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Every passer-by could
tell that the woman was nervous enough to jump out of her skin. The tension in her body, the rigidness of her
posture, the way her eyes darted to each tall form that came into her line of
sight, the flush on her face, the wringing of her hands--all spoke of nerves
stretched taut. Every woman knew that
she was waiting for the man who would change her life; every man wished that, somewhere, a woman was waiting for him with that same breathless
anticipation.
She drew in a deep breath
and took a sip of water to try to still the inner tremors. She closed her eyes in a futile attempt to
will herself calm. She silently scolded
herself, Stop it this instant, you silly bitch! She took herself into a quiet place in her
mind and the noise of the bar receded.
While her eyes were
closed, a tall man stepped up quietly behind her and placed a hand on her
shoulder. "At last, my little
one," he said, in that low voice that she knew so well from countless
phone conversations -- the voice that kept her going through the hell of
chemotherapy, the voice that had given her hope. The whole world, even her thoughts and
breath, seemed to stand still. She found
herself unable to open her eyes; her mouth was as dry as a desert wind and her
throat refused to release the breath she had drawn in at the first sound of his
voice and touch of his hand.
He chuckled deep in his
throat, "Breathe, little one, breathe, relax." At his words, the tension left her body and
she was able to exhale. His hand stroked
her hair, "Good girl."
He grasped her by the
shoulders and swiveled her bar stool to face Him, "Look at me, and say
hello, little one." She raised her
eyes as she said, "Hello little one."
She answered his warm laugher with an impish grin, and whispered,
"Hello, Sir."
He hugged her and
whispered to her , "Smart ass little subbie-- you'll pay for that
later." Her eyes darkened to near
emerald, "Is that a promise?"
His hand gripped her
upper arm firmly, helping her from the barstool, "Definitely. But for now let's get a table. I'm sure they have a booster seat for
you."
She had to tilt her
head back to give him a dirty look across the nearly 2 feet height gap,
"As long as they don't offer me the children's menu. . ."
He raised his eyebrows,
"Why on earth would you need a menu?
I'm ordering for you." With
that, he placed his hand on the small of her back and led her surely into the
dining room.
True to his word, once
they were seated she was not even presented a menu. He glanced at her over the top of his menu,
"How much did you weigh this morning?"
Her face flushed a
bright pink and she suddenly developed an intense interest in the pattern of
the silverware, "Ninety-two."
"Hmmmmm," was
his only response as he continued to study the menu. She sat with her hands neatly folded in her
lap as a server filled the water glasses.
She wished that she still had her long hair to fiddle with; she should
have at least worn her long wig -- but he had not given her permission for
that.
He gave the waiter their orders -- Pasta with rich sauces, bread, and a large
antipasto platter, in place of a salad.
He indicated a wine and the waiter went away.
"You haven't been
eating properly. Ninety-two? What was you last body fat percentage?"
Again she averted her
eyes and said, just above a whisper, "Seven."
He reached across the
table and, with two fingers, raised her
chin so their eyes met, "Kitt, you aren't caring for my property
properly. Do you want to have to send me
a food log every day?" The edge
she knew so well was in his voice.
"No, Sir. I'll do better, " she said, as she
blinked the tears away and sat up straighter.
She relaxed as she
heard the warmth come back into his voice, "I know that you will, my
little one."
"Because you say
so, Sir," was her whispered reply.
His blue eyes met her green ones,
"Of course."
The rest of the meal
was uneventful--filled with light chatter -- business, current events and a
million and one other inconsequential things.
The only awkward moment was when she tried to push her plate away before
he thought she had eaten enough. He
simply moved her plate back in front of her and continued speaking as though
nothing were amiss. She understood and
ate more of the richly-sauced pasta.
****************
She closed her eyes and
leaned her head back against the headrest of the passenger seat. The electricity in the car was palpable as he
drove toward her home-- the only coherent thought in her mind was Finally. She concentrated on slowing down her pulse
and breathing. His physical presence in
the small enclosed space was having a definite effect on her. Her nipples were straining at the silk shirt
and she knew the skirt was going to need a trip to the dry cleaners. At irregular intervals, he would reach over
and touch her somewhere innocuous--her forearm, her cheek, or the outside of
her thigh. Each touch felt like an
electric shock--making her nipples harder, her heart race, and the hair on the
back of her neck stand up. A small sigh
of disappointment escaped her lips each time he withdrew the contact.
The line was slow at
the tollbooth. With a bland expression
on his face, he calmly reached over and ran his hand along the back of her
neck. She purred and melted into the
contact as he inched the car forward.
Without warning, he slid his fingers up into the back of her hair and
curled them into a fist. "Cum, my
little slut. Cum for your Master,"
just as he pulled up to the tollbooth and tossed the coins with a wave to the
attendant.
Her cunt spasmed
immediately at his words, releasing a gush of her juices. Her muscles grew rigid as she trembled with
the strength of the orgasm that was rippling through her body. She bit back the loud moans so that only a
series of mewing sounds emerged. The
pungent aroma of female arousal wafted through the air. Her back arched, straining her nipples even
harder against the thin blouse she wore.
As the spasms subsided, he relaxed the fist in her hair and stroked her
hair and neck softly. "That's my
little one. Such a good girl," he
crooned as her body relaxed. "Thank
You, Master," she whispered breathlessly.
"The pleasure was
entirely mine, little one. I have waited
a long time to see that with my own eyes,"
he smiled as he watched her blush creep from her hairline to where it
disappeared under her blouse.
She closed her eyes and
leaned her head back and drifted into an almost-sleep. "Kitt, we're here," he
whispered. She opened her eyes, and saw
her house in front of her. Without
looking at him, she opened her handbag and pulled out a key chain with only one
key on it. The small sterling silver fob
was engraved with "Sir" on one side and a four digit code on the
other. She clutched it tightly in her
fist as she turned to meet his eyes-- with no break in eye contact, she turned
her fist over and opened it-- the key lying on her trembling, open palm, like an offering.
He picked up the key,
and brought her wrist to his lips in a brief kiss. "Thank You, little one. I am honored." He opened his car door
and stepped out--and extended his hand for her to slide across the seat and
follow him. With complete trust she
placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her from the car.
He used his key to
unlock the door to her house, and entered the four digit alarm code from the
fob on the key ring. Their eyes met as
he slipped the key into his pocket. Her
voice sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet house, "This is one door that
you can say you never had to knock on."
"Well then, give
me the fifty-cent tour," he said as he took her arm. They strolled through the house, pausing for
her to start Beethoven's 9th Symphony on the stereo. She showed him her home and the attached
office. They paused again in the kitchen
to open a bottle of red wine. She
invited him to the large French doors that led to the deck overlooking the
oasis she had created in her backyard.
Roses, honeysuckle vines, jasmine and tuberose all gave their scent to
the crisp night air.
"Make yourself at
home," she gestured to the chairs arranged around the outdoor
fireplace. They sat and sipped their
wine in companionable silence. When she
finished her glass, he reached over and ran a finger up the side of her neck,
and whispered in her ear, "You have five minutes to go to your bedroom,
strip down to your stockings and shoes
and wait for me."
She turned her head to
meet his eyes, "Yes Master."
She rose and walked slowly to the French doors, before she walked through
she turned to say, "i will await your pleasure, Sir."
In her bedroom, she
quickly removed her skirt and blouse and put them in the hampers. All that was left on her body was the white
garter belt, black stockings and gold shoes.
She glanced at herself in the mirror and smiled at her reflection. She was, at last, about to surrender her body
to the man who already owned her mind, heart and soul. A sense of calmness and rightness descended
on her. She steadied herself on her
high-heels, closed her eyes and waited for her Master's arrival.
The brief minutes that
she had to wait seemed like an eternity, but at last she heard his footsteps in
the hall, and then heard them cross the threshold to her room. She opened her eyes to see that he had
brought with him the small travel bag that he had taken from the car; he sat it down on the floor and walked to
stand in front of her.
His hand lifted her
chin to look sternly into her eyes. Her
body and soul quivered with pleasure at the edge of command in His voice,
"Unless given express permission, you are not to speak. Nod if you
understand this." She eagerly
nodded her head.
"Very good. Now, spread your legs and place your hands
behind your head. Stand up
straight!" A flicker of
appreciation gleamed in His eyes at her instant compliance.
He began to slowly
circle her body, touching her here and there:
a fingernail raked up her spine, fingertips circled lightly on her ass cheeks, her nipples were
rolled between thumb and forefinger. She
felt a sharp sense of loss each time a touch stopped, even as her body tensed
in anticipation, wondering where the next would land. Her breathing became labored; her heart
raced; her nipples tightened; her face flushed a dusky rose. Soft muffled whimpers came from her, as she
tightly pressed her lips together, knowing that she must not speak. Moisture was forming between her legs, and
she knew that He knew it.
His even, steady gaze
caused her to shudder as it noted each of her reactions to His every
touch. He was, she knew, learning her
responses, watching what made her body quiver and fires of raw need course
through her veins.
He placed His fingers
under her chin and looked deeply into her eyes; her lids dropped over the green
orbs as she trembled violently. Sure now
of His power in her mind, He pulled an armless chair to sit in front of
her. Without a word, he grasped her by
the waist and pulled her over his knees.
He smiled at the sharp intake of breath.
He savored her vulnerable position, devouring her with His eyes. He watched her quiver with anticipation,
noticing the subtle thrusting of her buttocks upward--the very invitation He
had been waiting for. CRACK!! His hand fell; she gave a small, muffled cry
but bore the blow without flinching.
CRACK--the other cheek this time.
Tears sprang to her eyes, as she bit down on her lower lip to keep
herself from crying out, "Thank You, Sir!" His hand rose and fell in quickening tempo;
her breathing became choked with hoarse sobs and moans. Moisture from her cunt seeped onto the leg of
His pants. He felt the sweat begin to
form beneath his hand on the small of her back.
He sensed the straining in her muscles as her slender body writhed on
His lap. "Give Me your left hand,
little one," He said as He reached
into the small bag beside the chair. He
pulled her hand behind her back.
"Now, the other hand, don't make Me wait." With her body precariously balanced over His
knees, He expertly secured her wrists together with the rough hemp rope He had
brought with Him. His hand curled into
her hair and pulled her to her feet as He rose from the chair. He gave her a brief moment to steady
herself on her feet before placing His hands behind His back. His eyes traveled up and down her body,
assessing His pet: tousled hair damp around the edges with sweat, emerald eyes
wide, pupils dilated, face flushed, lips slightly parted, nipples erect, light
sheen of sweat glistening on her almost translucent skin. "Yes," He murmured to himself,
"exactly as it should be."
She stood there before
him, the position of her bound arms thrusting her breasts forward, her entire
body tingling with the anticipation of what will come next. His gaze felt like a caress on her skin. A tiny
whimper slipped past her lips as he picked up the riding crop from the
table. "On your toes, little
one. Now," with that edge of
danger in His voice that so thrilled her.
Rising on her toes, she struggled to stay upright with her hands bound
behind her. The very tip of the crop fell
onto her ass, the sensation making her sway.
SSSSSSSSSWISH! The tip fell
again, the sharp sting blending into the first.
He brought the tip down onto her flesh harder and faster, again and
again, enjoying the tiny rivulets of sweat that trickled down the sides her neck
and the stripes that marked her ass.
Shifting slightly, He brought the crop down again--this time the full
length cut across her already inflamed cheeks.
Low moans and growls were coming from her throat. He stopped and noted her rigid posture, her every muscle straining
for release. "No, little one. Not yet--you will not cum until I tell
you. Nod if you understand Me." He watched her struggle to gain control over
the sensations in her body as she nodded her head. "Good girl," He said, as He watched
her muscles relax.
He watched her breasts
rise and fall as her breath came in gasps.
He noted the erectness of the nipples, the tiny gold rings that pierced
them. He wondered how many clothespins
He could fit on each one. Her body
hummed with anticipation as the tip of the crop moved back and forth across her
nipples. Waves of pleasure rippled
through her body as He toyed with the nipple rings with the tip of the
crop. With a quick flick of His wrist,
He landed the crop sharply across the top of her breasts, leaving a red stripe
just above her nipples. A sharp gasp of
"OH!" escaped her lips before she could bite it back. Her eyes went wider in terror and she pressed
her lips more tightly together, hoping He hadn't noticed. She knew those hopes were futile when He
stepped in front of her, and placed two fingers lightly under her chin,
"Did you say something, little one?"
His eyes had the cold fire of diamonds and his voice could cut granite with
a single word. She blinked tears from
her eyes and shook her head rapidly.
"Very good, I didn't think so, I should hate to be forced to punish
you so early. That wouldn't please Me at
all." She reveled in the bite of
raw power in His voice and realized that just the knowledge she had displeased
Him would hurt far worse than any punishment He could devise.
Her knees almost
buckled at the thought of how utterly she belonged to Him; she swayed on her
toes, nearly falling forward. One of
His large, strong hands pressed to her breastbone held her upright. The contact of His skin sent ripples of
warmth throughout her body, as though it gave off a low-level electrical
charge. She felt an intense longing to
lean just a bit more into this contact--a longing quickly quenched by the
awareness that He had not given permission for this. With a quavering exhalation, she was able to
steady herself on her toes once more.
The stab of loss she felt when He removed His hand was replaced by a
warm glow of pleasure and pride, as he leaned close to her ear and whispered,
"Such a good girl."
His hot breath on her
neck made columns of summer lightning dance in her head. She battled with an almost overwhelming
desire to lean her body into His strength.
She sternly reminded herself of her purpose -- to serve His needs,
fulfill His desires. When He wanted her
body pressed to His, He would put it there.
Consciously, she willed herself to stand straighter and vowed not to
disappoint Him by disobedience.
As if he could read her
thoughts, he stared deeply into her eyes, "Excellent decision, little
one." The warmth in His eyes felt
like a badge of honor to her. Her mind
was reeling; how had she become so quickly addicted to His praise and approval?
He placed the tip of
the crop at the hollow at the base of her throat and dragged it lightly and
slowly downward, toward the juncture of her thighs, where her juices were
flowing freely. When the tip of the crop
was a fraction of an inch from her slit, He changed direction and began a slow
ascent. A tiny whimper escaped her
throat, but she steeled herself to remain motionless as the crop made its
upward journey.
The crop touched her
chin, "Are you wet, little one? Are
you dripping?" She opened her mouth
to speak, saw His eyebrows arch upward, and remembered His prohibition. She nodded her head, instead. He chuckled, "Very good, little one
knows that being asked a question does not imply permission to speak. Such a wise, good girl." She released a tremulous sigh, knowing that
she had just passed a test. The tears
of relief made her eyes sparkle and threatened to spill down her cheeks.
She was confused; i
don't fucking cry she thought, but he has had me on the verge of tears
twice in one evening. He bent his
tall frame over hers and brushed a light kiss on her forehead, "You please
me very much, little one."
Those words were her
undoing; the tears began to fall in earnest now, sliding down her cheeks and
falling onto her breasts. He curled
one hand into a fist in her hair and whispered roughly in her ear, "Who do
you belong to? You may speak now."
She gasped out, "i
belong to You, Master."
"Yes," he
growled into her ear, "All Mine, My little one, all of you belongs to
Me." Her knees buckled at these
words; with one hand still curled into
her hair and the other on the small of her back, he supported her until her
legs steadied. When she could stand
alone, he whispered, "Show Me."
She tilted her head
back to look into his eyes and took three steps backward. Without breaking eye contact, she sank to her
knees and leaned forward, placing her forehead on the toe of his right
shoe. He could clearly see the
characters tattooed on the back of her neck--the ones that meant
"slave" in Mandarin. With the
tip of the crop, He traced the shapes and watched as a line of chill bumps
traveled up her spine. He savored the
sight of her there--kneeling at His feet, surrendering herself completely to
Him--His to do with as he wished. The
thrill of power surged through his body.
"On your knees, little one," he ordered.
She complied instantly,
rising gracefully from her prostrate position.
She sat perfectly straight and still, knees wide apart.
He smoothed her hair and murmured, "Such a good girl," just as
the crop landed across the tops of her breasts a finger's width from her
nipples. She gasped, but did not
flinch.
SSSSSSSSSSWISH!! The crop cut through the air again and
landed a diagonal stripe across her back; she felt her core becoming moister as
the light sheen of sweat on her skin seeped into the welt -- deepening the
sting and the pleasure. He paced around
her, wielding the crop on whatever part of her body he chose -- her breasts,
nipples, back, the tops of her buttocks, her inner thighs all fell victim to
the skillfully applied wand of leather.
Her breasts heaved as her breathing quickened; her face flushed as
stripes from his lashing criss-crossed her skin. Soft whimpers and moans came from her
slightly parted lips, but she did not flinch or cry out; she bore the hail of
blows as still as a statue. Only the
glow in her ever darkening eyes betrayed the heat rising in her.
The cutting of the air
with the crop paused as he stepped in front of her, with the tip of the crop he
toyed with the rings in her nipples and clit.
He slid the tip of the crop between her folds. She gasped and trembled sightly as he
withdrew it, brushing it across her clit on the way, and spread the juices onto
her lips.
He savored the sight of
the red welts on her pale skin and watched as the tip of her tongue darted out
to taste her juices off the tip of the crop.
He chuckled, "Such a greedy little one she is." After he had taken the crop from her lips, he
watched as her tongue snaked out and licked off the juices he had put
there. His eyes darkened as he chuckled,
"Look at me, little one."
She raised her eyes to
meet his. The glacial coldness in his
steely blue eyes warmed as they met her wide passion-darkened green ones,
"Ask what you want to ask now, pet.
You may speak."
She drew in a tremulous
breath and swallowed rapidly, "Please, Sir, how may i pleasure You? Will You allow me to worship You with my
mouth?" She quivered at the low growl
in the back of his throat.
"In a bit, little
one, i will take my pleasure with you.
There are certain. . . formalities to be tended to first."
Her eyes went wide--
overflowing with questions. He returned
her look with a bland stare, "Stand up, walk to the bed and lie down on
your back, legs spread."
She rose as gracefully
as she could with her hands bound behind her and settled herself on the bed as
she had been instructed. He watched her
movements with as she lay back with her eyes closed, her bound arms under her,
thrusting her breasts upward. Her mind
raced over every moment of the evening, had she done something to displease
him? He approached the bed with a box
in his hand, "Feet flat on the bed spread wide." She complied immediately, eyes closed. She heard the clasps of the box opening,
suddenly his hand was on her right nipple, toying with the ring there, "I
did not put this here." There was a
brief tug at the ring before she heard the snick of the wire being cut
and felt the wire being pulled from the hole it had been in for so many
years. The emptiness lasted only seconds
as he threaded another wire into the hole.
She opened her eyes to see him holding a battery operated soldering
iron. "Be very still, pet, these
things can make nasty burns." His
eyes reassured that he would not damage her in any way. She closed her eyes trustingly; she felt no apprehension at all as she felt
the warmth of the instrument near her nipple.
He closed the ring that HE had put there. She breathed deeply in complete trust as his
hands efficiently repeated the procedure on her left breast.
He picked up the small
tool kit and walked to the end of the bed to stand and look at her -- hair damp
with sweat, red stripes crisscrossed her body, eyes closed in perfect
trust. With no warning, he raked his
nails over the red welts on her inner thigh.
She gave a small surprised cry as her eyes flew open and the moisture on
her gaping lips increased.
"Now that I have
your undivided attention. . ." he said as he grasped the ring in her
throbbing clit. The snick of the
wire being cut was again heard; he removed the cut wire and rapidly threaded
another through her purple flesh. She
bit on her lower lip to keep from writhing as he handled her most sensitive
part. The warmth of the soldering iron
near her tender core was maddening; her inner walls spasmed as she fought back
the urge to rock her hips. She heard the
clasps of the box close, suddenly his hand was behind her neck pushing her to a
sitting position and moving her to the edge of the bed. "Stand up, My little one."
She rose unsteadily
onto her feet; he wrapped his arms around her.
With one hand he grasped her bound wrists, while the other hand curled
into her sweat-matted hair, pulling her head back. He bent his tall frame to kiss her softly,
almost tentatively at first. Her lips
parted under his and the intensity of the kiss increased. He probed her mouth with his tongue, taking
possession inch by inch. She swayed on
her heels; her senses were reeling.
Suddenly his mouth left hers. He
stepped to the travel bag and took out a velvet pouch and walked back to the
chair and sat down. Her eyes followed
his movements.
His eyes warmed as he
smiled at her, "You have indeed pleased me, pet." He gestured to the floor near his feet,
"Kneel here, little one. Only one
more bit of business to clear up."
She walked slowly to
the spot he had indicated. She gazed
deeply into his eyes as she sunk to her knees.
He pulled from the pouch an intricately-linked chain of highly polished
surgical steel and a heart shaped lock. He turned the lock in his hand to show
her the one word engraved on it-- MINE. She drew in her breath as the light sparkled
on the metal. Her mouth was dry, but
tears sprang to her eyes.
"Do you want to
wear this, little one? Do you need it,
do you crave it in the depths of your soul?" he asked, his blue eyes never
leaving hers. Tears trickled down her
cheeks as she nodded her head; she hoped that he knew speech was beyond her at
this point.
Her breath came in
ragged gasps as he leaned forward with the gleaming chain in his hands. She closed her eyes as the tears coursed down
her face; she gasped as the weight of the chain settled on her neck. The weight increased only slightly as she
heard the click of the lock closing and its coldness settling into the hollow
of her throat. Her body shuddered
violently with a passionate desire to serve this man.
His voice rang sharply
in the quiet room, "Look at me, pet."
She opened her eyes and felt his gaze brush her very soul. His voice was quieter now, "Who do you
belong to?"
She managed to choke
out through her dry mouth and sobs in a barely audible whisper, "i belong
to You, Master."
His eyes grew steely,
"Yes, all mine, my toy, my slut, my fuckdoll, for my pleasure, my
amusement. My little one." Her shudders increased with every word until
she was trembling violently.
His hand curled into
her hair, gripping roughly, bruising the scalp; he pulled her to her feet and
walked her to the back of the chair, her toes barely touching the ground. Moving his hand to the back of her neck, he
bent her forward over the back of the chair.
"Stay," was his harsh command.
He quickly unfastened his trousers to release his throbbing erection. He paused a moment to drink in the sight of
her there--back and buttocks striped with red welts -- his hardness throbbed as
he looked and knew he could do anything he wished to her willing body. Inflamed by this thought, he plunged into her
dripping slit, pounding mercilessly.
She cried out as his
thrusts drove into her, possessing her body with a surety that filled her with
ecstasy. Her mind was reeling from the
sensation of being claimed, being owned.
As if he could read her thoughts, he began to whisper, "Yes, Mine,
all mine, mine to fuck, mine to torture, mine to tease, mine to use. However and whenever and wherever i
choose. My little slut, my toy, my
slave, my property."
His words caused her
inner walls to spasm around him and her juices to increase their heated
flow. All her muscles tightened as strangled cries emerged from
deep in her throat. She could feel him
throbbing and growing inside her as her whole body cried for release.
His thrust became more
brutal as his sac tightened. He barked
out, "Cum, slut, now.
Cum!" At the same
instant he exploded; her body writhed and convulsed with the ripples of climax
that overtook all her senses. A scream
from the pit of her soul mingled with his howl of release as he emptied his
seed into her. For interminable moments,
nothing existed but the quivering pulsations of their pleasure.
As the world came
flowing back around them, he reached up and released the bonds on her wrist and
stroked the rope marks there. He pulled
out of her and helped her to stand up.
When her knees nearly gave way, he swept her into his arms and carried
her to the bed and gently laid her there.
Quickly, he removed his clothes, and lay down beside her. Tears were soundlessly falling down her
cheeks. He brushed them away with tender
lips, "Sleep now, My little one.
You please me. You are mine. Sleep, little love. Tomorrow the adventures begin." He cradled her in his arms as her body
relaxed into slumber, a soft smile on her tearstained face.