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Anticipation
The flight had gone smoothly, but the boarding had
been a little bumpy. Becky was traveling light, she brought exactly what
Charlie allowed, a dark sweater, a rather conservative knee length skirt, and
brown sandals. That was all. She needed her driver’s license to board the
plane, but she would turn that over to him as soon as he picked her up.
She
had no luggage. That must have been a red flag for the TSA Officer because he
picked her out of the passengers for a special screening. She stood with her
feet spread and arms held out while he swept her with his electronic wand. The
damn thing let out a sharp little beep each time it passed over her breasts.
Damn! She’d totally forgotten about her nipple
rings. How could anyone be that stupid?
The officer led her to an alcove and told her not to
worry it was usually just an under-wire bra that set the wand off.
“It’s not a real problem ma’am, you can just pull
the bra off and I’ll check it and hand it back to you.”
She stood in the alcove her back to the guard
listening to the bustle of the concourse and the calls to begin boarding her
flight.
“I can’t.” she said shaking her head miserably.
“Don’t be embarrassed ma’am, most women can do it
without even taking off their blouse. You’re alone in the alcove, I’m out here,
no one can see.”
“You don’t understand. I don’t have a bra on.”
“Then what the hell set off my wand?” he demanded.
“My, jewelry…” Becky whispered, suddenly aware of
just how awkward this situation might become.
“Well take it off and hand it out.” The security guard snapped.
Her fingers fumbled under her sweater, loosening the
capture bead to open the hoops up, Becky gently worked the rings free, first
her right nipple, then her left one. The guard was waiting impatiently. When
she deposited the two rings into his palm a grin spread across his face. He ran
the wand over both nipple rings and listened to the familiar beep then he all
but stroked her breasts with the wand and …silence.
“Yup you’re clean now, ma’am.” He proclaimed with a
snicker.
“And now that you know these will trigger an alarm
ma’am,” He said as he handed the two bits of jewelry back.
“You’ll want to remember it next time you fly.” He
felt bold enough to swat her fanny with his wand as she fled the alcove.
“Asshole.” she mumbled as she ran toward the
boarding gate, but her thoughts were moving ahead.
Charlie hadn’t told her not to wear them, but that
was hardly an excuse. He had told her what she could bring, and the nipple
rings weren’t on his list. Becky briefly considered throwing them away, He’d
never need to know, but that wasn’t a real option.
The nipple rings were Charlie’s property, he let her
keep them only because they meet so rarely, quite often on the phone, or on the
net, he would direct her to put them on.
They had only met four times in person over the last
two years. They had however talked endlessly on the net, in PMs, and by phone.
She hoped he was the one meant for her, but she knew with complete certainty
that she would always be his. It was her earnest hope that he would understand
her need, and permit her to realize that aspiration.
When he allowed her to visit him he wanted her
stripped of all that she found familiar. That way she could more easily feel
herself completely his. She could not lie to him, she would tell him about the
nipple rings.
There
was a moment of trepidation when she landed. What would happen if he weren’t
there? She had no money, no credit cards, nothing, not even her ticket home.
Once she set out on these journeys she was completely dependent on him. It was
worrisome, and at the same time somehow liberating, to surrender total control
of your destiny. She took the leap of faith, and he had always been there to
fulfill her needs. Her emotions see-sawed, the faith in her master countered
the gnawing doubt that she might ever deserve him, the anticipation of joy, and
the guilt for doubting, it all bubbled up within her soul as she rose from her
seat and headed down the aisle.
He was at the gate waiting for her.
She ran to him in her excitement. It was, after all,
only their fifth meeting. True, in the last two years they had talked more and
done more together than a lot of couples who had lived together for ten years.
She had almost reached him, arms wide and skipping like a giddy schoolgirl,
when his eyes stopped her.
What on earth was she thinking? There were
protocols! She slowed to a stumbling halt, eyes downcast, hoping he wouldn’t
make her kneel in front of the entire crowded terminal. He silently held out
his hand and she handed over her driver’s license, the last official bit of her
ordinary life. With an impulsive gesture she placed the two cold rings in his
outstretched palm as well.
His eyebrows arched inquisitively as he glanced down
at the nipple rings with mild surprise.
“My, my! How quickly we forget our place.”
His voice, sounding to her like a lustful growl,
sent shivers through her belly. Her face flushed at this mildest of reprimands.
Then he was taking her in his arms, lifting her to him, his mouth finding hers.
Her lips went slack. Helplessly she opened to him, inviting his penetration. He
was content to simply draw the breath from her. She was on her tiptoes his arms
wrapping her tightly and his mouth sealing hers drawing her into him and she
felt lightheaded. After a full minute he reluctantly released her. She felt
dizzy; warmth and moisture had gathered at her core, threatening to dribble
down her inner thighs.
He turned without another word and led the way to
the parking garage; she followed dazedly. Becky was aware of what would happen
next, what he had always done whenever they meet, still it was hard to prepare
and her apprehension mounted.
‘No one knows me here; I’ll never see them again.’
She silently whispered that mantra over and over in
her mind. Her eyes were downcast following his boots, dreading the moment when
he would stop, turn, and face her; and then he'd stopped.
He opened the car door, reached inside, and turned
back toward her.
“Kneel!”
he barked. His voice was loud enough to be heard across the parking garage. Try
as she might she just couldn’t help but look up and around. It seemed the area
was deserted, after a brief hesitation she sank to her knees in front of him.
He had, of course, noted her hesitancy. She knew what that would mean later.
Becky sighed complacently as the cold metal collar
closed around her neck. Despite her weaknesses, her imperfections, her
hesitation, Charlie still wanted her. He still sought to make her, his own. He
took her hand and raised her up holding the car door open for her. Becky
quickly slipped off her skirt. Charlie took it, barely keeping his hands off
her naked hips. Becky sat to remove her sandals. He enjoyed this ritual, a
stripping away of her meager defenses.
Charlie placed these items in a knapsack along with
her license and tossed them into the back seat. She sat upright, trying to look
comfortable wearing only a sweater and the cold metal collar. For the time
being the collar marked her for what she was, his possession. That was what
this weekend meeting was all about, marking her as his property. They had
talked about it for months. Now he wanted her to accept a more permanent symbol
of his ownership. She found the idea both delightful and terrifying.
The drive took over an hour. She was shamefully
aware of the brief trip through fast food drive-up; a gawking teenager working
the window getting an eager eyeful nearly dropping the food as he passed the
bag to Charlie. Charlie fed her, driving
with one hand on the wheel, holding her sandwich with the other. Becky took
dainty nibbles, finishing only half the meal. She was too nervous to be hungry,
even though she’d skipped breakfast that morning.
Finally, she saw the faded sign for the "Cozy
Cove Cabins". They had arrived. Charlie stopped at the office. She waited
in the car. He had reserved their cabin, number six, which stood alone and a
little bit back from the lakeshore. They
liked the privacy but that wasn’t going to be a problem this weekend. The
leaves had already fallen and hunting season was still weeks away. The tourists
were gone and they had the place to themselves.
Charlie drove down the narrow dirt path then
carefully backed up to the cabin. He opened the car door for her. The car stood
between her and the owners lodge, but she was still very self-conscious about
being outside with her bare bottom.
“Wait here, while I unpack.” Charlie ordered.
Becky was grateful for those few moments. The
distant sound of waves lapping on the rocky lakeshore and the dry rustle of
fallen leaves seemed intent on soothing her. She stood confused, collared,
wearing nothing but her thin brown sweater. Despite her desire, her anxiety was
growing. She leaned back against a tall oak feeling the rough texture of its
bark against her naked bottom. The tree had shaded the cabin in warmer weather
but it was bare now, as naked as she soon would be. Still, its raw strength
lent her support. She could be strong too. She drew a deep breath taking in the
smells of autumn, and wishing she could keep this moment frozen forever.
When Charlie finished unpacking the car he came for
her. By the cabin door he made her kneel. She raised her arms and he grabbed
the hem of her sweater, pulling it up over her head. It snagged on her collar
for a moment then pulled free. Becky shivered as the cool autumn air encircled
her chest, her nipples tightening into prominent points. She bent forward to
offer him her wrist, crossed behind her back, ready for binding. He
straightened her hands pressing the palms together and then fastened a pair of
thumb cuffs on her.
Becky marveled at how such a tiny mechanical device
could leave her so utterly helpless.
He held her by the elbow and guided his naked prize
into the cabin. It was all so familiar. The interior showed the original log
cabin walls. The cabin was sparsely furnished, a brass bed that hadn’t seen
polish in decades, a small table and two chairs. On the right side was a
kitchenette unit, a propane stove, small fridge and sink. The shower stall and
toilet were closeted off beyond that. A stuffed deer head over the door and a
three-bulb chandelier made of entwined antlers were the only nod to decor. In
its crude simplicity the place had an unabashedly masculine air. She had
entered a male preserve, it made Becky feel timid, vulnerable, and she drew
closer to Charlie, for protection.
He pulled out the nipple rings and held them in his
palm once more.
“Why would you bring these?” He asked his tone mild.
“I forgot I was wearing them.” She explained.
“And yet you weren’t wearing them when you arrived.”
So she told him about the security check. How the
officer who had made her remove them. She spoke in a monotone her eyes lowered.
He asked about every minute detail of the encounter, enjoying her deepening
blush. He pressed her about her feelings as she’d gone through the humiliating
ordeal. She answered him with candor, her eyes downcast, unsure if he was
angered or amused. Finally he moved on.
“You hesitated.” He stated flatly. He was, of
course, referring to the airport garage.
“Yes Sir, I’m sorry.” She responded knowing what was
coming next.
“I’ll need to punish you.” He told her in a serious
tone that belied the grin on his face.
“Yes Master, I need it.” She said with great
formality.
Charlie led her to the side of the bed, pressed her
shoulders down, and pushed her legs wide apart.
Becky turned her head to the left, looking up into
the glassy eyed deer head hanging above the door. She found no sympathy there.
She smiled when she glanced back and noticed that Charlie was naked now. He
rummaged through his toy bag and returned with a short handled flogger. He
gently ran his fingers over her tautly stretched buttocks scraping lightly with
his fingernails. Becky moaned and wiggled helplessly against the quilted
bedspread.
“Fifty will do, I think.” He told her, “but we’ll
just do your back and thighs. Your bottom’s to be marked tomorrow I want it
unblemished when we begin.”
Becky shuddered, as if a girl didn’t have enough to
worry about. Fifty was a lot, but Charlie was very good with the flogger. He
was true to his word, sparing her bottom but striking her thighs with vigor.
The back was a little more difficult because the thumb cuffs kept her arms
pulled back leaving only a narrow target. In fact her arms did suffer a few
collateral swats. Becky writhed; face down on the bedspread, moaning as the
flogger worked its magic.
He never did reach fifty, not that she was counting.
She was sobbing and squirming when he tossed the flogger down and grabbed her
hips.
Some things just shouldn’t be put off. Becky was
pushed forward across the width of the bed as he slammed into her again and
again. She felt her inner heat grow as her nipples roughly rubbed against the
quilted bedspread each time he drove into her
Afterward they lay curled on the bed together. He
hadn’t removed her thumb cuffs and she teasingly stroked him with her bound
hands as she snuggled back against him. He absently reached around her to
fondle her breast while nuzzling her neck.
Perhaps he dozed: she did. In any event the sun was
sinking when he finally roused himself. He pulled on pants and started supper.
The smells woke Becky. He always cooked for them, tonight it was beef tips,
mushrooms, and shallots in a butter and burgundy reduction served on a mixture
of wild and brown rice. He added steamed snow peas and red peppers for a splash
of color.
He served a single plate. With a gesture he had her
kneel by his side. Becky assumed her position, knees apart, breasts thrust
forward, and hands still constrained behind her back. He feed her bits of meat
from his hand and she licked his fingers clean. Eventually he set his plate on
the seat next to him.
“Good girl.” He said, nodding toward the plate.
She knew what he wanted, what would please him. Her
pride was no obstacle and if he wanted to feed her like a pet she was willing
to act the part. Becky rose up on her knees bent forward; she actually waggled
her butt as she buried her face in the offered plate. She took dainty bites at
first, but soon was eagerly gobbling the food down as she realized just how
hungry she really was. Besides, he was a very good cook. He gave her bottom a
playful swat when he felt she’d had enough. She sank back down on her haunches.
Charlie gently wiped her face clean and kissed her. He unshackled he thumbs and
ordered her to clean up the kitchen.
Becky savored the bit of freedom, sweeping up and
then washing the dishes, pots, and pans. It seemed so innocently domestic,
except of course she was wearing a collar and nothing more. When the dishes
were done Becky teasingly bent forward over the sink, spreading her feet and
going up on her tiptoes, she lewdly displayed herself, her bottom swaying
rhythmically. Becky looked over her shoulder coyly but there was no need.
“Insatiable little slut.” Charlie scolded as he
dragged her to the table and bent her over, once more face down.
“I believe we left off at 27,” Charlie explained as
his hand slapped down on her exposed rump. His concern for her unblemished
bottom only extended to welts; a brisk hand warming wouldn’t cause any
problems. He went to work on her saucy little bottom until she was crying and
hopping from foot to foot. Once he was satisfied with the color, he reached
back into his toy bag and brought out a familiar tube.
Becky gasped when she felt the cold lubricant work
its way between her inflamed cheeks. The stark contrast made her clasp down on
the invading finger as it wormed its way into her.
Of course, she thought, his next conquest would be
her tight little bottom. With a contented sigh she reached back and held her
cheeks apart for him. He eagerly sank into her, filling her so completely that
she was close to tears. Charlie tried to restrain himself but her bottom was so
deliciously warm and tight, he was soon ramming away like a horny bull while Becky
groaned and shuddered underneath his assault.
Finally Charlie emptied himself deep inside her snug
rectum and pulled away. Becky lay across the tabled feeling stretched, abused,
and totally debauched. It was wonderful!
They showered together and he patted her dry kissing
and nibbling her exposed flesh. Before they went to bed he insisted that she
put on her nipple rings. Excitement gave way to exhaustion and she slept at his
side.
Becky woke in the morning to find him toying with
her rings. Despite last evenings activities he stood thick and throbbing. She
scampered off the bed and knelt beside it. Becky teasingly licked and nibbled
at his stretched cock, finally he got up and stood erect and pulsating before
her. His hands wrapped into her hair behind her head as he drew her forward.
Obediently she swallowed him down, pulling him deep into her throat. They
rested there a moment even though she couldn’t breath. At last he withdrew
enough for her to draw in air through her nose before he plunged forward again.
He stroked leisurely in and out until his excitement grew and then his tempo
built to a crescendo. She tried to swallow every precious drop. A milky strand
connected them for a moment as he pulled away then, stretched to its limit; it
broke and fell across her chin. She licked her lips eagerly.
Charlie made a simple breakfast eggs, toast, juice
and coffee. He allowed Becky to sit at the table and use silverware this time.
After the meal she cleaned up and then sat at the table with him. They had a few
things to talk over.
They had already discussed the options for her
marking. A tattoo seemed permanent enough. The design and placement were
Charlie’s decision as far as she was concerned.
He showed her a colored picture of the tattoo; a
twisting pale green vine formed the initials CS with a vivid yellow rose inside
the C. Becky was enthralled with its beauty.
He explained that a local tattoo artist would come to the cabin to do
the work.
The other option was just as permanent, maybe more
so. It was that simple brutal statement of ownership as ancient as the
institution of slavery. He showed her the brand; the initials CS worked in cold
iron about an inch and a half high. It rested on the table the short metal
handle sitting on an oven mitt. Charlie lifted it for her to inspect.
“Which will it be Becky?” Charlie asked. “After all
it is your bottom.” She wasn't crazy. She knew which she would prefer, but it
wasn’t her choice, nor for that matter was it really her bottom. It belonged to
him, wasn’t that the point? Becky said as much. She should have known better
than to contradict her master especially when he was being so generous.
Becky
lay face down on the bed, tightly bound spread-eagled. His finger had traced a
spot on her right buttock then trailed lower teasing her nether lips apart
making them grow warm and thick until they parted in a yearning gap.
"Maybe you need to think on this luv. You
shouldn't be testing my good nature at this late date."
Without another word he left her. That seemed hours
ago. She twisted uncomfortably as she waited. A stranger was coming who would
see her bound and naked. He would repetitively jab his ink stained needles into
her naked bottom while Charlie looked on. It would hurt, she was sure of that.
But the alternative, to feel the sharp kiss of glowing iron, she shuddered and
drove the thought from her mind.
Oh God, what would be going through her lover's
mind?
No! She was being presumptuous, he was her master,
and she only dreamed he would become her lover, master was enough for any
devoted slave. What would her master be thinking as he allowed this stranger to
work on the very flesh that he now claimed as his own? And how would he mark
her? Why on earth hadn't she chosen when he allowed it?
The answer came to her in the simple clarity of his
smile.
It was his decision! As it always should be.
In the distance she heard a car door slam.