Chapter Thirteen

There were so many things she wanted to talk to Jack about – the cottage, bondage, naked in the out-of-doors and the sudden shock of Malcolm on the porch with her in a collar and nearly naked. But all the worrisome questions, fears and matters that seemed so important the day they left, just faded a little more into memory each day that separated her from that weekend. By the time Friday arrived, the cottage seemed like little more than a dream. It had been five days since their hurried departure and in that time there’d been two brief conversations with Jack and no emails. Just as well that they didn’t talk much; Jack was still pissed about the university scandal, and still embroiled in sorting it out. If she learned anything about him from those days without his presence in her life, she wanted nothing to do with the pissed off Jack. Not that he was unkind to her when they did speak, but he certainly wasn’t talkative. He’d walled himself away, and as he did, an uneasiness about their relationship crept into Jeni’s thoughts that no amount of rationalizing his state of mind could change.

His third call came Sunday morning, Jack Hawking on her caller ID, and her heart leapt hopefully.

“Morning, Master.”

“Mornin’ wench.” He sounded so cheery. Was he finally done with being pissed off? “Woke up horny this morning,” he said.

She smiled. The lust in his voice sent a shiver of physical joy through her body – the man had returned to her, at least she hoped. “Did you, now?”

“I did.”

Her body, bereft of any erotic feeling in days, felt a sudden rush of desire sweep her through, lighting up all her favorite sexual places.

“Sorry I’m not there to take care of that horny you,” she purred catlike, imagining herself crawling up the bed while he lay back, his hand in his crotch, playing with a half hard cock – or maybe it was already fully erect – her mouth going down on his prick and sucking it until he climaxed. What a beautiful dream!

“Me too,” he said, “So what you’re going to do is masturbate this afternoon and use your dildo.” Sure, why not, she smiled at the thought. “You think of me while you do and then tell me all about it when you’re done.”

“Yes, Master,” she giggled from within, while an inner spasm sent her hand to her crotch. Her pajama pants were already getting wet, and when she brought her fingers to her nose, she savored the tangy sweetness of wet pussy and perfumed soap.

“So, does this mean your emergency is finally handled?” she asked, as she absently toyed with her clit.

“I wish it did,” he said. Regret and irritation suddenly leapt into his voice, and as they did, the world of Master/slave faded just that fast. She should have never asked the question. “I have another meeting this afternoon.”

“I’m sorry about that. So…back to that instruction, you’ve certainly done a lot to change my day.” She tried to draw him back to her with the sensuous heat behind her words, but he’d already returned to pressing concerns.

“Just wanted to pass on that order, slave. And now I’m going to let you go. I’m exhausted and need to nap before I take off. But you’ll hear from me soon.”

“And you’ll hear from me sooner,” she said brightly.

“I’d better.”

Several hours later, she followed Jack’s instructions to report on her masturbation. Her faith in their relationship had been renewed, and thinking now of all the things he would do to her when she saw him next was all the aphrodisiac she needed. Jeni attached a new, freshly penned document to her brief email.

“So, reporting in, Master. This is how it went this afternoon. (Please excuse…my mind’s not quite in editing mode at the moment (smile), so you may find a few text errors. Hopefully nothing that offends you.) Hope your day’s gone well. slave”

And so you tell me…order me, to use the dildo when I masturbate in this afternoon. You tell me to let you know how it all comes out…

So this is it, Master, my fond recollection of this afternoon about 2:00, not long after you called and started talking nasty, and giving me that masturbation order.

I probably shouldn’t confess to you how naughty, nasty, dirty I can be, thinking of you, your cock, your sexy ass, and my own need to have you rape mine nasty, really nasty.

Doing as ordered, I get to the bedroom and head for the toy bag where I find the purple dildo. And how ‘bout that? I stumble on the cowhide flogger, the brutal one that smells of earthy leather, which I drink in like a drug. While I’m lubricating the dildo with my mouth and tongue, wishing it was your cock between my lips, I rub the talons of that rugged leather against my pussy, like it’s a lover, like it’s going to get me off.

A wave of horny loveliness makes me writhe against the soft covers below in a cocoon of heat. The dildo goes in and out of my mouth, while thinking of it being your cock instead of this hi-tech latex. Then abruptly I stop sucking and push the scattered falls of the flogger aside and stuff the dildo in my cunt. In and out and in and out, then pulled back along my clit – like it’s inviting that inflamed little sex-bud to come along for the ride. I stuff that purple thing back inside, fucking harder…and harder still…thinking of the ways you’ll beat me the next time I see you – slow to start, then picking up speed, going deeper, opening me wide, making me the horniest slut on the block this afternoon – or is it that afternoon in the future that’s really on my mind? That’s the miracle of the imagination: I can be in two fantasies at once, this afternoon’s and next time’s, all in the same moment.

My clit swells, it even seems as if that dildo expands, and I get a little frantic, so I rub it against my clit a little harder, and then harder, while it’s going in and out with each orgasmic spasm building on the last. Then the cumming is on me, that one big blow out sensation of pure joy, while in my mind are thoughts of you and how nasty it’s going to be when we’re together again…

I cum and cum again – finally throwing off the dildo, and the forgotten flogger, for that last inner blast when I rock on my fingers and feel my slit erupt with juice that pours out over my hand. I cry out, throwing back my head and softly seething, “Goddam, fuck” over and over…mouth open, wishing you were here with your cum dripping in my mouth because you’ve just climaxed too…

I probably shouldn’t confess to you how naughty, nasty, dirty I can be, thinking of you, your cock, your sexy ass, and my own need to have you rape mine nasty…but I think this bears repeating.

END

***

Jeni didn’t hear from Jack again until the Thursday following, four days later. She could only assume he enjoyed her report, even though he hadn’t responded.

“So sorry I’ve been so distant, been a rough two weeks,” he opened the conversation, still sounding a little weary. “But I’ll be making it up to you this weekend, Saturday night.”

“Saturday!” Two days away! She was about to jump from her skin with glee. “Really…I didn’t expect—” she stopped there, afraid she’d jinx the moment. “What time?”

“Later in the afternoon, four maybe. I’ll call Saturday morning once my plans are set.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing you. Anything special I need to do?”

“You know how to make yourself ready for me. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“By the way, we’ll be going out, not staying in.”

“Really? That’s got a mysterious sound to it.”

“Good. You can dwell on that until I see you.”

***

Jack arrived on the cold that blew in when she opened the door. It was a blustery fall day, with wind whipping around the edges of everything, scattering dusty leaves and perfuming the air with the late summer scents of burning leaves, old grass and other decaying things. There was something moody and wistful in the air, as there was every fall, though Jeni’s spirit was as fresh with excitement as a new spring.

He carried shopping bags in his hands. Presents? Toys? She looked at them wonderingly.

“You’ll know soon enough. Now let me see you.”

They hadn’t even kissed yet, but hearing the fixed authority in his voice, she stepped back and dropped her robe behind her. She was wearing her collar and the black nipple ties, nothing else.

He gave her a quick once over, “Now that’s a sight I’ve missed,” he said. His fond appreciation was written all over his face; and with that she felt her anxious jitters ease some. He stepped forward and gathered her into his arms, kissing her firmly on the lips. They made out for a while, longer than she would have expected, but she wasn’t about to stop until he was. She missed this intimacy as much as she missed the sex. Jack’s warm arms, the surrounding embrace, and today there was affection coming from him bigger than any she remembered in the past. They didn’t talk about love and romance, not about the future and little about the past. This was good in many ways…but he so rarely spoke about his feelings, that she was often left to wonder what was going on inside his mind, and maybe even more, what was going on in his heart. What did he really feel about her? She had to take her cue from the warmth of his generous embrace. This was how he communicated feelings, and for that moment the emotion of that hug spoke volumes. Good enough for now.

The faded glory of the season’s beautiful light cast a warm yellow glow about her living room. On the walls there was bright sun and dark shadows where the window blinds reflected the changing light of day. She could feel something magical in the air, some strange mystery written in the atoms of everything.

There was something hushed and quiet in their mood. Something melancholy, too. Something longing to be expressed.

“I’ve made reservations for dinner,” he said. “The Tivoli.”

Her eyes widened in wonder. This was unexpected. One of the trendiest restaurants in town – 21st century elegant: modern design meets crystal chandeliers and a black and white checked marble floor. Not exactly Jack’s down-to-earth style.

“Nice,” was all she could say.

“Nice, maybe. I want you slave tonight. My trinket, my slut, my toy to play with for the evening. Nothing more. Understood?”

“Yes, Master, understood,” she repeated back. Just saying that took her down a notch or two.

“And just so you’re in the mood…” He turned his back on her, picked up one of his shopping bags, a black one with a bright red handle, and pulled out a whip she hadn’t seen before.

“New, Sir?”

“A hundred and eighty dollars new. I like the feel of it in my hand. The handle in my fist.” Jeni stared at that firmly clenched fist in awe of the strength he conveyed. “I like the way it’s braided and how the falls end with these sharp cut pieces of leather.” He held those split leather ends across his open palm so she could see them and shudder. “I imagine I’ll like how it makes you scream.” A sneer on his lips. “How it marks your back. I wasn’t happy with the marks I left when we were at the cottage. The whip I used then was lame compared to this.”

Panic and desire hit her squarely in the gut as she felt the darkness in his voice. Even his eyes had noticeably darkened. “Oh, but you didn’t see how long those marks lasted,” she jumped in, shivering in fear, wishing he’d just take this new whip back to the store where he bought it.

“Wasn’t enough,” he assured her with an almost brutal authority behind the comment. “Scared now?”

She could feel a dark resonating throbbing infect her body like a drug. “Damn right, I’m scared,” she answered. Her eyes were still riveted on the black braided whip that dangled gracefully in his hand. Graceful was so misleading. A whip like this could tear a woman’s bare flesh into shreds.

“Then you’d better sink down into that pretty subspace you love so much and trust your master. Be afraid, it’s what you love, what turns you on.”

There was a lot to quarrel with in that statement, but she had to let that go, and answer with a simple, “Yes, Sir.” Damn, he was turning her on.

“I want you at the far ends of your slavery, slut, all decked out like a prim Pretty Woman, polite and respectable. We’ll both know otherwise.” He smiled devilishly. “Underneath your dress you’re nothing but slave. Marked, tethered and tagged.”

Marked, tethered and tagged. Shit! There was cum leaking from her pussy. Her breath was short, her heart racing away. She was hotter than she ever expected to be at this point in the evening. He certainly hadn’t lost his magical touch. Where would they go from there?

Head spinning, mind dazed, she followed Jack through the house, with the new whip left on a living room chair. He carried with him a hammer and a heavy brass hook, as he looked at door frames, studying each one carefully and making plans. She was too stunned to understand right off what he had in mind, although it didn’t take long for her to break free of her bewilderment once Jack was hammering the hook into the framework of the arched doorway leading to her two bedrooms. The perfect spot, even Jeni could see that. The doorway was broad enough for her to dangle suspended in the middle, and still have plenty of space on either side for Jack to move around her, if he so chose.

“Get your cuffs and put them on.”

She hesitated a moment then scrambled away, bringing back from her bedroom Jack’s bag of cuffs. The ones for her wrists were on top. Just putting them on took her another rung down the ladder of humility into slave. Her body shuddered from the thrill of it.

He stood behind her as he raised her arms and attached the rings on her cuffs to the sturdy brass hook. Once again, she dangled before his hungry eyes with her body undulating, and her longing gaze beseeching his attention.

He was sexy and sensuous, not hard and cold, as he moved his clothed body against her naked one in a seductive dance. Kissing her throat. Blowing in her ears. Nibbling the tender skin at the crook of her neck. His hands were like fire as they roved her flesh, leaving imprints of his vision for her along her skin. He caressed her with a fierceness that moved her, aggressively, tenderly – it didn’t matter how he touched her. Her body was aflame. She felt the heat emanating from his sex, and knew that his cock was growing hard.

“I’m going to hurt you, Jeni,” he whispered. “Remind you who you are. Take you down. You’re going to love it, slave. Just don’t make me gag you.”

She was glad that she was tethered to that doorway; by now her legs were weakening. She was shaky and fragile, feeling powerless to keep herself upright on her own. But she wouldn’t slump and she wouldn’t falter. She would hold on; she had that kind of strength even when she’d been taken down so low.

“And why not gag me?” she wondered aloud, surprised she even had the mind to ask the question.

“Because, today, I want to know that you’re slave enough to control your cries for me. Because that is what I’ve ordered. Just think of it as me, your Master Jack Hawking being the bastard to his lowly bitch.”

He squeezed her ass hard this time, though the first rush of pain quickly disappeared into pleasure.

“In fact, from now until I tell you otherwise, I don’t want you saying a word. Not a single thing. You may gasp. You may quietly cry. Just don’t talk, and don’t scream. Show me that you have at least some restraint.”

Whew! And he was just getting started…

Beams of light from the setting sun, all rosy and golden, streaked her with sunlight and nearly blinded her when she looked back to see his face. She sought just a small wrinkle in his hard stance that might suggest something softer in the man emerging through this steely façade. Something in his eyes. Or on his lips. Lips that had just minutes before kissed her so tenderly. But there was little tender about him now; if there was anything she couldn’t see it. Maybe she was just blinded by this incredible sun.

The sun might mask the tenderness in his eyes, but it couldn’t mask his scent, and how his powerful pheromones were spilling out all around her. The redolence of everything sensuous bathed her now, and she drank in his lust, like she’d drink a glass of dark, earthy cabernet.

This wouldn’t be pleasant, this wouldn’t be sweet but it would be what they needed. And maybe heal them both after the long drought of the last couple weeks.

When he stepped back, she heard his boots on her hardwood floor. She loved the sound of them, like she loved the scent of his body and the steel in his eyes.

When he picked up the whip with the cut red leather ends – red like blood, she thought – her inner body cringed. Then the first snap landed on her back. Sharp and painful. Then the next, on her shoulder. And the next on the other shoulder. The pain reached deep, but she made no sound. She was a good slave, always an obedient slave. Yes, she could stand this. He whipped her slowly, measuring, aiming each strike carefully so it hit exactly where he wanted. She had time to get used to the pain and the pace of it…

At least until he lashed out with a good half dozen on her ass right in a row, so fast that she seized up, wanting to scream, and hoping the little cry that escaped her lips would be forgiven. Apparently it was because Jack just kept on going, returning to her shoulders for several more snaps of that whip on either side. Marking her. This wasn’t sexy. Did nothing to turn her on more than she already was. But she kept her mouth shut tight – might as well have been gagged – enduring every blasted nasty blow like the trouper she could be. She didn’t like it and for one sliver of a moment, she hated him for taking her far into a pain she could barely handle. But as soon he was done and laid down that fucking red-tipped lash, she felt a spine-tingling fire wake her to the pleasure rushing through her body.

He was at her back again, releasing her, removing the cuffs, letting her slump against him when she was finally free.

“See. You can not scream,” he said.

“It would have been better if I could have screamed,” she said, still dazed.

“No it wouldn’t.”

“I don’t agree.”

“You don’t have to agree with me. You just have to obey. Denying you the right to scream turns me on. And since being obedient to me turns you on, I figure we both get what we want.”

His hands moved over her tenderly again.

Maybe. Maybe he was right. Maybe there was something about the way that he controlled her orgasm and her cries that made cumming as astonishing as it was. But she was too weary to think about that now.

He sat her down. Covered her with an afghan. Brought her water. Then he sat next to her and took her hand.

“Did you cum?” he asked.

“Oh, heavens no! That was much too crazy painful to get sexy, Sir.” But then she smiled. “But now…?”

“You look as soft as a sleeping child.” He carefully brushed a lock of hair from her face. “I’m not sorry about that pain, not with the way we’re feeling now.”

“I did do well, didn’t I?”

“You did. Proud of you.”

He so rarely said things like this that she lapped up every word.

“Think you’re ready for dinner?” he asked.

She perked up a bit, sat up a little straighter. Took another deep breath. “Yeah, I think so.”

Jack started to rise, but then sat back down. “Almost forgot.” Fishing through the pocket of his jeans, he pulled out a small black organza bag with something shiny inside and handed it to her. “It’s time you were wearing this.”

Presents. Thrills. Something to get excited about. She smiled as she opened the little black bag and dropped its contents into her hand. She looked down to see resting on her palm a silver disk a little larger than a nickel with an inscription engraved on the front side. She sat back, pleasantly startled. Marked, tethered and tagged, he’d said. Tagged. And this was that tag.

Property of Jack Hawking

Master

Jeni put her hand to her mouth. She honestly didn’t know what to say, and was feeling strangely light-headed as she gazed at the shiny medallion resting in her palm. So much all at once, and the evening had just begun.

“Turn it over,” he told her.

She flipped the disk to the back side, and there, inscribed in a graceful script: slave jeni. She smiled again.

“To dangle from your clit.”

The tag, yes! At last – how many emails had it been since this was first mentioned?

“Of course.”

“You need a new ring since you lost that bead in Paris. I found a suitable one at a tattoo parlor that should work.” He nodded toward her crotch. “Stand up. Let’s take off the old one.”

“You need my help?” she asked as she stood before him, although his fingers were already tugging at the ring, unscrewing the bead and slipping it through the piercing.

“I think I can manage.”

Apparently, finding the hole was easy enough. With surprising dexterity, he had the new ring and the engraved tag in place with little effort.

She remembered back – the piercing had been her own idea, one that had been born in her fantasies and had stayed with her until she finally acted on that desire some years ago. The clit ring through that sliver of skin was her sexual statement, a tribute to the dark side within her that she could not deny, avoid or fear. To have Jack’s tag dangling from her clit – well, she really hadn’t any idea exactly what she felt about that or what it might mean. But she was giggling inside, thinking about how much fun this was. Above any deeper meaning, it was an amusing and exuberant moment of delight.

“I sure didn’t expect this.”

“I know you didn’t.” It was his turn to smile, for his eyes to light and the weariness she’d felt from him when he first arrived finally vanish. Whatever concerns had settled around their relationship over the previous couple weeks seemed to be disappearing, too.

“You know what this means?” he asked.

“That I belong to you – as if there were any doubt that you own me.”

“That’s right. All mine, slut. Unless there’s some legitimate emergency, you need my permission to take it off. Clear?”

“Clear, Sir.”

“I’m sure you want to see it in the mirror. But let’s not take long. It’s time to dress for dinner.”

***

Slave Jeni walked out on her master’s arm feeling as if she’d stepped into a favorite fantasy, though in fact, this fantasy night was straight out of Jack’s imagination. He’d bought her a long-sleeved black dress, which was fashionable and elegant, but there was nothing particularly slutty about it. The hemline was just a couple inches above the knee, and there was a small slit on one side, but the neckline was reasonably demure, not dropping too deeply either front or back. It was designed in a flattering, form-fitting style, though not too tight, just as her imagination pictured when he first mentioned a night out in his emails.

The Dom steps out of the car holding a leash, on the other end is his sub wearing a gold collar and dressed to kill.

He also bought her a plain black garter belt – the kind with six sturdy metal garters to hold up the fancy patterned stockings he chose. She added some simple silver jewelry and a pair of black pumps – thankfully not stilettos – her legs were already trembling so much with excited fear that she had to hang onto Jack to keep herself upright. What was so remarkable was how everything he bought fit perfectly – quite a coup for a man who probably hadn’t shopped Macy’s woman’s department in a long while, if he ever had.

Understated sexy. If that’s the look he was after he hit it right on. But it was not how she appeared to the world that mattered as much to either of them, as what was underneath that dress, and what it said about who they were.

She’d cut new lengths of black yarn for her nipples, which were tied and tucked into her lacy black bra. She wore no panties. There’d be nothing to obscure the view of her master’s silver tag dangling conspicuously from the clit ring pulled out from between her labia. Just hours before, labia and pussy had been shaved free of pubic hair and were smooth to the touch. Shaving had been a standing order for every time they were together. When she’d shaved herself earlier that day, she thought of Jack, as she always did in those gleeful moments before his arrival. At the time, however, she had no idea how prominently her shaved puss would figure in Jack’s plans.

The look was stunning, but he wasn’t entirely done. One more thing required.

Just before they were about to leave the house, Jack suddenly pulled out a mess of straps connecting to a vibrating metal egg. She shrunk back, alarmed.

“If I could have found an easy way to discreetly attach a leash to your clit ring and lead you around that way, I would have. But this should do to keep you focused on me.”

As if she wouldn’t already be! What was he thinking?

By the time he finished getting his new sex toy secured with straps around her waist and thighs, the silver bullet inside her cunt and going nowhere, Jeni was so aroused that her cunt was leaking juice right down her leg. There was some genius behind the toy’s clever design – obviously created by someone for whom the task of tethering a slave in such an intimate way was serious business.

With the bullet in place, he tested the remote, sending a sudden and riveting vibration through her cunt that traveled everywhere in seconds and then out through her fingers and toes. She seized up instantly, and might have cum if he’d left it on any longer.

“You’re fuckin’ serious!” she gasped when he turned the dang thing off.

“That was the number five setting. I’ll experiment with it through the evening, decide which setting I prefer.” Oh, his grin was evil! As was the laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll start out a little easier next time.”

“And when would that be?” she asked.

“You really are naïve, slave. You think I’d announce my plans to you?”

“No, of course, you wouldn’t. How silly of me.” She dropped down deeper into her slave space, took a breath, and walked out on his arm.

As he helped her into his Wrangler in gentlemanly fashion, she gazed at Jack wonderingly; he was looking pretty damn handsome, in grey slacks, blue stripped shirt and navy jacket. No tie. How her master dressed that night gave her another way to view him, and she liked what she saw. She was just the trinket on his arm. What a titillating idea.

The evening was an incredible blur. It seemed that her five senses were in competition to see which one would take her mind and body away into the sensuous pleasure.

The Tivoli glowed warmly, just like her house had all afternoon. Bluesy, sexy music filled the room at every corner; while the aroma of food, of baking bread, garlic, basil, rosemary and oregano, slipped into her senses, the way her muses do when they’re lighting up her body as she writes porn. But this was living her kink, far from fantasy and the written word, for hardly a word needed to be said. They spoke a lot through their eyes and how he held her hand. He had some uncanny way of claiming her fiercely with that heavy hand on hers. He controlled her without saying very much at all. The man was her mystery. He certainly didn’t need the vibrating egg to keep her thinking slavish thoughts. But now he had that, too, though at least at the start of the evening, he didn’t use it at all – to the point that she wondered if he ever would.

Jack ordered her food – she’d hardly paid attention when he did – probably too busy looking into his eyes to hear what he said. When the bowl of seafood risotto appeared in front of her, it was a happy surprise, though she felt uneasy eating it without having his permission – apparently some internal slave sensibility had been instilled in her with each new twist in her master’s plan. If he wanted her to be the slave, this was what she’d do. He had already started on his steak, and seeing that she hadn’t picked up her fork, he gave her a studied look, and smiled.

“Yes, you may go ahead and eat,” he said, and he went back to his food.

Every bite became the best thing she’d ever eaten. Every sweet and savory morsel romanced her taste buds and felt like lust. Her arousal gained momentum.

They dined in a tiny corner of the restaurant. Though where they sat wasn’t exactly private, it was remote enough for them to feel within a private world – unlike the world around them that went merrily along in its fancy clothes, glittering dialogue and exhilarating laughter. Theirs was a quieter reality. She was a unique commodity, a woman in her place, under the control of a man. He held her there with his steadfast authority, every instant imbued with respect and devotion and mystery.

“So, slave, how does it feel to have your naked crotch on the chair,” he asked, as he sat back and drank his wine.

“Feels sexy.”

“You’re looking sexy, slut.”

“All because of you, Sir.” She smiled.

“Tonight, you need to call me Master.” His eyes narrowed to emphasize his point.

The order felt like admonishment, and the flint in his voice was an unmistakable trigger for her further surrender. She lowered her eyes, “Yes, Master.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“And look at me when do,” he added. Again, his voice was firm and mildly reprimanding, though she didn’t suppose he was thinking that at all when he gave the order. Or then maybe he did. He knew the power of that old voice inside her head that wrenched at her sex and had her juices flowing every time it spoke to her. He was that voice now, bold, demanding and entirely in control.

A rush of arousal came on her swift and fast, and she could feel the juices leaking from her crotch.

“Yes, Master.”

She met his gaze, staring into his cool eyes – the only cool thing about this night, his eyes. Taking in a breath, she breathed out letting the feel of his presence infect her body like a drug.

“That’s better,” he said. “It would be unfortunate to have to beat you again before the night’s out. So, how are your back and butt feeling now?”

She squirmed a little to remind herself of the marks he’d left. “Tight. But that’s a feeling I love.”

“Imagine how they look. You saw them.”

Yes, she remembered the proud master showing off his handiwork in the bedroom mirror; and how she’d strained to turn so she could see the rash of red marks he’d painted on her white skin. Her body quickened with the remembrance. “I did. I’m sure whatever technique you used, it did the trick. They’ll be there at least a week.”

“You know, there’s one red mark peeking out of your dress. Right at your shoulder.”

“There is?” Alarmed, she twisted around, trying to catch a glimpse of it.

“You won’t be able to see it, but it’s nothing to worry about. It’s small, on the back of your shoulder. No one will think anything of it but me.” He looked amused. “Of course, with you, I imagine you hope it gets noticed, leaves people wondering.”

Her face reddened. “Can’t say for sure what I want or need or anything else right now. But you have me where you want me.”

“And there you should stay.”

His hand covered hers again, warm and reassuring. That he’d created this night down to the smallest detail meant everything. Meant that two weeks of troubling thoughts had been replaced with a master who was more of a master to her now than he’d ever been. Fact was, he’d never been anything to her but Master. Tonight she felt that in bones and flesh, and in the deep places that hungered for this kind of submission.

She was too busy looking into his eyes to notice that Jack had put his free hand in his pocket. A second later, the bullet in her cunt came to life, and she jerked in her seat, startled. The sensation traveled quickly through her. She stopped breathing for an instant, and then relaxed, though everything inside her continued to vibrate.

“Eat something,” he said, drawing her back to him. “Then finish your wine.”

Dutiful and obedient, she did what she was told, while adjusting to the sensuous vibrations in her cunt. Apparently, he thought she was ready for more, because he kicked it up to the next setting, and had every nerve in her body engaged and trembling with a deeper, stronger vibration.

“This is some kind of magic inside me,” she said of the feelings that arose.

“Is it, now?” The look on his face suggested that this pleased him, but perhaps not enough. Another setting higher, and Jeni was certain that the entire restaurant would be looking at her involuntarily grinding her naked pussy against the chair. Her sex juice was already sliding into the fabric beneath her.

He watched her for several moments, as her body adjusted to the increasing vibrations, as she took deep breaths to calm herself, as her face reddened and she struggled to keep her body motionless in her seat and maintain her poise.

“Difficult?” he asked.

She set down her fork and put her hands in her lap. “Yes, Master.”

If he’d only drop it down a notch.

He must have seen her mounting distress. “But you can handle it,” he assured her. “Go on, finish your dinner.”

As they continued with their meal, Jack directed the conversation to more vanilla subjects. Just catching up after two weeks of living without each other. She’d have no idea what they talked about when the night was over, but she’d remember the vibrating silver bullet, the look in his eyes, the feel of his hand, the sexy aroma of the food, and the sound of his voice, which was rooted in an authority that arose from the essence of the man. None of this could be forgotten.

“May I have your permission to use the restroom, Master?” she suddenly blurted out.

“And this is a urgent?” he asked.

She hadn’t thought much about her physical needs until now, but the vibrating bullet had shocked all the lower senses to life, including this one. “You know, I think it is.”

“Then go,” he said. The vibrations from the bullet immediately stopped. How kind of him to give it a rest. She rose to her feet. “But first…” he interrupted her leaving. He was fishing in his pocket again while she stood waiting by the table. Then he grabbed her left hand, and deposited something small but heavy in her palm. “Goes on your clit ring for when you return. Attaches with a clasp. No need to take the ring apart.” He held that hand and wouldn’t let go as their eyes met. “Remember what a fucking slave whore you are, wench.” The way he emphasized the word fucking made her worry for an instant that someone might have heard him. But that fear fled quickly when he spoke again – she was zeroed in on him too much to care about anybody else. “Feel those marks as you walk. Remember how they got there, every cut of the whip, every cringing response. Don’t forget who owns you.”

Every word he spoke thrilled her. Every word put her deeper into subspace.

She smiled warmly. “How could I, Master?” she whispered.

The weight of whatever he dropped in her palm, and now carried tightly in her fist, eased her as she made her way across the restaurant dining room to the Ladies lounge.

For a moment, she flashed back to Nice, to another luxurious evening of awakening senses, a world away from her now. How curiously her life had changed since then. That was just the beginning, and now? Now, with Jack, everything was new again. Everything part of an unfolding mystery.

When Jeni returned from the restroom, the small brass ball and chain Jack handed her at the table hung from her clit ring, alongside the tag. When she walked, she heard the two metals jingle between her legs from time to time, although the sound was a whole lot like the jangling of rich women’s bracelets, and the clink of crystal and silverware. No one would know but her, and Jack – if he heard the sound at all. On the other hand, the wicked porn side of Jeni wondered what it would be like if she walked naked through that dining room exposed for what she was. So everyone could see the truth of slave before their gawking eyes.

She smiled to herself as the image passed through her mind, though she’d never share that kinky fantasy with Jack. Some thoughts are just too extreme to disclose – even to your master – and it was a fleeting one at that.

“I like the way that brass ball feels, Master. You’ll like the way it pulls down on my clit when you see it.”

“A bit of a tug, huh?”

“Tug? More like weighty,” she laughed. “No doubt it’s there.”

She sat again, looking into his eyes with more affection than fear or apprehension. The man was genius; he’d pulled off every trick with such amazing aplomb.

The table had been cleared while she was gone. Moments later, two dishes of ‘amazing’ arrived, set on the linen table cloth before them. The confection was creamy and sweet, chocolaty, but light, with a hint of lemon. Like nothing else that she’d ever eaten, like dessert in France, which was notoriously amazing, like tasting something the gods would eat. She wondered if it would taste so divine if she were eating it while sitting in front of the TV in tattered jeans and an old sweatshirt.

She was aloft in a sensuous subspace when the background music changed, and the raspy sound of John Lennon singing Stand By Me to a sexy syncopated beat, hit their ears. The sudden and unexpected had been part of this perfect evening. And now, without having thought about dancing in years, she suddenly want to drag her master to the dance floor, press her vibrating crotch against his warm one, and feel his hot cock rising to the occasion. She was beaming at the idea.

“How about dancing?” She was surprised she had the courage to ask. Perhaps this was not slavish behavior, but she was so deeply into the idea of dancing again that she didn’t think twice about asking.

“Been a long time since I’ve danced.”

“Me too.” She leaned in closer. “Wouldn’t you like to feel that little sucker of a bullet vibrating against your cock?” Her heart seemed to swell, along with her arousal. She loved him in that moment, and damn, she didn’t care if he knew or not – though she wasn’t brave enough to say that word, love.

“That might be interesting,” he said. And so he swept her up to the small dance floor where several other couples were already dancing to that slow, syncopated beat.

They pressed themselves together, Jeni reveling in the sexy swagger of his hips as he moved. The body memory of days at high school dances when they were young returned to them both. She was young like that again with Jack. And yet the music, the raspy voice, the reminder of the song sobered her. Stand By Me. And all that it implied. Reality at midlife wasn’t the same as it was when she was younger. It was better, and worse, and it was what she had now that her old life had vanished. Tonight, her new life couldn’t have been more perfect.

He pulled her crotch against his groin with a hand on her ass, so that their bodies were fused together and quite literally vibrating with lust. And when they looked into each other’s eye, both were amused. When she felt his pulsing cock, she smiled, and he squeezed her ass with that groping hand.

Referring to that hand, she murmured in his ear, “You don’t think that’s a bit too risqué for this place?”

“I think you belong to me, and whatever I do you just let it happen.”

And so they danced while lost in their happy bliss, until Jack was ready to move on. He led her back to their table. A few minutes later, he paid the bill and they left the restaurant, arm in arm.

***

They stood on a street corner, on a deserted city block, nearly midnight now. They’d just climbed from the Jeep to the sidewalk.

Jeni looked at Jack, wary and suspicious, a big why in her eyes. Why would he bring her here to this rundown part of town after the elegant drama of the last few hours? Another mystery and one she never expected.

Jack looked up at the blinking neon sign on the building in front of them, pink and green flashing against the old brick walls of the downtown hotel. “This is where we spend the night,” he announced.

“Really?” She didn’t understand.

In response to the skeptical expression on her face, he said, “I pay attention to your stories. Seemed this night was perfect for a cheap motel. The kind of romance you love.”

Romance? He actually spoke of romance! Almost as fine a word as love.

Jeni smiled so big she thought her face might break if that smile got any bigger. And then she laughed – that he would think of the cheap hotels in her erotic stories on a night like this. He was paying attention; he didn’t lie.

“Don’t worry, I’ve made sure there are no bedbugs or spiders. It’s surprisingly clean.”

“I’m sure it’s perfect,” and she took his arm as they walked inside.

The hallway of the third floor was served by a single incandescent light-bulb, illuminating dark and shabby in a way nothing else could. The carpet was worn and the air was musty, though there was a clean, medicinal scent, too.

Their room was small and plain, though quite unlike the small and plain of the Motel 6 down the road. A green chenille spread covered the bed, nearly threadbare now but not quite. There was a ceiling fan above, bare hardwood beneath their feet and a rosy glow all around from the neon sign outside, blinking though the thin curtain.

Jack sat down in the one chair – which was old and threadbare, too, but comfortable enough to hold him while he stared at her still dressed as she had been all night, not a stitch, not a trinket removed. He’d already shed his coat and shirt, exuding a bit of a Stanley Kowalski Brando vibe, sitting there so sexy and so remote. There were thoughts in his mind and an almost sullen look on that sexy face. Should be smoking a cigarette to be authentic, she thought, although she was glad he was not, even if it would have added to the ambience of the dreamy moment.

“How ‘bout you get naked, wench?” he suggested – not a suggestion but an order. She should have been used to standing before him in a situation like this. She’d been through the ritual numerous times with specific orders to obey, but she was as self-conscious and jittery now as it was that first time on her porch.

“That’s not question, is it, Master?”

“No, slave. It’s not,” he replied. “Now start with the dress.”

“You sure do know how to create the perfect mood.” She was thinking out loud here. “All we’re missing is some cheap booze.”

He nearly smiled at the idea. “Sorry, there’s not,” he said, genuinely regretting that he’d not thought about that detail. “Now, let’s get back to the dress.”

Gulping back her fear, she reached back, fumbling with the tiny hook and eye at the top of the neck, having no luck getting the two apart. “I might need some help,” she said.

“Okay then, kneel and I’ll take care of it.”

Getting to the floor knees was awkward and uncomfortable, even with the small throw rug beside the bed providing some cushion for her knees. Thankfully, Jack was quick with the hook and eye. That done, he yanked the zipper down, and while still kneeling Jeni pulled the dress up over her head. She tossed it to the bed and rose to her feet, displaying her decked out body for her master’s approval.

As he looked her over, he concentrated his attention on her pussy, the dangling tag and the brass ball beside it. He reached out and tugged down on the ball. “You like the way it feels?”

“I do.”

“Then you’ll keep it. Wear it when I tell you to. Just an added reminder of who owns you.” He tugged at it a little longer then sat back. “Now the bra.” Once her bra joined the dress on the end of the bed he told her to step closer.

Closer meant close enough for him to reach around her waist and disconnect the straps that held the bullet in place, allowing it to fall out into his hand. He placed the tangled mess on the nightstand beside him then unhooked the garter-belt. Once she kicked her heels aside, he slowly drew each stocking down her leg until he pulled it off her foot, at which point, she was appropriately naked, left in nothing but body jewelry and nipple ties.

Jack drew her closer still, parting her labia and pulling the tag and ball from between her nether lips. With his hands on her ass, he brought her crotch toward his face and began to suck her clit. There was nothing gentle about the act. He bore down with his teeth, tugged her clit aggressively and sucked the swollen bud until she shrieked. And he didn’t let up – although, she didn’t need him to be gentle, not as hot as her body was now. She began to cum in powerful, almost painful spasms, that ripped through her body with the power of a thundering storm. She grabbed his shoulders for support. While she writhed against his face, he drew his mouth back pulling her clit out with his teeth, and just kept on pulling until she was practically screaming and almost delirious. The two went on this way until, at last, the rough spasms finally died away.

Afterwards, the mood abruptly shifted. He pushed her back toward the bed, rose to his feet, shucked his pants, and lay down on the bed, legs wide open. Knowing what he wanted without his having to say so, she crawled to him and took his cock into her mouth and down her throat as far as it would go. Even when she gagged, as she always did, she went back for more and gagged again. She would do this until he came, but then he suddenly flipped over to his stomach. Again, she knew what that meant. She spread his cheeks wide and went down between them with her mouth, lavishing her adoring attention on his ass. The beastly act made her pussy pulse with life again. Such slavish depravity made her so hot that she was cumming again with an involuntary response she couldn’t help – though it was a more subtle kind of cum. This was what he did to her. Jack. Master. Didn’t matter how she thought of him. It mattered only that she’d reduced herself to slave and gave herself to him with no reservations and no hesitation – just as it had been five months before when they first began, and every time thereafter.

Once on his back again, Jeni continued the impassioned blowjob, pulling out every trick she knew to have him hard and in a feverish state. The position was awkward and difficult to manage; and she worked with such mindless determination that her muscles began to ache. However, with the first sweet taste of cum on her lips, she dove in again with renewed resolve to bring her master the reward they both were after. Any second he would explode into orgasm. The slurping, sucking blowjob continued until minutes later, Jack’s cum flooded into her mouth, so much of it that she couldn’t swallow it all. There was no time to gulp it down and what she couldn’t consume dripped out onto his crotch.

For a long while after the last spasm, she lay between his legs and just lapped at his flagging cock for fun. Then she crawled up on his body and lay on top of him, nestling into his nakedness with her pussy pressing into his flagging organ. She lovingly kissed his lips, and he kissed her back in a rare display of tender affection she would remember long after this magical night was over.

“Thank you, Master,” she said, then she sank into this body, overcome with exhaustion as she came down from the beautiful high.

“It’s time you slept, slave,” he finally said.

“I think so, too,” she murmured. She rolled off to his side and snuggled in close. With his arm around her, they drifted off, the neon sign blinking pink and green spreading its soft glow through the dark night.