being told, Dianne sank to her knees in front of him. She didn't say a word, obviously waiting for him to speak. Once again he was pleased by her actions.
"Today, girl, I think we should spend some time exploring more about submission and what it means to be a submissive," he stated. "As a submissive, you want to give some thought to your limits. By this I mean things that you will not do and will not allowed to be done to you. When a limit is absolute we call this a hard limit. There also may be some things that you are not sure about and therefore are hesitant about -- we can call those soft limits. Am I being understood?"
She looked a little pensive. "I think so, Sir. But can you give me some examples?"
"Certainly. Suppose I was to tell you to get a tattoo. That would be a permanent change to your body which you might have a hard time explaining. Or suppose I was to tell you to get your tongue pierced. These are things that you might consider hard limits. On the other hand, I might want to write on your body with a magic marker. You might think that that sounds rather kinky and might be fun, but it might depend on where I'd write it. For instance, if I were to write on your mound the words 'fuck hole' pointing at your pussy -- that might turn you on. But if I were to write it on your face pointing at your mouth -- that might be a limit since it would be seen in public. So writing with a magic marker might be considered a soft limit for you."
Her body language indicated that she was very focused on this discussion. He watched her facial expression and could tell that she was pondering something. He waited quietly for her to voice whatever it was. Finally, she spoke up. "I guess some things are rather obvious, like the examples you gave. I certainly wouldn't want to be cut, or jabbed with needles. I also wouldn't want to do things that would ruin my reputation, such as having you spank me naked in the front yard. But I don't know if I can tell you ahead of time all of my possible limits."
"Precisely. That is a very astute observation," he complimented, making her smile shyly. "That is the reason that you and I will settle on what will be your safeword. This is a word that you wouldn't normally say during our interactions. It serves as a signal telling me that I've approached or even hit a hard limit. If you utter that word, I will immediately stop whatever we're doing and check in with you. That allows you to 'slam on the brakes' and bring things to a halt. I will always try to observe your hard limits. But your soft limits might vary with your mood. What you might consider to be kinky and fun when you're in a certain mood might abhor you in another mood."
"I see, Sir. So should I have the word 'stop' as my safeword?"
He smiled. "It has been my experience that during interactions, a submissive might yell the word 'stop' because it enhances the sensations similar to the way that physically tugging on ropes or other restraints does. Therefore, that is a word that is often said, whereas you want your safeword to be something that you normally wouldn't say. Many submissives prefer a word such as 'red' or something outrageous like 'elephant' as their word. Some even like to have nuances, such as saying 'yellow light' to indicate that I need to slow down what I'm doing because they fear we're getting close to a hard limit, and 'red light' to bring about an absolute cessation of the action."
She nodded, indicating she understood, but her heart was now thumping hard in her chest. This talk of kinky play, limits, and the possibility that things could get so intense that she might have to call out a safeword both excited and frightened her. True, she trusted him, so the excitement far outweighed the fear. Still -- the unknown was the unknown. "Very well, Sir. I'll use 'red' as my safeword, and if I have my wits about me I'll even try the yellow light/red light approach."
"Good girl. And now I have a present for you. I hope you like it." He picked up a small bag that he'd placed alongside the chair earlier. From it, he drew out the leather dog collar that he'd purchased at the grocery store. "I'd like you to wear this as we play today."
"Isn't that a dog collar, Sir?" she queried, her eyebrows sliding into a frown.
"Yes, it is. And you wish to be my pet, don't you?" It might seem strange for a son to ask his mother such a question, but not strange at all for a Dominant to ask his submissive. His question was softly spoken, but his tone of voice was filled with confidence and power.
His mother shivered delicately and goosebumps sprang into existence on both her arms. She leaned closer to him, lifting her chin while holding her hair up out of the way, exposing her neck. As she felt the leather encircle her neck, and felt him working the clasp, an almost electrical sensation shot through her body. In its wake, her nipples stiffened painfully, butterflies took flight inside her tummy, her inner pussy muscles twitched, and her heart seemed to be doing rapid stutter steps inside her chest.
