A life changed forever

Judith sang loud while the wolf licked its wounds

Helpless to stop it

His essence suffered her end

Take the plunge

You’ve lived a lie

The choice was made in an instant

And lovers were reunited in eternity and a day

       As the industrial metal throbbed and reverberated throughout the vast space, Missy danced in the ring of her friends, lost within the music.

       She hadn’t wanted to come out to the club without her Master, but he’d insisted when they’d spoken on the phone earlier that day, now she was glad that she had come.  Missy was having fun, but she’d been looking forward to showing off and modeling her Halloween costume for Travis with much anticipation.  Unfortunately he’d had to go away on business for a few days and wouldn’t be back until the day after Halloween: tomorrow.

       That afternoon he’d called from Carson City and sounded quite dismayed when she’d told him that she didn’t want to go out on Halloween without him.  It didn’t take long for him to convince her to go out and have a good time; after all, he was her Master.  And once she’d arrived at the club with her friends and had a couple drinks, she’d loosened up. Someone suggested that they get up and dance, a fetish show wasn’t scheduled for over an hour so the dance floor was open and full of sexily clad bodies swaying and rolling to the beat.  At first she’d protested that she wouldn’t be able to dance to the music being played, it was a genre she wasn’t accustomed to.  But after being physically dragged from their table beside the wall and out onto the sleek wood floor, the dark music worked its way into her mind and had her dancing with subtle grace.

       The club was called “Links,” aptly named because of the trademark decorating that gave the building its industrial and fetishist feel and flow.  Hanging from the high ceiling, about six feet above the head of the tallest patron, spaced evenly apart, were countless polished chrome chains.  Each strand of links hung about a foot apart from the others, all were uniformly hung and stretched from one wall of the warehouse-like space to the other.  There were several different types of chains, ranging in size from large, heavy looking links that resembled old fashioned boat anchor chains, all the way down to tiny ornamental links almost as small as beads.  The heavily polished metal strands caught random glints of light from the various stage lights expertly situated to provide illumination during shows as well as the erratic strobe lights.  All of this provided an all-enveloping sense of surrealism and the exotically dressed mass of dancers added to the effect quite nicely.

       Only half of the stage lights were currently on, as not to blind or dazzle the crowd on the dance floor.  The glow descending from the high ceiling provided more than enough light to see the costume Missy had chosen for Halloween, her outfit stood out boldly among the dark colors most of the other patrons wore.

       The short skirt and top were white with red accents.  There was a small Red Cross emblem on the left breast and small red lines descended from the shoulders on each side all the way down to the bottom of the top.  The outside of the top’s collar was lined with red as well.  Finishing off the outfit were knee high white boots and a cute faux nurse head piece, white with another Red Cross emblem displayed at the center.  Missy’s dark hair hung loose across her shoulders.

       She kept her phone on her, her Master had told her that he would text her at some point during the night to see how she was doing and to wish her a happy Halloween.  Soon she felt it vibrating at her hip, she’d clipped it to the skirt as not to miss Travis’ text.  Still dancing, she unclipped the cell phone, flipped it open, and read the text displayed on the lit screen.

       It said, “Step outside, I’m going to call you in a couple minutes.  YM”

       She flipped the phone closed and replaced it at her hip, then turned and screamed into one of her girlfriends ears that she was going outside to take a call.  The girl asked if she wanted someone to go with her but Missy declined, she had been to Links with her Master numerous times and had never seen or heard of a problem with crime around the club.

She shines in a world full of ugliness

She matters when everything is meaningless

Fragile, she doesn’t see her beauty

She tries to get away

Sometimes it’s just that nothing seems worth saving

I can’t watch her slip away

I won’t let you fall apart

       The music pounded down onto the surging crowd as she threaded her way from the dance floor and through the equally crowded area near the bar on her way to the front entrance.  The bouncer at the door put a stamp on the back of her right hand and she stepped outside to receive her phone call.

       The late-October night was cold, not frigid, but chilly with a light breeze blowing in off the water.  The front door was situated against a corner of the building, the line of people waiting to get into Links stretched off to Missy’s left, she turned right and walked around the corner to get away from the crowd and get some privacy for the call she was expecting.

       Missy stood at the mouth of the alley with her arms crossed across her breasts as she tried to fight off the cold.  She hadn’t been there long, she’d just barely started to shiver slightly when it happened.  Two men, dressed in the standard black of the bouncer uniform, turned the corner into the alley and walked towards her briskly.

       Caught off guard, Missy was only able to shuffle back a half step before she was seized.  One of the men grabbed her and shoved her face first up against the rough outer wall of the club, the other reached into his pocket and drew out a zip tie.  He pulled the zip tie closed tight around her wrists, securing them behind her back, while the other kept a hand over her mouth, silencing any scream she tried to make, then once her hands were zip tied, a rag was pushed into her mouth, the free ends wrapped around her head and tied mercilessly tight at the back of her neck.

       They turned Missy, now bound and gagged, away from the wall and led her, each with a hand gripping one of her arms, further down the alley.  Missy was helpless to resist, the two holding her were strong and taking no chances, their grips firm on her upper arms.  She tried her best not to stumble as they hustled her ever further down the narrow corridor created by the two buildings, she’d never realized how big the structure that housed Links was until she was kidnapped and forced to walk its full length.

       Missy’s heart was racing as one of her darkest and most secret fantasies was realized in the worst way, in a very real way.  She was pulled around the corner, and forced to walk along the rear of the building. 

       Eventually they came to a small plain metal door, one of the men reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, and selecting the required one he unlocked the door.  Missy was hustled inside and the door slammed closed behind them. 

       They were in a storage bay for the alcohol served at the bar, the men pulled Missy inside and towards the left.  She tried to cry out through the gag, the acoustics of the large room coupled with the smooth concrete floor carried her muffled noises of distress well, but they went unnoticed. 

       Missy quickly realized to what she was being taken to: the service elevator.  One of the men pushed the button and the oversized doors slid to the side.  Missy was pulled inside, once in the car, one of the men hit another button, the controls were simple because the building only had two floors.  At the touch of the single button, the lift rumbled to life and they ascended to the second story of the club.

       She felt the men’s probing eyes upon her flesh as they gazed at her body, exposed by the sexy costume.

       “This one is going to be fun,” said the man holding her left arm to his partner.

       Missy didn’t think her heart would be able to pump any faster, but as she heard these crude, cruel words, her fear somehow urged her blood through her veins ever more rapidly. 

       The lift was fast, only having to travel up one floor.  They arrived on the second floor and the doors slid open, revealing a dimly lit hallway.  The décor of the corridor was plain, the only thing exceptional about it was its color, it was all black.  The walls, ceilings, the shag carpet, were all black.  Even the lights which were dim to start with, were hooded with black custom fittings.

       Missy, panicked as she was, felt herself out of place in the dark hallway, her white outfit glaring against her dark surroundings.  Her kidnappers led her out of the elevator and down the hall to the right nonetheless.

       As they made their way down the hall, Missy noticed that they passed doors on the left.  Numbers were inlaid at about face level.  Soon they came to a door marked with the number 12.  One of the men turned the handle, the door swung inward, and she was forced into the room.

       The room was just as dimly lit, if not even dimmer, than the hallway she’d just left.  Missy tried to look around and take everything in, but failed, and in her frenzied searching her gaze was able to discern nothing in the gloom. 

       Her eyes adjusted just enough to see that she was being led to a table in what she assumed was the center of the room.  The two men picked her up and set her down on the surface, which she found was soft black felt.

       The men were efficient, they went right to work.  The zip tie was cut from her wrists and the rag pulled from her mouth, but these restraints were quickly replaced with other and stricter bondage.  Ropes were wrapped around her wrists and ankles and tightly knotted, then they were connected in a tight hogtie.  She saw one of the men prepare what she recognized as a gag trainer, a series of black leather straps, creating a kind of head harness; it was fitted with a red ball gag.  Her nurse head piece was pulled from her head.  The contraption was pulled over her head and framed her face as she was forced to open her mouth, accepting the ball gag; the straps were fastened around her head and under her chin.  Two straps extended up and inward from the rings on either side of the ball gag and connected over the bridge of her nose, then extended further up between her eyes over the top of her head.  Numerous other straps stretched over her head, the one under her chin insistently forced her to constantly bite down on the ball held in her mouth.  The top of the trainer sported a ring, a rope was threaded through the ring and pulled down and tied to the hogtie, pulling her face up and holding her head in the air along with her white booted feet.

       Their work done, the two men turned and walked behind her towards the door, she was unable to watch them leave in the position she’d been restrained.  She heard the soft click as the door closed, silence followed, she could tell that they had gone.

       Her kidnappers had gone, but Missy soon realized that she was not alone.  Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light provided by the hooded lights in the ceiling, the straps partially obstructed her vision but only enough to make her feel objectified.  After a while she could discern what she thought were stocks.  She’d seen them before; they were a very intricate piece of “bondage furniture.”  Supports stretched up from the floor, holding a wooden bar at waist height, the bar was split down the middle horizontally with a hinge at one end and a hasp with an open lock at the other end.  In the center of the bar was a circular hole with the approximate circumference of a person’s neck.  To each side of this circular hole were smaller holes for securing a person’s wrists when the top half was lowered and the hasp was locked in place.

       The stocks were situated in front and to the left of the table she was bound upon, directly ahead at the back, or front of the room, depending on your point of view, was a chair.  Calling it a chair wasn’t quite adequate though, the term “throne” was a more fitting word to describe what sat centered at the far end of the room.  It had a decoratively high back, reaching halfway up to the ceiling.  There were elaborate etchings that had been glossed over, the sheen catching the weak light and making the designs stand out.  The top of the throne flared slightly at the top, giving the illusion of folded wings.   She soon realized that there was someone sitting on the throne as well.

       The nearest light revealed the person to be wearing black slacks, black, stylishly matching shoes, and a short, motorcycle riding style leather jacket.  Due to the light’s position, it only cast illumination onto the clothes of the person, who she could tell by the build, was a man, she could not make out a face in the darkness.  He sat, leaning to his right, his elbow propped on the arm of the throne, his left leg hung arrogantly across the other arm rest.  His face was masked in the room’s shadows, no doubt by design.

       Missy lay there on her stomach, hogtied with her arms held behind her, her legs drawn up and her head held firmly in place.  She fearfully gazed into the darkness where she knew her observer’s face to be, she couldn’t see his eyes but she could feel them boring deep into her, seeking something.  What: she did not know.

       Slowly, the man stood up.  His face was hidden in even deeper shadows as he rose, the light falling away down his black-clad form.  She watched him remove the riding jacket to reveal a simple form-fitting black t-shirt underneath, and hang it behind him across the corner of the back of the great throne.  Then, her heart leapt ever faster as he approached her bound form.

       The man stayed against the wall, away from the light as he came toward her.  He was very close to her now, but she still could not see his face.  Then, to her dismay, he was behind her, she’d never even caught a glimpse of his face as he’d passed.

       Missy’s eyes squeezed shut and her body betrayed a wince as she felt a hand rubbing softly down her back.

       “Hello slave,” Travis said.

       Realization hit Missy like the hardest physical blow Travis could have delivered.  Relief flooded her mind, her fear instantly drained away, all the while feeling appalled at what she’d been put through, what she’d been forced to endure.  A small part of her, steadily growing bigger, was even just a little grateful.

       “Just breathe for a moment, you’ve just gone through an ordeal that most women would rightfully press charges for,” Travis paused, he lowered his face down close to Missy’s ear, “but you’re not going to press charges, are you?”

       Missy, still reeling from the rapid fire turn of events of the evening, slowly shook her head as much as she could in the gag trainer.

       “I didn’t think so,” he continued, “even now, after less than a minute, you’re already starting to enjoy it.  You’re grateful for what I’ve done.”

       Travis watched Missy take it all in, she couldn’t argue, and not because she was gagged, but because the words he spoke were the truth.

       “I’m sure it was a convincing show, but come now slave, this is Seattle,” Travis said, speaking as if they were having a normal conversation, “no one looks at you in this city unless I give them permission.”

       Somehow, in her now wildly spinning mind, Missy was able to feel pride at belonging to one such as her Master, because she knew he was telling the truth.  She belonged to him and him alone, he would let no harm come to her.

       “I imagine Quentin said something along the lines of how much fun they would have with you,” he said, “he said that because I told him to, I wanted to see the look of absolute and total fear on your face when they delivered you here.”

       He said “delivered” like he’d ordered Missy.  In a way, he had.

       “He’s no drama major though, so I was sure to stress the importance of keeping it short and sweet.  I see it worked perfectly,” he said to his gagged slave, “and don’t worry about your friends.  They know you’re with me.

       “I watched you dancing from the owner’s box above the dance floor.  A mecca of light in a sea of darkness, you were breathtaking,” his words all but pierced her bound form as his hands touched and explored her.

       “I have this little dungeon reserved for the remainder of the night, we’re going to have our own little Halloween party.  Slave, are you excited?” Travis asked; his tone was self-assured.

       Missy tried to nod her head but was unable to when Travis gripped the rope holding her head in place and pulled back as he again whispered into her ear, “Don’t worry about nodding, I know what you want better than you do.”

       With that, Travis started untying the hogtie that incapacitated her on the table.  He released all the ropes holding her in place except the ropes around her wrists, he left her face held within the trainer, the ball gag still in her mouth.  He pulled her from the table, stood her up, and leaned her back against the edge, her arms held behind her.  Travis then reached behind his back and pulled a gleaming knife from the sheath at his belt.  He held it in front of Missy for a moment so she was sure to get a good look at it, he then lowered it to her bare thighs under the skirt and let the point slide up the insides of her legs.

       Missy held her breath as she was teased with the cool steel of the blade.  Her Master put just enough pressure on it for her to know without a doubt that it was the point of a knife that was touching her bare sensitive skin, sliding up higher and higher up her skirt.

       Then, with a well practiced flick of his arm, he cut the skirt from her body, leaving her upper legs bare.  The ruined skirt fluttered to the floor at their feet.  She now only wore white panties and the white boots below the top.

       Travis brought the knife up to the white and red top as his other hand wrapped tightly around Missy’s throat, she looked up at him from within the gag trainer.  The sound the top made was quite loud as Travis cut it, from the bottom up on the left side all the way to the arm hole.  He then did the same on the other side.  With the cuts reaching all the way up from the bottom, he lifted the top easily over her head and dropped it to the floor.

       Missy now stood bound, wearing only her underwear and the gag trainer.  Travis then made short work of the underwear, precise cuts through the straps of the bra allowed for its easy removal as well as the panties.  Missy’s heart leapt as it always did when a knife was brought to bare so close to her sensitive areas.  She quickly found herself standing nude before her Master, her outfit lying in rags at her feet.

       Without a word, Travis forcefully turned Missy around and bent her over the edge of the felt covered table.  He strode over to the far end of the room where the toys were kept; there he picked up the paddle he’d selected after close inspection earlier.  It was black leather and the entire striking surface was embedded with tiny metal spikes.  He ran his hand across the rough valley of steel as he walked back to his waiting slave.

       Travis situated himself behind Missy’s restrained form, he placed his left hand over her bound hands, holding them out of the way.  With his other hand, he lightly trailed the small blades that made up the paddle’s surface across Missy’s ass.  Then he reared back with the vicious paddle and brought it swinging down to connect with Missy’s exposed ass, quickly and without warning.

       The preview over, replaced by the sharp, biting pain of the paddle, Missy screamed her anguish into the ball gag held efficiently in her mouth by the many straps around her face and head.  She screamed again, even louder this time, as Travis brought the paddle down across her ass once more.

       Travis was a compassionate Master; he put Missy’s safety before anything else.  But he also knew her very well, possibly better than her own parents.  Where other, more squeamish or soft-hearted dominants in his position would yield in the name of mercy, Travis was absolutely merciless.  So strong was the link between Master and slave, he needn’t worry about ever making Missy uncomfortable.  Obviously uncomfortable is a word with multiple meanings for Missy and Travis, being beaten with such a vicious instrument obviously causes Missy pain, makes her scream in agony, but it also takes her to a certain place, her mind reaches a level that few can attain, and even fewer would ever want to.

       Missy’s ass hurt so much that it felt as if Travis had literally set it on fire, but she stayed where her Master had put her.  She didn’t struggle against the ropes binding her wrists, nor did she fight his firm grip holding her bent over the table.  Missy felt herself centered compliantly in her bondage, creating the perfect example of submission.

       Travis ceased the abuse and laid the paddle down on the table as he let one hand trail across Missy’s badly beaten ass.  He hooked one finger in the ring at the top of the gag trainer and pulled Missy backwards until she stood straight up next to the table.  He turned her around to face him, Missy stood, breathing hard and looking back up at him from within the gag trainer once more, its black leather straps creating bold lines across her face, her bare breasts thrust forward by the bondage holding her wrists behind her.

       Running his hands down the bare skin of Missy’s bared body, Travis asked, “Did you enjoy that slave?”

       Her eyes never leaving his, Missy slowly nodded.

       Leading her by the arm, Travis pulled Missy over to the mini bar in the corner of the room, off to the left of the throne.  With a firm hand at her back, he forced her to bend over the low counter created by the bar.  Travis reached behind the bar and selected a bottle of Captain Morgan’s spiced rum; he twisted the cap free of the bottle and took a sip.  He then put his index finger into the bottle and upended it, wetting his finger with the potent liquid.  Travis placed the bottle of rum back on the bar and lowered his finger, glistening slightly in the low light, down to Missy’s tortured ass.  He trailed his finger across the small cuts and scratches made by the vicious paddle, making a line of rum across her agonized skin which quickly found the many tiny wounds.

       Missy made high-pitched squeaks and whines through the gag as hot tears rolled down her cheeks, only to be lost among the straps of the gag trainer.  The fire that burned on her ass blazed brighter and hotter, so much hotter, as she felt the liquid settle into her abused flesh.

       She cried and whined, but Travis didn’t stop.  He would never stop torturing and hurting his slave.  Her job was to submit, to serve and please him, and in return his was to satisfy her need for domination, to hurt her and objectify her in every way his darkly creative mind could fathom.  And so the torment continued.  He continued to let the liquid fire burn and blaze across her hurting body, she cried and whined, screamed and squealed, enjoying her torment, while he watched with cold amusement.

       Soon the bottle of rum was empty, Travis didn’t mind, it had served its purpose.  He pulled Missy up from across the bar and looked into her eyes, still shimmering with unshed tears.  He smiled, bent down and gave her a “gag kiss.”

       With that, Travis pulled Missy away from the mini bar and toward the stocks.  He halted her in front of the formidable-looking device.  He raised the top half of the stocks, it swung easily on the well-oiled hinges.  The hinges had a stopper at just past 90 degrees, he let it rest there as he turned back to Missy.  He released the ropes holding her wrists behind her back and then just stood there, his hands cupping the sides of her face as he gazed at her.  Missy gazed back up at him as she stood before her Master, wearing only a gag trainer, her hands hanging down at her sides.  He just stood there, taking a moment to look at the submission plainly evident in her eyes.

       Then, without a word, he bent Missy forward, guiding her neck and wrists into the corresponding well-padded slots.  Her hands and head now perfectly placed, Travis reached up and slowly lowered the top half of the stocks down until the two halves touched with Missy held in the middle.  He secured the hasp at the free end and the two halves became one, with his slave held securely within.

       Travis stepped back to quietly admire the pretty picture that his slave made within the confines of the stocks.  She was held bent over before him, exposing her most sensitive region to him as he stood behind her.  He could see that she wanted him, her juices glistened softly in the room’s low light.  Travis wanted Missy badly, the pain he’d inflicted, and that she’d endured so eloquently and gratefully was the perfect aphrodisiac.  Missy was ready, hot and wet, and Travis was just as ready, so achingly hard for her.

       Missy heard Travis release his belt, and then she heard the slow sound of his zipper lowering.  He was so close, but in her current position, he may as well have been miles away because the stocks holding her prevented her from seeing anything behind her.  The hasp holding the two halves together, in effect, made her a piece of the bondage furniture, because she wasn’t going anywhere unless the hasp was released.  She knew that she wouldn’t be released until her Master was finished with her in her current position.  It was that thought that ran through her head as she felt Travis enter her roughly from behind.  She moaned as he shoved his entire length forward, her pussy, already wet, accepted his girth smoothly.  It was moments like these, that if it weren’t inappropriate in so many different ways, she would love to tell her Master how much she appreciated him, appreciated his meticulously prepared actions, his dark, cruel creativity.  But during sex wasn’t the best time to bring these things up, plus she’d been trained to speak only when spoken too, and if that weren’t enough, the gag trainer effectively kept her quiet, if not exactly silent.  And once she felt an orgasm starting to steadily push its way into her lower body, as well as her mind and voice as one currently was, she wasn’t able to entertain thoughts of anything other than the sheer pleasure of the act she was taking part in, the act she’d been led and drawn into.  Besides, she knew, somehow, that her Master knew all too well how much she loved what he did to her. 

No words were necessary, no thanks required, for as the greatest need of Missy’s life, of her being, was to submit, to feel the dark will of another dominating her, Travis’ need of absolute submission was his ultimate need.  He needed the body of another to command, control, and use.  Missy not only provided that body, she provided her mind and soul as well, submitting so willingly and naturally, it just seemed meant to be.

Travis plowed himself forward into Missy’s submissive body, held within the strict confines of the stocks.  He watched her shudder and writhe as orgasms racked her body, her screams were muffled by the gag trainer as she came again and again.  Once again, her Master had rendered her to a carefully chosen position and dominated her there, just the way he liked it, and just the way she loved it.  Missy once again marveled at her helplessness, finding out again that she loved the feeling of her powerlessness.  The stocks and gag trainer, combined with her Master thrusting roughly behind her, created the perfect world for her in the here and now.  Missy loved it.

After allowing her one more orgasm, Travis pulled himself from his slave’s bound form and stepped around to the other side of the stocks where Missy’s face was held, framed in bondage.  His orgasm came upon him as he took himself into his hand while simultaneously pulling Missy’s face up by the ring at the top of the trainer.  Missy was breathing hard as her Master came all over her face, held in place by the stocks and his firm grip on the trainer.

Travis wiped the tip of his cock off on Missy’s face as he surveyed the mess he’d made.  He then pulled his pants back up, zipping them up once more and securing the belt.  To Missy’s surprise he stepped to the door and opened it, then two women dressed in latex maid’s uniforms stepped inside.  One of the women carried a small tub of water and wash rags, the other carried an outfit hidden within a garment bag.

“Clean her up, then bring her downstairs,” Travis told them, again speaking of Missy as if she were merchandise.

His instructions given, Travis stepped back to the front of the room and pulled his jacket from the back of the throne where he’d left it, then strode over to Missy, still held within the stocks as she looked from the women to her Master with wide eyes.  He bent over and kissed her on the top of her head as he pulled the jacket on.

“I’ll see you in a few minutes slave,” he said.

Then he left her there with the two women.  The two “maids” stepped up to her.

“Are you alright?” one asked while the other released the hasp on the stocks and lifted the top half, Missy was able to nod her head slightly.

Now freed, Missy was helped to a standing position.  She was then led over to the felt covered table and helped to lie down upon it smooth surface.  One of the maids began releasing the straps of the gag trainer while the other wet a rag in the small wash tub.  Once the trainer was pulled from her head, her face was scrubbed clean of her Master’s cum by the maids.  The only remaining part of her costume was removed when the maids pulled the knee high boots from her feet.  They then proceeded to clean her up from head to toe, even between her thighs.  She was turned over onto her stomach and antiseptic ointment was applied to the small but numerous cuts and scratches that now decorated her ass.

Now clean, Missy was once again stood up next to the table.  One of the women unzipped the garment bag, revealing the outfit her Master had selected for her.  What she saw took Missy’s breath away. 

Hanging inside the garment bag was a sexy strapless black latex dress.  The women hustled her into the outfit.  The dress hugged her body perfectly, pushing her breasts up, it was short, extending only a little past her ass.  A new pair of matching black boots was pulled up her legs, the tops reaching all the way up to her mid thighs, leaving a few inches of skin between the short dress and high boots.  The bottoms of the boots featured platforms and heels, adding an additional four inches to her height.  He’d even provided accessories, decorative black leather wrist and ankle cuffs.  The black of the leather cuffs did nothing to offset the flawless dark beauty of the outfit, it was perfect.

Missy looked down at herself, clad in her new Halloween costume.  The nurse outfit was good, but this was much, much better.  Maybe she only thought so because her Master had picked it out, but he had very good taste.

Their work finished, the maids stepped to the door.

One turned back to Missy and said, “Come this way, He’s waiting for you.”

Never needing an explanation as to who He was, Missy followed the two women out into the hallway.  She was led to the left, towards the front of the building where the club was.

The hallway was long, but Missy quickly became accustomed to the platform boots.  The three women finally reached the club via a door marked employees only on the outside to deter curious wanderers.  Every head in the vast room turned towards the sight that they created, the two maids, clad in black and white, walked in front, Missy trailed behind and between them.  The two maids created almost a walking frame for her, striding forward in shiny black that could only be described as passionate.

The two women appeared to know where they were going, and soon Missy spotted Travis among the crowd.  He was seated at a table near the dance floor, ironically, a glass of rum sat before him on the table, she saw that he’d been watching her since they’d made their entrance.  Along with the eyes of the rest of the crowd, his had been upon her as well.  Even from across the room, he seemed to be feeding off the sight of her.

The maids brought Missy to Travis, and then left as he rose from his seat as Missy stepped toward him.  Travis pulled Missy into his arms, she melted into his body as they kissed.  The clubs lighting played off her latex dress and his leather jacket.  After a moment, Travis pulled back enough to look at her admiringly.  He then reached inside the jacket, Missy looked down and wasn’t surprised to see her collar in his hand, it had been the only thing missing from the outfit, but he wouldn’t allow anyone, not even Missy herself, to place it around her neck but himself.  She lifted her hair as he threaded it around her throat, then she felt complete as it was secured under her chin.

As his finger lightly trailed down the center of her chest, Travis spoke over the music that still pounded down from the speakers, “Did I hurt you slave?”

Missy smiled sweetly as she answered, “Yes Master.”

“Good.  I hope you like your new Halloween costume.  I decided not to go with anything too exotic this year.  This Halloween I figured we’d just be what we are, you get to dress as a submissive, and I’m a dominant.  And I must say, you look simply ravishing in that dress, my slave,” he said.

“Thank you Master,” she said.

“This way slave,” Travis said as he withdrew Missy’s leash from a pocket and snapped it to her collar, “they’re waiting for us in the VIP room.  I just wanted to show you off in front of all these wannabes first.”

With that, Travis turned and led Missy away from the dance floor and deeper into the club by her leash.  Of course Missy obediently followed at one pace behind.  The music played on into the night.

Not enough, I need more

Nothing seems to satisfy

I said I don’t want it, I just need it

To breathe, to feel, to know you’re alive

Finger deep within the borderline

Show me that you love me and that we belong together

Relax turn around and take my hand