The green interstate sign indicated that Rt. 90 West bound was coming up in 2 miles. Gwyn blinked. That fast? Where did the time go? The drive from home to her destination was a little over 6 hours, and in the blink of an eye, it seemed, she was half-way there. Her mind had been busy remembering, recalling, and anticipating. It had been 5 years since she escaped from the rigors of daily living to be ensnared by His masterful dominance. Five years since her backside felt the harsh slap of a hand, the sting of the flogger, the kiss of the cane.

 

They had had a wonderful three years of interaction. She still remembered her first visit to Him; the nervousness, the headiness, the butterflies in the pit of her stomach. The increase and crescendo of anticipation as the miles closed between them. Walking up to his front door and taking the deep breath before the knock. And here it was again. He was not new to her, but so much time had passed that it felt new. Life played it natural course. His work and family demanded his attention. She had gotten married and had children. Communication between them slowed down and then ceased. It was not from lack of interest, just a lack of time and energy. She had learned that it's too easy to let life intervene and take over.

 

Both of them were too busy for their own good. But life had settled down a bit for both of them. And with the renewal of spring came unbidden thoughts of the time they spent together, and where it disappeared to. The bond they seemed to share reaffirmed itself the day she finally sent the "Hey, are you alive?" e-mail; the same day he called her at the office and said "You've been on my mind.." It didn't take long for the date to be set. The date they'd reunite. And here it was, the "weekend". It felt a bit surreal.

 

The three years they had together was beyond words. Each time they met limits were gently expanded, previous "no-zones" were eliminated as trust between them manifested into solid rock. Sessions became more varied, longer, more intense. Toward the end of the third year, there was nothing, truly, she wouldn't have allowed him to explore. He knew her fears, her terrors, her delights, and he never violated any of their rules. She trusted him with her life. Then life ripped them apart for a short while. So how was she feeling now? She wondered how He was feeling. All the trust, the emotion, the passion, the power exchange, all the experience was still there as if 5 years had been 2 months. She was ready for this trip. She missed it. She missed Him. But there was the fear of the time lapse. Had things changed for Him? He wanted to see her, too, but what did that really mean? She thought she knew what to expect based on their pervious visits, but she truly had no idea what to expect at all. It was a little unnerving.

 

The drive was good, the day was gorgeous, and the sun was warm on her cheek through the driver-side window. Meatloaf's "Paradise by the Dashboard" light was burgeoning from the radio and she turned it up. Her musings had eaten up another hour. In just a couple of hours she'd be there.

 

He had moved since last he saw her, and the Yahoo! Maps directions were perfect. He had his own house now, rather than the condo where he used to live. It was certainly more private. He had mentioned years back wanting his own place, his own basement, his own dungeon. She shivered with excitement. Did he have a dungeon? He had told her it would be discreet. No one walking into it would fathom the kinks hidden there. She couldn't wait to find out. Where would he have stowed The Rack? The Rack – the thought of that single piece of equipment

was kindling enough to make her the stoke the fires deep within. He had surprised her with it during one of their last times together. He'd built it just for her, and she had been humbled and honored; and it had been the most incredible session of her life.

 

Well, no time to think of that now, she was here.

 

The house looked like any rural American house, two floors, garage, and a decided lack of flowers or gardening areas. Not only was He single, he was rarely at home. She tucked the thought into the back of her mind as she walked toward the front door. Perhaps, if they had another get-together in late-Spring or early summer, she'd ask him about doing something about it. He must have seen her coming, because before she had a moment to take the deep breath before the knock, he opened the door. In the briefest of seconds the years passed away like a puff of breath on a cold day. He smiled at her, pulled her into a quick hug, and said "It's great to see you again."

 

They spent the first few hours of their first day together simply catching up. They sat on the back porch in the bright sunshine for a bit, sipping iced teas and talking. "Want the grand tour?", he asked. She nodded. He pointed out the kitchen, the den, the bathroom, and then began for the upstairs. He passed a door that looked like it might have gone to a basement and Gwyn asked, "What's down there?" "Oh that," and he waved his hand, "that's the basement, but it's an absolute wreck. Though I've been here a few years now, I never really have done anything with it, being away as often as I am. Someday, though.... Follow me.", he stated as he circled around to the upstairs.

 

She felt the acute pangs of disappointment. She been so hoping he'd have followed his desire to build his "workspace". Oh well. There was no use lamenting what cannot be. He finished the nickel-tour and said, "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm hungry. How about some dinner?" Gwyn nodded and asked "Do you want me to cook something?" He shook his head and said "Not tonight. I haven't had a chance to go shopping. Perhaps we can do that tomorrow and we can eat in."

 

He was taking them to a good Italian place. He knew she adored Italian and the lively atmosphere would be a nice change. Over dinner, they talked about the jobs he was applying for, the consulting work he was doing, the private battles he was facing. They talked about her job, her two boys, her studies. They sipped wine, laughed, and got back in touch with one another. The conversation had been lightly sprinkled with suggestive D/s jargon, but there had been no firm talk of D/s. No talk of plans for the weekend. The curiosity and desire to know what, if anything, might be in store for their time together was close to bursting off her tongue, but she held it back. She'd told him she wanted their time together to be free-flowing, but just being this close to him set off the sparks of remembrance and desire. They were close to wrapping up dinner and she was feeling a little let down, primarily because she let her hopes get the best of her. She sighed audibly, releasing her tension. He looked at her then, reached across the table and grasped her wrist in a firm hold, and her heart started racing. She looked up at him shyly, suddenly caught in her previous thoughts, and he said "Well, young lady, are you ready?" Anyone hearing their conversation would have thought he was asking her if she was ready to leave. But she knew better. "Yes, I'm ready", Gwyn stated with a slight lift of her chin. The edge of his mouth quirked into a slight smile as he shook his head ever so slightly. "I think you forgot something, but I'll help you remember later. Before we go, I’d like you to do one thing."

 

He reached into the inside pocket of his field coat and pulled out a 6 inch, black, rectangular box that resembled a watch box. “Take this into the ladies room with you. I think the rest will be self-explanatory.” Gwyn took the box and looked up at Him. “You have a question?” he asked when she hesitated. “No, Sir”, she answered, and she left the table and headed towards the bathroom. She had a good idea what was inside. She closed the stall door behind her and rested the box on top of the sanitary napkin disposal unit. Slowly, she opened it, and inside was a 4 inch, medium-sized, pink-fleshed anal plug as well as a small tube of lubricant. A flush crept up her neck and made her ears warm. She lowered the toilet lid, unfastened her jeans, lowered her blue-laced silk underwear and put a dab of lubricant on her anus as well as on the phallus. Gwyn placed the anal plug base side down on the top of the toilet lid and slowly lowered herself onto it. She moaned as it slid in and her clit throbbed a little. She was tempted to just sit there and masturbate to orgasm, but decided it would be more prudent to wait. What was this exchange for if not restraint? And restraint always paid off. She recalled a scene with Him when he’d hung her on The Rack and inserted such a plug, but it was smaller, into her. The thing would stay in. It had been humiliating to have it pop out, but there was nothing she could do. The harder she tried to hang onto it, the more it had popped out. The plug inside her now was larger, more bulbous, and she was thankful she had her jeans to help keep it in.

 

She stood, pulled her panties and jeans back up, washed her hands, and met Him back at the table. She handed the box back to Him. Its lack of weight told Him she had complied. “Good girl. Let’s go, shall we?”

 

As they left the restaurant, he placed his hand firmly on the small of her back and steered her to the car. As she walked, she felt the pressure of the plug inside her and every moment was a small torment. She felt herself getting wetter with each step. She slid into the passenger seat and barely stifled a groan as she sat. He was watching her closely. Gwyn shifted a little in the seat. He looked at her as he started the engine and said, “Problem”? With a spark in her eye, Gwyn said “No.” “I see”, he stated, and then he clucked his tongue a little as he put the car in gear. She smiled a little smile, basking in his presence, and chuckled a little over her blatant non-use of the title, "Sir". He expected her to resist a bit and took pleasure in bringing her around. And she reveled in the honest struggle she experienced in submission. Day to day she was a leader, a go-getter, assertive. It truly was hard for the submissive to break the surface, but when it did, it was total, and it was nothing short of spiritual and psychological joy. The reunion had just begun.