Chapter Nine
I had felt an unaccustomed remorse in my sharing of Lisa. My initial
alcohol-induced demonstration of my power over her had somehow become a
perverted evolution into her and Brian's exclusive shared passion. I had assumed
there would be an understanding between the three of us, but somehow had been
maneuvered out of my position.
I had awoken the morning after the party and the absence of Lisa in her
accustomed place in my bed was jarring. I had raised myself and peered over the
side of the bed. On the floor a naked and leashed Ingrid lay curled on her
cushion. Before I had retired I had released her from the table and allowed her
to clean up. In the morning light she looked none the worse nonetheless for wear
from the previous day's abuses. In fact I noted a slight smile on her parted
lips. I reached down and ran my fingers across her cheek. She turned her head
and licked my hand. "At least I can depend on you," I muttered.
After a shower I met for breakfast, with the exception of Brian and Lisa, the
rest of my fellows. It was late morning when the two finally emerged from her
quarters. They sat together and across from me at the large table. They made no
effort to hide the fact that a warm relationship had blossomed. Lisa had cast
several cautious looks at me and I had smiled at her. Brian seemed completely at
ease with the situation and joined the ongoing banter with a smooth grace. I
maintained a dispassionate front but inwardly I was furiously churning at what I
perceived as a gross abuse of my hospitality.
The company had long over-extended their welcome before finally they
perceived my polite but barely concealed wish for want of them to go. Lisa then
accompanied them to the street below to say goodbye. Time passed and she did not
return and I looked out the window. The two new lovers were wrapped in a tight
embrace on the sidewalk. I closed the drapes, sat down, lit a cigar and pondered
my options.
I wondered if my uncle had foreseen this. Certainly he was not so intuitive
as to predict this emotional quagmire I found myself in. Possibly, I wondered if
he wanted me to learn a lesson in possession, the heart and detachment.
I determined I had two options. I could either take Lisa to task for her
behavior or I could ignore the situation. Any expression of displeasure would
probably be perceived, as jealousy and I abhorred the thought of losing my cool
veneer. I resolved not to mention the previous evening's events.
But not addressing the matter over the next few days did not solve the
problem. Lisa and I had no time for long discussions because we were both busy.
Her classes were in a testing stage and I had been learning some of my Uncle's
business. I had received a telegram with directions involving the transfer of
funds and the delivering of some documentation to several lawyers. The
completion of these tasks had kept me occupied.
The household routine might have returned to normal except Lisa had not
returned to my bed. I did not immediately confront her newfound sense of
independence but decided to let events play out as they may.
I had seen her using the phone one evening and her actions when she noticed
me seemed furtive. She made a quick perfunctory "goodbye" and then hung up. I
had asked her to whom she was speaking to and she had replied "a professor".
Then on Friday morning after exercising I passed her room and noticed the
door was ajar. There was open luggage on her bed. I entered the room and
examined the bags and realized she was packing for a trip. There was a train
ticket on her bureau. Her shower was running and I was tempted to take rash
action by immediately confronting her. But showing great restraint I went to my
own quarters and took a shower. Then clad only in a long thick -piled robe I
went to the front room and waited.
It was an hour later when she came out of her quarters and entered the room.
She seemed taken aback when she saw me. I was sitting next to the open control
panel with a stack of my Uncle's documentation in my lap. The instrumentation
was glowing with activation.
She was stunning, being stylishly dressed in a fashionable skirt and jacket.
She wore a white high-necked blouse, which modestly covered her collar. She had
a leather bag hanging from her shoulder and was carrying a matching overnight
bag. Her hair was done up and she had applied unaccustomed make-up to her face.
She was clutching an envelope in her hand.
She stopped and we stared at each other.
"Leaving?" I asked casually.
She held out the envelope. " I explained everything here," She said quietly.
"No," I said making a dismissive wave with my hand, "You tell me right now
what you are doing."
She took a deep breath. Then said haltingly "Brian sent me tickets to come
and see him in Boston this weekend. I am catching a train."
I nodded. "I see... were you planning on asking my permission?" I asked in
the same casual manner.
She looked away from me and bit her lip. She looked down at the floor. " I
didn't know how to ask you without hurting you," she nearly whispered.
I let several moments pass. She stood before me and fidgeted. Our
relationship had evolved from the Master/slave hierarchy. I knew I could force
her to stay, but my heart was not truly in it. The thought of a blunt traumatic
scene was anathema to me. "You should have asked me, Lisa, I would not have
objected, I finally said. "But before you go, my needs must be satisfied.' I
added.
She looked up at me questionably.
"Come to me," I ordered in a low tone. I held out my hand. My other hand
casually rested on the control device.
She made several hesitate steps to me and lay her hand in mine.
"John, please!" she said in a tight tone and squeezed my hand. "You will not
need to use that thing,' indicating the control device, "I will do whatever you
want me too, but I do need to catch my train"
"Lisa, I am not going to argue with you," I answered in a calm tone. "You
know your primary duties and the way you are expected to obey your true Master."
I firmly tugged her downward and between my legs. She slowly sank to her
knees before me. I smelled Chanel No. 5.
"I am happy I did not have to resort to harsh means of reminding you of your
responsibilities," I drummed my fingers across the humming cabinet.
She closed her eyes, sighed and her shoulders slumped. She had set her
suitcase down beside her and she pulled her bag from her shoulder. She set the
bags together and looked up to me. She rested her hand on my knee.
I ran my fingers across her cheek and down her throat. I unbuttoned her
blouse collar. The material was fine white linen.
"Are you ashamed of your slave collar, Lisa?" I asked her. She did not
answer.
I unbuttoned several more of the tiny pearl fasteners opening her blouse to
expose her cleavage. She wore a dainty white bra. Her full breasts bulged within
the silken confines.
I hooked a finger at the junction of the cups and jiggled her bosom. Her hand
came up to cover mine and I thought she might protest. Her eyes searched my face
for a clue to my intentions.
I was impressed how, what I thought to be a simple Italian peasant girl, had
fixed her-self up to look like a sophisticated big city lady.
"A slave girl's breasts should always be bared for her Master," I reproached
her. "Take this off."
She again sighed and again I thought she was going to argue. But instead she
sat back on her heels and concentrated on unfastening the final blouse buttons.
She avoided my eye she twisted in an unavoidably provocative fashion to reach
behind herself and unfasten the brassiere. She shrugged her shoulders and the
loose cups dropped from her breasts. Still avoiding my stare, she carefully
folded the light piece of lingerie and set it on top the suitcase.
Her eyes flickered up to meet mine, and then she looked down again. I reached
out to palm her breasts in both my hands. I squeezed the heavy melon- sized
handfuls. She took a deep breath. I rolled her nipples with my thumbs.
"When does your train leave, Lisa?' I asked her.
She glanced at the clock on the mantle. "At one o'clock," she answered. It
was noon.
"Well, we had better get this over with," I replied in a moderated tone.
"Take out your Master's cock and kiss it"
Our eyes were locked as she gauged my resolve. Then she took a breath, looked
down at my crotch, and then ran her hand up my thigh and across the bulge of my
erection. I saw a slight smile cross her lips when she determined my aroused
state. Using both hands she opened my robe and immediately bent forward and
began kissing the length of my rod. I realized she had resolved to try and
quickly satisfy me.
She left a trail of red lipstick on my cock. She lifted the stiffening organ
and kissed the root swirling her tongue around my testicles. She looked up at me
to see my reaction, then ran her tongue up to the crown. She engulfed the head
and began a slow but tight sucking.
She had become an accomplished little cocksucker and knew well how to play
me. I was aware of the fact that if left to her own devices she could have me
ejaculating in a short time.
I reached and grabbed two handfuls of her styled hair. It was stiff with hair
spray. Using this handhold I pushed her head down so my cock was forced down her
throat. She did not fight me but responded by relaxing her neck muscles. I moved
her head up and down enjoying the tight pressure. After a minute of this her
hand fluttered against my knee and then she gripped my leg. She made a muffled
protesting sound. I loosened my grip and her head came up. She gasped for
breath. Her eyes were running and smearing her mascara.
Demandingly I pushed my cock back against her lips. She looked up at me
blinking and opened her mouth. I let her catch her breath as she sucked.
"Who is your Master, Lisa?" I asked.
She was slowly bobbing her head with her eyes closed. A moment passed. Then
she looked up at me and her pursed lips came off my penis with a wet sound. She
answered, "You are."
I nodded and angled my cock back into her parted lips. I let her continue to
suck.
"Who owns you, Lisa?" I asked.
She did not look up this time. Her head came up and she addressed my cock.
"You do," she said simply.
I laid my head back and smiled. "Lisa," I looked at the ceiling. "I want you
to touch yourself. I want you to orgasm before I do."
She stopped sucking and I wondered if she would finally protest. But instead
she ran her arm down between my legs. She shifted herself and her skirt rustled.
She made several sawing motions as she slid her fingers under the top of her
panties. Her head had an almost imperceptible twist and I realized she had
stolen a glance at the clock. Her body began a rhythmic motion between my legs.
She was stroking herself. She dipped her head and began to lick my penis, and
then she took me in her mouth. She matched the bobbing of her head with her own
masturbation.
" And don't think you can fool me and fake it. I know you too well," I added.
She missed a beat, paused and then renewed her tasks. I ran my fingers
through her now tousled hair. "You are a good girl," I told her.
Using her talented tongue and a tight suction at the tip of my cock she had
me close in a matter of minutes. I gasped and raised my hips. She looked up at
me, arched her back and shuddered. She slowed her arm movements so she was just
touching herself, and then shuddered again. She pulled her mouth from my cock
and made a small cry. She trembled and laid her head on my lap pressing my cock
to my stomach. She caught her breath and immediately returned to my shaft in a
demanding fashion.
I relaxed myself and held my rising climax at bay.
"Do your self again Lisa," I told her.
Her eyes looked up at me through her bangs which now hung over her face. Her
hand was still between her thighs and she began slowly caressing herself.
I made her work for my orgasm. She began a slow very tight bobbing on my
penis, which was unbearably intense. Using her free hand she began a gentle
squeezing of my testicles. I closed my eyes and concentrated on riding the flow
of the pleasurable sensation.
It was like riding a roller coaster and when she tightened her lips on the
crown of my dick and began a rapid piston movement it took me over the top of
the ride.
"CUM now," I commanded her.
She was close also and made a sudden movement with her arm. My cock popped
free from her sucking mouth with a "pop" and she threw her head back. She gasped
and exhaled.
At the same moment I pushed her back and stood up so I towered above her.
"Your tits!" I barked. "I want to cum on your tits!"
She faltered for a second, still in the middle of her own climax, but then
arched forward holding my cock over her breasts. She squeezed me hard and pumped
me. I clasped her head in my hands and rose to my tiptoes. I came hard. I opened
my eyes and looked down and was awarded the sight of my ejaculation squirting
across the top of her up thrust mounds.
She continued to stroke me and I perceived she was using her hand to catch a
portion of the wildly squirting spunk and control the amount soiling her
clothes. "Rub it over those big titties," I told her.
She looked up at me. She made a slight exasperated noise and then proceeded
to rub my cock and her sperm filled hand across her bosom. Her warm skin felt
silken and smooth. I watched her smear the sperm until both full breasts
glistened with a frothy shine.
"Now lick Master clean Lisa," resignedly she bowed her head and licked the
still throbbing rod. She took it in her mouth to thoroughly tongue cleanse it.
"Who do you love Lisa?" I asked.
She looked up at me my cock protruding from her mouth. A glistening sheen
circled her lips. She blinked those huge brown eyes and lowered them. There was
a pause.
She pulled my cock from her mouth. Not looking at me she answered quietly. "I
love you... Master."
I turned to look at the clock. It was 12:30.
