A Life With Ariel

The limousines pulled up to the large gated home at exactly the proper time. Soon, the guests, five men and five women, were filing in through the door and taking note of the immaculate and well-furnished interior.

The greetings were cheerful amongst the old friends. They had not seen each other in nearly five years and they were all grateful that their host and seen fit to invite them all at the same time.

"How the Hell are you guys?" Paul asked them. And then, one by one, he embraced them all in a warm hug.

"Jimmy, Rog, Terrance, Billy, Johnny, I want you all to come on in and make yourselves at home." He motioned up the stairwell, pointing. "Your rooms are upstairs, you can't miss them. I took the time to put name tags on the doors and to accommodate the rooms for your own special interests." he said.

"Anyhow, I want you all to go on upstairs and get ready for dinner." he continued on. "My girl has cooked an incredible dinner and should be ready to serve it in about thirty minutes. So, come on down, bring your slaves or leave them, and let's have some fun."

All were smiling ear to ear, chatting amongst themselves as they ascended the stairwell. As for their host, he was so excited at seeing his friends that he could hardly contain himself.

Ariel was bringing dinner to the table as the guests, slaves following behind them, began filing downstairs. As each of them saw her they gasped.

She was naked and stood a mere five feet four inches tall. Her black hair hung clear to her waist and her largish breasts heaved with her graceful dancer-like movements. And though she was barefoot, she moved on the tips of her toes as if a ballerina. Her shapely legs, smooth and muscular, seemed almost too long for a woman of her height.

Despite her obvious physical beauty, the most interesting and seductive aspect of her was the stripes that crossed her body as if she were a tiger. In fact, virtually every aspect of her body was tinged with the subtle tiger stripes. Her ears, too, appeared to be shaped and marked as a tigers might be. And when the light caught her face just right, the subtle markings were apparent.

None could take their eyes of off her, despite the fact that they all had brought their own slaves, all of them sleek and lovely. And they watched her every movement, stunned and awed at the creature that belonged to their friend.

As they took their seats, slaves kneeling beside them, their host made his entrance. He greeted them all warmly, re-acquainting himself with each of them and bidding them each to tell their stories over the last several years.

As the night wore on they laughed and chided each other, each sharing their life stories with one another. But, through it all, each was awaiting the moment when Paul would tell his story and how he came to possess the beautiful creature that knelt, lovingly, next to him.

"It's too long!" he told them, proudly embarrassed at their compliments of his prize. "You guys don't want to know the entire story about us. It would take all damned night."

Still, they harangued him; "Come on Pauly!" hollered one of the guests. And soon, despite his protests and with the wine beginning to set in, they began their chant "Pauly! Pauly!"

Finally, he relented. "All right, all right!" he said, laughing. "I'll tell you. But, I am warning you...this will take all night!"

Roger spoke up, yelling "Yeah, and don't leave out any of the important details out!" And then they all chimed in with chants affirming their want for the tawdry and graphic details.

"I swear, you guys, this is like a damned frat party. When will you middle-aged sons-of bitches grow up?" hollered Paul, laughing and enjoying the old camaraderie of the group.

The chants of "Pauly! Pauly!" began anew, abating only when he hunkered down on his couch to tell the story of how he began his life with Ariel.

* * * * *

I met her about 1986, down on the Sunset Strip. At the time I was in my third year of business school and we were out for Spring break. I was taking full advantage of my time off and spending my time out and about until the wee hours of the morning.

I was dressed in my usual get up, black jeans, black boots, black gloves and a long black riding coat. It wasn't just an affectation, as it is for most, and I wasn't some "hesher" or "goth" type. I was a biker.

I was sitting in a small cafe when I met her. She caught my eye as soon as she entered. She was wearing a short coat and a casually tight blouse that accented her breasts. Her black skirt ended mid-thigh and showed off her long dancers legs.

She was not tall, though her slim athletic build, combined with her high heels, gave her the appearance of being much taller. She had a soft face, Asian appearing, though not entirely so. Her hair was shoulder length and Stygian black. Her incredibly slim waist led to rolling hips and then to those wonderful legs, which were accented by even more shapely calves.

After taking note of her, I decided that it was about time to leave the cafe. As fate would have it, she saw me and, apparently, liked what she saw. For, as I was about to gather myself, she approached my table, sat down and struck up a conversation.

We had quite a lengthy conversation, during which I discovered the truth to her amazing genetics; She was half Chinese and half Swedish. Very soon, we were exchanging numbers and making plans to go out the following week. However, as she made to leave, she noticed that her friends had already left, forgetting her.

Being the gentleman that I am, I offered her a ride. A few minutes later, we were on my motorcycle, heading for her home in the Hollywood hills.

Upon arrival to her home, I discovered that she was quite well to do. It seems that her parents had left her a tidy sum of money at their passing. She was the wealthiest eighteen-year-old person that knew and she was very interested in what I had to offer. So, what was I to do when she invited me inside? Of course, I came inside.

I entered her home to find that it was as large inside as it had looked from the outside. She offered me a seat on her sofa and was off to the kitchen, offering several different drink options. I opted for my staple drink - gin and tonic with a twist.

As the night progressed, we found that we had many mutual interests. Music, art and politics and a mutual distaste for religion were among many of the topics discussed. On top of it all, we enjoyed each other's humor and had a very strong mutual attraction.

Almost before I knew what was happening, we were locked in an embrace or powerful proportions. Our lips sought out each other's and we were soon locked in a deep, wet kiss. Immediately, I found that we were hungrier for each other than I had thought. We were rough and violent, rolling from the sofa to the floor and then across it.

My hands found their way down her body to push under her skirt, even as her nails dug into my chest and our mouths and tongues sought the taste of the others sweat.

Everything was a blur, the room spinning about as we rolled and tossed each other across the floor. Her hair was all over me, draping across my face and then my chest. Somehow, we were naked and in freefall, two eagles engaged in a fierce mating ritual. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

An hour or so later, as I began to dress, I cringed, my back and chest burning. Looking down, I noticed that my chest had been raked with her fingernails. After further inspection, I found that my back had suffered from similar wounds.

Wondering how I could have missed her raking fingernails, I looked to the woman who was responsible for the pain that I was now suffering. She was lying naked on the floor, amidst a mess of fallen chairs and other odds and ends, marred with similar signs of our struggle for pleasure.

After a short moment of amazement at what we had wrought, I continued to dress myself. She was still naked when we stood in her doorway saying our goodnights and embracing in a farewell kiss.

As it turned out, it was to be our most "normal" night together. For, as our relationship progressed, things became a bit "different". And I experienced more new and pleasurable things with her, than I would with any other woman that I would ever encounter.

Understand that, at the time, I had only been with about two women. I was not the outgoing type of guy who picks up women and randomly has sex with them. I was more interested in my studies and my motorcycle and had little time for women. So, it was quite an invigorating experience for me.

My motorcycle growled to life at the push of a button and I pulled away, thoughts of her still filling my head. To say that I was enamored with her would be an understatement.

The next day, I received a call from Ariel while I was at work. She was calling to thank me for taking her home that previous night. The next thing I knew, we had a date for the following Friday night.

Later that night, as I lay in bed, I masturbated, jerking myself to the memory of the previous night. Truth be told, I didn't really remember much about it, which I found strange. In fact, the only real remembrance of our sexual encounter was the intense passion and that my orgasm had been more powerful than I had ever had previously.

For the most of the rest of the week I chased the dragon, hoping to bring myself as powerful an orgasm as I had encountered with her. By Thursday, I realized would never be able to do so. Without that passion and heat that I had experienced with Ariel, I realized that I would never achieve an orgasm that powerful.

By the time Friday arrived, I was ready to bust. The mere thought of her touching me brought my cock to life and I began to wonder if I should possibly relieve myself. I was more than fearful of the anticipation I was feeling bringing the night to an early and embarrassing end. So, before I left to pick her up, I relieved myself of my terrible urge. Still, I was afraid of my anticipation.

Upon my arrival to her home, she invited me in. Then she informed me that we did not need to go out as she had decided to show off her culinary skills. It was not disappointing and I had rarely enjoyed food so good as what she prepared that night.

Again, that night, we found ourselves naked and in each other's arms, flailing across her spacious living room. Unlike our first encounter, however, she headed off our impending battle and led me into her room.

Her bed was huge and the frame antiquated and solid of frame. There were small holes in the large headboard and footboard of the bed. It actually appeared as if it were a giant baby bed except that there were no sides.

She slid into bed, on top of the comforter and reached out her hand to me. For the first time, I saw her naked body in its entirety. How I had not seen it before seemed a mystery to me.

For a long moment, I stood still. I was admiring her body. The fall of her hair across her breasts and the soft curve and shape of her body struck me in a manner that I had not known before. I could not concentrate on one body part or another as I had other women. Instead, I felt compelled to take her in whole, as if she were a piece of living art.

Again, she beckoned to me, as if I were a beast; dumb and slow of wit. And, as if I were, in fact, some beast, I came to her, wrapping myself in her aura.

We fell to the bed, embraced in a passion filled kiss. Our hands found each other's, clutching each other as if in a death grip. Then, I pulled back from our kiss to stare into her green eyes.

My cock found entrance to her sex and her long legs wrapped around me. For long and long we did not move; instead, we stared into each other, my cock hard and unyielding inside of her.

Her sex, wet and warm, enveloped me, squeezed me tightly. And then, I felt it building inside of me. I tried to hold it back but she would not allow it. Suddenly, I filled her with my juices. Exploding, I screamed out, still unable to move, her powerful legs holding me to her. And then, I collapsed on her body, our hands still tightly clasped.

Hours later, we awoke. She was in my arms and I in hers. I felt myself begin to harden almost immediately. She stirred as my cock stiffened, grinning at me as she felt it begin its ascent to full hardness.

It was then that I found the reason for the holes in her bed. Moments after I began to initiate lovemaking she stopped me and told me the secret of her head and footboards. They were stocks. And she wanted me to use them on her.

I was a bit shocked, never having experienced any sort of bondage or want for it. Still, I was aroused by her request and found myself looking forward to the experience.

In short order, her wrists had been imprisoned in the holes near the mattress and her ankles were, likewise, imprisoned in the holes over her wrists. In short, she was doubled over, her ass up in the air.

It was then that it dawned on me that she was entirely helpless. The stocks had been locked down so that she could not hope to escape without my aid. Too, she could not stop me from doing anything at all and that, had I been some sort of deviant, I could abuse her in horrifying ways. And then, I realized that my thoughts had further aroused me.

Standing over her, I looked down at her helplessness, my cock hard and dripping. She looked up to me, smiling and telling me that I was hers to take in any manner that I wished, no matter how terrible.

Suddenly, I knew myself! I had not before. But now, standing over her, my power from the moment flooded me with excitement and I felt myself filled with ideas that I had only heard of or read in pornographic media but had always thought ridiculous wishing on the part of the author.

"One request." I heard her say. "Pain and suffering."

I jumped at her words, my hands moving as if of their own volition. I was spanking her ass and thighs. Then I was leaning down over her, pinching and pulling her nipples, my cock dripping in anticipation of what was to come.

Her moans and screams drove me on as my cock found her pussy and I began fucking her hard and rough. But I was not satisfied. I wanted to fulfill her request, to give her pain and to make her suffer.

I had never felt such passion as I felt at that moment. My need to grant her wish of pain and suffering was strange to me. Still, I did not fight it.

Almost without thought, I pulled out of her pussy and began pushing into her ass. She was nearly dry but my cock was covered in our own mix of juices. I slid into her ass, never guessing or caring at the pain I was causing her and reveling in her cries for mercy.

And then I was pounding into her ass, my hands spreading her ass wide, my eyes hypnotized by the expression of pain on her face. She was screaming at me, begging me to stop. I kept on, filled with the power of her suffering through the assault.

And then, as I had earlier, I felt my orgasm build. I wanted to slow it or to stop my thrusts. I wanted to prolong my pleasure and to make her suffer more. But, I was not in control. I jerked spasmodically, shooting cum into her ass, groaning and shouting words in strange tongues.

I must have released her, though I never remembered doing so. But, she was now in my arms; her back to mine, crying and thanking me for making her suffer.

For long and long we lay, talking. She told me that had been her first experience with anal sex. She had always wanted to explore it before but had never been able to vocalize it. Neither had she managed to entice her former lovers into taking her ass.

And after further conversation, she admitted to me that it had been the most painful experience that she had ever suffered through and that she wanted more.

As for me, I had never had such an experience before. Quite honestly, I had always thought of ass fucking and bondage as a homosexual act. I will say that, at that moment, I was entirely confused as to what and who I was. At the moment, however, I don't think I cared. And slowly, our conversation drifted into silence and then to sleep.

The sun shone through the lace curtains of her room. It was early morning. We had not moved the entire night, sleeping the entire night as if puzzle pieces fit together.

We both took our turns using the bathroom. And when she left the bed I got my first real glimpse of her round bottom and well-muscled back. How anyone could have such a marvelously proportioned body was beyond my imagining. How I could end up in bed with her was an even bigger mystery to me.

She came back into the room and bounded onto the bed. She stood over me, her legs on either side of my waist. It was then that I noticed that her sex was bereft of hair. Oddly, I had never been attracted to that part of a woman. I had heard other men speaking of that part of a woman as if it was attractive, but I never found it so. Still, I couldn't help but stare at the lovely cleft that was exposed above me.

My daze was broken when she asked if I enjoyed taking her so roughly. I affirmed that I had enjoyed it more than I had enjoyed anything that I had ever done.

She smiled and started crying. She had been fearful that her needs and her abrupt and energetic passion would chase me from her. Her past lovers, it became apparent, had not found her needs so easy to accept. They found her aggression and wants for kink to be off-putting. Worse yet, she had been told that her want for anal sex was immoral and unnatural.

Naturally, I assured her that I had no such troubles with her aggression or her kinks. True, it did seem odd to me, but not immoral or unnatural.

After a long moment of silence, I pushed her from my chest and rolled over on top of her. My cock was hard and I wanted to take her again. This time, I did not restrain her or wait for her acquiescence. Instead, I pushed her legs up and against her chest, positioned my cock at her rear entrance and pushed in.

She screamed in pain as my cock slid inside her ass. A chill went down my spine as her scream penetrated my brain and I wondered, for a moment, if it was too much for her to take. I did not, however, slow my assault. Then I was thrusting into her, hard and fast.

Her hands grasped my back, her nails pushing into me. The pain pushed me on, determined to give her more pain than she could give me. My thrusts became harder and more brutal. Still, she screamed.

Now her hands slid to my ass and she grabbed each cheek, digging in her nails. I thrust harder and harder, each thrust providing her more pain and exciting me. She begged me to stop. The pain was too much and she could not take it. I ignored her pleas, thrusting as hard as I could.

I felt my orgasm building from deep within me. And then, with one final thrust, I grunted as if I were an animal. Then the orgasm took full hold of me and I filled her insides with cum. Spent, I collapsed on top of her.

Again, we slept. And when I woke, I realized that we had not moved. I was still on top of her. Her legs were under me and pressed to her chest. As I lifted myself up off of her, she woke and smiled at me, never moving until I pulled her legs down from her chest.

Then, she told me what I already knew without realizing it. She wanted me to control her and command her life. She wanted me to bring her pain and suffering. She wanted me to show her no mercy, even when she begged for it.

I had thought, from time to time, that having a woman of her sort, compliant and willing to do anything I wished, would be a dream come true. Still, I had never imagined that I would ever find one. Somehow, I had. And she was more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.

To say that I was thrilled by her words was an understatement. To say that I understood the full crux of what that meant would be a gross misstatement. And I would, later, discover just how difficult it would be to be in command of a woman of her nature.

End Part 1

Sometime over the next few weeks we had agreed that we were a couple. Almost every night I would head over to her house, where I would spend the majority of my evening. Most times I would spend the night.

Binding her in stocks and taking her ass in brutal fashion became the norm for me. We did make love in gentle fashion, from time to time. However, neither of us was left with complete satisfaction. We always followed up our gentle love making with a rough session of bondage and anal sex.

After several months of being a couple, we found that the same activities, night after night, had left us in a rut. Man does not live by bread alone, after all. Unfortunately, I was not experienced in the ways of BDSM and neither was she, really.

True, she had her kinks and knew what she wanted, for the most part. However, that is a far cry from the knowledge of experience. So, unable to answer our own questions of how to enliven things, we sallied forth into the great unknown.

We were at a sex shop in Studio City when we discovered a nifty little device. It was an inflatable butt plug that she wanted badly. Of course, I bought it.

As soon as we got into her car we decided to utilize our new toy. Fortunately, it was night and the windows on her car were mildly tinted. No sooner had we closed the car doors than she bent over the seat and lifted her skirt and revealed her naked bottom.

After a brief moment of mild shock, I pulled the plug from its packaging. Then, after having her suck the plug for a moment, I slid it in her ass. Once it was inserted to its proper depth, I attached the pump's hose to the valve on the plug and inflated it.

It was near to half capacity when I was stopped pumping. I had thought to inflate it more but her moans were not the moans of a woman feeling pleasure. Frankly, I was fearful that inflating it more tear her ass wide-open. So, rather than see how much she could take, I desisted my pumping, pulled the air hose from the valve and had her turn around and sit down.

Tears were running from her eyes and she was a bit ginger when she took her seat. Still she endured, smiling the smile of someone torn between emotions.

After fumbling a bit, she managed to insert the car's key into the ignition switch and bring the car to life. After only a block of driving she pulled over, insisting I drive. It seems that she was unable to concentrate well enough to command the vehicle safely.

The drive home was interesting, to say the least. Every little bump or pot hole provided her with sensations that brought groans and guttural outburst from her lips. I was never quite certain if those noises were from pain, pleasure or both. I was, however, certain of my intense arousal.

About thirty minutes later, we arrived at her home. By this time, her breathing was shallow and she was leaning against the car door, eyes closed. She did not move, nor did she seem likely to.

I exited the car and went to her side to open her door. Wary of her condition, I was ready to catch her when she began to fall out of the car. She grabbed hold of me, her hands clutching my arm, and begged me not to let her fall. Such was her predicament that she could hardly walk. Consequently, most of her weight was placed in the safety of my care.

The walk to her doorstep was a slow one. Each small step was made with great strain and with much panting. By the time we reached her door she was shaking, fighting to keep her legs.

After unlocking the front door I swept her into my arms, carrying her across the threshold. Then I took her to her room and sat her on her bed. She remained in a seated position just long enough for me to remove my arms from around. Then she flopped back to lie on her back. eyes closed and with tears streaking down her face.

I was a bit unsure of what she was experiencing. I had no real understanding of the pleasure/pain principles of BDSM. In fact, I had no idea how much pain or pleasure was enough or too much. All I knew was that I was excited and worried, all at once.

I sat beside her, stroking her cheek and wiping the tears from her eyes. I felt as if I should do or say something. Furthermore, I was feeling a bit guilty at being so aroused at her discomfort.

"Are you all right?" I asked her, wondering if I should deflate the plug and remove it.

Her eyes fluttered open and focused on me. A small smile crossed her face. A moment later her eyes closed and the smile vanished.

"I need to cum and I can't," she whispered, in a high and delicate voice. "It's too much. I can't cum this way but I need to...I need the plug out so I can cum."

It was then that I realized that one could suffer from pleasure. And then, something clicked. Suddenly, I knew what I would do and I knew that she would suffer for it.

As I reached underneath her, to position her in the middle of the bed, I began to wonder if I would feel the plug when I fucked her. Surely I would. The plug had already stretched her sphincter to the size of a silver dollar, after all.

She was positioned in the center of the bed, legs spread. I sat beside her for a moment, stroking her hair and taking in the moment. Then I lifted her skirt to reveal the nakedness beneath.

She was moaning and whispering words to me as I began to move into position, between her legs. I knew not what she was speaking of. I did not care, really. All I knew that I wanted to take her as she was.

Finally, when I was kneeling between the legs that I had spread, I told her that I was going to fuck her.

The words that escaped her lips meant little to me. I wanted this and I was going to have it. And after pulling off my pants, I slipped down on top of her. She moaned as I began moving up and down against her. Then, after an eternity, my cock slid into her and over the bulge that pressed against my cock.

Slow long strokes turned to fast hard strokes. Gentle caresses turned to rough mauling. I was fucking her as hard as I could, as a dog might fuck his mate.

I stopped, abruptly to stare into her eyes. They were lifeless and empty. Her breath was stifled and low and her voice a thin rasp. She was helpless, her body betraying her and laying waste to any self-control.

Again, I started fucking her. Her blouse had been ripped off by now. I don't know when. I didn't remember doing it. But for her skirt and a few scraps of bra and blouse, she was naked.

I felt that familiar rise of pressure and the beginnings of the wave that would be my orgasm. But it was too soon. I was not ready to give up this feeling. I wanted it to last, never having experienced what I was now experiencing.

I stopped thrusting, remaining inside of her. I was panting and sweating, praying that the wave of pleasure would subside.

Her whispers began anew. She pleaded with me to pull the plug from her ass that she might be able to cum. Her words excited me and brought me close to climax. I refused to allow it. I was not ready. I had no desire to give up on this moment. I was unwilling to surrender this newfound power as bringer of this uncommon suffering.

Finally the wave receded and I began again. I was thrusting into her. My cock sliding over the swell of the plug thrilled me, as did her thin pleading cries for release.

The wave built again. This time I did not stop. I was ready. And then I shot my first fiery load of cum into her. I was growling, firing salvos of cum into her, my back arched as I came. And then, it was over.

When I awoke I was still on top of her. I lifted my head to see her, still awake, tears still falling from the corners of her dead eyes.

I kissed her lips. She did not kiss back. And, when I pushed myself from her body, she did not move. The only sign of life, other than tears, was her shallow breathing and the occasional blinking of her eyes.

I ran my hand across her body and watched goose bumps run across her body. Her breath became stuttered, slightly, and I knew that she had had enough. It was time to release her from her suffering.

Slipping off the bed, I reached down to retrieve my jeans. I searched the pockets until I found the means to her release; a small key. Then I reached down and spread the cheeks of her ass to attach it to the valve that protruded from the plug. A moment later the air in the plug was released with a whoosh.

She stiffened as I pulled the plug from her ass. Her feet bent up and her hands clenched in a fist, nails biting into her palms. Her back arched up off of the bed as her eyes closed tightly, screwing up her face as if in the throes of a painful and terrible death. Then the scream let forth from her, a terrible wail of pain and pleasure.

Several minutes later, after her orgasm had passed, she closed her eyes and fell sound asleep. I leaned down and kissed her forehead. Then, I pulled the covers over her to the release of sleep.

I was sitting on the couch, watching television when she came out of the bedroom. She was naked and bore the look of exhaustion. Still, she was beautiful. In a moment, and on shaky legs, she came to curl up beside me, her head in my lap.

Over the next month, we fucked constantly. It was always a rough and tumble affair and I always made certain to cause her pain. Sometimes I would bind her to her bed and other times I would not. And there were, of course, occasions when I would make her suffer the torment of using the plug.

On the rare occasion that we did not fool around at her house, we usually did so in precarious positions and places. Most often, we would find ourselves on a darkened road in the middle of the night.

After exiting the car I would bend her over, hands on the ground with her ass in the air. Then I would take her ass in brutal fashion. Sometimes she would cum and other times she would not. It did not seem to matter to her, so long as she could suffer and was taken with force.

To say that I was having the time of my life would be an understatement. Women like this do not materialize into a person's life on a daily basis. Hell, they hardly ever materialize over a lifetime. But, she had materialized in my life. And I was enjoying her as best I could.

We had been together for about a year when things began to get a bit tense. We had spent virtually all of our free time together, fucking. Her appetite for sex was insatiable. And, while I enjoyed her appetites, I could not compete or keep up.

Also, I had begun to miss hanging out with friends, my studies were suffering and my grades had been falling far short of my expectations. When I attempted to slow things down and spend some time away from her she would not hear of it. She had enough money for us both. She could support us both, for the rest of our lives, so there was no need for me to finish college. Sadly, I was far from being in agreement with her.

And so, after many fights, break ups, reconciliation's and nights on the phone, we called it quits. Or, I should say, I called it quits. I needed to finish school and I would not be able to do so with her demands. It was a sad day for me. But, I knew it was necessary if I was to achieve my goals.

For the next several months she called me, periodically. Every time she called she would beg to get back together. Every time she called I would tell her to leave me be. My mantra to her, during these calls, was the lie that I didn't love her as she loved me.

It pained me get rid of her, but I had little choice. She would never understand my need for an education and a life outside of our relationship and I would never finish school if we kept up this way. Eventually, she gave up and stopped calling. It was a sad day for me. But, I knew it was for the best.

Over the next several years I had several girlfriends and rarely thought of Ariel. She was in the past and I intended to leave her there. Unfortunately, all of these women had left me wanting both sexually and emotionally.

Three years, to the day, after Ariel and I had broken up, I ran into her at a restaurant in Woodland Hills. I was with a date who was boring the hell out of me. I thought my night would never end and I was considering suicide. Ariel, I found out later, was suffering from a similarly terrible fate.

We ran into each other on a trip to the bathroom. After a quick hug and an exchange of niceties and complaints about our dates, we exchanged numbers and agreed to call each other.

That night, after I returned home, I found a message on my answering machine. It was Ariel and she wanted me to call her. As the message played out, the phone rang. It was Ariel.

We talked until six in the morning, reminiscing and sharing our tales over the last three years. As it turns out, Ariel had delved further into the world of BDSM.

I still knew relatively little about the subject, having spent most of the last three years finishing my degree. She was more than willing to educate me with stories of the life that she had led after we had parted.

A few months after she gave up on me she ran into an old friend. During their conversation, he had revealed that he knew of a few places that catered to people with interests similar to her own. Of course, she decided investigate.

Her investigations proved fruitful and she managed to gain more incite into herself and her nature. And, she found that she was not alone in needing pain and force for sexual gratification

She also found that there were many people willing to take her in and give her the experiences that she so craved. Of course, this had thrilled her.

Eventually, she fell in with a married couple who led a lifestyle that intrigued her. Sometime after she met them, they began having non-sexual BDSM sessions together. As she grew closer to them, she became their full time slave and pet.

Over the next year, she learned and experienced many things that she had not

thought possible. Still, during this time of discovery, she found that her life was wanting for something intangible – something that she couldn't quite identify. And, though she cared and respected her masters, she eventually left, seeking out that missing piece.

Her story was more than interesting to me. I was fascinated by all of the details of her life as a slave. She had acted out the part of a pet, barking and rolling over and doing tricks as a dog might. She had played fetch and was made to eat and drink from a dog dish.

After that conversation, I knew that I would have to see her again. This time, it would be different, I told myself. I had no school and no studies. All I had was my job and plenty of time for Ariel.

Soon after that conversation, we began dating again. This time we took it slow. In fact, our first few dates ended with just a few kisses and a hug. The heat, however, was still there. And, it was clear that we would revisit our old habits, relatively soon.

It was on the night of July fourth when we re-acquainted ourselves with each other's bodies. We were anxious and hot, sweat pouring off of us as we made-out in her car. We attempted to make love right there, in her car, when we smacked the horn.

We jumped, frightened at the sudden disturbance. Dogs barked and lights, across the street, came on. We fell together, laughing like teenagers. Then she whispered, "Let's go inside."

At the click of her door, I grabbed her and pulled her to me, kissing her hard. Then I picked her up and took her into her room, flinging her on to her bed and stripping her clothes from her in rough and tumble fashion.

She struggled a bit, my efforts jerking her back and forth. I had thought, because of her struggles, that she might not want a rough taking on our first night after being reunited. But when I had finally gotten her naked, I could see the glistening between her legs that told me I was not on the wrong track.

I pulled her from the bed and pushed her to kneel at my feet. I was hard as I had ever been. Still clothed, I unzipped my jeans and pulled my cock from my pants and pushed it into her mouth.

In short order, I was pushing my cock into her throat, thrusting with regular and deep strokes. There was no struggle for breath nor was there any effort to pull away. She merely stayed put, her hands behind her as my hands held her head steady.

Then the orgasm began to build. I tried to hold it back but she would not allow it. Sensing my impending orgasm, she slid her hands from behind her back and up my legs to my ass. She dug her fingers into my flesh and pulled herself against me until her lips met my body. I felt my cock hit the back of her throat.

Her tongue, lips and throat were working in unison, drawing my to climax. And then it was on me. I groaned and tensed my muscles, helpless in the throws of a powerful orgasm.

As is always the case, the feeling was over too soon. I was bent over her, my cock still in her mouth. I was panting and using the bed for support. I felt as if I had been hit in the head, jelly-legged by a powerful blow.

Finally, I pulled my cock from her mouth and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. She was still on her knees and smiling up at me. She slid to me and began licking my cock. I shivered and almost fell from the bed. I reached out and pushed her back, unable to take anymore.

Then she rose and kissed me lightly on the cheek. And, slowly, she pushed me down on the bed. I did not fight. Then, she helped me from my clothes and snuggled to me.

It was morning. I borrowed her phone to call in sick to work so that I might spend the day with Ariel. I was curious about her oral abilities. She and I had never come close to having oral sex during our previous time together.

So, I asked her about her oral skills and how she became so skillful.

As it turned out, the couple that she had been a slave for had an oral fetish. During that time she had learned how to please both men and women. Most nights, she related, had been spent with her mouth on her mistress' pussy or on her master's cock. Sometimes, she they put her to work pleasing friends of theirs during dinner parties or other events.

Pleasing women was relatively easy, she told me. Licking and sucking in various rhythms was all that it really took. Add a little struggle, as if she were suffocating or suffering, and most women could be made to cum quite quickly.

It was the men who were the most difficult. She explained that she did not need to vary things so much, as with women. However, she did have to learn to breathe between thrusts and to get past her natural gag reflex.

Even after learning to do those things there was the constant change of thrusting rhythms that could make things difficult. The most difficult thing to learn was to take a blast of cum and let it trickle down her throat without trying to swallow. Swallowing, before the cock was withdrawn or before the orgasm had past, could lead to severe fits of coughing.

My own experiences with other women had been less that satisfying, all of my love interests being quite prudish. And so, I asked questions as a child might. Every question and answer led to new questions and then to others.

By the time I had exhausted all of my questions I was a bit aroused. My cock was getting hard and I was nearly ready for action.

Sensing this, she stopped me in my tracks, grabbing my arm. Then she informed me that she had not been taken roughly, or anally, since I had last taken her. Too, she asked that I be a bit more gentle than usual. She told me that she would need a bit of time to adjust to our old ways.

I was a bit perplexed. "Wouldn't a slave be taken hard and anally whenever her masters wanted it?" I asked her. And then she iterated that their fetish was oral sex, bondage and humiliation. And that could all be achieved with a gentle touch.

Of course, I asked about her other lovers, only to find that there were none. She had had many suitors, but had bedded none.

I thought on this for a few moments, wondering if I should, in fact, treat her more gently than I intended. But as her words resonated in my head, my cock came alive again and I knew what I would do.

I reached out my hand and stroked her hair. She closed her eyes, sighing and smiling. Then I pulled her to me and kissed her.

Forcefully, I pushed her head down to my cock, grasping the hair on both sides of her head. She did not fight, compliant to my wishes.

After only a few minutes of mouth fucking, I shoved her to her back. Moving quickly, I spread her legs and kneeled between them. I slid my hands under her knees and lifted her legs, pushing her thighs to her chest.

She was breathing hard, excitement coursing through her. She knew that I was not going to take her gently. And, though she did not fight me, it was clear that she was frightened at what was coming.

Reaching up, I grabbed hold of her ankles with my left hand. Then I grabbed my cock and pushed it against her asshole. With a steady and deliberate motion, I pushed my cock into her ass, until I could push no more.

In the brief moment before I began my thrusts she gulped air. Her beautiful face was marred with an expression of pain. I thought for a moment that I did not care about her pain. Nothing could have been further from the truth. I did care. I needed her pain.

As I began pumping into her, she began screaming anew. Each thrust elicited new screams and new facial expression. Her hands were spread wide, gripping the sheets on the bed. Tears were streaming down her face and she was begging me to be gentle.

I expected that she would try to stop me. Any moment she would fight against this pain. But she did not. Instead, she suffered, as she always did.

Secured in my own control over her, I commanded she reach up and take hold of her ankles. She obeyed. My hands free, I grabbed hold of her thighs, gripping them tightly. My thrusts became harder and faster, more punishing than before. Still, she made no move to free herself.

The wave built gradually, this time, giving me time to savor the moment. And, unlike so many others, it lingered. Even after I was spent, it lingered, leaving me bent over and crippled.

After I had recovered, I rolled off of her and stared towards the ceiling. My breath was still short and I was covered in sweat. A few minutes later, it dawned on me that she was still holding her ankles. I grinned, realizing that there must have been more to what she had told me about her life of slavery. I made a mental note to ask for more of her story. Then, I told her to let go of her ankles and relax.

Later that evening we went out to dinner. Over dinner we talked about things of the past and of the present. And then, over a glass of red wine, we decided to try us out again. As of that moment, we were an official couple.

We had been together for about a month when I found something that I thought might fit her quite well. I had purchased a bondage magazine at an adult bookstore and had discovered a toy that I had not thought of before. It was a butt plug with a tail like a bunny.

Six weeks later, when it arrived at my door, I presented it to her as a gift. She was thrilled with it, immediately removing it from its packaging and begging me to install it for her. Of course, I did.

She looked tremendous, wearing nothing but the bunny tail. And her hopping around and wiggling her nose, as if she were a bunny, drew the expected laughter. However, it was the beginning of new ideas.

End Part 2

We were together for about a month when she asked if I would go to a BDSM club with her. Having no clue what that would be like I was a bit apprehensive. Still, I agreed to go.

The day we were to go to the club, I was still a bit apprehensive. While she was readying herself in the bathroom, I voiced that I was unsure if it was above board. What if there was a police raid? The authorities didn't take well to odd activities like this, after all.

She assured me that there was nothing to worry about. There was no sex at the club and nothing illegal about it. Still, I couldn't help but worry. I was having thoughts that everyone would be wearing leather and chains and chaps and the like. Should I wear something other than jeans and the shirt that I was wearing?

"They're just normal people" she hollered out. "Some will be dressed up and some will be in jeans...just like you."

I was sitting on the side of the bed, still wondering if this was the best plan for the night, when she came into the room. I was stunned. She was wearing a tight leather mini-skirt that barely covered her ass. Her blouse was equally tight, leaving little to the imagination. And, when she turned around, I could see a hint of white peaking under her skirt – the bunny plug.

The drive to the club was a short one. During our ride I asked her if it was wise wearing her plug. She grinned at me, saying "I always wear it.'

"Okay, but no panties, too?" I asked.

"Darling, I never wear panties...or haven't you noticed?"

Actually, that fact had never dawned on me. And, after reviewing my memories, I realized that she was correct. Of course, she was correct. And frankly, I felt a bit foolish at never realizing it.

Most of the rest of the drive was spent in laughter. She was picking on me for never noticing her lack of panties and for my silly worries. For her efforts, I promised her a good spanking when we got home. Of course, she continued to chide me.

"You know, I could pull over and give you a good spanking." I told her, laughing.

"Oh, the big bad man can't take a little teasing?" she laughed back. "I guess, if you need to, you can stop the car and prove how tough you are to lil-ol-me." She was rotten to the core.

Amidst the laughter and harassment, we had arrived at our destination. I stopped the car on a little side street, just around the block from the club. After a short walk, we found ourselves at its entrance.

It appeared small, from the outside. However, upon entering the place, I realized that it was far from small. It had, at one time, been a movie theater. After the theater had gone under, an ex-porn star and her husband had purchased it. After a massive renovation, it became a BDSM lover's paradise.

I was still a bit nervous when she introduced me to a few of her friends. Apparently, she had filled them in on our status and my lack of knowledge in the BDSM lifestyle. They were pleasant and willing to chat, answering the myriad of questions that I presented them. It was quite the learning experience.

After we left the club, I told her that I was glad to have gone. I had learned a lot and, having found that our tendencies were not unique, felt more comfortable with myself. More importantly, I felt as if the timbre of our relationship was less odd than I had previously thought.

It was nearly three in the morning when we arrived back at her home. We were both a bit tired. Still, we had enough energy for some fun.

After taking a quick bathroom break, she came into the bedroom, naked but for red high heels and her bunny plug. Casually, she walked up to where I sat, on the edge of her bed, kissed me and bent over my knee.

"I'm ready for my spanking," she said in a tiny voice. Then, she looked back at me, a mock quiver on her lips. What was I to do? Of course, I obliged her.

The first stroke to her ass was hard. She jerked a bit but did not protest. Again, I brought my hand down, bringing another jerk from her. In a matter of minutes, her ass was bright red and sharply contrasted with her dark skin tone and white bunny plug.

More than ready for action, I pulled her up by her hair and kissed her. Then I pushed her to the bed, commanding she take to her knees. Seconds later, I freed my cock from my jeans and plunged it into her sex.

My thrusts were slow and even. I wanted to make this last. Unfortunately, she had other plans. Clenching down, tightly, she began squeezing my cock, meeting my thrusts with her own. Then she arched her back so the bulge in her ass pressed down on my cock.

In what seemed like seconds, I was struck by a powerful orgasm. After I was spent, I remained inside of her for several minutes. It was not to savor the moment. That had past. However, each small movement caused a sensation throughout my entire body that caused a paralyzing contraction of muscles throughout my entire body.

How long I remained inside of her I could not say. That it was longer than our actual lovemaking was certain. And, when I finally was able to free my cock from her, she turned, smiling. Then she took my flaccid member into her mouth and sucked it clean. Then, we lay down in bed then and talked of future plans.

Unfortunately, our plans were not to materialize. Within weeks of our, rekindled romance, we were fighting. Initially, our fights were short lived. But, after a time, they became longer lasting. One day, after a particularly heated fight, we agreed that we would make better friends than lovers. Just like that, our heated romance ended.

Shortly after the break-up, I met Rog at the BDSM club that Ariel had introduced me to. It is thanks to him that I am in this situation that I am in today, with Ariel. Had I not met Rog, I never would have met Gloria, or the rest of this illustrious group that sits in my home, today. Had I not met Gloria, I would probably never have understood the things that hold Ariel and I together.

Gloria, as you know, is a film director and producer. Her movies, mostly BDSM oriented, are excellent. Again, you all know this. What you don't know is that Gloria and I were a couple for the better part of a year. And, it is thanks to her that I learned the "darker arts" within the BDSM world.

I won't go into detail of our life together. If Gloria wishes to relate that story, she can. Suffice to say that I would never have known so much about myself, or my nature, as I do now. Finally, I never would have been able to live a life with Ariel, as I do now.

About three years after Gloria and I had split, I decided to find Ariel again. In the time between, I had a few dalliances with women, some of them friends. You all know about most of those since you were good with giving me advice and pointers.

To be quite honest, it was these minor relationships that gave me the confidence in seeking out Ariel for further romance. For, most of them had begun in vanilla terms. By the time these relationships had ended, however, they were far from vanilla. In fact, they all ended up finding a man with similar tastes as my own.

My search for Ariel was frustrating. I had gone by her home to find that she had sold it and moved to Ventura. Unfortunately, I had no idea what her last name was, nor did I know any of her friends. So, finding her would be nearly impossible. But, just as I had given up hope, I found her.

I had gone to the LA County Fair with some friends. As luck would have it, so had she. I was watching a band play some old cowboy music. She was watching a spinning demonstration. It was shear luck that I even spotted her. She claims it was destiny. Either way, here we are.

When she saw me, she ran and leaped into my arms, wrapping her me up in a warm embrace. That she was so enthusiastic was quite the surprise. And, after a quick re-acquaintance, we decided to ditch our friends and find a quiet restaurant where we could have lunch and talk.

Over lunch, we spoke of many things. She told me of her move to Ventura and I told her about my business ventures. I was quite successful, at the time, and my business was a multi-million dollar endeavor. Soon after the lighter things were talked over we got down to more personal items.

Unlike me, she had only had one relationship since we had parted. That relationship had been short lived and unfulfilling. After a brief conversation about it, it was clear why she had failed to find fulfillment; the man she had taken up with was a "missionary" - hardly her cup of tea.

As for me, I related small portions of my time with Gloria. She was intrigued by the things I told her and wanted more depth to my story. However, this was not the time to go into greater depth, so I left it for another time.

The next day, we spoke on the phone for a few hours. Before saying our goodbyes we had agreed to meet for dinner. Later that night, we met at a small Mexican restaurant in Chatsworth.

It was a nice dinner. Much of the time we spent chitchatting over unimportant things. As time went by, however, things became more serious, and I spoke to her of us. It was then that I told her that I was hoping we could began a new relationship.

This time, with my knowledge and understanding of her nature, I told her it would be different. In fact, my plans were to delve into a D/s type of relationship.

It was then that she revealed to me that she had always hoped to hear those words from my lips. Unfortunately, she had not been able to express her hopes, fearing that I would wave it off as an extreme or a ridiculous notion.

Soon, we had agreed to try, one more time, to be a couple. Though, this time, our footing would be different. An hour, or so, later we departed the establishment. I told her that I would call her tomorrow so we could make plans for our upcoming journey. The night ended in a tearful embrace and a light kiss on the lips.

The next day, I called her from work to give her directions to my home in the Hollywood Hills. She was to come to my home at six o'clock sharp. Before ending the conversation, I had her tell me her measurements, promising a surprise when she arrived.

The doorbell rang promptly at six. Upon opening the door, she sprung into my arms, hugging me and thanking me for coming back into her life. She rained kiss after kiss on my lips, nearly strangling me with her hugs. Her exuberance was such that I wondered if I would ever escape her grasp even take another breath.

Finally, I settled her down and unwrapped myself from her arms. Then, I told her to stand in the middle of my living room, in front of the television. I took my seat on the couch, smiling at her.

She was grinning at me and fidgeting about, asking me question after question about what I was going to do and what was the surprise. After letting her ramble on, for a good ten minutes, I held up my hand and shushed her.

"First, I want you to strip for me." I told her. "But do it slow and sexy, as if you were a stripper."

She rolled her eyes up a bit and then blushed, requesting some music to accompany her strip tease. Of course, I denied her that comfort and demanded she begin her strip tease immediately. Embarrassed, she began her dance. And slowly, her clothes came off. Finally, she stood naked.

"Very good." I told her. "And now (drum roll) the surprise."

I held out a small box to her. I am certain she thought that it was jewelry of some sort. I guess, it was, sort of. But, it was not what she expected.

From out of the box she pulled a gold chain and a two long swaths of a light, pink material. She looked at me quizzically, not understanding what it was for until I motioned my hands around my waist.

Smiling, she slipped the chain around her waist and clipped the ends together. Then, she looked up at me, asking what the cloth was for.

"One for in front and one for in back." I said. "Drape the fabric over the chain, lengthwise. It should fold evenly and reach just past your knees."

I was tempted not to allow her the other box. Her simple covering allowed her the appearance of a slave girl from some cover of a pulp fantasy book of the fifties. This is to say that she looked sexy as hell.

Reluctantly, I gave her the second box. From this box, she withdrew a bra, of sorts. It was comprised of gold chain and the same pink fabric that draped over her waist chain. After a brief inspection, she slipped the "bra" over her head and secured it in place.

The chain at her waist glowed against her dark skin, a contrast to the shear pink fabric that barely hid her secret places. And her areolas were barely hidden under the shear pink fabric that covered her breasts, again offset by the shining of the chain that wrapped around her body and neck.

I don't know how long I stared at her. All I can tell you is that I was stunned. She was lovely before. But, something about this new look excited me in a way that her nakedness had not.

Finally, I snapped out of my daze and handed her another box. This box contained slippers that matched the pink fabric of her other garments. And after she slipped them on, I told her that this was to be her attire whenever we were home. She nodded in affirmation, smiling.

After she had gotten the chance to look at herself, I called a Chinese delivery place for our dinner. While we awaited our food's arrival, I told her more of what I planned for us.

The ensuing months would be our test, I told her, to see if she could be as submissive as I wanted her to be. Too, it would be my test to see if I had what it took to fully explore her submissive nature. A sort of compatibility test, really.

Amidst my monologue, I revealed that I had always loved her, suffering in her absence. Unfortunately, when we had been together, we fought constantly. And it was my hope that, armed with a better understanding of her nature and mine, we could last a lifetime. I closed in simple terms. After two years, if we still wanted to be together, I would marry her. And thus, I would make her mine legally.

She sat, quietly taking in my words. Truth be told, I was a bit fearful that she would find my offering to be too much. After all, we had not been together in quite some time and this was only our second time together, since our re-acquaintance.

It was her turn to speak, now. She did not delay, being ready to expose herself. She told me more about her life as a pet. She told me, again, that some intangible force had been missing from that life. At the time, she had not known what that was. However, with our rekindling romance, she knew that it was love and passion.

Then, she told me that, even during our time apart, she had confidence that our paths were destined to cross time and again, until we got us right. And so, despite her many suitors, she had refused most, only taking on those who reminded her of me.

"I love you." She said. "I always have. And, I know that you love me, too."

We continued talking for quite sometime. I revealed more of my learning's and my skills as a dominant. Mostly, she was quiet, listening to what I had to say. She did ask questions, from time to time. But, mostly, she listened.

We both jumped when the doorbell sounded. It was our Chinese delivery. I got up to answer the door, promising to continue the conversation later.

As I gathered the bags of food from the deliveryman, I instructed her to go into the kitchen and get a place setting for me. When she returned from the kitchen, however, she was armed with place settings for two. Her first lesson commenced, immediately.

After she placed everything on the coffee table, I chided her for getting more than I had told her. I explained that she would do as she was told and not assume more. Also, she would only eat with me when I chose for her to do so. Otherwise, she was expected to kneel beside me and wait for her chance to eat.

She sat, eyes wide, looking at me and nodding. Much to my pleasure, she did not utter a word other than a "Yes, sir".

As I ate, I continued with my lesson. When I was finished, she understood that her needs were secondary to mine and, if I chose, she might eat my scraps and nothing more. I intended, I told her, to turn her into a pet, once I knew what type of pet I wanted.

I had expected for her to put up some sort of fight or to be upset. To my surprise, there was only a look of submission in her eyes and her demeanor. When I was done, she answered with a sweet "Yes, sir".

Once I was done eating, I fixed a plate for her and allowed her to eat. She was careful, as I instructed her, not to make a mess. Any food, dropped on the table, would be eaten immediately, using only her mouth. And, in the case food spilled to the floor, she would be expected to suck any sauces or juice from my carpet.

After dinner, I told her how pleased I was with her obedience. She glowed at the complement, thanking me.

"Do not thank me, " I said to her. "Nod slightly in acknowledgement. Say nothing."

"Yes, sir." she whispered, a smile on her lips.

Then, I had her take the dishes to the kitchen and wash them. When her task was completed she was made to wash up for the night. "While you are washing, I want you to shave. You are never to have hair, other than that on your head." I told her.

After another "Yes, sir" she was gone to complete her task.

Later that night, we undressed and climbed into bed. She turned to me and asked if I would, more fully, define what I expected of her. I declined, saying that it would evolve and she would learn.

I did allow that our relationship would be, initially, much like the sort of relationship that married couples used to have, before women were allowed to vote. That is, there would be no initial protocol other than what I had already dictated. New dictates would be added over time. And, I told her, eventually, she would learn to be who and what I wanted.

"Yes, sir." she said, nodding.

After having her turn out the light, She climbed in the bed and snuggled up to me. I held her for a brief moment. Then, I whispered to her that I expected oral gratification every night, as soon as we settled into bed.

"Yes, sir." she whispered.

As I had expected, she slid down, pushing back the covers, and wrapped her lips around my cock. Her tongue pushed over my semi-erect cock as she sucked me into her mouth. It took her only moments to bring me to full hardness. And then, she took me deeper.

I watched her head bob up and down on my shaft, occasionally remaining up so she could suck the tip of my cock. At these moments she would stroke me, expertly, with her hand.

Eventually, when my excitement grew, she got to her knees and pushed her head down, until her lips met the base of my cock. For a long moment, she held me deep in her throat, tongue sliding across the length of my cock while increasing suction.

Just as I began to feel a twinge of pain, she eased her sucking and slid back up my shaft. She repeated this technique several times over. Then, just as I had become used to her formula, she slid down and held position.

This time, she began contracting her throat around my cock, squeezing and releasing in alternate rhythm to continued strokes with her tongue. I had never experienced anything quite like that, before. And, unable to contain myself, I climaxed, spewing my seed into her throat.

After my orgasm subsided, she slid down to lay on her side. She still held my softening member in her mouth, sucking on it and, occasionally, flicking her tongue across the tip. I wanted that moment to last for forever. Unfortunately, it could not. I had to get to work in the morning and it was late. We slept the night in each other's arms.

Before I left her, the next morning, I instructed her that she was to make herself at home. Use the phone if she needed to, eat whatever was in the refrigerator and, if she felt the need, she could wash her clothes in my washing machine. Her only restriction was masturbation. This was not allowed and I told her that her orgasms were to be under my control, at all times.

She beamed a smile at me when I closed my orders and followed it with a mock salute and a hearty "Yes Sir!"

For the next month our nights were spent similar to that first night. She would kneel beside me as I ate and eat when I was finished. She never complained, even when I only allowed her to eat the leftovers on my plate.

Weekends were spent going out to various places and having fun. Always, before we left the house, she was made to suck my cock. Then, if our transit covered a significant distance, she would find herself sucking me while I drove. Of course, the same would be expected on our return trip. Later in the evening, she would, of course, satisfy my needs before I went to sleep.

Finally, one Saturday, as we were driving to her place in Ventura, she asked me about our sex life. I had not fucked her since we had gotten back together and she was wondering if I ever intended on fucking her again, or if I only intended on getting blowjobs. Too, she was wondering if she would ever be allowed to cum.

I had been waiting for this moment for some time. I was rather surprised that she had not brought it up earlier. Frankly, had she not brought it up I might have thwarted my own plans and brought it up myself. At any rate, it was time to make a few things clear to her in a manner that would ensure her that I was the one in control of this relationship.

It was then that I informed her that I enjoyed her oral skills and intended on enjoying them whenever I wished it. I told her that, in my journey to make her into a pet, she would have to suffer. And, if suffering meant never cumming again that she would have to endure it. I closed by stating that she was to be used for my pleasure and not the other way around.

Truth be told, that was a litmus test. If she reacted negatively it would ruin our relationship. She was a headstrong girl, prone to being stubborn, always wanting to get her way. It was that trait that had been the end of us in our previous lives together.

And so, I waited for a brief moment, a lump in my throat. Finally, I turned my head to look at her. To my eternal pleasure, she smiled at me and nodded. And then those two simple words came forth from her lips.

"Yes, sir." She said.

We arrived at her place soon after our conversation. It was a large home, not far from the beach. As soon as we entered, she stripped out of her clothing and put on the, more revealing, outfit that I had given her.

After showing her place to me I decided to take a shower. So, I put my overnight bag on her bed, pulled out some clean clothes and headed to the bathroom.

I had just stepped into the shower when I heard the door slide open. I turned to see Ariel sliding into the shower with me, snuggle into my arms. I held her tightly as she held me.

Moments later, she looked up to me and whispered words of love. Caught up in the moment, I leaned down to kiss her. And when we broke I knew that this would be the last relationship that I would ever have.

Our shower was long and sensuous. She washed me and I her, running soap over each other in long, slow strokes. And when I washed her hair, she kneeled in front of me, eyes closed, whispering of her devotion and love for me.

Eventually, the water began to cool and we were forced to leave its pleasures. And so, still dripping, we stepped from the shower and into the fog and another warm embrace. And somewhere, amidst a deep kiss, passion found us in a hurried frenzy of lovemaking.

Unlike so many times before, it was not rough, though it was not gentle. One moment she was bent over and I was filling her, thrusting and grunting like an animal, from behind. The next moment she was facing me, arms and legs wrapped around my body. A flash and we were on the floor, lips seeking out secret places.

There was nothing that did not pass - no stone left unturned. We were everywhere and nowhere, bodies flying about, lust unchecked. Moans and screams filled the damp air, followed by promises of love. And then, in a fit of ecstasy, it was over.

For long and long, we lay on the bathroom floor, moisture covering our tortured bodies. In a glance into each other's eyes, we began to laugh. The laugh dwindled to loving smiles and soft whisperings of love.

Our hands sought out the others. A brief kiss - a gentle caress - chitchat between lovers. It was hopeless for us both. We laughed again.

End Part 3