Prologue

 

                  The message kept running through his mind. Was it a prank? Who sent it? What did it mean? He had picked up the phone to call the number several times. Each time he had paused, unwilling to make a fool of himself.

                  The envelope had arrived at his office several days ago with no return address. Opening it, he discovered a cream note card with a plain black border. Written on the card in a feminine hand was a cryptic message. It read:

                  “William, I know what you need.”

                  A phone number was written under the single line of text. He almost threw it in the trash, but at the last moment he dropped it into his desk drawer, and continued sorting out those items that required his immediate attention.

                  Now, after almost a week of it preying on his mind, he decided he had to find out what the message meant. If it made him a laughingstock, so be it. At least he would be able to sleep again. He picked up the phone and dialed the number on the card.

                  A throaty, feminine voice answered. “William, you got my card.”

                  “Yes.”

                  “Are you ready to learn more?”

                  “Yes.”

                  “Good. I’ll be in touch.” The drone of a dial tone filled the silence before he could form a reply. He called the number repeatedly for the next two weeks. There was no answer. After that, he received a recorded message indicating the number was no longer in service.

1           Discovery

 

                  William cursed as he saw the red and blue lights ignite behind him. Pulling to the curb, he reached for his registration in the glove compartment. As he did so, a uniformed policewoman stepped up to his side of the car, holding a flashlight and said, “Sir, please step out of the vehicle.”

                  “What’s the problem, officer?” William asked, fishing out the registration.

                  “Please just step out of the car, sir,” the officer repeated. William reluctantly exited into the cold, rainy darkness.

                  Shining her flashlight, she directed him onto the sidewalk, then ordered, “Face the fence, and place your hands on it, away from your body.”

                  Stunned, William began to turn around, but the policewoman grabbed his shoulder and shoved him up against the wet chain-link fence. “Spread ‘em,” she commanded, roughly kicking his legs apart. William slowly raised his hands, confusion and annoyance warring on his face.

                  “Ma’am,” said William, “can you please tell me what I’ve done?”

                  Instead of an answer, William felt a cold steel bracelet wrap around his left wrist, then his arm was twisted behind his back. A strong hand grasped his other wrist, bringing it behind him as well, locking it into the cuff’s mate.

                  Alarmed, William asked, “Will you please tell me why I am being detained?”

                  Once again, he received no answer, as the police officer silently frisked him, relieving him of his cell phone, wallet, and car keys. “Sir, please step into the police car,” she ordered, as though she hadn’t heard a word he’d said.

                  Seeing no alternative, William moved toward the police cruiser. The officer opened the door and guided him into the car, making sure his head did not connect with the doorframe. After he was seated in the back of the car with the door closed, the woman took his keys and locked the car, then returned to her cruiser. She took a deep, steadying breath. Months of work and planning had gone into this traffic stop, and she was eager to learn how the subject would respond.

                  Uncomfortable with his hands fastened behind him, William tried again. “What precinct are you taking me to? The courthouse isn’t open this late.”

* * *

                  The officer smiled as she remembered the first time she saw William. It was at the District Courthouse, and he was obviously late for an appointment. Hurrying through the corridor, he brushed past her without a glance. Only feet away, he bumped into a young Asian secretary, causing her stack of papers to splash across the floor. Bending down to help retrieve the papers, he had gifted her with a perfect view of an amazing behind. Taut and sculpted without being overdone, the wool of his trousers caressed one of the best bottoms she had ever seen. Though he didn’t know it, that view of his behind had led directly to this evening.

                  It had taken her almost four months, but her homework had been thorough. Finding out who he was had been simple; tracking his movements and known associates had not. Slowly, key information had been gathered, and it told her what she needed to know. He was in private practice, made very good money and paid his staff generously, though he, himself, lived modestly. He was single, never married, though he had once been engaged. He gave generously to charities, especially those that supported children. He was well liked and respected by his peers. He had a married sister living in California, but no other close relatives. His parents were both deceased.

                  He didn’t smoke, drank in moderation, and confined his betting to wagers on Redskins games with a few close friends. He dated fairly frequently, but had no long-standing attachments. He was a Candidate, and his methodical, predictable lifestyle had yielded a treasure trove of information that she was now ready to put to use.

                  For instance, she knew that tonight William was on his way home to his three-bedroom house in the suburbs, where he lived alone. It was Friday night, so he would head straight home, heat up a microwave dinner, and read or watch TV. The policewoman however, had different plans for the evening. And for him.

* * *

                  Checking her prisoner in the rear view mirror, she continued to say nothing as she began driving to her destination. As they traveled away from the city center, towards dirtier, more rundown neighborhoods, William’s apprehension increased.

                  “What’s going on here?” he questioned. “Where are you taking me?” Trying to rein in his nervousness, he realized they were not going to a police station. He looked out the window again, and quickly discovered that he was lost. He had no idea where they were, and had not paid attention to how they got here.

                  ‘Okay, think,’ he told himself. ‘What can I do to gain control of this situation?’ Locked in the back of a police cruiser with his hands cuffed behind him, William grudgingly admitted the only thing he could do was bide his time and wait for the situation to change. He was concerned, but, as usual, his curiosity was peaked. Curiosity was William’s major character flaw, and it had produced some interesting stories over the years.

                  Eventually, the car turned off the blacktop onto a gravel road leading to a large, dark warehouse. The building was obviously abandoned, with broken windows and ‘No Trespassing’ signs attesting to its disused state. Pulling around back, the officer parked the car next to a rear entrance, where her car and passenger were out of sight of the road.

                  Opening the rear door, she absentmindedly murmured, “Watch your head,” as she pulled William out of the vehicle. Reaching for something inside, she closed the door.

                  “Down on your knees,” she ordered him.

                  William looked at her as though she was out of her mind. “What? You don’t expect me to get down in that?” he asked, looking at the runnels and puddles of water and mud at his feet.

                  “Get down on your knees, William, or I will plant you face first in the mud,” the officer stated flatly, an edge to her voice.

                  Outraged, but believing her threat, William obeyed her directive, grimacing as the cold water penetrated his woolen trouser legs. Scowling at the gritty goo coating his legs and shoes, William took the opportunity to look more closely at his captor. Apparently in her late twenties or early thirties, she was about five and a half tall, and she looked strong and sturdy. She wasn’t model thin. Instead she looked soft and curvy. Her blonde hair was cut bluntly at shoulder length, and her hands looked strong and capable. Unable to determine the color of her eyes in the uncertain light, William noted a strong, heart-shaped face with high cheekbones and deep-set eyes.

                  Walking around behind him, the woman reached over his head, and drew a black fabric blindfold over his eyes, fastening it securely behind his head. At the sudden loss of his sight William froze, truly panicking for the first time since this bizarre evening began.

                  “P-please take the blindfold off,” he whispered raggedly, “I’ll cooperate—do whatever you want.”

                  The policewoman knew his history, and knew this would be a difficult test for him, but she had to know whether he could control himself.

                  Gently caressing the nape of his neck, she responded, “Yes, William, you will. And right now, I want you to stand up. You will wear the blindfold until I decide to take it off, and you will do what you are told to do.”

                  Confused and frightened, William had no choice but to obey, as firm hands guided him to his feet, and began chivvying him toward the warehouse. Slowly, haltingly, William placed one foot in front of the other, expecting to fall or bang into something at any moment. It took all his concentration to rein in his panic.

                  They entered the building through a creaking door, and a musty smell of disuse assailed William’s senses. Quickly, she hustled him forward into the waiting jaws of an elevator. Stumbling, William gasped in pain as his elbow cracked against the adjacent wall. The elevator lurched to its feet, and began the slow ascent to the second floor. Unprepared and disoriented, William sank to his knees. Breathing hard, he struggled to control his alarm.

                  The elevator stopped, and he was jerked roughly through its doors. Guiding him through a maze of turns, she finally brought him to a halt and spun him around saying, “There is a chair directly behind you. Sit down.”

                  William bent his knees and slowly lowered himself until his thighs encountered the chair. His arms were abruptly pulled back and up, then down again, and he realized he was sitting on a straight-backed chair with his arms behind the chair back. He heard a metallic click, then the sound of her walking around in front of him. Settling himself back more comfortably, William realized his handcuffs were now somehow attached to the chair.

                  Heart pounding, William attempted to gain control of the situation. “So,” he said, “are we finally here? Do you feel like telling me what this is all about now, or are we going to play ‘Twenty Questions?’ I’m obviously not able to play ‘Charades’ at the moment.”

                  “Very good, William,” she murmured, pleased at his response. “It is time for some answers, so here they are. First, we are in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere. There is no one here but us; no one will hear you shout. Next, as long as you behave and follow instructions, you will not be harmed. And last, when this is all over, you will be returned to your car and permitted to go on your way.”

                  “Who are you? What do you want from me? Is it money?”

                  “My name? Tonight I am the ‘Mistress of your Fate’. As for what I want from you…” She straddled his lap, cradled his face in her hands, and lowered her mouth to his, planting a soft, heated kiss on his lips, “it’s not money.”

                  Startled, William pulled his head back, then submitted to the probing of her tongue, allowing her to deepen the gentle kiss. Taken aback by her actions, William waited warily for what would happen next. ‘This has got to be the strangest night of my life,’ William thought to himself. But at least it didn’t look like he was in any immediate danger.

                  The Mistress smiled, watching the consternation and confusion flit across William’s expressive face. Leaning back, she unbuttoned his suit jacket and slid it off his shoulders, bunching the sleeves tightly against his wrists and the handcuffs. Next, she loosened and removed his conservative silk tie, dropping it carelessly on the floor beside them. Finally, she untucked and began unbuttoning his white cotton shirt.

                  “Uh, just what do you think you are doing?” William asked in his most formidable courtroom voice.

                  Unfazed, she replied, “I’m having my way with you.”

                  Nonplussed, William had no comeback for the bald statement and lapsed back into silence. He supposed her reply made as much sense and anything else that had happened tonight. Although he was beginning to wonder if he had missed a rabbit hole around here somewhere.

                  Finishing her task and likewise bunching the shirt against his wrists and forearms, the Mistress exposed his lean, well-muscled chest. His nipples hardened immediately from the exposure and the cool air.

                  At five feet ten inches tall, William was almost face to face with her as she sat in his lap. His curly blond hair was expensively cut, and his light golden skin was without mark or suntan line.

                  “What—” William began.

                  She cut him off. “Shh,” she said, placing her finger to his lips. “No more questions.”

                  So far, she was delighted with William’s compliance. It would take time to learn his strengths and weaknesses, but his adaptability was already impressive. Yes, she had found a good Candidate. He was worth the time this was going to take.

                  She trailed her lips across the strong line of his jaw and nibbled on the sensitive skin below his ear. Moaning in response, William arched his head away from her, unwittingly exposing his throat to her tender mercies. Taking advantage, she trailed her tongue down to the hollow of his throat and across his collarbone.

                  Blind, he felt every soft nuance of her caresses, her warm breath teasing his skin. William reflected that he had never known how sensitive his skin was, but was finding out at a very inconvenient time. Against his will, he hardened, pressing against her thigh. Chuckling low in her throat, the Mistress shifted her attentions lower down his chest, her soft hands lightly caressing and leading the way, her hot breath and soft lips following their path.

                  First licking and then blowing on each nipple, she watched as they puckered in response. William sucked in a sharp breath as the sensation rippled all the way down to his groin. She noted his soft sigh, and bent down to catch one nipple between her teeth. Gently nipping him, she suckled softly, drawing a deep moan from his throat. Turning to the other nipple, she offered it the same treatment, causing William to shift against the chair.

                  She slowly moved down across his rippling abdomen, which he contracted as he sucked in another breath. William’s arms jerked reflexively, his breathing becoming more rapid, as she continued.

                  Eventually tracing the column of soft golden hairs that disappeared beneath his belt buckle, she turned her attention to William’s obvious erection. Gently gliding her hand over him, she could feel through the wool fabric that he was both well endowed and eager for her.

                  William hissed in pleasure and shifted his hips, pressing himself against her hand. Slowly caressing him, she felt him jerk and harden from her ministrations. Aroused and confused, William remained silent, afraid speaking would bring this unbelievable interlude to an end. All thought of controlling events had flown from his distracted mind as he lost himself in sensation.

                  Finally, the Mistress reached down, undid his waistband and opened his fly. Reaching one hand inside the folds of fabric, she cradled him gently in one hand. William sighed and arched his back, pressing his hips up and forward. Grinning, the Mistress released him and reached for the waistband of his pristine white jockey shorts. “Lift your hips for me, William,” she breathed. As he did so, she slid his trousers and shorts down around his ankles, and looked upon him for the first time. Living up to his promise, he was long and thick, and fully aroused. Rising out of a bed of dark blonde curls, he strained with desire. Engulfing him in her hands, she slowly stroked his satiny length. His gut tightened and he hissed as he inhaled in pleasure.

                  “What do you want, William,” she asked.

                  “You.”

                  “Be more specific. What do you want?”

                  ‘What I want is for you to take these damn cuffs off me so I can throw you to the ground and fuck your brains out,’ William thought to himself. “I want to have sex with you,” he replied instead.

                  “Very well, William.” She was pleased with his responsiveness so far, and wanted to begin conditioning him with rewards for good behavior. She unbuttoned her uniform shirt and pressed herself against him until his face lay in the valley between her breasts.

                  William inhaled the sweet, musky scent of her deeply, as he pressed his lips against her silky skin. He felt the lace of her bra graze his cheek as she caught her breath in response. He placed another kiss on her heated skin before she drew back from him.

                  A moment later he heard the distinctive sound of a foil wrapper being torn open, and then felt the cool touch of a condom as it was rolled down his length. Removing her trousers, the Mistress quickly straddled him, and lowered herself one inch at a time onto his bulging length. Gritting his teeth, William fought to hold it together. God, she was hot and tight. She slid smoothly and evenly up and down his length in a slow rhythm designed to drive him insane. Snapping his hips, William tried to drive into her harder, but she stopped and placed a hand on his chest.

                  “No, William, I’m driving, not you.”

                  Leaning back, William reluctantly allowed her to set the pace. It started out as an excruciatingly slow grind, as she rotated her hips above his in a way that tantalized but did not satisfy. Slowly she shifted into a rocking pattern and picked up speed. As her breathing and heartbeat increased, so did his need. Unable to stop himself, he thrust his hips up to meet her stroke for stroke. She rode him with increasing abandon until she cried out, shuddered and fell over the precipice into her climax. Straining to join her, William drove himself deeper into her, but again she placed her hand on his chest. “No, William,” she said breathlessly. He tried again, but she rose up off him, leaving him unsatisfied and bewildered.

                  “Have I done something wrong?” William asked, perplexed.

                  “If you want your own satisfaction, William, you must ask me for it,” the Mistress replied.

                  “Huh?”

                  “If you want me to satisfy you, William, you must ask for it. Say, ‘Please, Mistress, grant me my release,’” she instructed.

                  Thunderstruck, William’s mind went blank. He had never been in a situation like this one. “Please,” he begged.

                  “No, William. You must ask me for your release.”

                  Grudgingly giving in, William muttered, “Please, Mistress.”

                  “William, you can do better than that. If you want to come, you will beg ‘Please, Mistress, grant me my release,’” the Mistress insisted.

                  Gritting his teeth, William finally got the formula out in a manner acceptable to her. At once, she reached down and stripped off the condom.

                  “Hey,” William cried.

                  “Shh,” she whispered, placing her fingers against his lips. Kneeling down in front of him, she gently pressed his thighs farther apart, exposing him completely to her gaze. Cupping his buttocks in her hands, she pulled him to her, then leaned forward and gently licked him. William jumped in surprise, then relaxed as she continued to use short, soft, kitten licks all around and under his soft sac. He groaned as she gently sucked him into her mouth, first one side, then the other, her tongue swirling around him, tasting him for the first time. Shifting his hips forward, he strained to give her complete access.

                  The Mistress continued to take her time, licking every square centimeter of the tender area before finally moving up to the base of his shaft. Again, she softly, slowly licked her way from the base of his shaft to its tip, then swirled her tongue around him playfully. Clenching his hands, William was wild with need. He had never been this aroused in his life.

                  “Please, I can’t stand any more,” he pleaded.

                  Grinning, she decided he had had enough for his first time, and, forming a tight little O with her lips, she plunged down his shaft. Gasping, William stiffened at the wonderful feel of her mouth on him. Never had a blowjob felt this good. Using long, swift strokes, she milked him, her tongue all the while swirling around the sensitive under side of his length. When William finally found his release, she continued to suck him, intensifying the sensation.

                  Shuddering from the aftereffects of the most powerful climax of his life, William lay limp against the chair. Exhausted and gasping, he was unable to move or speak.

                  The Mistress stayed still, watching him, a small smile of triumph curving her lips. He was so responsive. She was looking forward to their future encounters.

                  Leaning up, she nudged his lips apart with her tongue, and plunged into his mouth with the most erotic kiss he had ever experienced. Her tongue taking control, she masterfully explored every crevice of his mouth, leaving him breathless and dizzy.

                  Abandoning his mouth to don her clothing, she waited for his breathing and heartbeat to return to normal, then she silently began dressing him. Once his tie was replaced and his suit jacket buttoned, she released the lock attaching his handcuffs to the chair and helped him to rise. She guided him back through the building and out to the police car. It had stopped raining, but the wind was cold, and she quickly deposited him in the back, then gained the driver’s seat.

                  Still bemused from his experience, William was content to rest in silence, not even curious where she was taking him. He had plenty to occupy his thoughts during the ride. Chief among them whether he was dreaming or not. Eventually she stopped the car and led him out and up onto a sidewalk.

                  “Kneel,” she ordered, and he obediently complied. Leaning down, she placed her hand on the back of his neck, kissed him tenderly, and then released his wrists. “Until next time,” she whispered.

                  By the time he realized she was leaving and removed the blindfold, all he saw was a police cruiser pulling back into the late evening traffic.

                  Sighing, William stood up and found his keys, phone, and wallet had all been returned to his suit pockets. On automatic pilot, he got into the car and began his drive home, wondering at the events of the evening. Most of all, he wondered if her parting words were a promise.

 

The Lawyer

By C. A. Taylor

2           The Mistress

 

                  Throughout the next two weeks, William thought back often to the evening in the warehouse, outrage warring with longing. ‘She kidnapped me!’ William fumed to himself. ‘She kidnapped me and chained me to a chair! Then what did she do? Oh, right, then she gave me the most mind-blowing orgasm of my life. What the hell?’

                  By turns confused, angry, and aroused, William dwelt not only on the events of that night, but also on how he had reacted to the situation. It was fine to say that there was no way to predict what would happen. That he was a civilized man who had not been raised to offer violence to a woman. Who respected the law and those who enforced it.

                  Yes, all of that was fine. Nevertheless, it didn’t explain why he had unresistingly gone along with her demands. Why he had followed her orders. How few questions he had asked. He hadn’t even really tried to control the situation. If he approached negotiations in his work as he had that evening, he’d be out of business.

                  So why had he been so willing to let her control the show? Why had he responded to her overt physicality with such passiveness? And why had she heated his blood more than any woman he had ever known?

                  Annoyed, William discovered he was once again daydreaming about that encounter when he should be looking over the case file sitting on his desk. Worst of all, William knew that although his mind might be confused, his body had no such problem. Again and again, he had awakened from dreams of that encounter, hard and aching.

                  Giving up trying to concentrate on work, he decided to leave the office early and put in some extra gym time. Maybe he could find a racquetball partner before the courts filled.

                  Arriving early, he nabbed a parking spot in the garage, and headed inside the upscale gym. To his delight, he found Jeremy Miller in the locker room, and challenged him to a game. Jeremy and he had both graduated from Harvard, William on a scholarship and Jeremy as the scion of New England old money. They had both accepted offers from the same large law firm, where Jeremy was now a junior partner in the Real Estate division. Jeremy’s wife, Greta, worked as William’s secretary, and they often spent time together, relaxing on the weekends and complaining about judges and clients.

                  Two hours later, relaxed and aching, he walked from the gym to his car, fumbling in his pocket for his keys.

                  A lone figure separated itself from the shadows behind him and silently approached.

                  “Hold it!” The policewoman whispered as she placed her hand on William’s neck. “Don’t turn around,” she grated, something hard digging into his back. Directing him with the hand at his nape, she walked him over to her police car, parked in the darkest corner of the garage.

                  Placing him to one side of her cruiser in front of the car hood, she stepped back. “Remove your coat and suit jacket,” she commanded.

                  William turned his head to look over his shoulder at her, and was stunned to see her pointing her service revolver at him.

                  “Turn around, William,” the officer ordered evenly. “Remove your coat and jacket, and stop making me repeat myself. Now place the clothing on the back seat of the car,” she continued with her program.

                  Once that was done, she told William to spread his legs and lean forward over the hood with his arms spread wide. He moved very carefully to carry out her orders. Tension was singing through his body, tightening his groin.

                  The policewoman quickly and professionally frisked him, again relieving him of his phone, keys, and wallet, then fastened his hands behind his back.

                  “Kneel, William.”

                  “You know, my pants were completely destroyed from doing this last time,” William bantered nervously.

                  “William,” she warned.

                  “Are you in the habit of kidnapping and raping random guys, or am I special?” he continued.

                  Turning him to face her, the policewoman pulled him to her and gently pressed her soft, warm lips to his. “I may have kidnapped you,” she admitted carelessly. “But there was no rape, William. You told me you wanted me, asked me for sex, and you begged me for your release. Your defense won’t hold up in court, counselor.”

                  William’s cheeks and neck heated as he remembered writhing under her and begging her to let him come.

                  The officer’s lips curved in a smile, following his thoughts. “Now, on your knees, William, and be silent, or I’ll gag you.”

                  Slowly obeying her orders, he barely had time to recognize another strip of black fabric coming at him before he was again blindfolded. William gasped as he once more fought down the panic that threatened to overwhelm him at the loss of his sight. Without delay, she raised him to his feet and placed him in the cruiser.

                  William remained silent during the ride. Controlling his panic, he thought back to the origins of his fear of absolute darkness.

                  He had been seven and Katie five. They had snuck out of the house, away from the babysitter they loathed, and headed for the junkyard.

                  They were strictly forbidden to go there, so of course it was their favorite haunt. They had been playing a game of hide-and-seek, he remembered. He didn’t remember what had startled them so badly, but they had both begun running, looking for someplace to hide. When William found the refrigerator, turned over on its side, it had seemed perfect.

                  They had crawled inside, and William had pulled the door closed on top of them. They had both been quiet and felt very safe until William tried to open the door. When he realized they were trapped in the darkness, the panic had descended. They had been trapped for over four hours before they were found. He had tried to comfort his baby sister, but the feelings of panic and helplessness in the dark had never left him.

                  Needing the distraction, William turned his thoughts to the policewoman driving the car. He couldn’t deny the excitement he felt at being handcuffed and again kidnapped by her. The physical proof of that excitement was pressing against his trousers. Arriving at their destination, William interpreted sounds indicating a garage door opening. Hearing the garage door roll shut, he was unsurprised when the engine cut off and he was hauled from the car.

                  Still blind and bound, he was pulled reluctantly through the garage, along a hallway, then down a flight of stairs.

                  The Mistress allowed him to take the stairs at his own pace, then marched him across the finished basement to the large, white iron bed that occupied the far wall. Without warning, she pulled William around to face her, then grabbed his shoulders and shoved. Overbalancing, William fell backwards, crying out as he landed in the middle of a soft, fluffy bed. Tensing, William’s uneasiness increased. His captor’s unpredictable behavior left him feeling threatened and vulnerable.

                  Though questions bubbled to his lips, he did not voice them. For the first time his true situation occurred to him. No one knew where he was, his hands were bound uselessly behind him, and he was in the power of a woman he did not know. His gut curled tighter and he felt the first surges of adrenaline hitting his system.

                  “Feeling a little uncertain, William?” the Mistress asked.

                  “A little,” William admitted.

                  “Good.” She smiled as she looked down at him. He was clearly rattled, and she planned to keep him that way.

                  William had landed, half reclining, in the middle of the bed. Climbing onto it, she straddled his hips and reached around, attaching a second set of cuffs to his left wrist. She then removed the original handcuff from that hand. Using her weight and bracing him against her knee, she pinned William’s right arm under him, and pulled his left hand out and up, attaching the other end of the handcuff to the left side of the wrought iron headboard. She then attached the cuff on his right hand to the right side of the headboard.

                  Arms stretched out and up, William shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. “Is the blindfold really necessary,” he asked. “It makes me very uncomfortable not to be able to see what you are doing.”

                  “Taking away your sight heightens your other senses,” the Mistress responded. “And I want you highly sensitized to what I do to you,” she added, her voice velvety soft.

                  Sucking in a breath, William’s body responded to those simple words. He could feel heat and desire coursing though his body, bringing his cock instantly to attention. A small moan escaped his lips in unconscious anticipation.

                  The Mistress watched him carefully for a moment. She had already noted the correlation between his heightened tension and the blindfold. She now noted that his communication skills were also affected. Once the blindfold was in place, William rarely spoke, and then used as few words as possible.

                  She removed his shoes and socks, then pulled off his tie and unbuttoned his light blue oxford shirt, bunching it up over his arms and exposing his muscled chest and abdomen. Satisfied, she got off the bed and looked at him. Lying there shackled to the bed, blind, his chest rapidly rising and falling, he looked delectable. The blindfold accentuated the sharp planes of his face. High cheekbones, firm, sensual lips, and a strong, square jaw indicated a strength of character she was eager to explore.

                  She removed her uniform shirt and pants, revealing a blue lace bra, matching garter belt, and blue silk stockings. She wasn’t wearing any panties.

                  Returning to William, she slowly removed his belt, trousers, and underwear.               “Cross your ankles, William,” she commanded next. Baffled, William complied, and felt something silky as she bound his ankles with his tie, forcing his knees apart. He felt himself swell painfully at the thought of how vulnerable and exposed he must look.

                  “How do you feel, William?”

                  “What?"

                  “How do you feel, right now, William? Here with me, helpless and exposed. How does it make you feel?”

                  Inhaling, William tried to find an answer for her. “Tense, I guess,” he finally responded.

                  “Do you like it?” the Mistress asked.

                  “I’m not sure like is the right word,” he responded. “I’m not sure what I feel.”

                  Nodding and sitting down at the foot of the bed, the Mistress hooked her silk-clad legs under William’s knees, spreading him wide. Gently trailing a finger up the sensitive underside of his shaft, she watched William’s reaction. Inhaling sharply, he clenched his hands into fists, and tensed his thighs and abdomen in response. Gently encircling him, she slowly ran her hand up and down his tender flesh, eliciting a groan from him. “Do you like this, William?” she asked.

                  “Yes,” he replied through clenched teeth.

                  “William, do you remember asking my name last time we met,” she asked. He nodded.

                  “What was my response?”

                  “You told me you were ‘the mistress of my fate,’” he answered.

                  “Yes, William, and when we are together I am your Mistress. I want you to address me as ‘Mistress’. In answer to my questions, you are to say, ‘Yes, Mistress,’ or ‘No, Mistress’. Do you understand?”

                  William balked. He couldn’t believe how hard it was to get the words past his lips. Something twisted in his gut as he slowly responded, “Yes, Mistress.”

                  “Good, William. Now let’s try again.” As she stroked him, she asked, “Do you like this, William?”

                  “Yes, Mistress.”

                  She then quickly ran a fingernail down the sole of William’s foot and he involuntarily jerked it away from her. “Do you like that, William?” she asked.

                  “No, Mistress,” he responded promptly.

                  “Good, William. Now there is one other phrase you may use. If you wish to ask a question or want permission to speak for any reason you may say, ‘Please, Mistress’. You may only say it once, and you must wait for me to acknowledge you and give you permission to continue. Use this phrase sparingly or it will be forbidden you. Do you understand?”

                  “I’m not sure, Mistress,” William responded.

                  She slapped him sharply on his inner thigh, and he flinched.

                  “No, William. That is not a proper answer. Try again. Do you understand when and how you may use the phrase ‘Please, Mistress’?”

                  “No, Mistress,” William replied.

                  Patiently, she once again explained the parameters to him, and then resumed his catechism as she learned his preferences and tolerances. William slowly became more comfortable with the ritual replies as the Mistress catalogued his responses to everything from light tickling to raking claw marks across his exposed and helpless body. From kisses to nibbles to bites. Never concentrating on one area too long, she left trails of reddened skin over his arms, chest, legs and groin.

                  William tolerated the multi-pronged assault as long as he could, his nerves stretching tighter with each touch of her diabolical hands and lips. Finally, his head reeling from sensory overload, William softly whispered, “Please, Mistress.”

                  “What, William?” she gently responded.

                  “Please, Mistress,” he gasped, “I can’t take any more.”

                  Again, the Mistress was pleased at his ability to accept his helplessness and her control over him. He had lasted longer than she expected.

                  Relenting, she applied a condom to his engorged shaft, and slowly crawled up his body, trailing her lips and tongue across his flat, muscled stomach, stopping to lave each nipple, and finally planting a searing kiss on his lips as she impaled herself on him. William convulsed with pleasure as she tightly encased him and began to slowly ride him. Rocking and grinding her hips against his, William thrust his hips up to meet each stroke. Unhooking the catch at the front of her bra, she leaned forward and nudged William’s lips with her freed breasts. Groaning, he accepted one breast into his mouth, suckling and nibbling greedily. His actions sent a frisson of fire straight to her belly, and she quickly found her own release, crying out as she came.

                  William paused and held still as the last echoes of her climax shuddered through her body, then he tried to resume the rhythm stoking his own desire. Placing a hand on his chest, the Mistress stopped him. “William,” she said, “you must ask for and receive my permission every time before you may have your own release.”

                  Protesting, William tried to drive himself deeper into her slick sheath, but she lifted herself off him. Breathless with need, William capitulated and begged, “Please, Mistress.”

                  “What do you want, William?”

                  “Please, Mistress. Grant me my release,” he pleaded.

                  Receiving her permission, he finished to a resounding climax that left him gasping and seeing stars behind his blindfold. As his breathing and heartbeat returned to normal, gentle hands cradled his face, softly caressing his jaw, his lips; long fingers ran through his tousled hair.

                  With one final, sweetly gentle kiss, she rose from him. First donning her own clothes, she then dressed William, secured his hands behind his back, and returned him to the parking garage. Once there, she gave him the now familiar command, “Kneel.”

                  As he submitted, she placed her hand on the nape of his neck and then unlocked and removed the handcuffs. With an offhand, “See you later,” she climbed back into her cruiser and drove away.

                  Removing the blindfold, William continued to kneel in a daze for several moments, trying to come to grips with the emotional and physical rollercoaster generated by the mysterious blonde cop. William had never met a woman who affected him this way. He responded to her on a primitive level that made rational thought out of the question. She was both compelling and a little frightening. William was entranced.

                  Over the next few weeks, he made inquiries into who the blonde police officer might be, but without results. He looked for her in the evenings as he was on his way home, but she had disappeared. Repeatedly his mind replayed his encounters with her. She was not the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Hell, she wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d dated. But there was a confidence, an authority that radiated from her, making her uniquely desirable. The mysterious woman was quickly becoming an obsession.

                  He suddenly realized he has never seen her unclothed. Strange, it didn’t occur to him at the time. He had not felt self-conscious with her, even though he was all but naked. However, what his mind kept returning to was the experience itself. The fear at being tied down, controlled, helpless. The raw panic at being blind. And yet, it was the biggest turn on of his life. It was almost a compulsion. How could that be? What did it say about him?

                  He was a very successful lawyer. He had made it on the associate track of one of the major law firms in the city, specializing in high profile divorce cases. On the brink of being offered a partnership, William had inexplicably resigned from the firm. Though he never talked about it, he found the courtroom wrangling over peoples’ broken lives to be sad and vaguely unsettling. Instead, he had opened his own practice. A skilled negotiator, he had slowly developed a reputation for reaching quiet, equitable settlements among his very wealthy clientele. The asset distribution may have been less satisfying, but they avoided a nasty court battle and all those tabloid headlines. He was also usually able to minimize the pain a divorcing couple routinely inflicted on each other.

                  And the key to these successful negotiations was the power and confidence he radiated. People liked him and trusted him. They confided in him, and sought his advice. In short, he was used to being in charge. In control.

                  So why did being utterly helpless turn him on more than any other experience of his life? William wasn’t sure he wanted that question answered, but he also couldn’t dismiss it. The puzzle of the mystery woman and his very complex response to her continued to occupy his thoughts, and, especially, his dreams.

 

The Lawyer

By C. A. Taylor

3        Naked

       More than three weeks elapsed with no sign of the mystery woman. William began to wonder if he would ever see her again. Moreover, he was annoyed to find that the idea of not seeing her again filled him with disappointment and longing. His inquiries had turned up nothing, leaving him frustrated but with no avenues to pursue. So he was both surprised and pleased when he found her cruiser pulling into his driveway behind him, one Friday afternoon.

       Stepping out of the car, she walked up to him and said, “Hello, William.”

       He nodded a greeting, questions and irritation in his eyes. In spite of the great sex, he resented her high-handedness, not to mention actually being kidnapped. Twice.

       She noticed, but picked up the reins smoothly. “On your knees, William. Hands behind your back.” He reluctantly followed her orders and was not surprised when the metal cuffs clasped his wrists. “Get into the cruiser,” was the next command.

       Relieved to be spared the blindfold, his shoulders relaxed as he followed her directions. Returning to the driver’s seat, she commanded, “Be silent, William,” then turned her attention to her driving. Driving smoothly, they traveled into the heart of the city, going against rush hour traffic for the most part.

       William’s mind darted about as the cruiser meandered its way through the streets. His groin was already becoming heavy, his cock starting to throb. He was amazed how much he has missed her. How did she provoke such an uncontrollable fascination in him? Why did he crave these experiences so much? With no answers available, he settled back in the cruiser and waited, eager to know what she had in store for him tonight.

       The Mistress kept a discreet eye on William as she drove. He was at a critical juncture, and required careful monitoring. That was why she had chosen tonight to push his boundaries. So far, their sessions had been of the Disneyland variety. Sexual stimulation and release had been center stage, with notes of control and compliance confined to the sidelines. Tonight it was time to see how he reacted to the control without the sexual stimulation.

       Crossing the river, the cruiser slowed and turned into a narrow street, tall buildings peering down from either side. Turning again, she drove into an alley servicing the behemoths. She parked the cruiser near a service entrance and turned to look back at William.

       “We are going into this hotel. You will stay at my side at all times. You will speak to no one. You will not draw attention to yourself in any way.”

       “Yes, Mistress,” William dutifully replied. This seemed so ordinary. Too much like a tawdry affair. William’s eyes fell, covering his disappointment. As he exited the police cruiser, she turned him around and quietly removed the handcuffs, then led the way through an unmarked door.

       Walking down a dark corridor, they passed swinging double doors that clearly led to the kitchens. Beyond was a row of doors, no doubt leading to administrative offices. Continuing on to the ornate marble and gilt lobby, the Mistress never hesitated. Heading directly for the bank of elevators, William carefully kept pace with her, glancing inconspicuously around, being careful never to meet anyone’s eyes.

       Once inside the elevator, the Mistress punched the button for the top floor. In a hotel this lavish, it was certainly reserved for suites and penthouses. William quirked a brow, wondering how a police officer could possibly afford a place like this for a rendezvous. Arriving at their destination, the Mistress walked briskly down a corridor to the last door on the right. Using a keycard, she gained entry, holding the door for William.

       As he suspected, the place was enormous and lavish. Past a living room as large as a basketball court, he saw a curved bank of windows leading to a carefully landscaped terrace complete with a swimming pool surrounded by marble columns. Padded chaise lounges dotted the perimeter, a built-in bar and grill off to one side. Without looking, William knew the view would be spectacular. William stood, his back to the Mistress, and waited for her command.

       “Turn around, William.”

       He complied.

       “Now strip,” she ordered, matter-of-factly.

       Taken aback at the order, William’s curiosity was also aroused. No one had ever stated their desires quite so boldly. “Blunt, aren’t you?” he observed. William looked at her a moment, then, “Aren’t you afraid I might grab you? Ravish you?”

       The Mistress smiled, and shook her head. “You won’t, William.”

       “I won’t?” he asked. “Why not?”

       “Because I am trained to control men much bigger than me, and you probably wouldn’t succeed. You might even get hurt in the process. But more importantly, no matter what the outcome, today would be the last time you would ever see me. And you’re not ready for that,” she added softly.

       William looked at her steadily for a moment, then dropped his eyes, sighed, and began loosening his tie.

       “Hurry up, William. I don’t need a striptease. I just want you naked.”

       “What about what I want?”

       “You want to see what happens next,” she replied confidently.

       Silently acknowledging the truth of her statement, William unbuttoned and removed his shirt. As he continued to disrobe, she wrinkled her nose at the white jockey shorts. “Get rid of those jockey shorts,” she demanded. “I don’t want to see you in them again. You can wear boxers or go commando, but no more briefs.”

       Once he had removed his clothing, folded it, and placed it on a chair as directed, he looked up at her, waiting silently, his heart rate and breathing climbing in anticipation.

       The Mistress led him out to the terrace, and over to one of the columns at the far side of the pool. The columns held up carved slabs of white marble, arcing gently around the pool in an open circle slightly reminiscent of Stonehenge, but much more delicate. About thirty feet away, the terrace ended in a Plexiglas and chrome wall. From where he stood, he commanded a striking view of the city laid out to the west of downtown.

       Digging around in her shoulder bag, the Mistress extracted two heavy leather cuffs and handed them to him. “These are ankle restraints, William. Put them on.”        Kneeling down on the manicured lawn, William buckled the cuffs snuggly onto each ankle. Rising, he then obediently held out his wrists while the Mistress attached slightly smaller cuffs to each of them. Walking behind the column, the Mistress positioned a stepladder that was waiting nearby, and climbed up, pressing something into the column.

       “William, place your back against the column and raise your arms,” she ordered.

       Puzzled at this order, he slowly complied. As he did so, she threaded a leather strap through the ring in the cuff, then ran it behind the column and threaded it through the ring of the other wrist cuff. Running the leather over a hook embedded in the column, she tightened the strap until William’s arms were drawn high above his head and part way around the thick column.

       Climbing off the stepladder, the Mistress bent down, attaching a similar strap to one of his ankle restraints. Again running the leather behind the column, she hooked his other ankle to the strap. Directing William to spread his legs and bring his heels back as far as he could, she tightened the strap.

       Walking around to survey her handiwork, she was awed by the results. William’s legs were drawn back tightly to the outside of the pillar, thighs flexed and heels barely touching the ground. His arms were pulled up and back, raising his chest and hollowing his sculpted abdomen. With his shoulders pressed tight against the column, his back was slightly arched, forcing his pelvis forward, erect cock begging for attention.

       Tightly bound, the lines of his body from his forearms all the way down to his calves were taut. He was unable to move, barely able to shift his weight. The lines were breathtaking, and her mouth curved into a smile of deep appreciation. Although he was in his mid-thirties and not overly muscular, William was fit and trim. His lithe, slender build reminded her of professional dancers she had known.

       “That’s beautiful, William.”

       William’s head was thrown up and back as he looked at the paraphernalia attaching him to the marble pillar. Elegant in its simplicity, there was no way William could reach the buckles at his wrists or the buckle on the leather strap at the back of the column.

       His eyes snapped down to the Mistress’ face as she briefly caressed his shaft, then darted away, an embarrassed flush staining his cheeks. Irrelevantly, he noted her eyes were an icy light blue.

       “What’s the matter, William, worried about the ‘eye in the sky’?” she teased. “Being exposed out-of-doors feels very different, doesn’t it?” she commented.

       Satisfied with her preparations, she removed a professional-grade Nikon camera from her bag, setting the bag out of her way. Returning to William, the sick look on his face amused her.

       “Yes, William, I am going to take pictures of you. Here. Naked. For my pleasure. Now, since you can’t affect the outcome, why don’t you just relax into the inevitable?”

       Firming his lips into a thin line, William stared straight ahead, rebellion clear in every line. “You can’t do this,” he stated.

       “Yes, William, I can,” the Mistress ran her hand up and down his chest. “How are you going to stop me?”

       “I can’t stop you from taking the photos,” he conceded, “but I can have your camera, the film, and the prints impounded for invasion of privacy,” William threatened.

       “First, how would you issue the writ? You don’t know my name or where to find me. Second, you would have to admit the nature of the pictures to obtain the warrant, and I don’t think you want a record indicating there are nude photos of you around somewhere. I assure you, I take the security of my prints and negatives very seriously. You don’t have to worry about finding these shots on the Internet.”

       The Mistress paused to see if he had the fortitude to continue, or whether she had pushed his boundaries too far. Running her hand through his hair, she softly said, “Trust me, William.”

       When he capitulated, she could not help but admire his strength and adaptability.        Unaware of her thoughts, William yielded, realizing the Mistress was right. There was nothing he could do to prevent her taking the photos, and making a legal fuss would probably be both embarrassing and useless. Accepting the inevitable, he sighed, and then stood still while she snapped away in the late afternoon light, directing him to tilt his head or shift his position slightly, as needed. The light was bright enough to reveal the deep blue of his eyes, dark as the Mediterranean. Climbing the stepladder, the Mistress raised her Nikon and took several shots looking down at his shadowed profile, framed by his arms. His head thrown back and neck exposed in the reddening light, he looked like Prometheus, resigned to his fate. She again took a wide array of photos from many different angles, posing him as she went along. Slowly, the light faded, and William breathed a sigh of relief, certain his torment was about to end.

       Instead, the Mistress took a break to change the film in her camera to black and white. Using the stepladder, she removed the hook from the column, and let out some slack in the strap.  Ordering William to lower his arms, she again tightened the strap, leaving him just as firmly attached to the pillar, but with his arms lowered and hands stretched around behind the column. She then retrieved a tripod and two light stands from behind the bar. Once they were set up, she resumed her photo study of his nude body. She took everything from headshots and close ups to full body shots at various angles, using the light and shadows to define the curves and planes of his body. His erection was a prominent player in many of her shots.

       Finally satisfied, she put the camera down. The whole ordeal had lasted less than two hours, but William’s body was aching from the tension of his taut muscles, and he had long ago lost feeling in his hands. Throughout it all, his cock had remained at attention, throbbing with need, his eyes dilated with desire.

       Gently stroking him, the Mistress looked up at him and observed, “You have stayed hard through the entire photo shoot. What about it makes you so hot?”

       “Nothing,” William responded, looking away.

       Slapping him sharply on the inner thigh, the Mistress snapped “Don’t lie to me, William! Not ever.”

       “What is it about the photo shoot that turns you on?” she asked more gently, again stroking him.

       Unable to meet her eyes, he admitted, “I guess it reminds me a bit of one of my favorite fantasies.”

       “Tell me,” she ordered.

       Taking a deep breath, William sighed, looked out over the city, and then began, speaking very low. “In my fantasy, I live about a thousand years ago. I belong to a Celtic tribe, and am a renowned warrior.

       “One day on a hunting expedition I become separated from the rest of the hunters, and am ambushed by the warriors of a neighboring tribe. Surrounded and outnumbered twenty to one, I drop my weapons and slowly sink to my knees in surrender.

       “They bind my hands behind my back, and then haul me to my feet. I am forced to march with them back to their encampment.

       “This tribe is dominated by women, who are the hunters and warriors. They keep their men as slaves to labor in the fields. As I am a feared warrior from another tribe, I am a great prize.”

       William paused to glance at the Mistress, gauging her reaction to his words. Seeing no sign of judgment or derision, he continued.

       “Well, I am immediately put to work as a slave in their fields. But, instead of being kept in the men’s camp nearby, every evening I am brought up to the women’s encampment. Since I am healthy and accomplished, and of another tribe, I am valued as breeding stock.

       “Every night I am tied hand and foot, placed on my back and forced to have sex with chosen women of child-bearing age. And, well,” he paused, “that’s my fantasy.”

       Nodding, the Mistress resumed stroking his shaft, this time with more energy and purpose.

       “So, William, that turns you on,” she said. He nodded, eyes on the ground.

       “You like being helpless, being objectified, being used like that,” she stated, pumping him as she uttered each phrase.

       Again, he nodded.

       “Good,” she approved briskly. “Because I intend to make you helpless, objectify you, and use you whenever possible,” she whispered in his ear. Gripping him firmly, she pumped him until he was ready to come, a low growl rumbling in his throat. With one last stroke, she squeezed his balls, and he let out a roar as he climaxed, jetting semen onto the concrete apron edging the pool.

       Once his breathing slowed, the Mistress released the strap holding his arms in place, cautioning William to lower his arms slowly, allowing the circulation to resume a bit at a time. Then she released his ankles, again retrieving the strap.

       The stabbing of pins-and-needles still assaulted his arms and hands, but William barely noticed in the blessed relief of being able to move and stretch his aching muscles. He was stunned speechless when the Mistress walked over and tenderly wrapped him in a heavy, quilted blanket, then urged him to sit and rest against the pillar that had been his prison. William wondered if he would ever understand the paradox of this woman.

       The Mistress took her time carefully putting away the photographic equipment. Then she carefully locked the camera and film into a metal case, and, carrying it, directed William to a comfortable chair indoors. Retrieving two bottles of water from the stocked fridge, she handed one to William, and sat down. Still wearing the black cuffs, he drank his water, and rested his forearms on his thighs, pondering the woman seated next to him.

       “What are you going to do with those photos?” he finally asked.

       “Enjoy them,” she replied with an enigmatic smile. “Just as I enjoy you.”

       “Do you?” William asked curiously. “Enjoy me, I mean.”

       Assessing him with a practiced eye, the Mistress was pleased at his quick recovery. She knew how draining it was to be held in place for hours at a time, but William was alert and clearly not in pain. His strength and resilience were extraordinary. And his response to the control scenario had been positive. Very positive, considering his fantasy. She would have to think about that.

       “Yes, William, I do,” she responded, leaning over, cupping his neck and kissing him tenderly.

       “Why?” William asked.

       “Why do I enjoy you?” the Mistress responded. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

       William flushed at the comment, but pursued the thought. “No, I mean, why me? I don’t understand this game, if that is what you are playing.”

       “Why does there have to be a reason, William? Can’t you just enjoy our time together?”

       “I don’t like the balance of power. You seem to know a great deal about me. I don’t even know your name.”

       “And that makes you feel vulnerable,” she cut him off. “Are you telling me you don’t like the feeling?” she asked.

       William nodded.

       “Do you like the sex?” she pursued.

       Again, William nodded.

       “Well, part of what makes the sex so good is your feeling of vulnerability. Of never knowing what to expect. Besides,” she shrugged, “I haven’t offered you a choice.”

       As he finished the water, she removed the leather cuffs, and then ordered him to get up and get dressed. Once he was clothed, she directed him back out of the hotel to the police cruiser. Ordering him to turn around, she fastened the familiar metal handcuffs on his wrists, and placed him into the car.

       The drive back to his home was silent, the Mistress content with her thoughts, and William, exhausted, rested quietly against the back seat. Upon arrival, the Mistress helped him out of the car, made him kneel, caressed the back of his neck, and removed the cuffs. As she turned to go, William asked, “Mistress, when will I see you again?”

       His query received no reply.

The Lawyer

By C. A. Taylor

4        Disobedience

       Two months had passed since William had last seen his mystery woman. She still haunted his dreams, and no other woman seemed to appeal to him. He often thought back on their encounters with an inexplicable fascination.

       But he had been busy, working long hours on a very complicated settlement agreement involving property in two foreign jurisdictions. Most evenings he left the office late, and headed straight home. Only his gym schedule varied his routine.

       He had given up looking for her, assuming she had lost interest in him. Then one evening as he was leaving his office a police car pulled into the space behind his in the parking lot. William was just reaching for the handle of his car door. He stopped, elated and chagrined, and turned to see the blonde officer exiting the familiar police cruiser.

       Annoyed at her long absence, and at his pleased response, William snapped, “Can’t you be a little more discreet? I work here. There is no telling who might see me being cuffed and taken into custody by a cop. How am I supposed to answer those questions?”

       Smiling at his belligerence, she said, “Don’t fret, William. I plan our sessions better than that. Get in your car and follow me to Nicholson Street. When we arrive, pull around to the back, and park next to the loading dock.  Do not deviate from my directions, William. You don’t want to irritate me.” With an evil grin, she got back into the cruiser, and waited for William to start his ignition.

       The Mistress was glad to see William’s anger. If he didn’t have the spirit to stand up to her he would never make a successful Candidate. She knew it would make for fireworks tonight, but she was prepared for that. In fact, she was eagerly looking forward to continuing William’s testing. Though he hadn’t seen her in the last two months, she had kept close tabs on him, and felt everything was progressing nicely.

       During the drive, William rehearsed all the thoughts and arguments that had been plaguing him the last several weeks. He vowed to himself that tonight would be different. Tonight, he would turn the tables and take control. Let’s see how she liked being ordered around and trussed up like a Christmas turkey. Yes, tonight was going to be different. He was looking forward to seeing how she looked in just a pair of handcuffs…and finally learning her name.

       Arriving at Nicholson Street, William recognized the warehouse he was brought to the first time he encountered the policewoman. He stepped out of his car and waited for her to approach. Leaning one hip on the hood of her car, arms crossed in front of her, she said, “William, don’t make me wait for you. You know the drill. On your knees, hands behind your back.”

       William refused, shaking his head. Walking toward her he said, “I think I’ve had about enough of that. Turn about is fair play, and I think it’s my turn to see you on your knees.” The passion in his eyes promised she wouldn’t be disappointed.

       “No, William. That’s not how this works,” replied the officer, drawing her weapon. “Now, on your knees, hands behind your back.”

       Aghast, William looked down the barrel of her revolver, then at the steady, determined look in her eyes, and quickly decided to follow her orders. Sinking slowly to his knees, he allowed her to cuff his hands. Again.

       The Mistress breathed a mental sigh of relief. William had no way of knowing the gun was not loaded. She knew what a dangerous game she was playing until he accepted his submission, and she was not eager either to be raped or to lose such a good Candidate. Fortunately, he had not called her bluff…yet. Hopefully by the time he did, she would be prepared to handle him. She didn’t relish the risk, but the stakes were high enough that the risk was justified.

       The Mistress used a key on the back door and they entered. The cavernous space was cloaked in shadows, with filtered daylight slipping in through the high windows, and fluorescent tubes high in the rafters weakly lighting the central area. The warehouse had been a shipping and storage facility for large machinery at one time, and the ceiling was traversed with industrial-grade hoists, pulleys, and other riggings.

       Directly in front of William was a steel sculpture consisting of two welded poles about four inches in diameter. The upright was about five feet long and the crossbeam fifteen or twenty feet in length. They were attached at the center with wire cables wound around them; small metal sails or wings arced out from the horizontal ends. Suspended from the ceiling by a winch and two large, thick chains, the sculpture was centered directly over a platform four feet off the ground and thirty feet square. The platform was covered in gray, industrial-grade carpeting, with a wooden staircase leading to it. At the foot of the steps, the Mistress again ordered William to kneel.

       This time, William balked. “I know you aren’t going to shoot me, and I’m sick of your constant orders. You can’t make me do anything.”

       She looked up at him with a half smile on her face, then lashed out with her foot at the back of his knee, toppling him over. He fell hard against the steps, unable to break his fall. She was on him in an instant, pulling a large wad of white cotton from her coat pocket and pressing it over his nose and mouth. William lost consciousness almost immediately.

*  *  *

       He woke to a strong, bitter odor and a headache. Instinctively he pulled his head back, still muzzy and reeling from the effects of whatever drug she had used on him.

       “No, William, I won’t shoot you,” she said softly, discarding the smelling salts.  “You’re right. However, I will hurt you or drug you as I see fit. I’m trained to handle guys a lot bigger than you, and I can make you do what I say. So why don’t you save us both the effort—and you the headache.”

       As his head began to clear, William discovered without surprise that he was naked from the waist up. He was also bound to the large metal sculpture, which now lay on the platform under him. With both arms brought up under the crosspiece to either side of the upright, his wrists were secured in leather cuffs in front of the point where the two sections met. He lay face down on the platform, sprawled uncomfortably over the metal cross.

       Suddenly, the Mistress reached down, lacing her fingers in his hair, and pulled his head back. As he opened his mouth to protest, she forced something into it. It was a red rubber ball, about an inch and a half in diameter, with leather straps protruding from opposite ends. She drew the leather straps tight behind his head, buckling them in place and forcing his mouth open. Gagging, William tried unsuccessfully for several seconds to spit the ball out. The straps held it in place, however, and he was unable to dislodge it. Beginning to panic, he writhed as his muscles tensed and twitched while he tried unsuccessfully to catch his breath.

       The Mistress knelt down in front of him, and took his head in both her hands, holding him still. “Look at me, William. Calm down. Take deep, slow breaths in through your nose, and breathe out through your mouth. You are not choking, and you are not suffocating. This is a ball gag, and, believe me, it is much more comfortable than many other designs.”

       William tried to do as she said, and slowly regained his breath. After a few minutes, he had mastered the ability to inhale through his nose, and exhale through his mouth, while keeping the ball firmly braced against his teeth with his tongue. Regaining his composure, William looked up at her. There was hurt and uncertainty in his eyes, and she caressed his neck reassuringly.

       “This warehouse is supposedly unused, and we don’t want to be interrupted by a concerned citizen, or some of my colleagues, should someone decide to call 911,” she explained.

       “Now to business. William, I’m going to raise the chains attached to the sculpture, so I need you to get up and move with it.”

       William glared at her, but as the Mistress pressed a switch dangling from the ceiling, he had no choice but to move. William scrambled along in a half crouch, trying to avoid being dragged as the assemblage swayed and was lifted off the platform. When the upright was raised up above the floor and William’s shackled wrists were in front of his face, it stopped.

       Coming up behind him, the Mistress first slid her hands along the tender skin under his arms, then down his ribs, raising gooseflesh as she went. Finally circling her arms around him, she ran her hands up and down his firm chest and taut abdomen. Nuzzling his neck, she gently nibbled and sucked the tender skin just below his ear, eliciting a moan from William. Circling her hands lower, she reached down between his legs and cupped him through the fabric of his trousers. William sucked in a sharp breath, he then sighed and relaxed as her hand strolled up the fabric to rub his shaft.

       “So, what have we here,” teased the Mistress. “It looks like a package for me. I think I’ll just unwrap it and take a look.” William tensed and mentally cursed himself. He had forgotten that he needed to talk to her before she undressed him. This was not working out as planned. He tried to duck away from her hands, but she was standing right behind him, her hips pressed against his.

       “Stand still, William,” she said calmly.

       Resigned, he did as she demanded.

       She unbuckled his belt, leaving it hanging from the belt loops, and released the zipper of his pants. Sliding the grey flannel down his slim hips, she halted as she saw—white jockey shorts. Glad she was standing behind him, she quickly suppressed a smile. He was right on schedule, complete with this calculated rebellion.

       “Well, well. It seems Billy has been a bad boy. Yes, willful disobedience, that’s what this is,” she drawled sarcastically. “Well, William, disobedience must be punished. So much for my pleasant evening; it seems I have to go to work.”

       So saying, she walked around in front of him. She removed her uniform cap and slowly unbuttoned the long dark coat she was wearing. Shedding the coat, she stood in a short, black, v-neck dress. Her golden hair hung loose around her shoulders. High-heeled leather boots encased her strong, sturdy legs, and disappeared under the hem of her skirt. Around her waist was a wide, black leather belt with silver rings and ornaments, and dangling from the left side of the belt was a long black leather fringe.

       Her arctic blue eyes assessed him as she moved to him. Pushing his pants down, she secured his belt firmly below his knees, effectively immobilizing him. Walking around behind him, she reached for a knife sheathed at her belt, and proceeded to cut off the offending underwear. Vulnerable and exposed, William’s gut tightened in trepidation. No, this evening was not going at all as he had planned.

       His body didn’t seem to realize there was anything wrong, however, and responded to her as eagerly as ever. Smiling at his erection, the Mistress reached around him and smoothly applied a condom, and then removed a black circle of leather about two inches in diameter and one inch in height from her belt. Loosening the leather lacings, she slid it over William’s engorged shaft and settled it at the base of his cock. She carefully tightened the leather thongs until he was snuggly encased in a leather ring. Crossing the laces behind his balls, she pulled them up and forward, securing them to the base of his shaft. Satisfied with her preparations, she raised the sculpture until William’s arms were extended over his head and he was dangling about a foot off the floor. Feeling the pull on his shoulders, William flexed his arms to take part of the strain.

       “All right, William,” she began. “Part of the reason for punishment is to teach. You were told to get rid of your briefs and you did not do it. This is to teach you that when I give you an order, it is to be obeyed.”

       William groaned around his gag, wondering how long she was going to leave him hanging here, and how much worse the strain on his arms and shoulders would become before she relented. Believing this to be the extent of his punishment, he was totally unprepared for the sharp sting of the flogger as it connected with his rump for the first time. Nor for the speed and fury with which successive blows fell as she ruthlessly wielded the black leather whip. He cried out behind the gag as the first blow struck.

       The whooshing sound of air parting and the startling smack as the thongs connected with his skin made it worse. Shocked to his very core, William was unable to process what was happening to him. As the stinging blows continued raining down on his shoulders, back, and buttocks, he slowly realized that he was not really being injured, or even hurt. The noise and unexpectedness of the contact startled him and the leather thongs stung as they snapped against his skin, but the real ravages were emotional. Engulfed by a wave of shame and helplessness, tears sprang to his eyes. He had never felt so defenseless in his life, bare all the way down to his soul.

       The Mistress continued to ply the whip, covering him from thighs to shoulders in an even blanket of pink. The sweet torture snapped his nerve endings into overdrive, causing shuddering waves of sensation to engulf him. Through it all, the leather circlet bit into his shaft, as he throbbed, stiff and erect.

       William quickly learned that the pauses were worse than the strokes with the flogger. Each irregular break in the rhythm caused him to tense, waiting breathlessly to learn when and where the next blow would fall. Also, without the whipping to distract him, the fire burning through his arms and shoulders surged to the fore.

       The Mistress continued her assault, seemingly tireless. Breath ragged and eyes wet, William gave himself over to the pain. The stinging blows ran together, and he closed his eyes, in his own private world. Pain and humiliation mixed with his growing arousal. Vowing to go out and purchase new underwear that very evening, William promised himself never to disobey her again.

       Finally satisfied, the Mistress hooked her flogger back on her belt, and flipped the switch to lower William to the floor. She caught the top of the crossbeam and helped guide it and William safely down until he was lying prone atop it. Then she leaned over to inspect his back. An even bright pink covered him everywhere from shoulders to thighs. There was a welt mark on one thigh and two more on his shoulders, but the Mistress was pleased to see the skin was unbroken. This was his first beating, and she had been gentle with him.

       William groaned as the fire in his shoulders finally lessened. Tears were glistening in his eyes, his breathing was ragged, and his limbs were shaking. She unshackled him from the sculpture and dragged his unresisting arms behind his back, where she once again applied the handcuffs.

       Carefully, she rolled him over onto his back away from the sculpture. Moaning in pain, William raised himself onto his elbows to protect his tender back from the rough carpet. Legs still bound together, he lay under her as the Mistress leaned back, and impaled herself on his stiff erection.

       Dimly, William noted she was not wearing any panties. Though his backside burned from the pressure of her weight on top of him as he was rubbed against the carpeting, his body responded to her tight slickness, engorging his shaft painfully.

       Unbuckling the strap behind his head, she removed the gag and kissed him, plundering his mouth as she rode him. Groaning deep in his throat, William tried to shift his position, relieving the strain on his shoulders. She continued to ride him to her own orgasm, then stopped, still impaled on his straining erection.

       “William, are you sorry you disobeyed me?” she asked.

       “Yes,” William sighed.

       “No, William,” she chided, “remember your manners.”

       “Yes, Mistress,” he dutifully responded.

       “Then you may beg me for forgiveness, William.”

       “Please, Mistress, I’m very sorry I disobeyed you, a-and I won’t do it again. Please forgive me,” William pleaded.

       “Your ass hurts, doesn’t it?” she asked. 

       “Yes, it does,” he said.

       “And your cock is about to explode, isn’t it?” the Mistress observed.

       “Yes, Mistress,” William replied, grinding his teeth.

       “Very well, William,” she said, “I forgive you.” Reaching behind her, she released the belt confining his legs. Then she unlaced and removed the leather cock ring. William sighed in relief.

       “Honesty should be rewarded, so lie back, spread your knees, and find your release.”

       So saying, she pushed William down on his back and leaned forward with her hands braced against his shoulders. With his legs free, William lifted his hips up to encase himself fully in her sleek wetness, driving himself into her as far as he could. She rocked back, riding him, meeting him with each thrust, as she drove him inside her even further. As he quickened the pace toward a frenzied conclusion, she came again moments before William growled low in his throat as his orgasm ripped through him, leaving him weak and sweating.

       William lay on the dais, breathing hard, amazed at the blending of pain and pleasure surging through him, as he stared up at the high ceiling of the warehouse. He watched as the Mistress got up, adjusted her clothing, and donned her cap and coat. Bending down, she planted a searing kiss on his lips, and placed the key to the handcuffs in his hand. “See you, lover,” she said, and walked out the door into the darkness.

       Lying there, his back and bottom burning, William caught his breath as he tried to sort out what had just happened to him. The Mistress was the most maddening and bewitching creature he had ever encountered. She was leading him into a new world of discovery, and he was following eagerly, if somewhat painfully.

       Eventually, with much struggling, he managed to get his hands uncuffed. Finding his clothes, he slowly dressed and went out to his car. Bemused and disoriented, in pain and yet relaxed, he drove first to a department store, then home, thinking of Her.

The Lawyer

By C. A. Taylor

5           The Collar

 

                  A few days later, William was in the large, sunny kitchen of his home, opening his mail. Amongst the bills and junk mail, he found a black and white invitation with no return address. Opening it, it read, ‘Meet me Friday at the head of Cypress Trail in Rock Creek Park. 9pm. Wear old clothes.’ There was no signature.

                  Throughout the rest of the week, William debated with himself on whether to keep the appointment Friday night. Still smarting from the beating, he had spent countless hours thinking about the mysterious police officer, trying to understand his fascination with her. A part of him really didn’t like the way she controlled him and ordered him around, but the sex was absolutely fantastic. And another part of him reluctantly concluded he liked it just fine. She turned him on like no other woman he had ever known, and he had never had such intense orgasms in his life.

                  When Friday night arrived, William determined to keep the appointment, but he decided he would set some new ground rules—rules that involved him being on top for a change. Armed or not, he was determined to have it out with her.

                  Arriving half an hour early, William parked and locked his car and scouted around for a vantage point from which to await the arrival of the woman whose name he still did not know. Dressed in a dark suit and tie, he found a location to the right of the path. Leaning against a tree trunk screened by several tall bushes, he was so intent on watching the path he failed to notice her until she turned on her flashlight…right behind him.

                  Whirling around, he was immediately blinded by the light she had aimed at his face. Slowly raising his hands he quipped, “Is there a problem, officer?”

                  Dressed in a thin white silk blouse and straight black skirt tonight, the policewoman was again wearing high-heeled black leather boots that tightly encased her curving calves and thighs. She seemed to have been expecting him. “Face down, on the ground, and spread ‘em,” she directed.

                  “Now look here—,” William began.

                  “Are you that eager for another headache?” she asked, cutting him off and raising the Maglite menacingly.

                  “No,” William responded. “I just want to talk about this.”

                  “Get down on the ground, spread-eagled, right now, or I walk away and you will never see me again,” the officer said evenly.

                  The Mistress knew William was potentially dangerous to her at this moment, if his control slipped and he responded violently. Despite what she had told William, she had no doubt he could overpower her if he chose.

                  Slowly, William complied, and then asked, “Can we at least discuss this once I’m cuffed?”

                  The Mistress released the breath she had been holding and replied, “Yes, we will talk about the ground rules later tonight. Right now, put these on.” She dropped a pair of handcuffs on the ground near his face. Startled, William slowly reached up, took the cuffs in his hand, and awkwardly fitted the bracelets to his wrists behind his back.

                  “Roll over,” she ordered. William obeyed, and then stood at her command. Taking his elbow and aiming the flashlight at the dirt path, she guided him up the trail through the dark woods.

                  “No talking until we reach our destination,” the Mistress ordered. The path climbed steeply, twisting and wending its way through the dense trees. After walking briskly for more than thirty minutes, the woods petered out into a rough clearing. The dark outlines of a building slowly took shape, and the flashlight finally revealed it to be a modern log cabin. Although no light was visible from outside, once the door was unlocked and opened, a wedge of bright light spilled out into the night, welcoming them inside.

                  As she busied herself with closing and locking the door, William looked around the spacious main room. Comfortably if sparsely furnished, the room had high ceilings and walls of smooth wood timbers. A large wood-framed bed dominated one corner of the room, a long oak table another. A small galley kitchen, a comfortable seating area, and a small, but well-equipped exercise area rounded out the living space. The far wall was comprised of floor-to-ceiling glass panels, no doubt showing off a magnificent view.

                  Turning back from the door, the Mistress placed the flashlight on the farmhouse table and walked over to William, looking him up and down, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She was amused, in spite of the fact that tonight she would risk the entire venture involving William.

                  “And here I thought all lawyers could read,” she commented.

                  Confused, William turned back to her. “What do you mean?” he asked.

                  “My instructions to you were to wear old clothes, not a Versace suit.”

                  “Oh, well, I worked late and didn’t have time to change. Now, we need to talk,” William began, his own agenda firmly in mind.

                  “We will talk, William—when you are properly prepared.” So saying, she placed a hand against his chest and pushed. William staggered back a step, where the wooden bed frame collided with his calf and he fell heavily backwards onto the rustic, quilt-covered bed. As he tried to raise himself up on his braced elbows, she straddled his thighs and pulled a long, gleaming knife from her boot top. Viewing it up close for the first time, William could see that the seven inches of oiled, wickedly curved blade was honed to a razor edge.

                  William froze.

                  “Good, William. Very good,” the Mistress said, the edge in her voice indicating this was no time for games.

                  Grasping the knot of his tie in one hand, she smoothly sliced through the folded fabric. Dropping the severed tie on the floor, she held the knife up at eye level, admiring the beauty of the deadly blade.

                  “Now would be a very good time for you to be still and quiet, William,” she murmured softly as she unbuttoned his suit coat. Silently agreeing with her, William complied. He was also quickly reevaluating the advisability of taking a stand with her. At times, this woman was absolutely terrifying.

                  Gripping his shirt collar, the Mistress flicked her wrist and the top button of his shirt flew across the room. Another flick and another button was severed from the cloth. She continued to methodically un-button his shirt. Breathing shallowly, William clenched his abdominal muscles as the smooth blade of the knife brushed his skin as she freed the last button from its moorings.

                  “In the future, William, pay more attention to my instructions,” the Mistress commented as she grasped his shirt sleeve and jacket sleeve and smoothly sliced the fabric of both garments from wrist to shoulder. William’s eyes widened, but he said nothing. Repeating the process with the other sleeve, she removed the tattered remnants of his clothing and carelessly dropped them on the floor.

                  Apprehensively remembering the last time they were together, William moistened his lips and asked, “Are you going to beat me for not following your instructions?”

                  Smiling down at him, she answered, “No, William. I think having a two thousand dollar suit shredded before your eyes is punishment enough in this case.”

                  Now moving to stand in front of him, she unhooked his waistband and unzipped his fly. Still holding the knife, she commanded, “Spread your legs for me, William.”

                  Alarmed, William shook his head and tried to pull back from her.

                  Cupping his face in her free hand, the Mistress gently responded, “William, it is not wise to make me repeat myself. Now do as you are told.”

                  William averted his eyes from her gaze, but said, “No.”

                  Sighing, the Mistress asked, “No, what, William?”

                  “No, I won’t spread my legs.”

                  Narrowing her eyes, her voice took on an edge as she repeated, “No, what, William?”

                  Catching on, he mumbled, “No, Mistress.”

                  Gently gliding the edge of her knife along his throat, she asked, “Do you remember our previous encounters, William?”

                  Mutely, he nodded.

                  “Think, William. How many times during our sessions did I have you helpless? I could have hurt you many times over. Have I done you any permanent damage? Have I caused you any true bodily harm?”

                  As William considered her questions, he slowly relaxed his tensed muscles and shook his head.

                  “Now, William, spread your legs.”

                  Slowly and warily, he did as she commanded. She slipped her hand inside his fly and softly cupped him. She gently kneaded his sensitive testicles until he let out a soft sigh, and relaxed his thighs completely. Now that she has ready access, the Mistress quickly slit the inseams of his trousers and severed the zipper at its base, then peeled the ruined pants from his body. Two fast slices across his outer thighs and his boxer shorts lay in ruins as well.

                  Looking down at him, she surveyed her work, and a smile spread slowly across her face. “You are beautiful, William,” she murmured.

                  Leaning back on his braced elbows with legs parted and not a stitch on, William’s body was lean and lithe, with good muscle definition, but not overbuilt. Seeing where her attention was focused, William’s cheeks heated at her studied regard, and he felt even more vulnerable than usual.

                  “Well, then, tongue-tied and uncertain must look damn good on me. I think it’s becoming my natural state around you,” he replied boldly.

                  Hiding a smile and returning her knife to her boot top, the Mistress walked over to the chair at the head of the oak dining table. Turning it around and sitting down, she looked over at William. “Come here,” she ordered, pointing to the floor immediately in front of her.

                  Still bemused from his recent ordeal, William rose awkwardly, and obediently walked over to stand in front of her. Snapping her fingers and pointing, the Mistress sharply told William to get down on his knees. “You will never stand in my presence without permission. Now kneel.”

                  Knowing she could compel his compliance, William avoided the argument and obeyed. “Now may we talk?” he asked, his voice rich with sarcasm.

                  “In a minute,” she replied absently. “Spread your knees a little wider. Straighten your back and tighten your stomach. Lower your head and keep your gaze on the floor.”

                  Walking around him, the Mistress made a few more minute adjustments in his position, then told him, “From now on, this is the position you will assume any time I tell you to ‘kneel’.

                  “And now, William, it is time we talked. For purposes of this discussion, I give you leave to omit the proper replies of ‘Yes, Mistress,’ and ‘No, Mistress.’ However, keep a respectful tongue in your head or I will introduce you to one of my less pleasant gags.

                  “Look at me,” she directed. Looking him over, she asked, “What have you thought of our encounters, William? This is the fifth time we’ve been together, and for all but the first time you knew what to expect and could have put up a fight. Why didn’t you?”

                  Shifting uncomfortably, William didn’t know what to answer. Finally deciding on the truth, he replied, “I don’t understand it myself. I thought about it. After our encounters, I’d kick myself for not taking control, for allowing you to master me without a fight. But at the time, it just seemed I didn’t have a choice. That I had to do what I was told. I know that doesn’t make any sense, but that’s how it is.”

                  Nodding her head, she then asked, “Have you enjoyed our sessions?”

                  “Parts of them,” William responded with a wry grin. “I don’t know why, but with you I’ve had the best sex of my life. You turn me on every minute I’m with you.”

                  “That’s good, William. That was the point of our sessions,” she smiled.

                  “I’m not so sure what I feel about other parts, though,” William admitted. “Intellectually, I hate being bound and following orders, but somehow it all seems to be tied up with that great sex I mentioned. Even the beating you gave me turned me on in a strange way. At any rate, the sex afterwards was fantastic. And I can’t seem to get our encounters out of my mind.”

                  “Thank you, William,” she said gently, “for your honesty.”

                  “Very well,” a more formal note entered her voice. “In that case, I have an offer for you. You remember asking me what game we were playing? What our sessions have really been about is exploring the sexual arena sometimes called BDSM. In particular, Dominance and submission. This arena is largely about the balance of power between a Master or Mistress and their slave.

                  “I would like to offer you a chance to continue our encounters, but with a more formal arrangement, and more specific goals. In short, I’d like to offer a trade: you get the great sexual experiences you mentioned, and a chance to explore a darker side of your sexuality in a safe environment. In return, you give me your services as a sex slave. What that means is you offer me your submission and obedience during our sessions. I want your will and your body completely subservient to me when we are together. Do you understand?”

                  Stunned by her terminology, William answered slowly, “I'm not sure I do.”

                  “In some ways, our association will continue as it has. I may appear unannounced as I have been doing, and provide various experiences similar to those you have already encountered. I may also schedule time with you in advance, giving you specific directions on what to do, where to go, et cetera, like tonight.

                  “There will be training sessions where you will learn what I expect from you. We just had one where I taught you how to ‘kneel’. I will also have homework assignments for you that are designed to enhance your ability to serve me.

                  “This type of relationship relies more heavily on trust than anything you have experienced before. In essence, you agree to give up all control of a situation to me. To do that you must trust me not to exceed your limits or boundaries; because once you are collared you will not be allowed to refuse me. Part of the thrill you have experienced stems from giving up control and pushing that trust to new limits. Are you interested?”

                  “I don’t know,” William said slowly. “Do you need an answer right now?”

                  “Yes, William, I do. Let me explain it this way. You can think of me as a recruiter. I have a position to fill, and you look like a promising Candidate. You can think of our previous encounters as job interviews, and now I am offering the position to you. I have spent considerable time and energy recruiting you because I think you are a good fit, but if you are not interested, I need to move on to other likely candidates.”

                  “If I choose to accept your offer, what, exactly, is the extent of my commitment?”

                  “The commitment is for one session at a time,” the Mistress explained, picking up from the table a thin collar made of rolled tan leather. In the center was a brass setting with a ring about an inch in diameter. At the back, the circlet appeared to close with a flat combination lock much like those used on old-fashioned bicycle chains, only smaller.

                  “Each time we meet, we will go through a ritual where I offer you this collar. You must accept the collar of your own free will. Doing so symbolizes your willingness to submit to me for the duration of our session. Only you can place the collar around your neck and lock it in place. Conversely, only I can end our session by unlocking and removing the collar.”

                  “And how long would these sessions last?”

                  “That will vary, William. Part of the trust you place in me includes trusting me not to materially interfere with the other aspects of your life. Think back on how carefully I selected the times for our earlier sessions. You didn’t see me when your workload became heavier than usual, or when you had an evening event scheduled. I will continue to respect most of your time commitments, but ordinarily you will not know how long I plan a session to be.”

                  “And I can call off our agreement at any time?”

                  “Not during a session, no. And I can’t guarantee you can prevent me from picking you up and taking you to a location of my choosing, but once there I will offer you the collar. If you refuse it, you will immediately be taken back to the original location, and allowed to go on your way.”

                  The lawyer in William counseled him to refuse. There were too many unknowns in this picture, and trust was not his long suit. Previous experience, plus countless clients had taught him there was no percentage in it. And a relationship that began with his kidnapping didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

                  “Why did you kidnap me? That first time,” William asked.

                  “I didn’t kidnap you, William. You accepted my invitation. You called me.”

                  William shook his head in confusion.

                  “I told you I knew what you needed. That statement is still true, and I am offering you what you need.”

                  The Mistress held her breath. She had honestly laid out the agreement to the best of her ability, and now waited for William to decide. He didn’t know what a life changing decision he was about to make, and there was no way she could explain it to him. She could only try to ensure he didn’t come to regret it.

                  The light finally dawned on William. It was the Mistress who had sent the anonymous note to him all those weeks ago. Annoyed, he considered saying no, but the passionate side of his nature had been roused by these encounters, and was not interested in being put back on a leash. He was fascinated by her, and by his responses to her. Thinking back over the sessions they had already had, William definitely felt the pleasure outweighed the pain. ‘And I can stop the arrangement any time I want, right?’ he said to himself.

                  “I accept,” William agreed.

                  “Good, William. I’m glad,” the Mistress smiled.

                  “I do have one condition, though,” William continued.

                  “What’s that?”

                  “I want to know your name.”

                  “It’s Grace,” she said, rising and going to him. She leaned down and removed the handcuffs.

                  Picking up the collar on the table, Grace walked back over to William, where he still knelt on the wooden floor. “William, I offer you this collar as a symbol of my pledge. While you wear it, I demand your obedience and submission. In return, I will treat you as my valued possession to guard, care for, and use as I see fit.”

                  Brows knitted, William slowly took the collar from her. “What do I say?” he asked.

                  “Your response is ‘I accept your collar as a symbol of my bond. While I wear it, I offer you the obedience of my will and the submission of my body. I acknowledge your right to use me as you see fit.’”

                  Blushing, William repeated the ritual phrases, and closed the collar around his neck. At the quiet snick of the lock, his gut tightened and something deep inside him stirred. He knew the game was over, and something much more serious had begun. He looked up at his Mistress, the trepidation clear in his eyes. “What now?” he asked.

                  “For starters, William, you will cast your eyes down unless ordered to look at me, and you will address me properly,” Grace snapped.

                  Bowing his head, William quickly replied, “Yes, Mistress.”

                  Placing her hand under his chin, she gently forced his head up. “Look at me, William.”

                  William looked up, and the vulnerability in his expression was exquisite. She marveled at the strength of him, at his acceptance of this strange arrangement.

                  “It’s all right, William. I am not angry,” she said. “Now, go over to the bed, remove the pillows, place them in the blanket chest at the foot of the bed, and then position yourself on your back in the center of the bed.”

                  William rose to comply, only to be stopped by his Mistress’ voice.

                  “William, a collared slave does not stand without permission in the presence of a Master or Mistress,” Grace lectured. “On your knees. Now, try again.”

                  Humiliation flooded William’s cheeks at her words. ‘A collared slave.’ Is that what he was? His cock hardened painfully at the thought, causing his blush to deepen. On his hands and knees, he crawled across the floor to the bed. Climbing onto it, he quickly removed the pillows as directed, and then obediently lay down on his back.

                  Standing still, Mistress Grace allowed William to lie there in silence for a few minutes, studying him. She could see his confusion grow, as his muscles tensed and a look of consternation appeared on his face. Relenting at last, she smiled to herself and walked over to the foot of the bed.

                  “Spread yourself for me, William,” she directed.

                  Self-conscious and squirming with unease, William slowly parted his legs, baring himself to her. His muscles taut and breath shallow, he waited tensely for her next command.

                  Going to the side of the bed, the Mistress picked up a soft, black leather restraint that was already attached to one corner of the headboard. Moving slowly, giving him a chance to resist, she pulled his arm up, attaching the restraint to his left wrist. Walking around to the other side of the bed, his right wrist received the same treatment. Two restraints at the foot of the bed were then closed securely around his ankles, pinning him to the bed.

                  William was now stretched across the bed, his limbs splayed wide. Drawing a deep breath, he tried to relax his muscles, but his bounding pulses throbbed through his body, singing with tension.

                  “Get used to this position,” the Mistress counseled. “We will use it often.”

                  “Why?” William asked.

                  Ignoring the break in etiquette, she responded. “Because, spread-eagled is one of the most vulnerable positions there is. It leaves you totally exposed to me and helpless. And that is how I want you, William. I want you to be aware of how vulnerable you are. That I can do anything I want to you, and you are powerless to stop me.”

                  A soft moan escaped his lips as William closed his eyes and tilted his head back, surrendering for the first time. His emotions roiled as he accepted his powerlessness, and offered his submission for the first time to the mysterious woman who had claimed him. A strange stillness was his reward as he relaxed into the inevitable and ceased struggling to control the situation. His cock throbbed its need for her.

                  The Mistress smiled as she watched the small telltale muscles at the corners of his eyes and mouth finally relax. She allowed him to luxuriate in the feeling of surrender for a few moments, and then recalled his attention.

                  “William, it is time for your next lesson. I am going to ask you to comply with my wishes. I will not tell you what your reward will be, but I will show you the punishment you will receive if you fail to comply. I wish you to be completely silent until I tell you that you may speak. That means no words. None at all. As you are a beginner, groans, gasps, and whimpers will be permitted,” she smiled.

                  William felt his heart pounding in his chest. This didn’t sound good.

                  “If you fail in this, you will be gagged. And I think it is time to introduce you to one of my special gags.” Mistress Grace walked over to a cabinet set against a wall to the side of the bed, pulled out a device, and held it up for William to see. From the outside, it looked like a large baby’s pacifier, made of white plastic, with a plastic ring in the center. Attached to it on either side were two black leather straps joined about four inches out, forming a hollow triangle, each of which then joined a single strap, which could obviously be buckled behind the head. To his horror, the inside of the gag showed a flesh-toned rubber penis, more than an inch in diameter and about two inches long. William began unconsciously shaking his head in denial.

                  “This, William, is the gag I will use on you if you utter a single word without permission.”

                  “Before we start, do you have any questions? You have my permission to ask them now.”

                  “How long?” whispered William, unable to tear his eyes away from the abomination in her hand.

                  “How long what, William?” Grace asked patiently.

                  “How long do I have to submit to avoid that thing?” he clarified.

                  “Until I am finished with you, of course,” she said, smiling wickedly.

                  William groaned at her answer, and tensed involuntarily, a hollow sensation blossoming in his gut. From the drawer in the nightstand the Mistress pulled yet another black swath of fabric and bound William’s eyes. He took a deep breath and relaxed into it, allowing his head to fall back against the pillow. He was truly helpless now, and the threat hanging over his head if he failed to obey was horrifying to William. Swallowing, he clamped his jaw shut, and tensed, awaiting his Mistress’ pleasure.

                  Without warning, he felt a whispery soft caress floating over his body. Identifying it as a scarf of some sort, it caressed his skin, causing the hairs on his body to rise in response. Soon, her soft hands gently touching and stroking his body replaced the light fabric. He responded to her, sighing and squirming away from the light, tickling touches. Her touches gave way to the gentle scrape of her nails, unexpectedly traveling the length of his body. His skin was now so sensitized that he jerked in response to her breath blowing across his skin.

                  Satisfied with his responsiveness, Grace went to the small kitchen in the far corner of the room and retrieved a metal bowl from the freezer. Returning, she placed it on the nightstand nearby, removed her boots, and climbed up onto the four-poster bed, straddling William’s waist. Her dark wool skirt rode up on her thighs as she sank down onto his bare stomach, and William felt the tickle of the short hairs concealing her sex. She was again wearing nothing under her skirt.

                  “All right, William. We are going to begin. Remember, no words,” Mistress Grace cautioned. Reaching into the bowl, she pulled out two small ice chips. One in each hand, she carefully placed them against the sensitive skin just behind his ears. William’s sharp intake of breath was followed by a groan as she slid the ice chips down along his neck, to rest in the hollow of his throat. Slowly the ice melted and pooled at the base of his throat. Grace leaned forward and delicately lapped up the water.

                  As her tongue touched his skin, William tensed his body, clenching his jaw tightly. When she finished, William released the breath he was holding and relaxed his muscles.

                  Reaching for two slightly larger chips, Grace next applied them directly to his armpits, watching carefully as William cried out and arched his back, tensing his muscles again. Slowly, she moved the ice, spiraling up his biceps and forearms to rest in the palm of each hand.

                  “Don’t spill, William, or I will punish you,” she whispered softly. William’s hands trembled as the corded muscles of his neck, shoulders, and arms strained to hold perfectly still. Once the ice melted completely, she again laved his skin free of moisture.

                  Watching William relax and sigh in relief, Grace knew that he would continue to tense and relax his muscles throughout this exercise. His breathing and heart rate were already beginning to climb in response to the stress, and she knew that by the time this was over he would feel like he had run a marathon.

                  William felt his body temperature rising, and sweat breaking out between his shoulder blades. Not knowing where to expect the ice next caused his body to remain fully tensed. But his biggest fear was that he would inadvertently call out a word, and earn that repulsive gag as a punishment.

                  Shifting her position to the foot of the bed, the Mistress next ran the ice between his toes and across the instep of each foot. William hissed and jerked in response, trying to get away, but there was only so much slack in his bonds. She slid the ice up each instep to the inside of his ankles, then the backs of his knees, leaving lacy patterns of moisture as she traced across his inner thighs. He thrashed against his bonds as she continued to torment his limbs, face and neck, avoiding his groin and torso, watching as he repeatedly tensed and relaxed in the wake of her ministrations.

                  Fists clenched, a strangled groan escaped William’s lips and he clamped his jaws tighter, fighting the urge to beg her to stop. The Mistress waited for his breathing to slow, then shifted her position again to give her attention to his bare torso.

                  Two ice chips simultaneously connected with his nipples, drawing a gasp of shock from him as he arched off the bed. He writhed under her as she traced circles around each one, meandering across his ribs and sides, then back over his abdomen, to melt and pool in his navel.

                  William felt each slow, decadent stroke of her tongue as it swirled in and around his navel, lapping up all traces of moisture. He imagined her tongue on his cock, and groaned as it jerked in need.

                  “Very nice, William,” she praised, caressing the side of his face and trailing her hand down his chest. “Since you can’t speak, let’s see if we can put your mouth to some other use.”

                  Moving up his chest, she sat on him and slid her feet up to rest on either side of his head. Bending her knees, her feet reversed direction and slid under his outstretched arms, her knees pressing against his shoulders as she straddled his face.

                  Understanding what she wanted, William tentatively nuzzled the soft lips guarding her core. Hesitantly, he ran his tongue over the tender folds of skin, dipping between them and tasting her. He stroked his tongue slowly and gently over each lip, then slipped the tip of his tongue inside her wet heat.

                  Impatiently, Grace rubbed herself against his face. William’s tongue began a slow dance, sliding in circles around her sex, dipping in briefly, and then shyly pulling away. The Mistress tolerated the pace briefly, then rose up and began working herself. Rubbing herself fast and hard, she quickly climaxed. Sinking back onto William’s chest as the waves of pleasure subsided, she commented, “You could use some practice in this skill.” She added, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get it.”

                 Climbing off him and the bed, Mistress Grace reached for the bowl of ice chips on the side table. Gathering a large clump of ice in her right fist, she held it until it began to melt, then, releasing it, reached down with her wet, cold hand and cupped William’s testicles. As he jerked his head off the bed and opened his mouth in a raw scream, she plunged her tongue into his mouth, silencing him. Delving into the deepest recesses, sawing her tongue back and forth across his, taking his breath away, she left him dazed, his blood pounding in his ears, his cock stiff and throbbing.

                  Almost sobbing, William tried to gain control of himself and his ragged breathing, but the blood and adrenaline coursing through his system had set him on fire. Straining and writhing on the bed, he tried to capture her lips, kiss her skin, anything to show his need for her. Leaning forward, she took his mouth, ravishing him, sliding her hands up and down his exposed body.

                  Face red from exertion and totally out of control now, he twisted his hips, trying to rub himself against her soft curves. Small animal sounds caught in his throat, as his need raced through his veins like fire.

                  “You may speak, William,” Grace allowed, as she removed his blindfold.

                  “Please,” William ground out breathlessly.         

                  “Please, what?” she asked.

                  “I can’t take any more. Please.”

                  “Please, what?” Grace demanded relentlessly.

                  Moaning, William whispered, “Please, Mistress.”

                  Smiling gently, Grace ran a finger across his jaw, down his throat, and over to circle his left nipple. Pinching it, she said, “Good, William. Very good. But you can take more. And you will. For me.”

                  Pinching and rubbing both nipples, she ran her tongue along his neck, nipping and sucking his ear lobe. Her hands wandered, tracing slow, small circles across his ribcage and abdomen. Feeling his muscles contract, Grace slowly drew her hand lower. William’s shaft quivered, his thighs and buttocks tense with anticipation. Brushing her hand through the tangled curls, she circled him at his thick base with her thumb and forefinger. Sighing, William luxuriated in the feel of her hand on him. Slowly, she ran the palm of her hand up the length of his shaft, then drew light circles around the head. Clenching his fists with longing, William thrust his hips up, pressing his cock into her hand, wordlessly begging for his release.

                  Chuckling, she took pity on him. Smoothly applying a condom, she straddled his waist, cradling his face in her hands. Leaning down to capture his lips, she angled back and in one smooth movement encased him with her sleek wetness. Inhaling sharply, William’s circuits promptly overloaded. God, he kept forgetting how good she felt on top of him. He longed to make love to her, taking his time until she was the one writhing under him. As she slowly started riding him, rocking back and forth, he arched his back, thrusting upward to drive himself into her more fully.

                  Releasing his lips, she nuzzled his neck and her fingertips slid lightly over the delicate skin from armpit to wrist, raising gooseflesh all the way. On the return trip, her nails gently scraped along the sensitized skin, sending shudders through him. She pinched his nipples gently in time with the rhythm of her hips. As her pace increased, he braced his heels against the mattress and drove himself into her faster and more forcefully, slamming his hips into her thighs and finally sending her over the edge into her orgasm. Feeling the shuddering aftereffects of her release, he increased the pace, driving toward his own relief. “No!” she commanded sharply, slapping his chest with the palm of her hand.

                  Quickly rising from the bed, she left him straining and unfulfilled, pulling futilely at his bonds. “Please, Mistress,” he cried.

                  Shaking her head, Grace denied his pleading. “No, William. Your release is at my pleasure. You have done nothing tonight to earn such a reward.”

                  “Damn it, woman!” William exclaimed. “This is what we need to talk about. There are two of us here. Who died and made you God?”

                  “For the record, that’s Goddess, and one more outburst from you, William, and I will use that gag on you. Now, I’m going to release you, and you will come here and kneel at my feet. You have many lessons to learn before you may be rewarded.”

                  After releasing his bonds, Grace turned to move away from the bed. William leapt up and grabbed her waist from behind, swinging her around and tossing her face first onto the bed.

                  As Grace raised herself to her hands and knees, William was already on her. Arms reaching around from behind to catch her wrists, he placed one hard thigh between her knees, pressing her forward and splaying her legs wide.

                  Grasping both her wrists in one hand, he spread her legs farther apart, her skirt riding up high on her hips. Then, bracing himself against the side of the bed, he impaled her on his throbbing shaft. Reaching up with his free hand, he placed it on the nape of her neck, gently pressing her into the mattress.

                  Grace froze, and then went limp, but William, in the throes of his own passion, was so far gone on a sea of sensation that he failed to notice her reaction. With her pinned between his hips and the bed, William reached around and cupped her breast, gently squeezing it, and circled the rough pad of his thumb over her crinkly, erect nipple, drawing a soft sigh from her as he pounded his shaft deep into her hot, wet center. When he came, the explosion was so intense it rocked him to the soles of his feet. Breathless, sweaty, and spent, he collapsed atop her, unable to support his own weight.

                  A few moments went by, and then in a soft, tentative voice that he had never heard from her before, Grace asked, “Are you through with me? Will you please let me up now?”

                  Thrown by this new demeanor, William carefully turned her over, inspecting her face for any sign of the outrage he expected to see. Inexplicably, he saw a softness and timidity in her eyes, instead.

                  “No,” he said. “No, I don’t think I will let you up. In fact, I think I would like to see you tied up for a change. Yes, turnabout is fair play. We’ll talk later. Right now, I want to see you spread for me.” So saying, he placed her in the center of the bed, and drew first one wrist then the other up to the restraints that had so recently held him stretched in the same position. Moving to the foot of the bed, he captured her legs and attached the ankle restraints.

                  Stepping back to admire his handiwork, he saw that she was stretched tightly across the bed, totally vulnerable to him. Her chest fluttered in rhythm with her fast, ragged breaths, and small mewing noises were coming from deep in her throat.

                  Retrieving her knife from her boot, William cut her clothing from her body, exposing her to him for the first time. Already hard for her again, he climbed on the bed between her legs, and slowly, reverently, began to worship the goddess before him. Petting, stroking, and kissing, he learned her body.

                  He ran his tongue around her nipple, enjoying the small gasp she released, then slowly suckled her. Cupping her other breast in his hand, he gently pinched that nipple, feeling it harden beneath his fingers. As he explored her body, she was quiet and unresisting. At last, unable to deny himself any longer, he again plunged into her. He rode her hard and fast, delighting in the joy of being in control. Of his power over her. He let out a roar of satisfaction as he came, then succumbed to his exhaustion, curling up next to her with one arm sprawled across her rib cage, gently cupping her breast, his thigh pressed between her legs, and fell asleep.

* * *

                  Thirty slow minutes went by as William slept peacefully next to Grace. Still tied to the bed, she schooled herself to patience. Then, the back door to the cabin silently opened, and a tall, muscular man emerged. Stepping quietly to the bed, he held a large wad of white cotton before William’s face. Grace turned her head away and held her breath.

                  “He’s under,” reported the deeply resonant voice.

                  “Then get me out of these restraints, Richard,” Grace demanded. Once she was free, she massaged her wrists as she glared at him. “You certainly took your sweet time.”

                  “I had to be sure he wouldn’t wake,” Richard shrugged.

                  “Well, get him downstairs for processing. I don’t want him to lose more than two or three hours.”

                  “Yes, Mistress Grace,” he replied, lifting the unconscious William into a fireman’s carry and heading back through the open doorway. Careful not to bump against walls or doorframes, Richard navigated through a large, dark room, then through another door with stairs leading down to a well-lit basement.

                  The basement more closely resembled a medical facility than anything else, and, indeed, that was part of its function. Placing William gently on a padded gurney, Richard called out, “Ronnie, I’ve got your patient.”

                  A tall, slender woman appeared from another room. Her dark, wavy hair reached almost to her hips and framed an exotic face with high cheekbones and large, soft eyes, carefully concealed behind dark-framed glasses. She was wearing the two hallmarks of her profession, a lab coat and a stethoscope…over a damp green bikini that revealed her high, small breasts, long, flat torso, and lushly curved hips.

                  “You’re early,” she said, turning to Grace, who was pulling on a robe as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

                  “Yes, well, our boy’s precocious. I didn’t expect him to turn aggressive until Sunday.”

                  “Standard lab workup?” the doctor asked.

                  “Yes, do all the blood work, a brain scan, and a cardiac workup, but I also want a complete genetic profile on this one.”

                  “Will do. How long do I have?”

                  “Can you make it in two hours?” the Mistress asked.

                  “It’ll be close, but I’ll try.”

                  “Thanks, Ronnie. You’re the best.”

                  “So you keep telling me, but do I get a pay raise?” Ronnie joked.

                  “Be a good girl, Ronnie, or I’ll spank you,” the Mistress said, belting the robe and turning to ascend the stairs.

                  Turning back to her patient, Ronnie looked closely at William. “Mmm, he is a pretty one, isn’t he?” she commented to Richard.

                  “I wouldn’t kick him out of my bed,” Richard agreed.

                  “Well, let’s get started. The poor boy is going to have a headache as it is. I don’t want to have to dose him again if I can avoid it.” So saying, they wheeled William out of the corridor and into the state-of-the-art examining room, where they began the most thorough physical examination that he had ever had.

 

The Lawyer

By C. A. Taylor

6           Initiation

 

                  Around midnight William awoke to the sting of smelling salts in his nostrils. As his senses cleared, he discovered he was once again tied down. This time he was on all fours, with something soft supporting his torso. Looking up, he found himself reflected in the mirrored wall of the exercise area. He was strapped to a bench of chrome and yellow vinyl that was part of the universal gym set in that corner. The bench was about eighteen inches wide and maybe two and a half feet long. Heavy leather cuffs tied his wrists to the forward legs of the bench. His knees were forced outside of the rear bench legs, and held in place by leather straps secured just above them.

                  At his side, the Mistress stood. No longer completely naked, she now wore her thigh-high black boots and a leather harness around her hips and thighs that currently sported a narrow, seven-inch long dildo. The dildo was banana yellow, with a pointed serpent’s head, and curved upward away from her pelvis.

                  As she knelt down behind William, horrified comprehension crashed in on him. “No!” William roared. “Oh, God, please, no!” Thrashing and bucking, his muscles strained as he tried to break his bonds and free himself. Neither the leather nor the bench gave an inch. “Please, Mistress, no! I can’t. You can’t. Please don’t do this to me. I beg of you, please, no.” William whipped his sinewed body about in frenzy, seeking escape.

                  Ignoring him, Mistress Grace calmly applied lubricant evenly and methodically to the dildo, running her hand up and down its length several times. Satisfied with the results, she leaned forward and tangled her hand in William’s tousled hair, grasping and pulling his head up and back, exposing the strong column of his neck.

                  With her right hand, she sensuously trailed the back of her knife blade down his throat. William’s struggles ceased immediately, his eyes widening in fear.

                  “Be still, William,” she murmured. “I don’t want to hurt you when I enter you.”

                  William cut off a whimper deep in his throat, and swallowed. “Please, Mistress,” he begged. “I’ll do anything you want, just please don’t do this.” Alternately pleading and jerking at his bonds, he was panicking. Fear warred with anger, the adrenaline surging, but with no ready outlet.

                  Shaking her head, the Mistress moved her blade until the point was resting just under his jaw, and locked eyes with him in the mirror, arctic pale meeting aquamarine. She reached under the slave collar and gently massaged his corded neck. “Hush, William,” she crooned. “You still don’t understand. I can do anything I want with you. That is what this collar signifies. Your submission and obedience belong to me. Your body belongs to me. And I want you to know what it feels like. What I felt like when you took me. This is going to happen. I am going to take you, use you, rape you. Just as you did to me. Now, stay still. I don’t want to injure you.”

                  Shaking his head in violent denial, William hotly began, “I didn’t—”.

                  “Shh, William,” the Mistress cut him off. “You did. You overpowered me by force, held me down, and took me. Without my consent, without my permission, you used me for your own sexual needs, with no consideration for me. You raped me.”

                  William’s face flushed a dull red as fear and shame, anger and humiliation, roiled within him. Holding still required an enormous effort, but he managed it, trembling from head to toe as he absorbed the implications of her accusation. She gauged the anguished look on his face, and decided not to draw this out any more than necessary.

                  Repositioning herself behind him, she removed the knife from his throat and began massaging his butt cheeks. There was an even sheen of sweat on William, as he trembled, breath rapid and shallow. Pouring some of the lube over his tailbone, she rubbed it around with her finger, then slid it into the crack in his ass and worked her way down to his tight orifice. Pressing and circling the pink tissue, she locked eyes with William, silently demanding his submission.

                  Removing her finger, she moved into place, and grasped both of William’s hipbones, holding him steady as she guided the dildo to him. Gently pressing forward, she inserted just the head of the dildo into William’s ass. He cried out in an agony that was more spiritual than physical, and she withdrew, only to broach him again, barely sliding the tip of the dildo into him. Rocking back and forth, she continued her gentle invasion.

                  To William, the violation was devastating. His breath ragged, his chest heaving, racking sobs that he could not control were ripped from his throat. The utter helplessness of his situation was more than he could bear. Again and again she pierced him, slowly opening him up to her attentions.

                  William slowly unclenched his muscles, finding that reduced the discomfort of her assault. Following her orders, he took a deep breath and released it. As he did so, she drove the dildo farther into him, increasing the pendulum swing of her hips, as she pumped in and out. He cried out in pain as his entire body quaked with his ragged breaths. Defeated, his resistance faded and he went limp beneath her surging hips.

                  As he surrendered to her, the Mistress increased the pressure of her assault, forcing the dildo farther into him. Soon she had it buried to the hilt, and began rocking back and forth, allowing him to become accustomed to its size.

                  Using slow, measured strokes, she moved within him, pressing her thighs against his buttocks, her breasts against his back. As she changed angles slightly and increased the speed of her penetration, William discovered his prostate for the first time. Though the sensation was somewhat odd, it set up a tingling in the base of his balls, increasing the pressure building toward an unexpected orgasm.

                  Hearing his gasp, the Mistress reached forward and grasped his cock, pumping it in time with her hips. Her breath was now coming fast as she moaned in her throat. The repeated pounding of her pelvis against William had brought her to the brink of climax. As she drove William forward onto her questing hand, he suddenly let out a roar and came.

                  The power of her complete ownership of him thrilled her, and the thought of his submission was all it took for her own orgasm to rip through her.

                  Both sweaty and panting, they rested for a moment, still joined together. Then she gently pulled out of him and unstrapped the harness. Discarding it, she quickly released William’s legs, then his wrists. Drawing him to her, she held him in her arms, and they both sprawled, half-sitting on the floor.

                  It took many minutes for William to quit trembling and his breathing to return to normal. Grace patiently waited, holding him, stroking his back, his shoulders, his neck. Eventually he turned his face to her, pain and self-loathing deep in his eyes.

                  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I had no idea. It wasn’t what I meant.”

                  “I know that, William,” she replied gently, stroking his cheek. He lowered his head to her shoulder, needing her comfort, unsure what to say or do next.

                  Grace allowed William to cuddle in her embrace, accepting her comfort, until a shiver ran through his body. At that, she urged him to his feet and led him through what he thought was a back door to the cabin.

                  Instead, it opened on the largest, most well appointed bathing room William had ever seen. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all tiled in cream, tan, and green. There was one wall of lockers with padded benches in front of them. Around the corner were sinks and toilets. A large open shower with six multiple-spray heads occupied one corner. A hot tub and sauna filled another wall, and a deep soaking pool with built-in seating took up the center of the room. Shelves of towels, robes, toiletries, and more were scattered throughout the facility. Floor to ceiling mirrors lined one wall, making the huge area seem even larger.

                  Leading him over to the shower, Grace stripped off her boots, placed him under the hot sprays and gently washed him. Wrapping him in a large, fluffy towel, she slowly dried him, enjoying the feel of his body. Then, returning to the main room, she tucked him up in the large bed, and watched him drift immediately off to sleep.

* * *

                  William slowly awoke to realize he was warm, and had his arms wrapped around a cuddlesome bundle. He next realized he was stiff and sore, and had symptoms of an impending hangover. Memories of the previous night finally surfaced, and William stiffened. Shame and self-loathing poured through him as he remembered driving into Grace in his frenzied need for relief.

                  He realized he was holding her in his arms, and had no idea what he should do. Fortunately, she sighed, stretched, and rolled over to face him.

                  “Good morning, William,” she greeted him.

                  “Good morning, Mistress,” he replied warily.

                  “Please get up and get breakfast,” she ordered. “Start with coffee, and I’ll show you the rest in a minute.”

                  Relieved to have some direction, William headed to the galley kitchen while the Mistress headed for the luxury spa. Following breakfast, William discovered there was more than sex to being a sex slave. Though somewhat recovered after several hours’ sleep, he spent the rest of the day working hard. The Mistress kept him busy performing chores, learning commands and positions, and cleaning everything. She also kept him hot, hard, and unsatisfied. No amount of effort seemed to please her. Every task he performed received censure. Tasks performed flawlessly were criticized for how long they took.

                  Sunday was more of the same.

                  William’s frustration, both mental and physical, continued to build. By Sunday afternoon, he was ready to blow. Working at his latest chore, polishing the wooden bed frame, he finally threw down the cloth in disgust.

                  “What’s the point?” he asked. Completely exasperated, he stood, turned and glared at the Mistress. “What is the point of all this?” he demanded. “What does this have to do with being a sex slave?”

                  Mistress Grace tapped her black stiletto heel, crossed her arms in front of her chest and considered William carefully. She was wearing a black leather miniskirt, white silk blouse and black leather vest. Her silk stockings rustled as she moved to stand in front of him. Grasping the back of his neck, she commanded him to kneel.

                  William submitted to the pressure on his neck, but the recalcitrant look never left his face.

                  “William, the point of these exercises is to teach you the meaning of that collar. It means I can use you for anything I choose, not just as a bed warmer. Submitting to someone else’s will means doing what you are told, even when you don’t understand the reason for it. It also teaches you that your pleasure is not paramount here. Mine is.

                  Pausing, she added, “However, if you are so anxious to be used as a sex slave, I think I can arrange that.”

                  With that, she ordered William up onto the bed, and instructed him to lie face down and spread his limbs. She secured him to the restraints leaving some slack or ‘room to writhe’ as she described it. The customary blindfold followed, and then she ordered him to open his mouth.

                  Expecting the ball gag, William was appalled when he felt the long rubber penis forced into his mouth. He reared up, trying to pull back from it, but the straps were already lodged behind his ears, and he was unable to shake or push it out. The Mistress, straddling his waist, had no difficulty fastening the straps in place.

                  The rubber tip rested securely against his soft palate, not quite triggering a gag reflex, but uncomfortably close to it. William started salivating and swallowing reflexively, and his breathing quickened. He repeatedly shook and tossed his head, then tried biting down, but nothing altered the location of the gag.

                  At this point, William started to wonder if he had made a mistake. Finding himself for the first time bound, gagged and blindfolded, the full extent of his helplessness was borne in on him. She could do literally anything to him, and he was powerless to prevent it.

                  Returning to the cabinet that housed her toys, Grace selected the same flogger she had previously used on William, and brought it over to the bed. Dangling it above his spine, she allowed the tips to brush up and down his exposed body. Goose flesh broke out across his arms and legs, and the small hairs on the nape of his neck stirred.

                  “William,” the Mistress asked, “can you imagine what I will do to you if you come without my permission?”

                  William tensed and shook his head vigorously.

                  “Well,” she replied, “why don’t you think about it while I work on you?”

                  She smoothed her hand up from his flank across his back and up to the nape of his neck, then she directed him to lower his face into the bedding to protect it. Next, she ordered him to lift his hips, while she adjusted him so his cock and balls were out of harm’s way and resting comfortably against his abdomen.

                  Preparations completed, she swung the leather tails of her whip up in a circle and brought them stingingly down across William’s enticingly bare bottom. Thus began a process that would last more than forty-five minutes, and leave William with deeply reddened skin from his thighs to his shoulders. During those minutes, he learned intimately about ‘writhing room’, repeatedly stretching and twisting trying to evade the vicious licks of her whip. The Mistress also explained that he was not being punished for any wrongdoing. She was beating him for her own pleasure. She enjoyed watching him writhe.

                  Much to his chagrin, William also learned that being whipped could be an intensely erotic experience. As he squirmed under her lash, his hard cock throbbed with excitement. Rubbing against the sheets, he moved steadily closer to his climax. Unable to signal the Mistress, or advise her of his plight, William concentrated on holding still for her blows. As if she knew what he was doing, the Mistress concentrated several very sharp blows on his backside, forcing him to move. With one last shudder, he finally surrendered to his body’s needs, climaxing even as another blow landed on his abused flesh.

                  Behind his back, Mistress Grace smiled. William had shown he could be handled more roughly than she had suspected this early in the game, and she decided it was time to raise the stakes. Retrieving another toy from her cabinet, she ordered William to his knees. Still attached to the restraints, William’s head and shoulders were pressed into the bedding as he raised his hips. Grasping his sensitive sac in one hand to hold him still, Grace slowly inserted a narrow, lubed butt plug into William. Only three inches long and barely an inch in diameter, it was a gentle toy meant for beginners.

                  William flinched anyway, but settled down when no further manipulation occurred.

                  “Lie down,” the Mistress commanded.

                  William gingerly lowered himself to the bed, his buttocks clenched tightly around the flange of the dildo. The Mistress released the cords holding his restraints to the bed and ordered William to turn onto his very tender backside. Once again tying him spread-eagled on the bed, she removed his blindfold and looked into his eyes. His face was flushed and his pupils were dilated, indicating the state of his arousal. Running her hands lightly over his body, she watched as his muscles jerked from the stimulation. Satisfied, she applied a condom to his fresh erection and straddled him.

                  Hiking up her skirt, she lowered herself onto him and began rocking her pelvis against his hips. As he tightened his buttocks to thrust against her, the dildo rocked inside him. Startled, he froze in mid-motion. The Mistress sharply pinched his nipples, and ordered him to continue. He obeyed, and discovered the diabolical nature of her torture. Every time he raised his hips to meet her, the dildo rocked inside him, causing sensations that twisted his gut. However, every time he ceased to move, she again pinched his sensitive nipples, until he was seesawed back and forth between the sensations in his cock, his nipples, and his ass. The sensations quickly overwhelmed him, leaving him trembling, breathless, and hotter than he could ever remember being.

                  As the pace quickened and their passion flared, William was hyperaware of his body and every sensation registered by his nerves. Small, whimpering noises escaped from behind his gag at the intensity of the experience. Soon the Mistress slowed the pace, deliberately drawing out the ordeal. Only when William was thrashing against the restraints, head tossing from side to side, and his chest heaving like a bellows did she yield and allowed the pace to increase enough to send them cascading over the top of their orgasms.

                  William’s climax went on and on, as his body fought for its release. At last, spent, he surrendered to the demands of his body and relaxed, falling into a light doze almost immediately.

                  Some time later, he was awakened by the Mistress to find the toys and restraints removed. She provided him with sweat pants and a sweatshirt from her well-equipped spa, and walked him back down the trail to his car.

                  “Here, William,” she said, handing him a manila folder.

                  “What’s this?” he asked.

                  “Homework,” she smiled impishly. “I want you to practice the positions I taught you, and memorize the commands and hand signals in this folder.”

                  “How long do I have to memorize the information?” William asked.

                  Kissing him deeply, she removed his collar and whispered, “Until our next session.”

 

The Lawyer

By C. A. Taylor

7           Fantasies

 

                  The Mistress saw William frequently for the next few weeks. Sometimes picking him up without notice, sometimes giving him instructions in advance, he began his slave training. He began by learning the positions, commands and hand signals the Mistress taught him until he could perform them flawlessly and gracefully.

                  Then, one Friday night, William was standing outside the Kennedy Center with Jeremy and Greta Miller. They were attending a benefit for Children’s Hospital, a charity both Jeremy and William generously supported.

                  Joking with each other about their monkey suits, Jeremy asked William quietly why he hadn’t brought a date to the event. “You’ve got to get over Diana. I know she broke your heart, but she just isn’t worth it,” Jeremy said intensely.

                  As William was about to answer him, the Mistress appeared, walking out of the crowd and toward William. She was wearing a long, diaphanous gown of smoky blue. Its high, simple neckline accented her eyes, and the designer drape of the fabric highlighted her curvy figure.

                  “I’m sorry I took so long, William,” she smiled, taking his arm. Then to Jeremy and Greta, “You don’t mind if I steal him, do you?”

                  With that, she led William away from his friends. He called a hasty goodbye, then turned to walk back toward the building with her.

                  Reaching the shadows of a line of trees guarding the side entrance to the concert hall, the Mistress asked him to accept her collar. Startled, William uttered the ritual phrases, and locked it around his neck.

                  Once the collar was in place, she turned to him, saying, “Trust me, William, and trust them.”

                  Before he could ask what she meant, two hulking figures appeared behind him. Forcing a black hood over his head, one clamped a hand over his mouth and each grabbed an arm, twisting it behind his back, as they hustled him into the building. Fighting his usual panic at being blind, William was disoriented at the speed with which things were happening. He was chivvied down a corridor, then into a room. A door closed firmly behind him, trapping him in the silence with his captors.

                  As his hooded head was pulled backwards, William felt the now familiar chill of a knife blade at his throat. Swallowing, William relaxed in his captors’ arms, signaling his surrender.

                  “She told me this one learns fast,” commented one of the bruisers in a deep, cultured baritone.

                  “Let’s see if she’s right,” replied the other, his slow voice drawling with a Southern accent.

                  The room echoed with their comments as William was marched across a hard-surfaced floor, and pressed against a wall.

                  “Your Mistress told you to trust us,” the one with the drawl stated. “Are you willing to do that?”

                  William hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Since they called Grace his Mistress, he assumed they were aware of his relationship with her.

                  “Then I am going to remove my hand from your mouth. Don’t call out, or we’ll do this the hard way.”

                  William nodded again, and felt the pressure leave his mouth. He briefly wondered if he should call out, but decided to find out more about the situation first.

                  “Good. If you are willing to do this the easy way, things will go faster,” said the drawl. “You need to do three things: trust your Mistress, trust us, and follow orders.

                  “First, we are going to release your arms. When we do, you will lean against this wall, hands and feet spread wide. Do not attempt to remove the hood.”

                  William did as directed.

                  The drawl ordered, “Move your feet back further. I want more of your weight balanced on your hands.”

                  William complied, and then the drawl continued, “My partner is going to strip you. Can you handle that, or should we restrain you first?”

                  “Why? What’s going on? Where is Mistress Grace?”

                  “All you need to concern yourself with is following her orders. Now, answer the question.”

                  William tensed, thinking fast, then said hesitantly, “I think I can handle it, as long as it stops there.”

                  “We’ll keep you informed of what is required of you,” the drawl replied.

                  “Why?” William asked curiously.

                  “Because trust is easier to come by if there aren’t a lot of surprises,” the drawl chuckled.

                  William was tense and his blood was pounding in his ears as he tried to follow their orders. He fought down his panic, knowing they could overpower him and compel him to their wishes if he did not cooperate. His cock stirred at the thought, and he flushed, hoping they hadn’t noticed his reaction.

                  The baritone then stepped up behind William and took the lapels of his Hickey Freeman tailcoat in his hands. “Lean your chest against the wall so I can remove your coat,” he directed. He placed one thigh between William’s legs, pressing his hips firmly against the wall, as he drew William’s arms back and removed the coat.

                  As William’s arms were freed from the coat, a hand caught his wrist. “Your jewelry and other effects will be kept safe for you,” the baritone told him, removing William’s Harvard class ring and wristwatch. Next, the gold cufflink was removed, then the collar and shirt studs from his tuxedo shirt. His bow tie was next, and finally, the cufflink and Masonic ring were removed from his other hand.

                  “Now your shirt,” the voice stated, suiting actions to the words.

                  “Place your hands back on the wall,” came the next direction.

                  “Will you please handle the shoes?” the baritone asked, apparently addressing the drawl.

                  “Certainly,” the drawl replied.

                  William felt the shoelaces being eased on his dress shoes, then was told, “Bend your left knee and raise your foot behind you.”

                  A pair of hands stripped off his shoe and sock, and then the right shoe and sock were removed.

                  “Place your hands behind your back.”

                  William knew what was coming, and wasn’t very comfortable with the thought. “Do you really need to cuff me?” he asked. “I’m cooperating, aren’t I?”

                  “Yes, you are behaving very well,” the baritone admitted. “But the program calls for cuffs, and I’d just as soon get them on you now.”

                  Sighing, William reluctantly placed his hands behind him and allowed his wrists to be secured in handcuffs. The familiar feeling of helplessness engulfed him.

                  “I’m going to empty your pockets,” the baritone informed him. Followed by, “The belt and trousers are next.”

                  Even though William knew this was coming, he was terribly uncomfortable with the prospect of being blind and naked in front of these two men. The drawl apparently sensed this, saying, “It’s all right. We’ve been in your place ourselves, one time or another. You’ll be safe, I promise.”

                  Trying to be as matter-of-fact as his captors were, William held still as his boxers were removed.

                  “On your knees,” was the next command.

                  “I’m going to remove the hood and replace it with a fitted blindfold. Keep your eyes closed,” ordered the drawl.

                  Once the padded blindfold was secured, William was told to open his mouth.

                  “You’re in for a long night, son,” said the drawl. “These pills will help ease the aches you’ll have in the morning.” So saying, he placed some pills in William’s mouth, then guided a straw to his lips. William swallowed the pills and water without comment.

                  “Now the gag,” stated the drawl. Knowing resistance would gain him nothing, William opened his mouth to accept the ball gag that was placed in his mouth. The leather straps were drawn tight behind his head, forcing it far back into his mouth. William took a deep, steadying breath and tried to remain calm. He trusted the Mistress, but the strain of being handled by these men, and not knowing what was going on, was beginning to tell.

                  “Now, I am going to place a very tight cloth hood on you. This will guard your identity during the upcoming event,” informed the drawl.

                  William struggled to hold still as a black spandex hood was pulled down over his head and secured under his chin. Not even the color of his hair was now visible. The drawl took pains to ensure William could breathe freely and that the hood was seated properly for comfort, the slave collar clearly visible below. He disliked the sense of enclosure, but was thankful he was not subject to claustrophobia.

                  William was then raised to his feet, one of his handlers on each side of him. He was taken from the room and down a long corridor. They handled him more gently this time, presumably as a result of his earlier cooperation. He was eventually led into a large room with many other people in it. William halted and began struggling at the idea of being exposed in public. His handlers stopped and gave him some time to adjust to the situation, reminding him that no one knew who he was. He flushed at the thought of being naked in front of so many unknown people, and he was intensely grateful for the anonymity afforded by the hood. Eventually, William calmed down enough that they could proceed into the room.

                  Almost immediately a fourth person walked up to them, and he heard his Mistress’ voice. “You’ve got him prepared? Good.” He felt her familiar hand on the back of his neck. Her touch helped to release some of the tension singing in his body. He felt her unlock the handcuffs, and he dropped his hands to his sides, awaiting direction. His hands trembled slightly from the adrenaline running through his veins.

                  “Raise your hands,” she ordered. He did, and his hands were manacled high above his head, stretching him out to his full length. He felt the two men step away from him, leaving him alone with the Mistress.

                  “William, you are going to be displayed here for a while, probably the next hour or so. You will never be left alone. I, or someone I trust, will monitor you the whole time. You will be safe, but various guests may wish to touch you or make comments to or about you. You will in no way acknowledge any comments or questions, and to the best of your ability, you will ignore any handling you may receive. Do you understand?”

                  Helpless to express his questions or doubts, William could only nod acceptance of her instructions.

                  Caressing his neck in approval, the Mistress instructed William to widen his stance and keep his head up. She stroked his cock and fondled his balls until they were tight and alert, then she rolled a rubber cock ring down over him, looping the strap carefully around his sac, pulling it tight against his erection.

                  With a parting pat on his bottom, she left him. William listened tensely to the crowd around him. It sounded as though he was in a very large space, and the milling people sounded like they were at the county fair, appraising livestock and standing in line for attractions.

                  Before long, he heard two women conversing as they approached him.

                  “Look, Sylvia, here’s another novice,” said an excited voice.

                  “Ooh, Torrie, you’re right,” a second voice responded, “and isn’t he delicious!”

                  “No wonder Mistress Grace has been keeping to herself if this is what she’s been working on,” Torrie commented.

                  “Yeah, with equipment like this at home, I’d never leave either,” Sylvia replied, stroking William casually.

                  “I wonder how sensitive he is,” mused Torrie, and reached out to pinch one of his nipples.

                  William flinched away from the contact, clenching his fists tightly.

                  “Isn’t he delightful!”

                  “I’d still like a shot at that new girl Roland is grooming. Let’s go see if we can get near her,” Sylvia commented, as their voices receded behind William.

                  He barely had time to catch his breath, however, before a large, calloused hand grabbed his buttock and began kneading. A second roughened hand closed around his balls as a deep, gravelly voice rumbled from above William’s head, “My, aren’t you a pretty one. Tell me, has your Mistress taught you to suck dick yet? ‘Cause when she does, I’d be happy to help with your training,” the voice chuckled evilly.

                  “T. J., what are you doing with my novice?” the Mistress’ voice demanded. “You know he’s not in your league, so quit tormenting him.”

                  “Aw, Grace, honey, you know I can’t resist a sweet little thing like him.”

                  “Well, you’ll just have to this time, because he is not available. Why don’t you go check out Damon’s stock? They are more likely to cater to your tastes.”

                  T. J. rumbled something indistinct as he turned away and headed off after other pursuits.

                  The Mistress gentled William, running her hand down his spine and said, “Don’t worry, William. I won’t require anything of you that you can’t handle.”

                  William hoped that was true, as he tried to relieve the tension in his shoulders. He had a few minutes respite in the ebb and flow of the crowd before more interested onlookers approach him.

                  “Oh, look, Sean, here’s Grace’s new boy. Wouldn’t he be nice to try out?”

                  Sean responded, “Looks like he’s all yours, honey. His listing indicates he is only available for public service to quote women of childbearing years unquote. The donation is two thousand dollars a ride, so apparently Mistress Grace is pretty proud of him.”

                  “Oooh, I like the sound of that! Where do I sign up?”

                  “Right here, dear. Are you sure you want him? He is a little on the expensive side.”

                  The woman ran her hand lightly down William’s rib cage, causing him to shiver, then circled his cock with her hand. It jerked in response, and she said, “Oh, yes. Look how responsive he is. If I can have him, I won’t ask for any other treats tonight.”

                  “Sure thing, honey. I hope you enjoy yourself. Now, let’s go look for someone to tend to my entertainment. After all, it’s for a good cause.”

                  Time passed slowly for William, as various people were drawn to him. He endured their comments and touches as stoically as he could, but his agitation continued to ratchet up until sweat beaded his skin and his breaths were fast and shallow.

                  After an eternity, Grace returned to him. The two men he thought of as his handlers for the evening were with her, and one of them detached his handcuffs from the overhead hook that had been holding him. He brought his hands down in front of him, allowing feeling to flood through his arms and hands.

                  “All right, William,” the Mistress said, “Clasp your hands behind your back.”

                  William obeyed, and then felt her fingers at his collar. He realized she was attaching a leash of some sort to the brass ring, and flushed at the thought of being led around like an animal.

                  “Come,” is all she said, and the two men fell in at either side of William, guiding him as he was led through the crowd. Their destination was one of several spot lit stages at the front of the large auditorium. The men helped William up onto the platform, then Mistress Grace directed him until he was lying on his back on a soft, raised surface, his arms secured over his head, and his legs manacled to a two-foot long chain run through an eye bolt in the floor.

                  The spotlight warmed his skin as William tried to relax into his bondage. Being naked in public did not make the task any easier. Shortly, an announcer’s voice was heard over the speaker system.

                  “Next on the auction block is a new novice being trained by Mistress Grace. This is his first public appearance, and he is only available for single rides with the lovely young ladies present here tonight. The first ten ladies only, please. Donations are set at two thousand dollars per ride. It’s for a good cause, folks, so let’s not be stingy.

                  “Oh, and I see his dance card is already full, so sorry to any of you who didn’t make the list. Maybe next time.”

                  “All right, William. Think back to your fantasy, the captured warrior used as breeding stock. Tonight, that’s who you are,” Grace breathed. Then added, “Don’t come.”

                  Aroused and unsure, William waited. He didn’t have long to wonder, however, as he was straddled by two smooth legs. A condom was applied, then without further preamble, his stiff cock was engulfed in a heated glove. The unknown woman began grinding her hips against his, working his cock deep into her. Moving slickly along his length, she soon settled into a rocking pattern designed to drive them both to the edge. As her excitement increased she rocked harder, pounding herself against William’s pelvis until she gave a low moan, her muscles rippling along his cock as she came. She lowered herself to his chest briefly, catching her breath, then rose off him without a word.

                  William’s purple-headed arousal strained toward the ceiling, throbbing and aching. Soon, another woman mounted him, applied a fresh condom, and then slowly impaled herself on his erection. Using more finesse, she began slowly rising and sinking on his long pole, her juices making the action smooth and easy.

                  As her heat grew she speeded up, grinding in a circular pattern and moaning deep in her throat. Finally, in the throes of her passion, she began bucking against his hips, breathing deeply as she pounded out her orgasm. William nearly reached his own peak, but she stopped and lifted herself from him, leaving him unfulfilled.

                  Grace stepped up onto the platform, bent down and whispered into William’s ear, “These women are paying for a ride with a stud, not for a dead ass. Now, either you get busy and rock their worlds, or I’ll have you turned on your stomach and offer you to the first ten cocks I can find. I’m sure T. J. is still around here somewhere,” she threatened.

                  William swallowed convulsively, and then nodded his head.

                  Grace stepped down from the platform to silently observe the next ride. Patron number three was promptly given the ride of her life, William driving his hips into her like a piston. She cried out as she climaxed, William pounding into her until the last shudders quieted.

                  Still unable to attain his own release, William continued to service the women to the best of his ability—which was considerable, once he was properly motivated.

                  Moving aside, Grace turned to the tall baritone who had been working with William tonight, and asked, “What did you give him?”

                  “Two Ecstasy and two Viagra,” was the answer.

                  “Stephen Parks,” snapped Grace, glaring up at him. “He’s an untrained novice wearing a cock ring, and you give him two and two? The poor boy will be blue balled for a week! Honestly!”

                  “It’s not my fault, Grace. I didn’t know you were going to use a cock ring—or forbid him to come. I was just making sure he had the stamina to perform.”

                  “Right. Well now you can just make sure he is taken care of. Give me the key to your penthouse, and get lost for the weekend. No, wait. First find Reggie and Ronnie and tell them to get their asses over to your place. They can help with the training and his overexcited libido.”

                  “But, Grace,” Stephen began.

                  “I don’t want to hear it, Stephen. He is not ready to go to my place and I can’t make arrangements for an alternative location this quickly. Now give me that key.”

                  Meanwhile, William was diligently working his way through the ten women who had signed up on his list. A gathering crowd watched and commented on his prowess and responsiveness. His Mistress stood quietly behind the stage, watching him and the spectators, satisfaction clear on her face. Making a decision, Grace sought out the first two names on the list and brought them over to observe with her. After a few minutes, she offered each of them a return engagement with William. Both accepted eagerly.

                  As William finished satisfying the last patron, the Mistress stepped up next to him. A sheen of sweat covered his body, and his breathing was labored, but the Mistress was proud of him. “You have acquitted yourself well for your first time, William,” she praised. “And Children’s’ Hospital will appreciate the donations,” she added.

                  Stephen and his partner quickly disconnected his bonds from the dais, and helped him off the platform and back to the original dressing room. They silently fastened his handcuffs behind his back, then draped a full-length black cape over him. Stephen pulled the hood up over his head far enough to shroud his covered face in shadow.

                  William felt strangely disconnected from the proceedings. Exhausted, yet still aroused to the point of pain, his mind shied away from the fact that he had just had sex a dozen times with different women in front of an audience. He had never been so grateful that he had no tattoos or other identifying marks on his body.

                  The Mistress and his handlers swiftly maneuvered William outdoors and into a waiting car. Grace sat in back with him, the driver obviously knowing their destination. After a short ride, she helped William from the car, and instructed him to stay close to her. She unobtrusively took hold of his arm, and guided him across the black and white marble lobby and into a waiting elevator.

                  Again riding to the top floor of the Washington landmark, she guided William to the end of the corridor and used the key card to gain entrance.

                  Once inside, Grace removed his cloak and conducted William to the middle of the living room, then commanded him to kneel. She carefully removed the constricting hood, ensuring his blindfold remained in place.

                  The Mistress removed his ball gag, and then headed to the kitchen. William worked his jaw, enjoying the freedom of movement. Grace returned with a bottle of water from the fridge and carefully held it for him. He drank greedily, slaking the parched tissues of his mouth and throat. William silently concluded he would never learn to enjoy being gagged.

                  The Mistress moved across the oriental carpet and settled gracefully onto an overstuffed chair facing William.

                  “How do you feel?” she asked him.

                  “Like I’ve been run over by a truck,” William responded candidly.

                  “Fair enough,” the Mistress chuckled, “but I’d like a little more detail. Tell me what you felt when I left you with my two assistants.”

                  William’s brow furrowed as he considered her request. He hadn’t had time to analyze his feelings, and things were far too chaotic to be clear at the time. Slowly he put his thoughts together, replying, “It all happened so fast, I didn’t have much time to think. The first thing I clearly remember was one of them asking me if I trusted you, and if I would trust them as you had asked. I think I agreed more out of reflex than any considered decision, but it worked out. It was scary, though. Not knowing what was going to happen, especially after they cuffed me. That feeling of helplessness never gets any easier to take.”

                  “What happens after you start feeling helpless?” Grace pursued.

                  “It depends. Either I get really edgy and the adrenaline starts pumping, or sometimes, with you, I’m able to just relax into it—like there’s nothing I can do about it, so just go with the flow.”

                  “Um-hmm. And how did you feel about being displayed in front of an audience?”

                  “Part of me was, and is, very angry with you. It was a dirty trick to do that to me with no warning.” He sighed. “But part of me has figured out that you make the rules and that once I accept the collar, all bets are off.”

                  “And your fantasy? How did you like that part, William?”

                  “I was so busy in the here and now, especially after you, uh, motivated me, that I never really got into it.” He shrugged. “Maybe fantasies in general are better in your head than in reality.”

                  “Thank you, William,” the Mistress said quietly, “for your honesty. Back to feeling like you’ve been hit by a truck. Did you mean that physically or emotionally?”

                  William snorted. “I was thinking of the physical, but it’s not a bad description for my head, either,” he grinned.

                  “Dealing just with the physical for a moment, does it involve anything other than some stiff muscles and a raging hard-on?”

                  Shaking his head wryly, William replied, “No, that about sums it up. Should I assume my evening isn’t over, yet?”

                  “With me, you should never assume anything, William,” Grace replied. Going over to him, she reached down and released the handcuffs. “Feel free to stretch a bit, William, but please stay on your knees.”

                  “What about the blindfold?” he asked.

                  “No, that stays on just a little longer,” she replied.

                  William swung his arms about a bit, massaged his wrists, then reached over his head in a long, smooth stretch. Shaking his shoulders loose, he settled back down, awaiting further developments. He found he was a little numb after all that had happened to him tonight. He couldn’t even generate much fear or concern about what was next.

                  Then, “Cross your wrists in front of you, please,” came the order. Intrigued by the new command, William held out his arms. A supple leather thong was wrapped repeatedly around his wrists, securing them firmly together. “Place your wrists behind your neck,” was the next direction. As William followed the order, a hand reached down and released the cock ring. He sighed in relief as the constriction was removed.

                  Once his hands were in place behind his head, a hand unfastened the blindfold. William blinked against the sudden light. Looking up he was stunned to find the Mistress nowhere in sight. Instead, two beautiful Amazons stood to either side of him. Easily over six feet, slender and elegant, with smooth mocha skin, their identical features branded them as twins. They had long, dark hair drawn up into ponytails at the crown of their heads, high cheekbones, wide mouths and pointed chins. In keeping with their exotic looks, they were both dressed in tanned leather halters and skirts, each with knives belted at their waists, and they were both carrying spears, the sharp metal points aimed at his bare torso.

                  “On your feet, slave,” one said, roughly grabbing his arm and hauling him up. “The Priestess has sent for you, and you will not keep her waiting.” They forced him quickly along the hall of the penthouse, turning into the last door on the left.

                  William halted inside the doorway, taking in the scene. Weapons, trophies, and animal skins covered the walls of the room. Drums thrummed quietly in the background, accompanied by deep chanting. The room was lit entirely by candles, dozens of them. It was bare of furniture, except for a mattress lying in the middle of the floor, covered with a brown animal skin, fur side out. And standing there was the Mistress, wearing a heavy copper torque, long earrings, and a sheer white ankle-length gown. Belted at her waist was the familiar dagger.

                  Using their spear hafts, the Amazons forced William to his knees. “On your knees, slave. You will grovel at the feet of our Priestess.”

                  “Yes,” the Priestess said. “You are no longer a warrior, and I will have none of your insolence. You were taken by might of arms, and your life is forfeit to our tribe. You live only so long as you are of use.”

                  Looking at the two Amazons, the Priestess said, “Bind him.”

                  While one stood over him, her spear pointed unwaveringly at his breastbone, the other stretched him out on the fur-covered mattress, securing his arms above his head. She then wound more leather thongs around his ankles, and secured them to an eyebolt in the floor. About now, William discovered that the only thing sexier—and scarier—than being tied down and at the mercy of a beautiful woman was being tied down and at the mercy of three beautiful women. He wisely kept that thought to himself, though the evidence of his arousal was plain.

                  “Your usefulness lies in your ability to sow your seed,” the Priestess informed him. “If you are capable, and prove virile, you will stand at stud to improve our bloodlines. If not, well, the fields always need more slaves—while they last.”

                  The Priestess knelt down and straddled William’s recumbent form, slowly opening herself to him, sinking down until she was impaled on his bare cock. Settling herself firmly, she reached up and pinched his sensitive nipples. William writhed in response, groaning, and trying to escape her hands as she worried the tender tips. This only drove him further into her, and she nodded in satisfaction.

                  “Serve me well and your life will not be unpleasant,” she promised, as she began to rock against him. At her urging, William began pumping his hips, driving into her, his cock straining for release. As aroused as he had been all evening, it did not take him long to approach the edge of his control. He tried to hold back, not knowing if he should seek permission before coming, when he felt her muscles clamp down on him like a vice. The tight, rippling sensations immediately sent him over the brink and he lost all control, climaxing at once, calling out and pulsing into her in long shudders.

                  The Priestess rode him until his tremors ceased, then climbed off him, patting him on the cheek. One of the Amazons sank down next to him, and glided a warm, wet cloth over his sensitive shaft and sac. She cleaned him carefully, then, laying the cloth aside, began to stroke him with her hand. This time the fantasy got to William. He was unable to prevent this, unable to resist their attentions. These women were truly using his body, with no regard for his needs or preferences. He was surprised how quickly he responded to her attentions. In minutes, he was hard for her, unable to keep his hips still as she worked him. Groaning, his cock ached with longing, knowing he was at her mercy.

                  Smiling, she straddled him and slowly inched herself onto his erection.

                  “What about protection?” William asked belatedly.

                  “It’s safe,” the Priestess replied. “Don’t worry.”

                  The sigh the Amazon let out as he filled her was one of pleasure and satisfaction. As she set the rhythm and began rocking her hips against him, he responded to her. Her slick, wet heat felt wonderful and he thrust himself into her, meeting her passion with his own. She increased the pace, urging him on with her moans. Helpless to resist her, William was awash on a sea of sensation and emotion. Rational thought was beyond him as the heat and softness of her body played on his deepest needs. His body had become conditioned to being in an aroused state, and he eagerly accepted the opportunity for some relief. He came again within minutes, and was allowed to rest only until his body again responded. Following the same ritual cleansing by the second Amazon, he was so turned on it didn’t take long until his cock was stiff enough to mount.

                  The third ride took longer, but William again climaxed as the fantasy worked its magic on his body. His was their slave, his body subjugated to their will, and he must please them. His fantasy and the reality of the role he played with the Mistress intertwined, leaving him hard again almost immediately.

                  “Leave us,” commanded the Priestess, and the two warriors silently departed. William watched them go in silence, then returned his gaze to the woman who had taken control of his life. Being bound, naked, and at her mercy excited him beyond measure. She was unlike anyone he had ever known, and he both feared and craved her.

                  In silence, the Priestess applied a blindfold. This time the unreasoning panic was absent. William relaxed, knowing if anything was required of him, he would receive direction. For the moment, he just enjoyed being sated and in her presence.

                  The Mistress removed the leathers binding his legs and helped him to his feet. She guided him to the master suite at the end of the hall. Once inside she took him into the bathroom, removed the leather binding his wrists, and then the blindfold, and told him to shower, and then come to her in the adjoining room. “You may take your time, William,” was her parting comment.

                  He did take his time, luxuriating in the warm water, allowing it to soak out the aches and tension he had accumulated over the last several hours. Clean, dry, and toweling his hair, William emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam. The Mistress was now dressed in a slinky black chemise and silky shorts, and was waiting for him, propped up on the pillows in the center of a king-sized bed.

                  “Come here, William, and kneel,” she directed, pointing to the area at the foot of the bed.

                  As he obeyed, the Mistress looked at him and said, “You’ve been very quiet this evening. Tell me what you are thinking about.”

                  “I’ve been thinking that you are not really a cop,” William stated. “Are you?”

                  “Does it really matter?”

                  “I’m just curious.”

                  “You are curious about a lot of things, aren’t you, William?” she challenged.

                  He looked up, capturing her cool blue gaze and replied, “I’m busy trying to figure you out. Or maybe trying to figure me out, I’m not sure which.”

                  He paused and she nodded for him to continue. “Our previous encounters had a certain set of rules to them.” He hesitated, then continued, “I’m not sure I understand everything about that dynamic, but at least I knew a little bit of what to expect. Handcuffs. Blindfolds. Orders.” He grinned. “Great sex.”

                  “Today, all the rules seem to have changed, and it leaves me feeling confused and uncertain. Uncomfortable. And I really didn’t like being naked in public.”

                  She nodded. “I understand, William. And that is the point. I don’t want our sessions to become routine. I don’t want you to know what to expect, either from me or from yourself. Part of this exercise is about exploring new territory. Do you understand?”

                  “Maybe. Is that why I had unprotected sex with you three?” he asked, troubled.

                  “No,” the Mistress smiled. “That was because of your fantasy. Your test results came back negative, and I could vouch for the test results of the three of us. Usually we will use protection anyway, but it was safe not to, and would have distracted from your fantasy.”

                  “I see,” William responded. “But all this still makes me uncomfortable.”

                  “I can live with that,” she said, grinning slightly. Getting to her knees, she slowly peeled her top off over her head, revealing her naked torso. Her breasts were not large, but they were full and smooth, sagging slightly, but with upturned perky pink nipples.

                  As he watched, drinking her in, she slipped her hands into the elastic waistband of her shorts, and slid them smoothly down her hips, allowing them to puddle at her feet. As usual, she was not wearing underwear.

                  William hardened immediately as he gazed on her naked body. Her hips were round and full, and her thighs thick and strong. Her skin was smooth and tanned, with small strawberry freckles occasionally dotting her skin, and a tan line indicating she wore only a thong in the sun.

                  He noted that she, too, was a natural blonde, with a neatly trimmed triangle, pink lips peeking out of the lush golden hair.

                  Sinking down on the bed, she tossed her discarded clothing aside, and, laying back against the pillows, spread her legs and softly whispered, “Make love to me, William.”

                  Stunned, William quickly went to her, and, kneeling down to one side, he gazed on her ripe body. Lowering himself to his side, he braced his head on one hand, looking down at her, deciding where to start. Gently tilting her face to him, he began placing feather light kisses on her upturned face. Kissing her brow, cheekbones, and the tip of her nose before he moved to her mouth, where he lightly traced her lips with his tongue, teasing her. Then, his soft lips gently touched hers, requesting entry. As she opened to him, he slowly and leisurely took possession of her mouth.

                  As his tongue lazily explored her, a ball of heat began to grow in her middle, quickening her breath, releasing her passion.

                  Finished with his minute exploration of her mouth, William moved on to trace her jaw line with his tongue. Tilting her head again, he sucked and nibbled on her earlobe, then traced the pink shell of her ear with his tongue, finally plunging his tongue inside. Hissing with pleasure, she arched her back, exposing her throat to him.

                  Accepting the invitation, William lazily trailed kisses down her neck and across her shoulder, where he stopped to nibble for a while. Then, wandering back, he captured her nipple in his teeth, gently worrying it. Taking her other breast in his hand, he rubbed the rough pad of his thumb across the nipple, teasing it.

                  William continued to suckle her breast, devoting total concentration to his task. Then, gently kneading her other breast, he moved his lips over to fasten on that nipple, lest it feel neglected.

                  The Mistress sighed as a frisson of pleasure threaded from her breasts to her throbbing core.

                  William’s hand then trailed across her rounded belly, and dipped into the wetness between her legs. Sliding gently up and down, he probed her with two fingers, gently sliding them into her sleek, wet center. Rocking his fingers back and forth, he was rewarded by her indrawn breath as she spread her legs wider for him.

                  William ran his fingers expertly along the tender wall, searching for her G spot. His efforts were rewarded when she moaned, undulating her body and pressing herself more firmly against his questing fingers. Slowly rubbing up and down, he teased her with the tantalizing sensations. Meanwhile, his thumb dipped gently between her pink lips and probed until it found her hard nub. Rolling his thumb around the base, he traced a smiley face back and forth beneath it.

                  Shifting his position, William released her nipple and glided down her stomach to her wet sex. Replacing his thumb with his tongue, William gently licked her clit, and nibbled it with his lips.

                  The Mistress wantonly raised her hips, pressing herself against him, and William grinned. Still working her with his fingers, he gently took her into his mouth and sucked her. Crying out, she spasmed, slipping into her first orgasm of the night. William smiled to himself in male satisfaction. “What was that about my needing practice?” he asked smugly.

                  William shifted his position until he was kneeling between her legs. Gazing down at her full-blown womanhood, he murmured, “You are a goddess. So responsive. So beautiful.” She smiled and relaxed into the delight that was William.

                  He hooked his elbows under her knees, spreading her wide to him, and took her buttocks in his hands. Thus controlling her, he bent forward and began his assault in earnest. Licking, lapping, nibbling, and sucking, he soon had her writhing. She reached a hand down to the nape of his neck, pressing him to her.

                  William took her wrist and placed it above her head, moving the other one to join it. “Uh-uh,” he murmured, “this time I’m driving.”

                  He continued his slow assault, bringing her to the edge but never letting her fall over it. Her breathing became ragged and small, animal whimpers escaped from deep in her throat, and still he continued. Finally, he ran his tongue over her nub one last time and then carefully, suddenly, bit down.

                  A scream tore from her lips and she came immediately. Releasing her, he continued to tongue her in rhythm to her undulating spasms, drawing out her orgasm as she experienced the petite mort.

                  He waited for the last ripple and shiver to pass, and then looked up at her. She was relaxed in a pose of utter abandon, head thrown back, arms akimbo, and knees wide; she was the very picture of satiation.

                  As she slowly recovered, he positioned himself more comfortably between her legs. Spreading his knees, he settled himself before her, and gently inserted the tip of him into her. Only entering her an inch or two, he then pulled completely out. She moaned a protest as he rubbed himself against her wet lips, then again pushed just the head of his cock into her, and removed it.

                  Teasing her, he continued this game until she moaned, “Please, William. I want you inside me. Now.”

                  “If you want me, you must address me properly, and beg me for your release,” William said firmly.

                  “Please, William,” the Mistress pleaded.

                  “You know what to do,” was his answer.

                  Looking into his eyes, the Mistress surrendered and said, “Please, Master, I beg you to grant me my release.”

                  Soaring with joy and power, William grinned triumphantly as he plunged his cock deep into her. Moaning in pleasure, she writhed under him, grinding her hips against him, rising up to meet him as he plowed into her.

                  Driving his hips into her, he took both of them into the storm. They both climbed towards the precipice, and cried out in unison as they crashed over the top, falling into the bliss of their pounding orgasms.

                  Sweaty and breathless, William pulled on the bed covers and settled them both under them. Sated, content, and no longer confused, William fell asleep, cradling his Mistress in his arms.

                  The Mistress rested in his arms, reflecting that William was a natural at power games. If she could only get him through his training, he would be truly magnificent.

 

The Lawyer

By C. A. Taylor

8           Plaything

 

                  William woke at dawn to the Mistress rhythmically grinding her hips as she pumped up and down on his morning erection. His hands were secured above his head, and she was once again dressed in a black skirt and white blouse. Calling out as she reached her climax, he felt her spasm around him. Lifting his hips, he thrust into her, extending her orgasm as she shuddered her pleasure.

                  As the waves dispersed, she looked down at him, smiled, and said, “Good morning, William.” As he started to reply she rose up and dismounted him, then removed the condom she had been using. Disappointment warred with irritation on William’s face, the irritation finally winning.

                  “You got yours, now what about me?” he queried.

                  “William, remember your manners,” she chided.

                  “To hell with that, woman. Untie me,” he demanded.

                  “William,” she repeated, warningly.

                  “Untie me, dammit,” he demanded, his temper starting to rise.

                  Sighing, the Mistress gently placed her fingers over his mouth, silencing him. “William, you were granted a very rare privilege last night, but the nature of our relation-ship has not materially changed. Now, you will address me properly and respectfully, or I will gag you. Is that clear?”

                  Fuming, William remained silent, glaring up at her, his chest heaving.

                  The Mistress simply waited him out. It was important to restore the balance of power to continue William’s training. Nothing would be worse than to create a slave who tried to control his Master or Mistress, rather than submit.

                  Slowly, William’s breathing returned to normal, and the tension drained out of his body. A sense of the ridiculous saved him, as he realized he had been throwing the adult equivalent of a temper tantrum. Sighing, he responded, “Yes, Mistress. I’m sorry.”

                  Caressing his cheek in approval, she reached up and unlocked the red neoprene restraints, leaving them buckled on his wrists, but no longer connected.

                  “Come, William,” she ordered. Getting up, she went to a set of sliding glass doors and opened them. Shaking his head at his own response, William slowly followed, crawling out of the bed and into the early morning sunshine.

                  Looking up from where she sat near the pool, the Mistress told William to fetch some juice from the kitchen. “And, William,” she added, “don’t touch yourself. I want you erect and wanting right now.”

                  Muttering under his breath, William stalked off to do her bidding. Once he was away from her, however, he decided to relieve himself—in more ways than one. After detouring to the bathroom and masturbating himself to a climax, he went about finding glasses and orange juice. Thinking about the Mistress’ naked body and her responsiveness last night was more than sufficient to raise another erection, but one far less urgent and throbbing.

                  Returning to the terrace, William found the Mistress waiting for him, a cold look in her eyes.

                  “Place the glasses on the table, William,” she directed evenly.

                  When he had done as she commanded, she continued, “Kneel, William, hands behind your back.”

                  Somewhat surprised, William complied. He heard the small snick as the padlock closed, fastening his wrists together.

                  Walking around in front of him, the Mistress looked down at him, her face harsh with disapproval. “You have disobeyed me, William,” she stated.

                  Startled, he began to deny it, but, on looking into her eyes, he decided to hold his tongue. The seasoned negotiator in him knew not to antagonize her further.

                  Turning her back on him, she walked over to a large gym bag and pulled out something that looked like a child’s toy. It was bright blue and yellow, made of plastic or rubber. As she returned to him, he saw that it was a blue rubber cylinder about four inches long and half an inch in diameter. The center two thirds of the bar was covered in yellow foam rubber, shaped like a football. Dangling from each end of the cylinder hung a metal D-ring with a leather strap attached.

                  Kneeling down at William’s side, she placed one foot behind him, thigh parallel with his hips, then, placing one hand under his chin and the other at the nape of his neck, she bent him backward, supporting his shoulders on her outstretched thigh. William yelped in surprise as he was overbalanced and landed helplessly stretched backward, face up, knees still bent under him, his bound hands almost touching the ground.

                  Holding up the colorful rubber bar, the Mistress explained that it was a bit gag. “Open your mouth, William,” she ordered.

                  Clamping his lips tight and shaking his head, William refused.

                  “William, you are trying my patience,” the Mistress replied. “I am going to punish you for your disobedience, and I don’t want to wake the neighbors. I am not interested in entertaining visitors at the moment. Now, open your mouth.”

                  As she repeated her order, she clamped down on his nipple, twisting it viciously. William involuntarily cried out, and as he did so, she shoved the rubber bit into his mouth, wedging the blue rubber bar well back against his molars. With his tongue pinned under the yellow foam rubber, he had no way to dislodge the bar. He lay panting, mouth open, and lips drawn back. She quickly righted him, setting him back on his knees, and fastened the leather straps in place behind his head.

                  “Come, William,” she said once again, taking his elbow and leading him over to a bench near the pool.

                  “Kneel.” She pointed to a spot near the end of the bench, as she seated herself upon it, and raised her skirt up to her waist, exposing her thighs. With William kneeling at right angles to her, she ordered him to lean forward over her lap. Pushing the sleeves of her blouse up well above her elbows, she bent William’s elbows, raising his hands until they rested in the small of his back. Then, placing one hand on the nape of his neck to hold him in place, she swung her other hand up in an arc, bringing it down to smack solidly against William’s exposed behind. He yelped into the gag and jumped at the unexpected assault.

                  Running her hand over the cheek she just smacked, the Mistress raised her hand and brought it down on his other cheek, pushing William slightly forward with the momentum of the blow.

                  Steadying him, she began to rain blows down on his backside in a slow, steady rhythm. Each blow pushed him forward, then he was rocked back into place by the hand at his nape, and each time his cock rubbed back and forth across her bare thighs. Within minutes, William was as hard as he’d ever been, while his bottom was hot and stinging.

                  The Mistress paused, saying, “William, unless you want bruises on your ass for the next two weeks, stop clenching your cheeks. Relax into it, and think about why you are being punished.”

                  Mortified, a deep blush slowly stained William’s cheeks as he realized that he had been acting like a spoiled child—and that was exactly how she was treating him. Resolving to take his punishment with dignity, William deliberately relaxed his muscles, settled deeper onto her lap, and stoically took his beating.

                  “Better,” the Mistress approved. After several more minutes, she paused again, placing her hand against his stinging buttocks, testing the heat coming from them. She gently scratched one nail across the inflamed skin, and William winced. Satisfied, she raised her hand from his neck, telling him to sit up.

                  Releasing the strap behind his head, she removed the bit gag from his mouth, then removed the small padlock fixing his hands behind his back. His bottom throbbed in time with his pulse, and felt twice its normal size.

                  “Go get your orange juice, William,” she told him. “I know how much the bit gag dries out your mouth.”

                  She turned to the intercom near the bar and said, “Reggie. Ronnie. Report to the terrace.”

                  William tensed, expecting the two handlers from the night before. He was not looking forward to seeing them again naked, especially with the evidence of his recent spanking visible to all.

                  Instead, the two Amazons walked through the French doors from the living room. Each knelt gracefully in front of the Mistress, executing swan-like obeisances, foreheads to the ground and arms sweeping around.

                  “Good morning, dears. There wasn’t time for introductions last night, so let me correct that now. William, meet Reggie and Ronnie. Regina, Veronica, this is William.”

                 “William doesn’t know our routines yet, so please assist him with breakfast. William, do as they tell you.”

                  William went with the girls to the kitchen where he quietly followed their orders, fixing their breakfast. Once it was ready, Mistress Grace dished a plate piled high with food and sat down in the shade of the curving veranda, leaning back in a lounger. Mildly, she told William he could eat on his knees if he preferred that to sitting. The twins silently brought crystal bowls of water with them, and then sat quietly at either side of the Mistress.

                  William was shocked to see the Mistress hand feed each of the beautiful women from her plate as if they were pets. William’s cheeks heated with embarrassment for them. He couldn’t imagine the humiliation if the Mistress were to treat him that way. However, none of them acted as if anything out of the ordinary was taking place. At least, not until Regina missed a piece of French toast. The powdery white sugar splashed across the tip of her breast, encrusting her nipple.

                  The Mistress casually slid her hand under the offending breast, drawing it toward her. Regina rose up on her knees and leaned forward, allowing the Mistress to suckle the sugar from her breast.

                  “Naughty girl. You will be punished for that later,” the Mistress commented. She then returned to eating her breakfast and feeding the slave girls.

                  Once breakfast was finished and cleaned up, the Mistress suggested, “Why don’t you girls help William with his grooming while breakfast settles?”

                  Giggling, the girls each grabbed one of his hands and scurried off with him. Forty-five traumatic minutes later they emerged from the penthouse. William’s hair, nails, and cuticles had been trimmed, and his face and balls scraped free of stubble. His blood pressure was still elevated from watching Ronnie wield a straight razor.

                  Without comment, Mistress Grace told them, “Girls, take William for a swim.”

                  “Can we play with him, Mistress?” Regina asked saucily.

                  Grinning, Grace answered, “Yes, you can play with him, as long as none of you come.” Looking at William, she added, “William, do as they tell you.”

                  Reggie and Ronnie exchanged evil grins, and William looked at them warily. Veronica looked at Grace and asked, “Can we please have a padlock, Mistress?”

                  “William, can you swim?” the Mistress asked.

                  “Yes,” William answered cautiously.

                  “Fine. Here’s the padlock. Remember, he’s a novice, and you’re all going to have a busy day, so don’t wear yourselves out.” With that motherly advice, Mistress Grace retired to the house, leaving William facing two young women with grins the Cheshire cat would envy.

                  “Okay, Billy, kneel,” Reggie ordered.

                  “My name is William,” he responded, offended.

                  “Not today it isn’t,” chimed in Ronnie. “On your knees, Billy, or it will go harder with you.”

                  Never doubting that for a moment, William sank to his knees, shaking his head and wondering how he ever wound up in such a situation. In a calm, businesslike manner, Veronica drew his wrists behind his back and fastened the restraints together with the padlock. William patiently waited for the next command, certain he knew what it would be.

                  “Into the pool, Billy,” came the expected demand. “We’ve got games to play.” Regina informed him.

                  Rising, William slowly walked over to the pool, and entered it, taking the steps one at a time.

                  Ordered to the middle of the pool, William waited while the girls took up stations at either end. Displaying a red plastic ring to him, Veronica explained the rules of their first game. Basically a game of keep-away, the girls would throw the ring to each other, and William was to try to take it away from them. The ring was only in play so long as it was not in the hands of the twins, and, with his hands tied behind his back, he had to catch or retrieve the ring in his teeth.

                  William realized that if he stopped to think about the game he would become either too furious or too humiliated to play. Knowing the inevitable outcome of either response, he simply told his brain to shut up and gave his best efforts to the childish game. It didn’t take long, however, before William realized the word ‘childish’ had no business in a game involving three healthy, attractive, naked people. Especially when the two attractive, naked females delighted in rubbing their hands and bodies against him every chance they got.

                  Keeping score, the twins decided the game was over when William had captured the ring four times out of ten. They then moved on to their next game, which involved larger, thinner plastic rings, and an impromptu game of horseshoes, using William’s erection as the stake. This time, William’s job was to try to dodge the rings, and he was more successful, avoiding six of the ten rings.

                  Laughing, they dragged a winded William out of the pool and first dried themselves off, then made a major production of drying William off, pinching and petting as they went. Giggling and dragging William through the French doors, they immediately went to their knees, pulling William down with them, as they spotted their Mistress. She was seated in an armchair of beige antique silk, working on a laptop. Removing wire-framed glasses William had never seen before, she looked up at them.

                  “Mistress,” Veronica began, “may we take William to the padded room?”

                  The Mistress eyed them consideringly, then decided, “Yes, so long as there are no gags, and you leave the grill open. Are you planning on using any toys?”

                  “Just my hair box,” piped up Regina.

                  “That will be fine. No more than an hour, however. You will all need your rest.”

                  With that, William was again hustled down the hallway he entered the previous evening, this time being pushed into the first room on the right. William halted in consternation. The room was completely covered, walls, floor, and ceiling, in white vinyl. It was soft with some spongy material behind it, and black studs pressed deep into the vinyl every four or six inches or so, giving it the look of a bizarre quilt. The room was about twelve feet square, and even the door was covered in padded white vinyl, with the exception of a one foot square metal grill allowing outside observers to see in.

                  Veronica approached him. “We are going to secure you to the padded floor and play with you. Are you going to cooperate, or should we plan on forcing you? Either way is fine, I’d just like to know which you prefer.”

                  William eyed her as the strong, confident male he was. Certain he could resist them, he was still curious about what they intended. “I think I’d prefer to avoid force,” he said. “Someone could get hurt that way. Would you care to tell me what you have in mind?”

                  “Oh yes,” broke in the irrepressible Regina. “We’re going to tie you down and try to make you come. The Mistress said we’re not allowed to, so the game will be who can make the other lose control.”

                  “Does that mean I get a chance to make you two lose control?” asked William.

                  “Sure,” Reggie shrugged. “But we’re not novices,” she taunted.

                  “One question before we begin,” William asked. “How old are you two?”

                  “Above the age of legal consent, if that’s what’s worrying you,” Ronnie replied, a smile of derision curving her lips.

                  “Okay,” William shrugged. “I retract the question, at least for the moment.”

                  “So, what’s your answer?” asked Reggie. “Are you going to cooperate, or not?”

                  “How about a third option?” William suggested. “What if I agree to cooperate, but we hold off on tying me down? If I fail to cooperate, you two can always use force to restrain me later.”

                  They looked at each other, silent communication evidently taking place. “Agreed,” said Ronnie. “We only have an hour, so let’s get started.”

                  “Then how about removing these cuffs?” William returned.

                  “I’ll unlock them, but I think we’ll leave them in place, just in case we need them later,” Ronnie replied. Suiting her actions to the words, she unlocked the padlock and released William’s hands.

                  “I’ll be right back,” said Reggie, darting out the door.

                  “Where do you want me?” William asked Ronnie. She directed him to the center of the room, and had him lie on his back, spread-eagled.

                  “Now, you must pretend your wrists and ankles are pinned to the floor. No matter what we do to you, you cannot move them. Understood?”

                  William nodded his understanding, and waited. He was willing to play their game, but felt a lot better knowing he could respond if necessary.

                  Reggie returned carrying a purple plastic box about the size of a shoebox. As she opened it, William craned his head to see what it contained. He was baffled but relieved to find it held all sorts of paraphernalia for women’s hair. He was therefore confused when Reggie calmly sorted through the box and removed four plain elastic ponytail holders, one pink, ruffled ring of fabric, and six unidentifiable items made up of elastic connecting two plastic marbles together.

                  Picking up the pink scrunchie, Reggie turned to William and gently gathered his balls in her hand, then slid the scrunchie over them, winding it around them several times. Startled, William barely remembered to keep his arms and legs still as she worked. The resulting sensation was not painful, but the constriction made him very aware of that part of his anatomy.

                  Next, she picked up one of the elastic hair ties. Stretching it carefully over her fingers, she gently manipulated one of William’s balls into her hand, and slid the elastic over it, tightening the skin of the sac over the testicle. Again, the sensation was not painful, but William was aware of the pounding of his blood through that part of his body. Reggie continued the process until there were two elastic hair ties binding each testicle. “These are the four rings you missed in our earlier game,” she informed him.

                  Now Ronnie moved to his side, and took possession of the elastic and marble items. Three of them had pink plastic marbles, and three had purple marbles attached. Approaching William, she gently ran the palm of her hand up his partially erect shaft from base to tip. It jerked in response and she smiled. Then, making a circle of her thumb and forefinger, she began gently sliding up and down his shaft, bringing him to attention.

                  Looking him in the eye, she said, “How about a blowjob, Billy?” She laughed as his cock stiffened at her words, then bent forward, placing her lips over the head of his cock. Gently sucking, she swirled her tongue over the crown, and then delved into the indentation immediately below. William inhaled sharply in response. Ronnie proceeded at a very slow, gentle pace, engulfing him in her mouth, sucking gently as she withdrew, then repeating the process. William felt the blood rush to his groin, engorging his cock, the blood pounding through his constricted balls. The sensation was unique and tantalizing.

                  Satisfied with the results of her ministrations, Ronnie rocked back on her heels, and reached for one of the pink ponytail holders. She threw a warning glance at William, and told him to hold still. Then she pulled the elastic tight and wrapped it around the base of William’s cock, securing it by looping one of the marbles over the other one, forming a very tight cock ring.

                  Picking up a purple holder, she repeated the process, securing it immediately above the first cock ring. Alternating colors, Ronnie placed all six elastic rings tightly around William’s cock, the last one resting just below the crown. “These are for the six rings you missed in our game of keep-away,” Ronnie explained unnecessarily.

                  Though not actually painful, William felt the blood pumping forcefully though his erection and balls, sensitizing every nerve. He began to doubt the outcome of their upcoming contest, as his heartbeat increased in response to the new sensations in his groin.

                  “I get to ride!” called Reggie gaily.

                  “Why do I have to put up with his maiden voyage?” demanded Ronnie. “You know most men don’t have the vaguest clue about a woman’s body.”

                  William quirked an eyebrow at her in challenge, saying mildly, “Maybe I’ll surprise you.”

                  Reluctantly, Ronnie straddled him, sliding her legs under his arms until she rested comfortably against his shoulders. William reached up to guide her sex to his lips, but Reggie called, “Hey, no fair. No hands.”

                  “I’m not holding her down, just guiding her,” William responded.

                  “It’s okay, Sis,” Ronnie said. “Let him have his turn.” Looking at him she added, “By the way, you’ve only got fifteen minutes.”

                  Nodding his understanding, William continued his interrupted task, settling her comfortably in front of him. Parting his lips, he just grazed the trimmed, spring-like hairs of her outer lips, his warm breath teasing her. She sighed in pleasure and opens her knees further, granting him fuller access to her sensitive core.

                  Slowly increasing the pressure of his lips, William brushed up and down the length of her gateway, waiting for the stimulation to cause her lips to engorge and open to him. He then gently inserted just the tip of his tongue into her moist cleft, tasting her, teasing her. As she relaxed back against his chest, William began running the tip of his tongue up and down her outer lips, dipping in and out as he went, taking his time, making sure she was fully aroused before continuing.

                  Slowly, he learned her body, flicking his tongue back and forth, up and down. As she became wetter, he moved his hands inside her thighs, stroking her as his tongue continued its assault. Moving upward, he touched the inner folds of her core for the first time. She hissed in pleasure at his delicate touch. Taking his time, he gently worked around the tissue, feeling it slowly engorge until it opened like a flower, revealing the round nub at its center. She tensed at his first touch, so he backed off, continuing to lave and suckle the surrounding petals.

                  Finally, he found the rhythm she needed, the long strokes of his tongue causing her to writhe above him. As he patiently continued, she began moving with him, moaning deep in her throat as she neared her climax. William continued his patient assault until Ronnie tried to pull away from him. Gripping her hips, he held her in place and speeded up the rhythm, sending her cascading into her climax.

                  William looked up at her, grinning in male satisfaction, but she did not return his smile. “We aren’t supposed to come, William. The Mistress will not be pleased,” she said, rolling off him.

                  Wounded, William’s pride came to his rescue. “To hell with that. What does she think is going to happen when she puts three horny, naked sex slaves together? I say we should take advantage of the situation, even if we have to take our punishment later.”

                  Reggie looked at Ronnie and said, “He does have a point, you know. We’re going to get it anyway; we might as well have some fun first.”

                  Slowly Veronica nodded, sighing. “It’s too late to close the barn door now, the stallion has already escaped,” she noted, quirking her lips.

                  “Good!” William clapped his hands together. “Now, who’s next?”

                  “I am,” Reggie replied. “It’ll be more fun if you are up for the ride, anyway,” she teased.
                  William lay back and spreads his arms wide. “I’m all yours,” he grinned.

                  Giggling, Reggie moved over beside him, then straddled his waist. “Do you still want my hands tied down, or can I help?” William asked her.

                  “Oh, help, by all means,” Reggie replied. “This’ll be great. We don’t get to please ourselves very often.” With that, she shifted her knees backwards until she was straddling William’s bound erection, and slowly impaled herself. William let her set the pace and get used to him as he stroked her hips and back with feather light touches. Apparently the marbles were not a problem for her, though, as she soon settled into the age-old rocking motion guaranteed to bring fulfillment.

                  William let her control the ride as he took her breasts in his palms and rubbed them in circular motions around her nipples. Reggie moaned at the attention, and increased the pace. William joined her, lifting his hips in time with her, driving himself deep into her heat. As he took control, his hands slid down to her waist, encircling it and pulling her to him with every thrust.

                  Reggie cried out with each stroke, encouraging William to take her faster and harder. Wrapping his arms tightly around her hips, he rolled over on top of her. Bracing his weight on his hands, he rose up above her and began pounding into her like a steam-driven piston. Her cries of encouragement became louder and more incoherent as he drove her toward her orgasm, and when she reached it, she cried out with the power of it. William continued to ride her, and just as she came down from one peak he pushed her over into a second one.

                  As the echoes reverberated through her, William stopped, cradling her in his arms, and allowed her to catch her breath. “Whew,” she said, looking up at him. “Forget what I said about you being a novice!” He chuckled low in his throat, and gently withdrew, still holding her close.

                  After a few minutes, Reggie rolled over and got to her feet. William sat up and said, “Well, girls, that was nice. What’s next on our program today?”

                  “Oh, no,” Ronnie intervened. “We’re not through with you. If we’ve got to take the punishment for coming, so do you.”

                  “I don’t think so, ladies. How are you going to force me if I’m not tied down?”

                  Ronnie quirked an eyebrow at Reggie, who picked something out of her hair box and held it up. It was a black elastic circle about two inches in width. With it in one hand, Reggie launched herself at William, plowing into his chest and forcing him onto his back. Quickly she straddled his chest and looped the headband around his throat, passing one end through the other, creating a makeshift choke chain.

                  William grabbed her thighs, preparatory to throwing her off him, but stopped at Ronnie’s shouted warning, “Don’t, William! You’ll get hurt.”

                  “Let me explain,” Reggie said levelly. “I’ve got my wrist wrapped in this band. If you throw me off you, it is going to tighten about your throat.”

                  “So what?” William demanded.

                  “So, when your oxygen supply is cut off you will pass out. And you will wake up to find yourself tied down so thoroughly you’ll be begging the Mistress for help before we are done with you. If that thought doesn’t appeal to you, how about you just relax and let us have our fun?”

                  It didn’t take William long to assess the situation and agree with her. “All right, you got me fair and square. I give.”

                  “Maybe,” said Ronnie, “but I think we’ll use that padlock anyway.” So saying, she grasped William’s hands and pulled them over his head, snapping the padlock in place. She then pulled on one of the black pins that formed the “quilting” of the vinyl pad. It sprang up and she slid the loop of the padlock into it before rotating it back to its recessed position. Thus, William once again found himself on his back with his arms bound over his head and attached to the floor. With Reggie still sitting on his chest, he was effectively pinned in place.

                  “All right,” Ronnie said, “my turn to do the honors. Spread your legs, Billy.” With that, she settled herself comfortably between his legs, and, starting at the bottom, began to remove the ponytail holders from William’s cock. The sensation of returning blood flow was painful, and he groaned. Ronnie removed them one at a time, allowing the circulation to return slowly. By the time she finished, William’s cock was throbbing, and felt three times its normal size.

                  Ronnie then leaned forward and began to lick his shaft, starting at the base and working her way slowly to the tip. In fitting revenge, she took her time, licking and nibbling at the tender skin as she moved up and down his length. William groaned repeatedly at this treatment, as his already sensitive cock was teased mercilessly. At length, she moved her attentions to the crown, swirling her tongue around him, lapping up the pearl of fluid at the tip.

                  William shifted his hips, urging her to take him into her mouth. “Please, Ronnie, no more teasing. I can’t take it,” he begged. He spread his legs wide in invitation as she yielded and took him into her mouth. Opening her throat, she glided down to engulf him all the way to his base, sending William out of his mind. No one had ever been able to take all of him before, and the sensation was incredible. Ronnie sucked gently, running her tongue back and forth across the tender underside of his erection as William moaned and squirmed in pleasure. Brushing her hand across his balls, she could feel they were already tight and drawn upward towards his body. Knowing she didn’t have much time, she settled down to a smooth rhythm, stroking her pursed lips up and down his length, gently sucking him into her mouth and throat.

                  William strained to hold back, her mouth felt so good he wanted to draw this out, but his control slipped with each stroke. At last, with a deep-throated growl, his control vanished and his climax roared through him, spasming through his groin almost painfully.

                  Ronnie milked him with her mouth, drawing every last tremor out of his body as he tensed, muscles straining from the sensations rocking his body. With one final shudder, he relaxed, spent and breathless from the power of his orgasm. Ronnie slowly leaned back, releasing his now flaccid member. With gentle hands, she removed the elastic bands and scrunchie from his balls, then got up and helped her sister to rise. William was still recovering his breath when he saw the two sisters freeze. Turning his head to look, he saw Mistress Grace standing in the doorway, looking coldly at the three of them.

 

The Lawyer

By C. A. Taylor

9           Lessons

 

                  “Girls, go to your room and take a nap. I’ll deal with you later.” Silently the girls fled from the room, leaving William alone with the Mistress. Without a word, the Mistress walked across the room and bent down to release William’s cuffs from the floor.

                  “Follow me,” she ordered. She led him back outside to the marble pillar used for his photo session, and this time placed him facing it. She again ascended the stepladder and ordered William to raise his arms over his head while she attached his restraints to a pulley recessed in the overhead marble slab. Stepping down, she adjusted the tension until William was stretched up on the balls of his feet and tied the rope off to the pillar in front of him, locking him in place. Silently, she walked away, leaving him stretched to the limit, tied facing the marble column. Sweat broke out on his body as he waited for her to return, wondering what his punishment would be.

                  After an eternity lasting less than twenty minutes, the Mistress emerged, her hair pulled back from her face, fresh makeup applied, and wearing a black, sleeveless cat suit that hugged her body. She was again wearing black, spike-heeled boots and her wide leather belt. Tension immediately coiled deep in his gut, his cock hardening and balls tightening.

                  She stepped behind him and ran her hands up and down his rib cage and over his flanks, causing him to shiver. “William,” she asked, “have you ever heard of naughty children being required to select their own switch for a beating?”

                  William shivered again, but wisely remained silent.

                  “No? Well, lucky for you, I’ve selected a switch to use on you.” The Mistress showed him the thin, supple rod in her hand. About two feet long and a fraction of an inch thick, it was wrapped in black leather. William looked at it as if it were a snake.

                  “Please, Mistress,” William said, dutifully waiting for permission to continue.

                  “No, William,” the Mistress responded. “There is one rule that will always apply during our sessions, and that is, ‘I make the rules’. It seems you need to be reminded who is in charge, so here is that reminder. I am going to use this quirt on you, William, and it is going to hurt. Quite a lot, in fact. And while I use it you are going to stand very still, and you are going to be very quiet.”

                  “Yes, Mistress,” William responded, not wanting to make things any worse. Fearful of what was to come, William was also excited. This was the powerful, mysterious, unpredictable woman he’d spent his nights dreaming about. His body tensed in expectation.

                  The Mistress first walked around him, making sure he had good footing and that he was not stretched beyond his ability to tolerate the pain. Then, taking a stance behind and to the left of him, the Mistress brought her whip down across the top of his reddened buttocks, leaving a bright red welt.

                  Hissing in pain, William clenched his teeth and his fists as a line of fire burned across his backside. Waiting for the pain to crest and just begin to subside, she then laid a line of fire two inches below the first. William arched his back and rose up even higher on his toes as a jolt of electricity ran through him, causing his cock to jerk, but whether in pain or arousal William did not know.

                  The third stripe was laid across the fullest part of his bottom, and tears sprang, unbidden, to his eyes. His bottom felt like it was twice its usual size, and it throbbed in time to his heartbeat, and his erection. Breathing harshly, William concentrated on staying still and quiet.

                  The Mistress paused and roughly kneaded his buttocks, causing the fire to reignite. William flinched away from her touch, but she grasped his cock and squeezed hard. William’s breath exploded from his chest, and he almost came on the spot.

                  Stepping back, the Mistress resumed her stance. As the fourth blow fell, a groan was torn from between his clenched teeth. His shoulders were tightly bunched, his head down as he fought for control.

                  Stepping up to him, she stroked his neck and shoulders, then pumped his cock as she murmured, “Only one more, William. Stay with me.”

                  Taking a deep breath, he nodded and closed his eyes, tense and waiting. With deadly accuracy, the Mistress took aim and laid the final stripe in the sensitive curve where his ass met his thighs. A cry was torn from William’s throat at the pain of this last blow. It was much worse than any of the others, and tears fell from his tightly closed eyes. The pain radiating from his abused bottom was almost more than he could bear. The Mistress rubbed the tip of the whip across his throbbing erection, and he came immediately.

                  Shuddering, William’s arms and shoulders suddenly released as he finally gave himself over to the pain. Panting, eyes closed, William retreated into a corner of his mind, alone with the throbbing ache and fire that was his body.

                  Understanding the process, the Mistress left him alone for a time, not talking or touching him, but keeping a watchful eye on him, knowing that when this stage ended he would collapse and be weak as a kitten. Climbing the ladder for the final time, she released his wrists.

                  Slowly reaching out and touching just his hand, she led him, glassy eyed, back to the bedroom, and placed him face down on the bed. She stayed with him, running her hand through his hair until he fell into an exhausted sleep.

                  Leaving him there, she headed for the twins’ room to mete out their punishment.

                  Once that chore was completed, she picked up a towel, removed her clothing and headed to the pool, luxuriating in the feel of the water on her skin. Cool and relaxed, she returned to the penthouse and dressed quietly, this time in a turquoise blue cotton blouse and skirt set and sandals. Then, picking up a book from the library, she stretched out on a chaise lounge in the living room, and settled down to wait.

* * *

                  William woke to a raging thirst. An injudicious movement reminded him of his recent ordeal, and he gingerly got up and slipped off the bed. The sun told him it was well past noon. Walking into the kitchen, he saw the Mistress leaning against a couch, watching him.

                  Erring on the side of caution, William got to his knees, looked at her, and said, “Please, Mistress.”

                  Smiling her approval, the Mistress said, “Yes, William. What is it?”

                  “Is there still some water in the fridge?”

                  “Certainly, William. Help yourself.”

                  Downing one bottle without stopping, William helped himself to a second, and then turned to her, politely asking, “Would you like something to drink?”

                  “No, thank you, William,” she replied.

                  “Please come here,” she said next.

                  William walked over to her and knelt down.

                  Pointing to the oriental carpet at her feet, she indicated William should lie down. He stretched out carefully at her feet, the muscles running sleekly under his golden skin. She picked up a tube of ointment he hadn’t noticed beside her. Moving carefully, she straddled his legs, and then inspected his bottom carefully. The almost perfectly spaced welts were raw and angry, but the skin was still intact.

                  Reaching for the tube, she commented, “This won’t be pleasant going on, but it will help with the pain,” and then proceeded to lightly and carefully rub the white cream well into each of his welts.

                  Hissing in pain, he gasped at the pressure as she worried his tender, inflamed buttocks. The cream was cool on his skin, and as she moved across his behind, the pain in the areas she had already treated began to decrease. When she was finished, she climbed off him and resumed her seat on the chaise lounge. William rose to his hands and knees and looked over at her, a wry grimace on his face.

                  “You will find you can sit back on your haunches, if you are careful,” she commented, reading his thoughts. He tried it, and settled down with a sigh of relief.

                  “Now what?” he asked, grinning.

                  The Mistress cocked an eyebrow at him, instantly erasing his grin.

                  “I-I’m sorry, Mistress,” he stammered, bowing his head.

                  She lay back, resting her head on her arm, spread her legs, and pulled up her skirt.

                  “Pleasure me, William,” she ordered.

                  Eager to please, William quickly knelt between her legs, and bent to his task. Working slowly and methodically, William’s tongue moved over her, laving the pink lips, sucking on them until they swelled with her desire. Sliding his tongue between her lips, he began working his magic on her.

                  The Mistress relaxed and spread her legs wider, enjoying his attentions. He took his time with her, and slowly drew her to orgasm, and then again. As she came spiraling down from her second climax she murmured, “That’s enough, William.”

                  He stopped immediately, and she pulled him down to rest his head on her thigh, lying on his side between her legs. Absently, she ran her fingers through his hair, petting him.

                  William was again amazed at this woman. The casual affection she displayed toward him now was at such odds with the commanding presence that dispensed pain and pleasure so readily. He relaxed next to her, but a low-grade hum seemed to run through every nerve ending in his body. He was aware of his body, and hers, as never before. His butt still throbbed and he was still hard, and yet he was at peace. He revisited the space he went to after the whipping was over, and wondered at himself.

                  William had never been one for introspection, until recently, that is, and he was very surprised at that space. It was a place where all the cares and details of life disappeared. In that moment, there was nothing but his physical body. He was nothing but his body. The pain ebbed and flowed through him like a living thing. It seemed to blot out his personality, indeed, his mind.

                  Putting that aside for later reflection, he chewed on the question of his sexuality. That whipping constituted the most pain he had ever endured in his life, and he had a hard-on the whole time. He came when she touched him with her whip. He didn’t think of himself as a deviant or pervert, yet he knew that he would immediately be labeled one if he dared discuss this with anyone else. Anyone except, perhaps, the Mistress. She seemed to understand and accept his responses better than he did. Not knowing where else to turn, he reluctantly decided to broach the subject with her.

                  “Mistress?” he asked, looking up at her.

                  “What is it, William?”

                  Taking a deep breath, he said, “May I ask you something a little bit personal?”

                  Raising her eyebrow, the Mistress responded, “You may ask, William. I don’t guarantee to answer.”

                  “I was just wondering where you learned to do this. I mean, you seem to be equally adept at dispensing pain and pleasure. How did that come about?”

                  The Mistress looked steadily at William, measuring him before she responded. “If I’m reading you correctly, what you really want to know is how I use pain to cause you pleasure. Is that it?”

                  William shrugged. “Sort of. I guess I just wanted to know if that was a very common response.”

                  Mistress Grace tapped him on the shoulder, indicating he should let her up. Sitting up, she resumed her place leaning against the couch, and smiled gently at him. He settled carefully on his haunches at her side.

                  “Yes, William, it is not only a common response, but virtually a universal response. You see, the human body is hard-wired to treat pain and pleasure as equals. In fact, the brain releases the same chemicals in response to both pain and pleasure. And pain and pleasure responses both use the same neural highways to send their impulses to the brain.

                  “We all have a dark side, William. It’s just that not everyone has the courage to let his or her dark side out and play with it. This society doesn’t encourage experimentation of that sort. I happen to think it is wiser to know yourself, and what you are capable of, than to hide a part of who you are from everyone, yourself included.

                  “Does that answer your question?”

                  “I don’t know. I guess I’m just concerned that being turned on by a whipping makes me a freak.”

                  “No, William, it doesn’t make you a freak. It makes you a very sensual person, capable of responding to a wide range of stimuli. You respond to kisses and caresses, as well, don’t you?”

                  “Well, yes, but—”, he began.

                  “In time, you will find you are capable of responding sexually to things you can’t even imagine now. For instance, would you believe it is possible to bring a person to orgasm using only your voice? Without any physical touch at all?”

                  “No, but—”, he tried again.

                  “William, the reason you were chosen by me is that you are highly sensual, intelligent and adaptable. I might add you are sexy as hell,” she continued with a grin, “but that is a bonus, not a requirement.”

                  William flushed at her comments, but he also relaxed a bit.

                  The Mistress rose from her couch and walked over to the intercom system on the wall. Activating it, she said, “Ronnie, Reggie. Report to the living room. Bring a selection of restraints with you. And the timer.”

                  Entering from a hallway off the kitchen, they moved silently, each carrying a leather box. Moving to the carpet in front of the Mistress, they knelt, placed the boxes at her feet, and gracefully lower their heads to the floor, hands sweeping the carpet to rest near their ankles.

                  “Rise, dears,” the Mistress ordered. Both heads came up, and their hands move to rest on their thighs. “Kneel back,” she commanded, and they sat back on their haunches, straightened their backs, and raised their heads, keeping their eyes on the floor.

                  “William needs a little demonstration, but before we get to that, I want him arrayed a little more formally. He is accustomed to handcuffs, so I think we’ll continue with those,” she mused.

                  “Ronnie, please pull the drapes,” the Mistress ordered.

                  Instead of closing them, she pulled them away from the wall and William discovered they were concealing an entire wall of padded vinyl, with eyebolts evenly spaced every six inches from floor to ceiling.

                  Meanwhile, at the Mistress’ direction, Reggie placed handcuffs on William, securing his hands behind him. With her body shielding the view from the Mistress, she also took a moment to pinch William’s butt. Sore as it was, he couldn’t help flinching, but he said nothing.

                  “William, please rise and stand with your back against that wall,” the Mistress directed. William complied, turning to face the Mistress, who was still reclining on the chaise lounge.

                  “Ronnie, attach his collar comfortably to the wall. I want some slack there. And Reggie, you take his ankles. Use the leather restraints. William, spread your legs for us.”

                  Heat thrumming through his body, he followed the directions. Legs spread, the ministrations of the two beauties attaching him to the wall were enough to bring him to full attention. Ronnie also managed to caress his sore bottom, unseen, as she checked to make sure his collar had plenty of play in it.

                  With his hands bound behind him and his feet firmly against the wall, William was again forced to arch his back, thrusting his hips forward. The position elongated his abdomen, showing off the washboard muscles there, as well as making his erection the centerpiece of the display.

                  “William, I want you to observe only. You may save any questions for later, as I don’t want the twins distracted. Regina, give me the timer.”

                  “Veronica, please be seated on the carpet, facing William. That’s right. Now, lie back, spread your legs and raise your knees.” Veronica gracefully adopted the required position, settling herself catlike into the pose. Next, she moved her arms away from her body in response to the Mistress’ command. “Freeze, Veronica,” came the final order. She was now so displayed that her sex was open and clearly visible to William where he stood chained to the wall.

                  “Regina, I want you on all fours. Place your head next to Veronica’s so you can whisper quietly in her ear. Now, bottom up and forehead down.” Reggie crawled over to her sister and lowered her head to rest on her arms, her legs spread and bottom still in the air. Turning her head, she was only inches from Ronnie.

                  “William needs a demonstration, girls. Regina, make Veronica come without touching her. You have ten minutes.” The Mistress leaned back comfortably on her chaise and watched as Reggie began whispering in Ronnie’s ear. At first, nothing happened, but soon Veronica’s breathing became faster and shallower. After a couple more minutes, she began whimpering deep in her throat, and tossing her head back and forth. Reggie continued whispering.

                  As William watched, Ronnie began to squirm, her wrists and ankles never changing position on the carpet. William was amazed to see a sheen of wetness appear on Ronnie’s sex, and the lips darken and swell, exposing the tip of her inner bud. Shortly, Ronnie’s breathing turned to gasps and moans as she thrashed more violently against the carpet. At last, gasping for breath, Veronica let out a loud cry as her body spasmed and jerked to her obvious orgasm. Ronnie’s position never changed as she slowly recuperated, regaining her breath.

                  “Thank you, girls,” the Mistress said. “Please go prepare a light meal for us all while I speak with William.” The girls both rose gracefully to their feet and headed into the kitchen, bantering as they went.

                  “You always fall for the gang rape scene, don’t you,” Reggie teased Ronnie.

                  “Maybe,” Ronnie retorted, “but at least I don’t get off being daddy’s bad little girl. What you won’t do for a spanking!”

                  “Well, William, what do you think now?”

                  William shook his head saying, “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t witnessed it myself. Are we all freaks? Is that what you collect?”

                  “No, William, none of you are freaks. You are all highly evolved sexual beings. If I ‘collect’ anything, I collect that. You see, I like the company of my peers,” she responded in a velvety voice. “I’m skilled at seeing the latent ability in some people, and am capable of training them to fulfill their potential.”

                  “How long have you been training the twins?”

                  “Off and on for about seven years,” she replied.

                  “And how old are they?” William asked.

                  “They are twenty-three years old, and yes, they did come to me when they were sixteen. Their background wasn’t very pleasant, and when I took them in they were about to be sold to a brothel.”

                  “So you made them into sex slaves. Is that supposed to be an improvement?”

                  Calmly, the Mistress looked steadily at William until he dropped his eyes.

                  “I’m sorry, Mistress. I didn’t mean to overstep my bounds.”

                  Raising her voice, the Mistress called, “Girls, where did you put the keys to William’s bonds?”

                  Ronnie came running in from the kitchen, skidded to a halt and dropped to her knees in one motion. “I’m sorry, Mistress. I forgot to put them back in the box.” She extended her hand with the two keys in it.

                  “Heavens, girl, I’m busy enough without you making me take time to punish you again. I have decided William and I will dine together on the terrace. You may both eat at the kitchen table.”

                  “Yes, Mistress,” Ronnie bowed her head, and then jumped up and hurried back to the kitchen.

                  The Mistress unlocked the ankle restraints and the padlock attaching William’s collar to the wall, then led him out onto the terrace. Bringing a cushion from another lounger, she placed him on his knees at her side, hands still cuffed behind him, as she reclined in the shade of the marble columns.

                  “You were asking me about the twins,” the Mistress began.

                  “I’m sorry, Mistress,” William interjected. “I don’t mean to judge you.”

                  “You can’t, William,” she smiled. “At least, you can’t reach an informed opinion without more data. Yes, it’s true that Ronnie and Reggie are pleasure slaves now. And, by the way, that is the correct term. For you, and for them. But that is not why I took them in. Where they grew up, prostitution is legal at a very young age, and their parents were too poor to support all their children. So, they decided to sell Ronnie and Reggie into what would have been lifelong slavery of a horrendous variety.

                  “Because they are twins, their parents could get a much better price for them than for any of their other children. The price was so high it would have allowed the entire family to survive and prosper. This was explained to them and Reggie and Ronnie agreed to the sale, knowing their family would no longer be in danger of starving.

                  “When I found them, the proprietor of the establishment was haggling over price with their parents. Although he had quoted a generous number, he was now offering much less for them, saying they were too old for many of his customers.

                  “When I matched the original offer to the parents, they were legally “sold” to me. I brought them to the States and became their court-appointed guardian until their majority. And, although they were aware of my world and had some exposure to it, they did not begin their training until they were of age, and had met some rather stringent criteria of mine. Does that make you feel any better about their lot in life?”

                  Flushing, William responded, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leap to conclusions. They are just so young I guess I felt like I was taking advantage of them, and was looking for a scapegoat.”

                  “In the mainstream world a lot of people would look askance at a thirty-six year old man having sex with a twenty-three year old, no doubt. However, in these circumstances, just how much free will do you think you have been exercising?”

                  “What?” William asked, startled.

                  “William,” Grace shook her head. “Do you really think I had any doubt about the outcome of today’s games? The equation reads as follows. Take a healthy, virile man with normal urges and place him in unfamiliar circumstances with one very over-stimulated libido. Take away his situational control, and add two randy, sexually knowledgeable minxes to the mix. Add water and stir.”

                  “You set us up!” William exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief.

                  “Of course I did. Giving you to the twins? I’d have to have taken leave of my senses not to know where that would lead.”

                  “Why did you do it?” William asked quietly, the vulnerability naked in his eyes. He had never before felt used by the Mistress, and he hoped he hadn’t been used now.

                  Just then Ronnie appeared, carrying a small table with a plate of bread, fruit, and cheeses, and two goblets of white wine. At the Mistress’ direction, she placed the table next to her, on the other side of the lounger from William. Bowing, she silently returned to the house.

                  Gently toying with his collar, Grace looked into his eyes. “William, I will not often explain my actions to you. This collar means I don’t have to. However, I will answer you this time, because I want you to know I am not abusing your trust.”

                  Silently William nodded, and Grace continued. “I had three reasons for setting you up. First, last night left you so keyed up that you needed the sexual release. Second, this weekend is designed to introduce you to the larger world of Dominance and submission, and I wanted the excuse to punish all of you as I teach you.”

                  “Before I give you my third reason, tell me, did you enjoy yourself?”

                  Reluctantly, William admitted, “Yes, I did. Very much.”

                  “That was my third reason, William. As we pursue your training, you will find much of it very difficult. I wanted you to know it can be pleasurable, as well.”

                  “Now that you have heard my explanations both of how the twins became pleasure slaves, and why I set you up, you are free to judge me. Have I wronged the twins? Have I abused your trust?” Grace asked, looking William squarely in the eye.

                  “No, Mistress. You have not abused my trust, and you saved the twins from a life of misery. I’ve also learned one other thing: I do not know enough of this world to form knowledgeable opinions, so I will try to be guided by you until I do.” William responded, bowing his head in unconscious submission.

                  “Good, William,” the Mistress smiled, ruffling his hair with her hand. “Now, how about some lunch?”

                  Grace proceeded to offer him tidbits from her plate, and William, his hands still locked behind him, had no choice but to accept them. He was amazed to find himself quite comfortable with the situation, even accepting sips of wine as she held the goblet for him. To his surprise, he discovered that this was an intimacy, not a humiliation.

                  The weekend proceeded, with William becoming more comfortable with his role, and more comfortable with the twins. He learned the proper way to refer to this world was BDSM, for ‘Bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, sadism and masochism’. He learned that one of the conditions the Mistress placed on the twins before she would accept them for training was that they complete college degrees. By the time, they were eighteen, Reggie had a bachelor’s degree in accounting, and Ronnie had completed a pre-med course at Georgetown University. Reggie was now employed as a CPA, while Ronnie was finishing up her residency at Georgetown University Hospital.

                  And he learned that trying to keep three sexually aggressive women satisfied was an exhausting proposition. Following their punishments Saturday evening, Mistress Grace decreed that William was to be available for any form of sexual congress the girls desired, at any time, excepting only the times that she, herself, desired his services.

                  Being the plaything of the imaginative twins was especially hard work. Between them, he was certain they hadn’t allowed him a total of three hours’ sleep since. By late Sunday afternoon, William had concluded that the Kama Sutra was merely a beginner’s primer, and didn’t come close to depicting what could be done with three bodies in the mix.

                  So it was with some relief that William responded to the latest call from the Mistress to find her dressed and carrying a flat, brown leather case. Handing it to William she said, “Here is your jewelry and other effects taken from you Friday night. I’ve had your tux cleaned and it’s down in the car. For now, gives these a try.”

                  She pointed to the bed where a white oxford shirt lay next to a pair of khaki pants. Belt, shorts, socks, and loafers lay nearby. “Please get dressed, William,” she said.

                  William walked over to the bed to carry out her instructions and discovered it was immeasurably more difficult to dress in front of her than it was to undress in her presence. Somehow, it seemed a much more intimate act, and William felt awkward and graceless as he carried out the simple tasks. Distracted by this discovery, he didn’t even think to ask how she knew what sizes he wore.

                  Leaving the collar of his shirt open, the slave collar was visible but appeared to be a unique piece of jewelry. William was surprised at how comfortable it had come to feel around his neck. He was even more surprised to discover that these sessions with the Mistress were no longer just hot sex, and great daydreams. He craved them. Needed them. It was as though he had found a larger world that he needed to be a part of.

                  When he was finished dressing, Grace led him back to the living room, where the twins were waiting, both dressed in jeans and T-shirts. They hugged him goodbye and told him they looked forward to seeing him again soon. William silently endured their embraces, feeling uncomfortable with them now they were all clothed.

                  He departed with the Mistress, riding the elevator in silence to the lobby, where she led him back down the service hall and out the back door. Her cruiser was waiting for them. “Turn around, William,” she ordered. He obeyed, automatically presenting his wrists to her behind his back. Smiling to herself, she applied the handcuffs she held ready and opened the door for him.

                  On the drive back out of the city, William remained silent, almost brooding. Mentally making the adjustment from the surreal world of the Mistress back to the mundane, everyday world was difficult for him.

                  As they finally neared his home, Grace looked at him in the mirror and said, “It gets easier. Part of what makes the transition so difficult for you right now, William, is that you no longer feel satisfied with your old world, and you haven’t yet made a place for yourself in the new world you’ve discovered. Give it time.”

                  William nodded, but didn’t answer, still lost in his own thoughts. Grace pulled the cruiser into his driveway, and parked. Turning around, she told William, “Please clear your schedule from Thursday afternoon through Monday. I’m taking you to a retreat for the long weekend. Plan on being picked up at four o’clock.” William again nodded his head, then asked, “What will I need to pack?”

                  The Mistress replied, “You’ll need your tuxedo. You will be my escort to a party on Saturday night. Wear casual clothes for traveling. Other than that, I doubt you’ll be wearing much of anything,” she grinned.

                  She stepped out of the car and opened the door for William. Leaving him to climb out on his own, she opened the trunk and pulled out a suit bag, closed the trunk, and laid the bag on top of it. Turning to William, she removed the handcuffs, then said, “All right, William, kneel for me.”

                  Facing her, he knelt and bowed his head. She worked the combination to his collar, then removed it. Tilting his face up to hers, she gave him a long, tender kiss, then said, “Thank you, William. I hope you enjoyed the weekend.”

Turning her back to him, she reached for the suit bag, handed it to him, and silently stepped back into her cruiser. William stood and watched as she backed out of the driveway, turned the corner, and disappeared.

                  William had enjoyed the weekend. Not to say he had enjoyed everything that had happened during the weekend, but he knew he wanted to pursue this journey of discovery. It was almost a compulsion. He was fascinated by the Mistress, her games, and most importantly with how he felt every time he accepted her collar. He felt owned, wanted, cherished. And he was not prepared to give that up.

The Lawyer

By C. A. Taylor

10        The Retreat

 

                  William arrived at the office almost an hour late on Monday. Greta, his secretary and Jeremy’s wife, looked up sharply as he came in, noting the shadows under his eyes. “Rough weekend?” she asked.

                  “Not enough sleep,” William replied truthfully. Pouring himself a cup of coffee he asked, “What’s on the schedule this week?”

                  “Just finishing up the Myerson paperwork. Oh, and you have a new client interview on Thursday.”

                  “See if you can move the interview to Wednesday. I’ll be out of the office Thursday afternoon and Friday.”

                  “Certainly,” Greta replied. “Would you like me to handle the credit report and background check? I’m sure I can get Stan on it.” If she wondered at his change in schedule, she was too professional to mention it.

                  “If you can get her to reschedule for Wednesday, plan to go ahead with the rest.” Together they worked through the mundane details lined up for the week, then William dived into the Byzantine processes that had governed legal proceedings for centuries.

                  By ten o’clock Thursday morning, he had his business affairs arranged so he could take some time off. In fact, he thought he might take the next week off as well, thinking that he might need time to recuperate from four days with the Mistress.

                  Satisfied, William headed to the gym for a workout, then grabbed a light lunch on his way home. By three-thirty he was showered, packed, and waiting for the Mistress’ arrival.

                  At precisely four o’clock William’s doorbell rang. Picking up his suit bag, he opened the front door. Standing in his doorway was a man. A very large man. Standing six feet five with shoulders so broad they filled the doorway, he was wearing a dark suit and a chauffeur’s cap. “You must be William,” he said with an easy smile. Holding out his hand, he added, “I’m Richard. Mistress Grace sent me.”

                  Automatically, William shook his hand while his brain tried to catch up to his reflexes.

                  Richard plucked the suit bag out of William’s hand, backed up and said, “I’m to drive you to the retreat. If you’re ready, we’d better go. The Mistress is expecting us.”

                  Bemused, William stepped outside, locked his door, and turned to see a black stretch limousine parked on the street. “Yours?” he asked.

                  “No. My Master’s,” Richard replied, leading the way and holding the back door open for William.

                  William paused, looked at Richard, and then said, “Any rule say I have to sit in back?”

                  “None at all,” Richard responded with a grin. “Actually, if you’re comfortable with it, sitting up front will be easier. The Mistress has asked me to sort of mentor you through the weekend. She said you might have some questions.”

                  Thinking that might just qualify as the understatement of the year, William nodded and headed for the front seat. Richard deposited the luggage in back, then settled himself in the driver’s seat and smoothly pulled away from the curb.

                  “What sort of questions did the Mistress have in mind?” William asked cautiously.

                  “Pretty much anything you wanted to ask about the BDSM scene,” Richard replied casually. “The Mistress said a couple of subjects were taboo, but I’m free to discuss most things.” Richard navigated the light suburban traffic, pointing the big automobile East as he headed for the beltway that surrounded Washington.

                  “What sort of things are taboo?” William wanted to know.

                  “Anything personal about Mistress Grace. I am also at liberty to choose what, if any, personal information I offer. Things like that. But don’t worry,” Richard grinned, “I’m not shy. I’ll answer most questions about myself.”

                  “Good,” William responded. “Because I really want to know about someone else’s experience with this scene. I’m still not sure what it is, or what I’ve gotten myself into. Would you tell me about your introduction to BDSM?”

                  “I could, but I don’t think it would help you much. You see, I’ve known about the BDSM community since I was a teenager. One of my first girlfriends was into bondage, and she took me to a couple of events. It took me a while to discover she had spoiled me for plain old vanilla sex, but once I figured that out, I knew where to go.

                  But, basically, it’s a community of people whose tastes in sex, and whose opinions about what sexual practices are acceptable, differ from the mainstream. It also appears to be a self-selecting community of open-minded, intelligent, civilized people, though, of course, there are exceptions.”

                  “All right, but that’s pretty general. Is there anything you can tell me about the Mistress that isn’t personal?” William tried. “Like, how long have you known her? Or how long has she been in the scene? Things like that.”

                  “By reputation, I’ve known of her since I joined. She’s been in the scene for more than ten years, and she is sort of a VIP in these circles. She set a record for sales price the first time she was on the auction block. Personally, I’ve known her for almost a year. You are very lucky to have her as a trainer. There is always a list of applicants for her, and she charges some of the highest fees in the business. In fact, since my owner had to be at a conference in Europe this weekend, she’s my sponsor for the sale.”

                  “The what?” William demanded.

                  “Didn’t you know? This is the largest event of the year for us. There are two sales held annually, six months apart. One in the U.S. and the other one in Europe. The Founders must have had an ironic sense of humor, scheduling a slave auction on Independence Day,” he grinned.

                  “I’m going on the auction block for the first time,” Richard continued, “and this will be your national debut. The Mistress must have great confidence in you to want to show you off here.”

                  “Show me off? What am I, a piece of meat?” William demanded in disbelief.

                  “Well, yeah. You’re a sex slave, aren’t you?” Richard responded in confusion.

                  Richard paused, tending to his driving for a while. Then, “If you don’t mind my asking, how did you wind up as her personal novice if you know so little about BDSM?”

                  “I guess you could say I was recruited,” William responded thoughtfully. “She approached me with a proposition I chose to accept.”

                  “Wow! That’s really rare. And I’ve never heard of her doing it.” He grinned. “What’s your secret?”

                  “Damned if I know,” William responded feelingly. “You feel like answering some more questions?” he asked, deliberately changing the subject.

                  “Sure.”

                  “You said that Mistress Grace set a record for sales price. Does that mean she used to be a pleasure slave?”

                  “Yes. One of the best.”

                  “But now she’s a Mistress. Do most slaves eventually become Masters or Mistresses?”

                  “No. Most slaves continue as slaves. That is what they want out of the scene. However, the best Masters and Mistresses almost always started out as slaves.”

                  “Something else. I don’t know the rules or etiquette for discussing BDSM with others. I’ve only met two other slaves besides you. Is it appropriate to use names or discuss other people I meet or interact with? What sort of information should be kept private, and what is considered okay for casual conversations?”

                  “The general rule is that the names given upon introduction are fine for open discussion. Many people use scene names if they don’t wish to be “out” about the lifestyle. Details of personal interactions should be kept personal, but, of course, there are gossips in any group. And members vary a great deal. Some people live for public play, while others only engage in private play. Also, if you receive an invitation to an event, you’d be wise not to bring a guest until you know more about the local scene.”

                  “No problem there,” William laughed. “I can’t imagine going to any event without the Mistress.” At that, Richard looked at him closely, but didn’t comment.

                  He continued, “One ironclad rule is that if you see someone you know from the mundane world, do not acknowledge them until you are introduced by your scene names, and do not refer to your mundane associations in the hearing of others. Likewise, if you are introduced to a scene partner at a mundane event, don’t indicate you have met previously at a BDSM event.

                  “In the D.C. area, many of our members are public figures or at least locally known in business or politics. The BDSM scene in general has a very good record for maintaining the privacy of our members. People who don’t are quickly ostracized.”

                  “I doubt that will be a problem for me. I can’t imagine I know anyone else in the scene. Six months ago, I didn’t even know it existed,” William replied.

                  “You might be surprised,” Richard said mildly, then concentrated on his driving, navigating the rush hour traffic of the Washington beltway, as they headed north into Maryland.

                  “So, you spoke of a community. Is it like a circle of friends who get together for barbeques on the weekend, or what?” William asked curiously.

                  “Yeah. We sometimes barbeque,” Richard grinned. “You have to realize most of us have lives. We go to work, spend time with our families, pursue our hobbies, etc. It’s just that one of our hobbies is BDSM. For most of us, it’s just that, a part-time hobby. Although some people live it as a full-time lifestyle, and BDSM in general is full of alternative lifestyles.

                  “Oh, that reminds me. Another piece of etiquette for the scene. It is considered bad taste to criticize alternative lifestyles. It is fine if you are not interested, but you should recognize that other people have the right to make their own choices. It is also good manners to politely turn down offers or propositions you are not interested in without taking offense because you were asked.”

                  “You mean I get to decide which offers to accept and which to decline?” William asked.

                  “That depends on whether you are wearing a slave collar or not. Since you are not wearing one right now, I could proposition you, and you have the right to accept or decline. Once you accept the collar, however, your Mistress makes those decisions for you.”

                  “Are you likely to proposition me?” William wondered.

                  Chuckling, Richard responded, “I’m not gay, if that’s what you’re asking. My orientation is firmly heterosexual. However, when you’ve been a slave for a while, the lines blur a little bit. You learn to appreciate sensuousness and sexuality in many forms. So, the answer to your question is no, I’m not likely to proposition you, but that doesn’t keep me from appreciating your good looks and overt sexuality.”

                  Quirking an eyebrow, William digested that for a moment. Then, “How long have you been a pleasure slave?”

                  “Almost three years,” Richard replied. “I’ve only been able to serve part-time, so my training has taken longer than usual. That’s why this is my first sale, and why Mistress Grace offered to sponsor me.” Richard was now driving smoothly through the Maryland countryside and turned onto Marriottsville Road. “We’re almost there,” he informed William.

                  “One last question, then,” William responded. “What do you do for a living?”

                  “I'm a private contractor,” Richard said. “I have a varied background in law enforcement, electronic surveillance, and security systems. I’m usually hired as a pilot, bodyguard, or chauffeur.”

                  Richard turned into a narrow lane that was barely visible from the road. Trees pressed close on both sides, creating a leafy tunnel overhead. After a quarter mile the trees gave way to lush, green pasture on both sides and the gravel road widened. The big vehicle continued through the rural setting, finally topping a rise that displayed their destination.

                  An enormous mansion stood at the top of the next hill. Surrounded by a brick fence at least twelve feet tall, it rose to four gabled stories, and covered the entire hilltop. William’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at the vastness of the structure. Turning to Richard, he asked, “Is this a private residence?”

                  “Partially,” Richard responded. “It is a residence, but the owner allows the facility to be used for many different purposes. Everything from boardroom retreats, to educational activities. It’s rather impressive, isn’t it?”

                  “It’s certainly a little overwhelming,” William agreed.

                  Richard drove through the open black iron gates and up the circular drive to the double doors marking the front entrance. As Richard pulled the limousine to a stop, the Mistress disengaged herself from a group of people standing in the entranceway to the mansion. She joined them just as William exited the limo, and Richard immediately bowed his head. “Good afternoon, Mistress,” he said.

                  “Hello, Richard. Thank you for driving today. I’m pleased you and William arrived safely and in good time.”

                  Turning to William, she said, “Hello, William. It’s good to see you again.” William nodded, as she took out his collar and offered it to him. “William, I offer you this collar as a symbol of my pledge. While you wear it, I demand your obedience and submission. In return, I will treat you as my valued possession to guard, care for, and use as I see fit.”

                  A little surprised at how abruptly the collar was offered, William responded, “I accept your collar as a symbol of my bond. While I wear it, I offer you the obedience of my will and the submission of my body. I acknowledge your right to use me as you see fit.”

                  “William, do you remember telling me that sometimes when you feel helpless you realize there is nothing you can do about it, so you just relax and go with the flow?” She asked as he accepted the collar and locked it around his neck.

                  “Yes,” William responded, nodding.

                  “Much of this weekend will be very difficult for you. When you encounter those difficulties, instead of resisting, try going with the flow. Remember you are helpless, and therefore not responsible for what is asked of you, or what is done to you.”

                  “That sounds ominous,” William commented, brow furrowing.

“It’s not meant to be ominous. It is, however, good advice,” she replied. “Now, William, please strip.”

He goggled at her. “Here?” he demanded.

“Yes, William. No slave enters this building clothed. Count your blessings it is not January.” To his left, he saw Richard nod knowingly. “Now, do as you are told.” There was a slight edge to her voice, and William realized she was among her peers in the BDSM community. Whatever his private feelings, he would not embarrass her before he even got inside the building. Silently, he unbuttoned and removed his shirt, handing it to Richard as he reached for it. Efficiently removing the remainder of his clothing, he turned to the Mistress, waiting for direction.

                  Richard bundled William’s clothes up and placed them in the limo. “Thank you, Richard,” Mistress Grace said. “Please take care of the car, and then report to my room.”

                  As Richard moved to follow his orders, Grace turned back to William. Removing a brown leather leash from her handbag, she snapped it into the ring on his collar. “Come, William,” she said. A flush of embarrassment crept up his neck and face, but he obediently followed her into the mansion, hands at his sides, head up, and eyes cast down. He could feel the adrenaline beginning to pump through his veins.

                  As they crossed the threshold, they were met by a short, round man with a jovial face, a large, black mustache, and a pink bald spot hidden under an ineffective comb over. He smiled and held out both hands. “Mistress Grace, it’s so wonderful to have you here again,” he greeted effusively.

                  “Hello, Ray,” the Mistress responded, hugging him. “It’s good to be back. Ray, this is William. William, this is Master Ray. He is the majordomo of this establishment, and as such, all slaves fall under his authority. Please remember that and treat him with the appropriate deference while you are here.”

                  Looking to his Mistress for guidance, he caught her discreet hand signal, and dropped to his knees, bowing his head and clasping his hands behind his back. “Very nice, William,” Ray commented, caressing the back of William’s neck. “I’m sure you’ll get along fine here during your stay.”

                  Rising at the gentle tug on his leash, William followed a step behind the Mistress as she made her way through the foyer, greeting several people in passing. William noticed other slaves on leashes, which made him feel marginally better. Turning left, she headed down a corridor and through an enormous library. Once past the double doors exiting the library, she turned right and headed up a straight wooden staircase. William followed silently as she wound through a maze of rooms and hallways, finally opening a door into a large sunny bedroom decorated in soft browns and yellows.

                  Mistress Grace closed the door, then turned and unhooked William’s leash. “With few exceptions, when you are with me this weekend you will be on a lead. It is part of the protocol of this establishment. It is often used as a training facility, so things tend to be a little more formal.” Pointing to a large lambskin rug near the center of the room, Grace ordered William to kneel. He took the same position used to greet Master Ray and waited. Mistress Grace left him there as she moved into an adjoining room.

                  Ten minutes later, there was a diffident knock on the door. When the Mistress opened it, there was Richard, naked, on his hands and knees, and carrying a leash between his teeth. “Come in, Richard,” she said, taking the leash from him. Richard’s muscles rippled as he crawled across the carpet. William, watching, was surprised that such a big man could manage to look graceful in such a position, but he did. Richard showed no sign of being embarrassed or uncomfortable with his role, and merely stopped and knelt next to William, as directed.

                  Next, Mistress Grace bent down and secured a pair of leather restraints to William’s wrists, fastening them behind his back. “Rise, William,” Grace instructed, then pointed him to a padded bench at the foot of the king-sized bed. “Be seated.”

                  As William followed her directions, the Mistress said, “Richard, please attend to William.” Richard crawled over to William and knelt in front of him. At the moment, William’s erection was conspicuous in its absence, and Richard placed a hand on either thigh, spreading William’s legs wide. He then dipped his head and touched William’s sac with the tip of his tongue. William jumped and let out a yelp of surprise.

                  “William,” the Mistress said warningly.

                  A red flush crept up William’s neck and cheeks, but he held still. Richard proceeded to lave the tender skin, gently sucking his balls. He moved his hands to William’s inner thighs, and began kneading them. Slowly, William relaxed into the sensations, his cock swelling in response. Richard then took him into his mouth, rolling his tongue around him. He gently sucked him, and William hardened in response, sucking in air at his reaction.

                  Richard automatically began pumping his head up and down, stimulating William further, until Mistress Grace called him off. “That’s enough, Richard. Thank you.”

                  “William, please change positions with Richard and return the service,” Mistress Grace instructed. “Richard, please let William know what you like.”

                  At a complete loss, William tried to process her request through the anger that suddenly welled up inside him. While the order appalled him, it didn’t upset him as much as the casual way in which it was delivered. It seemed the Mistress had no idea she was asking him to do anything difficult or out of the ordinary.

                  In an effort to buy some time to rein in his temper, he decided to address another issue. “Mistress?” asked William levelly.

                  “Yes, William?”

                  “Why am I required to wear restraints when Richard is not? Don’t you trust me?”

                  Richard gasped at William’s temerity, but William’s gaze never left his Mistress.

                  “No, William. It’s not that I don’t trust you. It is that Richard has much more training than you do, and he no longer needs the reminder.”

                  Seeing the confusion in his face, Grace turned to Richard. “See if you can explain it to him,” she said.

                  William turned to Richard expectantly. “William,” Richard began, “you know the oath you swore a few minutes ago when you accepted the collar?”

                  William nodded.

                  “For us, that means that we are denied the right to object to anything that is done to us until the collar is removed. We are literally helpless in the face of any order from any Master or Mistress. Do you understand that?”

                  “I didn’t realize I was required to take orders from anyone except Mistress Grace,” William replied, looking at her. “But, yes, I am aware that I don’t get to pick and choose which orders I will follow,” he continued.

                  “It takes a lot of self-control to not resist some orders,” Richard said. “And self-control is built like anything else, with practice. So novices are routinely restrained to remind them of their helplessness, and to prevent lapses which could hamper or halt the training of a slave.”

                  “I see,” William replied. Again addressing the Mistress, he said, “And have I exhibited any lapse in self-control lately?” he pursued.

                  “No, William, not recently. But your self-control has not been tested as severely as it will be this weekend. You will wear restraints whenever I think it is necessary. However, since you have made a point of it, I am willing to concede that restraints may not be entirely necessary in this situation.

                  “If you feel your self-control is equal to the task, I am willing to give you a chance to demonstrate that.” The Mistress nodded to Richard to remove the cuffs from William’s wrists, and then added, “And William? Do not challenge my authority again.”

                  Feeling petty and ashamed of himself, William realized he had struck at the Mistress to try to hurt her in return for the way she had ordered him to service Richard. He also realized, belatedly, that he had painted himself into a corner with respect to that order, and now he had no choice but to demonstrate his obedience and self-control by carrying it out. Accepting that, William clamped down ruthlessly on the gut-level homophobia that was trying to assert itself. He’d think about it later.

                  The Mistress watched closely as William’s predicament dawned on him. She couldn’t have arranged things better herself. His integrity and strength of character should now be enough to see him through this test. And, considering what was in store for him, the sooner William came to terms with the need to service men as well as women, the better.

                  Taking a deep breath, William moved to kneel in front of Richard. Sitting back on his haunches, William looked up at Richard and said, “So, what do you want me to do?”

                  “First, I want you to kneel properly, and cast your eyes down, slave. I did not give you permission to look at me,” Richard said severely.

                  Taken aback, William quickly adjusted his position, respectfully lowering his eyes.

                  “Oh, I forgot to tell you, William,” Mistress Grace interjected, “Richard is a very rare type of slave. He is a slave who has been trained as a Dom.” Seeing his lack of comprehension, Grace added, “That means he has been trained to be a Master.”

                  Shaken by this discovery, and apprehensive of what was to come, William remained still and silent.

                  “Look at me, William,” Richard said in a calmer tone. As William met his eyes, Richard asked, “Have you ever done this before?”

                  William shook his head and lowered his eyes, not wanting Richard to see his fear and revulsion.

                  Smiling, Richard said, “I know. It’s difficult to overcome the homophobia that has been ingrained in us all our lives. But, William, it isn’t about a blowjob. It’s about seeking to please your Master.”

                  William looked up, trying to understand.

                  “Look,” Richard said. “You’ve performed intimate acts to please your Mistress, right?”

                  Again, William nodded.

                  “And at times she required things from you that were difficult, didn’t she?” Richard continued.

                  “Yes,” William agreed.

                  “And you complied with her wishes.”

                  “Maybe not enthusiastically, but yes,” William admitted wryly.

                  “Well, this is the same thing. I require your compliance, not your enthusiastic enjoyment.”

                  “Yes, but—” William began.

                  “If your self-control isn’t up to the task, I can use the restraints,” Richard added quietly.

                  With that challenge, William sighed, squared his shoulders, and looked up. “What would you like me to do?” he asked.

                  Going into teaching mode, Richard explained that there were basically two different approaches. Either start by licking and sucking the testicles, or by licking the penis. “Never just begin by trying to take a penis into your mouth,” Richard cautioned. “It can be seen as an aggressive move, which may have very unpleasant consequences for a slave.”

                  Richard continued to walk William through the basics, and William did his best to comply. He found out quickly that this was a more difficult skill to perfect than he had ever realized, and vowed to be more appreciative when it was offered to him in the future.

                  William also discovered the trick was to think more about pleasing Richard and less about what it was he was doing. By the end of the teaching session, the dull flush of humiliation had mostly given way to the acceptance that he was merely doing what was required of him.

                  When Richard pronounced himself satisfied with William’s first efforts, Grace recalled their attention. “Thank you, Richard. Since you will be serving tonight, please report to Master Ray.”

                  “Yes, Mistress,” Richard acknowledged, bowing his head. He then returned to all fours and quietly left the room.

                  “William, you will not be needed for the next hour or so. Please refresh yourself and then take a nap. You will be called when I require you.” With that, the Mistress left the room, closing the door to the adjoining area behind her.

                  William headed for the bathroom and followed orders. Then he lay down on the bed, pulled a lightweight throw at the bottom of the bed over him, and tried to relax. He had had the collar on for less than two hours, and was already troubled by the demands and changes in demeanor from the Mistress. With so much new and unexplained, he found he had been depending on her to guide him, and the absence of her attention, guidance, and understanding left him vulnerable in a whole new way. He did not like being dependent, and he liked not knowing the rules governing this weekend even less.

                  He was surprised, therefore, to wake to a gentle hand on his shoulder. He did not remember drifting off, and he was certain he had never seen the woman attached to the hand on his shoulder. He would have remembered her. ‘Buxom blonde’ came to his sleep-fogged mind, but that was just the half of it. Naked, she stood almost as tall as he did, with white blonde hair cascading over her shoulders like silk. Her ample breasts swayed back and forth as she leaned over him, and her lusciously curved hips and long legs were an invitation to every red-blooded male in the area.

                  “Hi, William,” she said in a velvet voice. “I’m Selena.”

                  William’s reaction was immediate, physical, and very visible under the light throw. She smiled as she saw his response, and he reddened like a schoolboy.

                  “It’s nice to know my job will be so easy,” she remarked cryptically.

                  “What?” William asked.

                  “Never mind. Mistress Grace asked me to get you.” Taking his hand in hers, she threw off his covering and urged him to his feet. “Quickly now, go wash your face and comb your hair. We don’t want to be late. And William,” she added, “empty your bladder. It’s going to be a while before you get another chance.”

                  Welcoming the excuse to escape, William headed for the bathroom. He made quick work of the required chores, then took a steadying breath, trying to orient himself. He walked out of the bathroom with several questions on his tongue.

                  Selena apparently saw that, for she said, “No time for questions. Come on.” Then, grabbing his hand, she led him through the door the Mistress had used earlier. It led to a room obviously used as both an office and a sitting room. Comfortable sofas and chairs were scattered around the large room, but Mistress Grace was seated at a large mahogany desk, working at a computer.

                  Both slaves immediately dropped to their knees as she looked up. “Ah, Selena. Welcome. And thank you for fetching William.”

                  Turning to William, she asked, “Did you have a nice rest?”

                  “Yes, Mistress,” William responded politely.

                  “Good. I’m sure you must also have several questions,” she smiled. “You always do.”

                  Reddening slightly, William responded, “Yes, Mistress.”

                  “We really are going to have to work on that,” she commented. “But not right now. You are always more comfortable if you know what is going to happen, so here is the program. There is a welcome banquet being held for guests tonight, and you and a few other novices will be introduced.

                  “You will again be placed on display, and Selena has been assigned to look after you. This is an opportunity for you to display your self-control, William, as you will not be gagged, but you must not speak to anyone except me, Selena or Master Ray. Understood?”

                  William nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”

                  “Well, that’s all for now. Selena will take you down to the banquet hall, and Master Ray will see you are properly displayed.”

                  William was shocked as the Mistress turned her back on them and picked up the phone, dismissing them without another word. He was surprised how much her actions hurt.

                  “Will I see you when I am introduced?” he couldn’t help asking.

                  “Yes, William, I’ll be there. Now, go with Selena.”

                  Once again Selena took his hand, and climbing to their feet, they left the room together.

                  Back in the bedroom, Selena asked William to kneel. She picked up his leash from the bedside table and attached it to his collar. When he made to stand, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Since you are not in the company of your Mistress, you are not allowed to walk,” she informed him.

                  “But you’re a slave,” William retorted. “Why are you allowed to walk around without a leash if I can’t?”

                  “Because I belong to the Establishment,” Selena told him. Seeing his lack of comprehension, she added, “I work here.”

                  Reluctantly, William remained on his hands and knees and allowed Selena to lead him from the room. He knew he shouldn’t be surly with her. She was not the one he was upset with.

                  By the time they made their way downstairs, an experience William was not anxious to repeat on hands and knees, William had regained his equilibrium. His job was to do the best he could to carry out the orders he was given. At some point he was sure he would be able to speak to the Mistress and find out what he had done to anger her, and then try to set it right. He was dismayed, however, to find a knot in the pit of his stomach that just wouldn’t go away.

 

The Lawyer

By C. A. Taylor

11        The Banquet

 

                  Selena led him into a large ballroom that was in the final stages of being turned into a banquet hall. Tables were scattered throughout the large space and the large pillars supporting the vaulted ceiling were decked with plants and water features. Evenly spaced around the area were five small daises, each surrounding a column. Slaves were busy setting up various equipment at four of them.

                  Large plasma screens were strategically placed around the room and a sound check was going on somewhere nearby. At the back of the room was an elevated stage with the head table already in place.

                  As Selena led William across the room, Master Ray approached. “Ah, Selena, here you are. And William. Good.”

                  Looking over his shoulder he spotted a waiter carrying a tray of water glasses. “Rory please set the tray down and come assist us.”

                  Rory immediately did so, and Ray led his small entourage to the empty dais directly across the room from the head table. The plain black platform snuggled close to the pillar, surrounding it. Potted plants around the perimeter softened the lines, but the pillar itself was starkly lit and without decoration. To one side were a small, square cushion, two sets of black leather restraints, and two black leather straps.

                  “Ah, here we are, William,” Master Ray said briskly, raising a hand toward the dais. “This will be your station for the evening. Please take your position with your back to the pillar.” William moved into place, an inkling of what was going on finally dawning.

                  “Selena, the cuffs, please,” the Master continued without a break. Selena picked up the leather cuffs and approached William, who extended his forearms without being told. She buckled the cuffs on his wrists, then knelt down to attach the ankle cuffs.

                  Once they were in place, Master Ray took over again. “Rory, be a good lad and run a strap over that hook at the back of the column, and attach William’s cuffs.” Rory went around the back of the pillar, and William raised his arms over his head, waiting.

                  In moments he felt Rory running the strap through the ring of first one cuff then the other. As the strap was tightened, William’s shoulders were once again drawn hard against a column, arms taut and pulled around the sides. The same process took place with his ankle restraints and William was again positioned as he had been for the Mistress’ photo session.

                  The Master looked him over, and, satisfied with his position, told William, “You will be displayed here throughout the banquet. You are not to speak to anyone except Mistress Grace, Selena, or myself, and then only when necessary. You should not be touched, but make sure you don’t react to any comments made to or about you.

                  “Selena will see to your needs and make sure your presentation is acceptable throughout the evening. Please notify her of any problems or discomfort you may experience.”

                  With that Master Ray bustled off, taking Rory with him.

                  Looking down at Selena, William asked, “What now?”

                  “Now we wait,” Selena answered. She placed the cushion at the front of the dais and to one side and then knelt, facing William, where she could keep an eye on him but not obstruct the guests’ view of him.

                  Huffing out a breath, William said brusquely, “You are a fount of information, aren’t you?”

                  “All right, William,” Selena replied tartly. “You want the gory details? Fine. You are going to be tied to this post for the next three or four hours. The spotlight is going to get hot, you will probably get a headache from the glare, and you will only get a ten-minute break from your position each hour. Your muscles will get stiff and ache, and you will lose all feeling in your hands and arms. And, oh, yeah, I almost forgot the best part. You will be kept hot and hard the whole time. That’s my job. The more I can make you squirm, the better I’m doing. Is there anything else you want to know?”

                  There was a pause, then, “I’m sorry, Selena,” William said quietly, looking her in the eyes. “I’m a little rattled and upset by all this. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I know you are just doing what you are told to do.”

                  Mollified, Selena gave him an impish grin. “Well, maybe, but I never said it was hardship duty.”

                  Coloring, William bantered, “Oh, geez, somehow I think making me squirm is not going to be a problem for you.”

                  Grinning wickedly, Selena stood and said, “Well, maybe we’d better find out. I’d hate to fail in my duties.” Her pale grey eyes gleaming, Selena walked up to William and pressed her naked body to his. Reaching a hand around his neck to hold him still, she captured his lips with hers. Then she kissed him blind.

                  When she finally released him, William was gasping for air and seeing stars. “Good grief, woman, don’t you ever need to breathe?” he panted.

                  “Mermaid,” she answered briefly. Then, laughing at his thunderstruck expression, she explained, “I worked as a mermaid at an amusement park when I was in college. Applicants had to be able to hold their breath for three minutes to qualify for the job. Anyway, I’ve always been told I have great,” she paused, “lungs.”

                  William groaned at the double entendre.

                  “Now,” she said sternly, “enough playing around. I love having a gorgeous man at my mercy, so let’s see what I can do to get you seriously hot and bothered.”

                  William’s groin pulsed and ached in answer to her threat.

                  And it was a threat. Selena began by stroking her hands up and down his body. From the sensitive exposed skin of his arms all the way down to his thighs. He couldn’t believe how vulnerable it made him feel. As she bent her head to nip his ear, he arched his head away from her, and she trailed her tongue down his throat. William swallowed a groan deep in his throat.

                  Leaning back, she cupped her large breasts in her hands. William’s breath exploded from his body as she rubbed her hard nipples back and forth against his own. His cock, already erect, swelled tightly in response and he clenched his fists.

                  When she slid one smooth leg up his thigh and pressed her moist heat to him, he closed his eyes in surrender and moaned. She pressed her body close as she rode his thigh, her soft breasts pillowed against his hard chest.

                  “Please, Selena,” he begged. “Have mercy.”

                  “No-o-o, I don’t think so,” she drawled thoughtfully. “You’ve never really been pushed to your limits, have you?” Whispering in his ear, she said, “The guests are starting to arrive. It’s almost show time for you, and I intend to make you squirm and writhe before I leave you displayed for them.

                  You will control yourself, William,” she said in warning. “I swear, if you embarrass yourself, and me, I’ll ask Master Ray to punish you personally. He has an extensive collection of canes I’m sure he’d be happy to show you,” she added.

                  So saying, she knelt down in front of him and cupped her breasts around his cock. Looking down, William’s circuits promptly blew. He had never seen anything so erotic in his life as when she straightened her legs and drew her breasts up until the head of his cock disappeared in her cleavage. She slowly lowered her hips to rest on her heels, exposing him, and then repeated the move.

                  Slowly, erotically, she slid up and down his engorged shaft, engulfing him again and again. Unconsciously, William tilted his hips to extend the contact, luxuriating in her warmth and softness. When she dipped her head and kissed him, he thought he would explode.

                  Panting and sweating, he closed his eyes. It took all his concentration to hold back. His balls were tight to the point of pain, and small tremors shook in his arms and legs as he tensed, willing himself not to come.

                  Looking up, Selena saw how close he was to the edge. Jaw and fists clenched, he dragged air into his chest like a man drowning. Cupping his balls, she could feel there was no slack in them at all. Smiling her satisfaction, she pulled back from him. Rising, her hand grazed his hip. He jerked as though she had burned him.

                  Stepping back, she resumed her position on the cushion. When William finally dared to open his eyes, he let out a breath of relief that she had ceased his torture—at least for now.

                  William took several deep, slow breaths as he tried to control himself. Seeking distraction, he looked around the hall and saw that four other pillars were also adorned with slaves in the same position. Three of the pillars had single occupants, all women. The fourth had a pair of slaves attached. They stood back to back, attached to the same pillar, with arms and legs intertwined. They were beautifully matched. She was tall, slender, and willowy, while he was half a head taller than her, with gleaming skin, and a strongly muscled physique. His coffee skin was two shades darker than hers, which was the rich color of maple syrup.

                  The pillar to his immediate right had a tiny redhead attached, with elfin features, and a wide mouth. William was surprised to see Richard attending her, apparently performing the same function for her that Selena performed for him. The contrast of Richard’s milk chocolate skin against the fair skin of the redhead was slightly shocking, and very erotic. William couldn’t help wondering if the earlier combination of his own pale skin against Richard’s much darker skin had been as striking.

                  Before he had a chance to examine the other pillars more closely, his attention was drawn to the central dais, where he saw Mistress Grace greet Master Ray and another man before taking her seat. Her glance slid over William, then turned back to Master Ray, continuing their conversation.

                  The evening was an endurance trial, both in the form of muscle fatigue, and boredom. That is, until William happened to glance at one of the large plasma screens arrayed around the room.

                  William felt the heat climbing to his cheeks as he saw photo after photo of himself displayed in a choreographed slide show appearing on all the monitors. So this was what Mistress Grace had done with the photos she had taken of him. There were easily thirty shots of him displayed one after another. William’s embarrassment was profound. At least until he saw that the next set of photos were of the elfin redhead. Somehow, having company made the embarrassment less acute.

                  As William watched, he realized that photomontages of each slave had been compiled and were cycling through their programming, accompanying the string quartet that provided background music for the diners. The novelty wore off with repetition, and after a while William ignored the slide show completely.

                  True to her word, Selena loosened his restraints for ten minutes every hour, allowing him to stretch slightly and ease his tired muscles. Then he was returned to his position, the restraints were tightened, and Selena again worked to make sure William was as aroused and hard as possible. Unfortunately for William, she was very talented at that job.

                  William reflected that his balls ached so much from her attentions that the muscle aches were very minor indeed, by comparison. He was also thankful that aside from some general milling around at the beginning, everyone was seated and enjoying the banquet, relegating him to some sort of hall decoration, rather than as a spectacle for an audience to stare at or make comments about.

                  Somehow William missed whatever passed for introductions of the novice slaves at the dais. He was far too wrapped up in his own discomforts to care, and far too worried about Mistress Grace’s earlier response to him. During one break, he asked Selena about it.

                  “Did Mistress Grace seem preoccupied when we were in her office earlier?” he asked.

                  “Not that I noticed,” Selena replied. “I don’t interact with her all that regularly, but she is usually very busy whenever she is here.”

                  “Does she visit here often?” William asked curiously.

                  Selena burst out laughing. “Visit? This is her home, William.”

                  “What?” William gaped.

                  “Keep your voice down,” Selena cautioned. “You really don’t know much about your Mistress, do you?” she asked.

                  “I guess not,” William responded slowly. “She never talks about herself, and she doesn’t encourage questions,” he added. William lapsed into silence, thinking about the new information he had just received. He remained preoccupied throughout the remainder of the evening, until Mistress Grace came over to his small stage.

                  “Ah, Selena. Thank you for taking care of William. He looked wonderful.”

                  “How are you feeling?” she asked, turning to William.

                  He hesitated, eyes on the ground.

                  Grace noticed, and stepped up onto the platform. Placing her hand under his chin, she said quietly, “Look at me, William. Tell me how you feel.”

                  Reluctantly, he looked up, pain and misery clearly visible in his expressive eyes. Summoning a lopsided grin, he said wryly, “I feel tired and horny.”

                  Knowing there was more to it than that, Grace replied, “I’m sure you do. There has been a lot to take in today, and you’ve been on display for almost four hours.” Gently running her hand over his erection, she saw William flinch at the additional stimulation.

                  “Selena, it looks like you may have been overly efficient at keeping William’s attention. Please give the boy a blowjob before I release him so he isn’t walking bowlegged for the rest of the evening.” She smiled at Selena to take the sting out of the words, and stepped back to give her room to work.

                  Selena knelt before William and looked up at him with a glint in her eye. William wondered briefly if she hadn’t known this would be the outcome of her zealous attention to duty, but he lost that train of thought as she reached up with her tongue to lave his engorged shaft. Sighing, he closed his eyes as her mouth settled over the head of his cock and began to work the magic leading to his release.

 

The Lawyer

By C. A. Taylor

12        Intermission

 

                  Grace led William directly back to her room, dismissing both Selena and Richard, and asking them to report to her in the morning for breakfast. She then sent William into the bathroom, ordering him to take a quick shower.

                  When he came out, he found the Mistress propped up on two large pillows in the middle of the bed wearing a cream silk robe. “Come here, William,” she ordered, patting the bed next to her. Not certain he understood her correctly, William slowly approached the bed. In response to her coaxing, he climbed up next to her and lay down on his side, facing her.

                  “The emotional vulnerability is really much harder for you, isn’t it, William,” the Mistress began.

                  “I'm sorry, Mistress, I don’t understand,” William replied, looking puzzled.

                  “Tonight for the first time you were displayed bound and naked in front of a whole roomful of strangers who could see you, and whom you could see. And yet, you were far more worried about my apparent abandonment of you than you were worried about being seen or recognized. Isn’t that true?”

                  Uncomfortable, William remained silent, eyes downcast.

                  “William, look at me,” Grace said sharply.

                  Surprised at her tone, William immediately looked up.

                  “Just because I don’t have you cuffed or restrained in some way does not mean you have the right to disobey me,” she lectured severely. “Now, answer my question.”

                  “Yes, Mistress,” William replied in a low voice.

                  Grace was silent for several moments, obviously thinking hard. Reaching her decision she rose and went to the closet, removing several items. She tossed William a pair of black silk drawstring pajama bottoms and a short matching robe.

                  “Put these on, William and go into the sitting room. Sit down on the sofa and wait for me.” Baffled, but accustomed to obedience, William did as he was told.

                  Once he left the room, the Mistress removed her robe and donned the matching cream silk pajama set, replacing the robe over top. She picked up a few items she thought she might need, stuffed them into the robe pocket, and joined William.

                  Taking a seat in a chair directly opposite William, she began, “William, I will not remove your collar until the weekend is over, but I think we need to relax the rules for a bit. We are going to talk, and you will fully answer any question I put to you. You will not move from the sofa for any reason without my express permission. However, beyond that, you may call me Grace, and you may bring up any subject or ask any question you want. If you are not feeling respectful, then you needn’t speak respectfully. You will not be punished for anything that happens here, as long as you stay within the first two guidelines. I’m not going to ask if you understand, because we are just going to have to hammer this out as we go along,” Grace said with the trace of a smile.

                  “May I ask a question, Mistress?” William asked.

                  “Go ahead, William,” Grace said, grinning and shaking her head.

                  “Why the clothing? For me, I mean. Why did you tell me to get dressed?”

                  “Because we are temporarily suspending the rules of slave and Mistress. I thought it would be easier for you to meet me on equal ground if you were clothed. Oh, I could have easily gotten undressed, but I find your naked body a distraction to serious conversation. Does that answer your question?”

                  William nodded, but he felt his cock stir at her words.

                  “Now, to begin, I want you to tell me what you are feeling about this weekend so far. Start with meeting Richard at your door this afternoon, and narrate the rest of the day to me.”

                  It took William a moment to wrap his head around her directions, then, looking at his hands, he said, “Well, as I’m sure you know, I was expecting to see you this afternoon, not Richard. Having a very large black man greet me when I was expecting a rather small blonde woman was a bit of a shock. I was disappointed you weren’t there, and I was annoyed and upset that you hadn’t told me what to expect.” William looked up at Grace for her reaction.

                  She was watching his face intently, and nodded for him to continue.

                  “I have nothing against Richard, don’t get me wrong. We had a pleasant drive out here, and he was very helpful, answering some basic questions for me.

                  “Then I got here, and you all but threw my collar at me and told me to strip. That may not be exactly accurate, but it sure reflects how it felt. You had never made me feel like an impersonal tool before, and I didn’t like it. It was as though you didn’t even see me as a person. But, I realized from something Richard had said that you were among your peers here, so I didn’t want to make a bad impression. I went along with your directions, and your brought me up to this suite.”

                  William took a deep breath and stopped.

“What is it William?” Grace asked.

                  “I'm not sure I can do this. I want to cooperate. To answer your questions. But everything in my head keeps sounding like a whiny little kid. It’s not the details of what you did or what I did that matter. The problem is that everything that was the norm for this relationship—if those words even apply—seems to have gone out the window as of four o’clock today.

                  “I don’t know what you want or expect from me here. I don’t know if I am capable of giving it, or if I even want to give it. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

                  “Thank you, William. That last bit sums it up nicely. To borrow the whiny little boy metaphor, I’ve changed the rules and now you are not sure you want to play.”

                  William grimaced at her last comment, but didn’t argue it. “So now what?” he asked. “Do you just tell the whiny little boy to get over it and expect things to go as you wish?” he asked defensively.

                  Grace chuckled. “No, William. Of course not. Now we can start the conversation I tried to have earlier in the bedroom. You found the emotional vulnerability I created for you today so much more difficult than the physical vulnerability that you didn’t even react to your public display. Good grief, William. Selena gave you a blowjob in front of God and everybody, and you didn’t even blush.”

                  Heat suffused William’s cheeks as he realized she was right. He was mortified in retrospect, but had merely accepted the physical release at the time.

                  Grace laughed at his belated reaction.

                  Slowly, William grinned, then chuckled at himself, shaking his head. “I guess I should apologize to Selena for not appreciating her efforts at the time.”

The anger and tension slowly seeped away. Taking a couple of slow breaths, William turned to her.

                  “So, Mistress Grace,” he said lightly. “May I presume you had some purpose in setting me up this way? I should be getting used to it by now, but you always seem to catch me flatfooted.”

                  “A good trainer works to catch her slave flatfooted, William. It speeds the training process enormously. But, yes, of course I had a purpose in setting you up. Two, in fact. First, it did make your first open public appearance a lot easier for you to bear, didn’t it?”

                  William nodded, sobering slightly.

                  “The second reason was a test, William. You have done remarkably well in most of the tests I’ve given you. So well, in fact, that you generally didn’t know there was a test at all. But none of us is perfect, and I’m afraid you didn’t pass this one with flying colors.”

                  William cocked his head at her. “What was the test?” he asked.

                  “Trust, William,” the Mistress answered. “The test was whether you trusted me enough to follow my orders even when you didn’t understand them, and when you weren’t receiving any rewards or positive feedback for doing so.

“You are still filtering all my orders through your decision-making processes, and then deciding whether you will obey or not based on whether the order seems good to you or not. Obedience is doing what you are told, immediately, and doing it because you were told to do it, not for any other reason. This is a difficult habit to break for anyone, and your profession makes it more difficult for you than most.”

“So, what do we do about that?” William asked carefully.

“We work on it, William,” Grace said. “We work on it.”

“Along those lines,” William began. “You did say I could bring up any subject I wanted to talk about.”

“I did,” Grace replied, looking at him steadily.

“Well, maybe it would help build trust between us if you would tell me a little bit about yourself. I know your name is Grace and that you are not a cop. Tonight I discovered this mansion is your home. After all these months, that is all I know about you. It’s hard to trust an enigma, Grace.”

Grace paused, choosing her words carefully. “All right, William. You have a point. I have my reasons for limiting your knowledge of me right now, but I can see that a total lack of information could create a stumbling block. Especially for someone with your curiosity.” She smiled.

“So, as your trainer, how about a professional biography to start. I was literally brought up in the BDSM community. My parents were well-respected professionals who helped remove some of the stigma attached to alternate lifestyles in the 1960’s and 1970’s. My mother was a biochemist and my father was a psychologist.

“Anyway, I grew up in the scene, and was trained as a pleasure slave when I was a teenager. I went on the auction block four times, starting when I was eighteen. My contracts included provisions for my schooling, so I received a degree in behavioral psychology by the time I finished my last contract. I currently hold master’s degrees in behavioral psychology and business administration. And I’ve spent most of the last ten years as a professional slave trainer and dominatrix, among other things.”

Grace broke off and looked directly at William. “William, I must ask you for a promise outside the time you wear my collar. Even after I remove your collar, please do not try to find out more about me. I promise you that when your training is complete I will answer as many questions as you wish, as completely as possible. But right now, please respect my privacy and don’t go looking. May I have your word, William?”

William nodded slowly. “You have it,” he said. “Just know that one of the first questions I will ask is your reasons for the secrecy.”

Grace smiled at that. “Oh, don’t worry. Those reasons will be spelled out very clearly for you at the proper time.”

“Well, I guess that will have to do,” William said. “And, now, at the risk of pushing my luck, I’d like to make one more request before we resume our proper roles.”

William quirked an eyebrow at Grace. “Trust is about more than words, Grace. Can we spend the rest of this night together as equals? I promise to resume my proper role first thing in the morning, but it would go a long way towards fostering trust if I could spend the night as a man making love to a woman I care for, rather than as a sex slave servicing his Mistress.”

Grace hesitated. “Jumping in and out of roles is difficult, William. I was reluctant to create this space, but felt you needed it. To further complicate the situation by confusing my role as your Mistress with the role of, what? Your girlfriend? A one-night stand? I’m afraid that will just make things more difficult for you.”

“Grace, I’m not some love struck boy. I’m capable of distinguishing between roles. And, I hate to admit it, but you really shook me today. I need to get back some sort of connection with you. I can’t offer my obedience and submission to the cold, uncaring Mistress you were today. Maybe that’s the ideal goal, but I’m not there, yet. I need to know that you have a personal interest in me. That my efforts, achievements, and even my failures, matter to you.”

Silently, Grace leaned forward and cupped his face in her hand, guiding his lips to hers. The kiss she gave him was long, slow, and sweetly gentle. “I do have a personal interest in you, William. That’s why I recruited you in the first place. And I care very much about your achievements as you strive to reach the goals I set for you. Is that enough to be going on with, for now?” she asked.

Intentionally breaking the rule, William stood and offered his hand to Grace. “Why don’t we go to bed, now?” he suggested.