The Ad

THE AD

By Dino Dave

Standard Disclaimer:

This story is an original work of fiction.  It in no way resembles any
persons living or deceased.  It is purely a work of fantasy and is
intended for the use of adults only.  If you are under the age of 18,
or are prohibited by law to have access to such materials, please stop
reading now.

Feel free to distribute this work freely, provided it remains
unchanged, with credit given to the author.  Please download and enjoy
it!  All I ask is that you e-mail me with comments or questions.  You
can reach me at: dino@canoemail.com

The Ad  Chapter 1			     (C) Dino Feb. 2000

Lightly proofed and edited by the reclusive Mike Ink.

Playful WF, 23 Y/O, seeking gentle but firm male to dominate me.  I'm
5'8, 115 lb.  Nice figure and long brown hair.  Box 5559

I read the ad once more.  Well, what the hell.  I picked up the phone
and dialled the number.  After listening to the instructions, I started
to work my way through the menus.  Then I keyed in the girl's box
number, and upon hearing her ad, I was intrigued by her soft, slightly
husky voice.  I was told to leave my message and heard the beep.
Trying hard to keep the nervousness out of my voice, I said that I
noticed her ad and that I would like to know more about her.  I told
her my name was Jim, left my e-mail address, said bye for now, and hung
up.  Probably just a waste of three minutes at a dollar ninety-five, I
thought, and got ready to go to work.

Things started off hectic that week.  Three days later when I checked
my mail, I couldn't think who 'little1@mailnet.com' could be.  When I
opened the file, I remembered my impulsive phone call and saw that it
may have paid off after all.  'Little1' turned out to be Samantha, and
she gave me a few more details about herself than were in her ad.
Thirty-four, twenty-two, thirty-five was a nice place to start.  She
told me she was into bondage, which was good.  Almost as a warning, she
stated that she had couple of piercings, but that was fine with me too.
Samantha said she hadn't been able to find someone who could take her
to that special place she'd heard about, and was hoping that her ad in
the paper might land her a ticket there.

I wrote her that I enjoyed visiting exotic places, but had not yet
found a compatible travel companion.  I described myself; 6'1, 185.
Casual, outdoorsy, and easy going, mostly.  Thirty-five years old.  I
didn't want to come on too strong, but I said that I thought I might
know what she wanted.  I said I would like to see her, and told her to
pick a mall or coffee shop someplace in town; that I'd meet with her
this Saturday sometime.  Her first letter was posted on Tuesday, this
was Wednesday.  I didn't want to give this girl too much time to think
about it.

At lunchtime Thursday, I checked my mail and smiled to myself.  Little1
had taken the hook.  She mentioned a shopping mall at the north end of
town that I knew had a cosy food court, nice and public.  Smart girl.
She said any time Saturday would be good, so I said I'd be there at two
in the afternoon.  I told her I'd meet her in the food court and to tie
her hair in a loose ponytail with a red ribbon, so I would know who she
was.

Even though I kept trying to convince myself this may not lead to
anything much, I nevertheless tossed and turned that night, excited at
meeting with Samantha.  Fortunately, I slept in late Saturday; woke
fresh, and rested.  I did some work on the computer, then after lunch,
I showered and got ready for my 'date'.

I arrived at the mall at about quarter to two.  I wandered around the
big mall for a while, checking out the sights, then went to the food
court and bought a coffee.  I was just about to find a seat when I
spotted long brown hair, really long.  Past the bum long.  Normally
that alone would make my heart flutter, but this hair was tied back in
a loose ponytail with a piece of red ribbon.

I moved through the crowd and sidled up to the girl with the long hair.

"Can I buy you a coffee, Samantha?" I asked.

Samantha turned to face me and I felt the old ticker trip.  She had a
silver ring in her right nostril.  I smiled.  Her face was gorgeous;
thin eyebrows, bright blue eyes, all framed nicely by her thick hair.

"Jim?" she asked.

I took a sip of my coffee to try to hide my excitement.

"You're a very pretty girl," I said.  "Jim Bradson.  Can I get you
something?"

She said coffee would be fine so I got one for her and topped up mine.
The girl looked stunning, and I noticed several guys followed her with
their eyes as we walked across the area.  We snagged a table off to the
side, a little away from the bustle of the crowds, and sat down.
Samantha was a real beauty and I told her so again.  She was wearing a
loose cotton dress, bare legs, and sandals with thin straps that showed
off her lovely feet.  A small silver ring adorned one toe.

We talked a bit about work and stuff, she saying she worked as a teller
in a bank and had taken graphic arts in collage.  She was looking for
something, maybe part time, which she could apply her artistic talents
to.  I told her I worked as a network consultant and that I also
managed a database at one of the hospitals in the city.

I noticed that the girl seemed to have a hard time looking straight
into my eyes.  She would glance up from time to time but mostly kept
her eyes lowered to a spot on my chest, or on my coffee cup.  Once, I
made a quip that brought a giggle.  She put her hand to her face,
touched her nose ring, then quickly settled again.

"I like your ring," I said.

She blushed a little, then smiled and looked up at me.  I saw her eyes
dance mischievously and I knew what she wanted to tell me.

I prompted her.  "Your letter said something about a couple of
piercings."

Her eyes flickered downward.

"Down there?" I asked.

"Two," she answered a little shyly.  "In the lips."

"Mmmm," I purred.  I felt my cock twitch at the thoughts of her labia
rings squished between her softness and the hard chair seat.  It jumped
again as the scene in my mind shifted to my nose pushing in between
them.

"Some men I've dated got turned off when I told them about my rings,"
she stated.  "You don't mind?"

"Oh no," I said with a big smile, "I don't mind at all."

I began my pitch.  "Samantha, I have a fairly good idea of what you're
looking for.  I want to you know that you don't have to worry with me;
I will take things as slowly or as fast as you want.  Trust in these
kinds of situations doesn't come easy, and I understand how hard it can
be for you, but I hope to show you that you have nothing to fear, if
you want to take things further.  Just seeing you has been a treat for
me.  If you'd like, we could go have some dinner and talk some more.
Then after, maybe go back to my place?"

Samantha didn't even hesitate.  "O.K," she said.

I wasn't sure if that was OK to just dinner, or both.  I was encouraged
however.  Sam, she asked me to call her Sam, said she didn't have a car
and had taken the bus here.  We left the mall and walked through the
parking lot to my Jeep.  I told her that I do some camping and
canoeing, and the truck suited my needs.  Sam told me as I drove how
she loved the great outdoors and enjoyed camping a lot.  I talked a
little about the trip I took last fall, of the serenity of the
uncrowded park up north at that time of the year.  I drove to a Thai
restaurant near to my house where I eat often when I'm too busy to cook
something, or too lazy to.

Paul greeted us at the door.  "Good afternoon, Mr. Bradson, table for
two?"

Paul led us to a table by the front window.  I caught his sly wink as
he seated my companion, and I grinned at him.  I asked Sam if she liked
spicy food and she asked me if they had hot and sour soup here.  "Only
the best I've tasted," I said.  We settled on the soup, a beef and
basil curry, and some steamed rice.

I have always wondered how girls blew their noses with a big ring in
them.  Half way through the spicy soup, Sam had a major case of the
sniffles, but she handled it with grace, subtly wiping off her ring
with the tissue afterwards.  I think I embarrassed her by staring, but
I flashed a smile that seemed to make it OK.

I answered Sam's question before she asked it.  I'd been married
before - Susan, my high school sweetheart.  She was killed in a plane
crash about six years ago.  I was angry and bitter for a long time
afterwards.  I threw myself into my work to try and fill the empty
hours, taking on more and more projects, attempting to forget.  It was
while working on a web project for a women's support group that I began
to find people in much the same situation as myself, people who had
lost someone near and dear to them.  I opened contact with a fellow in
Britain who'd had similar experiences, and through a series of long,
personal letters, we were both able to come to grips with what had
happened.

I didn't know if it was my story or the spicy food, but Sam had tears
in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," I said.  "I didn't mean to bring you down.  What my wife
and I had was something special.  The kind of relationship that I think
you are seeking, if you know what I mean.  I'm not trying to replace
her, well maybe a little, but, well, I'm just saying I do know
something of what women like.  Submissive women, I mean."

I didn't think this was going all that well, but Sam took my hand and
looked up at me.  A small tear had run down her cheek and was hanging
off her nose ring.  She touched it with her finger to wipe it away.
She spoke.  "I think you do know what women like me want, Jim.  I don't
know why I'm like this.  But I do know how I feel when something
happens.  I can see you are kind and gentle and that makes me believe I
could trust you.  You don't come across all macho like some guys I've
met.  But I'm not really looking for gentle.  I think I need more than
that."

"You're the first girl I've dated since, well, since Sue," I told her,
"so this is a little awkward for me.  I think I can see what you are
looking for.  I don't want to rush you or anything, but if you want,
dessert at my place?"

Sam hesitated for only a moment.  "Sure," she said.  We stood up and I
paid the check.  There was a bakery next door that we went in to get
the dessert.  The smells of fresh baking assaulted us when I opened the
door for Sam.  I watched her walk around for a while until she stopped
at a rack of still warm pies.  Cherry.  I looked at her and noted her
smile.  I took one and paid, then we got into the Jeep and I drove
home.

I live just outside of the city in a smaller house on a huge lot.
There are trees around the house and the property backs onto forest,
which may one day become a subdivision, but had so far been spared.
Sam looked happy as I drove up the driveway, but I began to think the
relative isolation of the house might give her cause to worry.  She
didn't seem too bothered, however, and told me how quiet and peaceful
it was out here.  I guess living in the city, you miss that.

I unlocked the door and we went in.  I showed Sam the front room I'd
taken over as an office, explaining that I did a lot of my work from
home.  Then the bathroom down the hall, which Sam went to use.  In the
kitchen, I found a bottle of sweet wine that would go nicely with the
pie, and I opened it.  I had two pieces of pie on plates when Sam
returned, and we took them and the drink out back.

My back yard is impressive, one of my larger make-work projects.  After
the pie, we took our glasses and walked the stone path past the hot tub
and swimming pool, through the trees to the fishpond.  Bushes, flowers;
the usual.

Sam took my arm as we made our way back to the house.  I noted the
sparkle in her eyes and decided to move to the next level.  I picked up
the wine bottle, then led Sam inside and downstairs to the rec room.  I
set the bottle on the bar and took Sam's arm.  The ribbon holding her
hair had slipped down to the middle of her back so I pulled it down to
free her hair, spreading it out by running my fingers along its length.
Then I held her close and kissed her.  Sam didn't try to pull away.
Rather, she seemed to melt into me, pressing her body against mine,
returning the kiss with a passion that I'd almost forgotten existed.
It was I who had to break the kiss, holding her close, feeling up and
down her back through her soft hair.  Then she did something that my
wife used to do.  Sam brought her two hands behind her.  My hand, which
was inching towards her bum, touched hers.  I encircled both her wrists
with my fingers and squeezed gently but firmly.


Sam pressed her face to my chest.  I heard her make a little moan when
she tried to pull her hands apart, and I squeezed a little tighter with
my fingers.  When she looked up into my eyes, I saw the beginnings of
the girl's lust etched on her face.  I held her like that for several
minutes, softly stroking her head and arms, kissing her face, her lips,
before releasing her hands to move away from her.  I seated myself on
the couch, leaving her standing there, swaying slightly, her head
tilted down.

"Samantha."  She looked up at me.

"Why don't you get undressed now?"  It was not a question.

The girl standing before me began to unfasten the buttons at the top of
her dress.  Slowly, without looking up, she slid the material off her
shoulders and let the garment drop to the floor.  I tried not to gasp
too loudly.  I'd noticed already that she wore no bra.  The girl's body
was magnificent.  Her pert breasts were topped by delicate nipples,
which I noted were quite stiff, standing out proudly.  Her body tapered
to a lovely waist, then flared again to firm looking hips.  She wore
thin white panties through which I could see the shadow of a small
bush.  Sam didn't need coaxing; she hooked her thumbs in the waistband
and pushed her panties down her perfect legs to her feet.

She bent down and stepped out of the panties, catching the straps of
her sandals and taking them off too.  Then she gathered everything up
and carefully placed her clothes on a nearby chair before returning to
stand before me once more.  She kept her eyes down, her hands behind
her back.  She moved her feet apart a little.  I sipped my wine as I
drank in the sight before me.

My cock was worming its way down the leg of my shorts, threatening to
poke out at the hem.  I had to rearrange things a bit.  The light in
the room sparkled on the two silver rings between the girl's legs.  I
placed my glass down, then motioned to her to come a little closer to
me.  Sam took two steps to stand nearer to me and I placed my hand
between her knees, then slid it up her silky smooth thigh.  When my
finger contacted her rings, I felt her tremble a bit.  I looked closer.

Her bush was nicely trimmed, a small soft patch of fur.  In between
there was no hair.  Her pussy lips swelled as I watched, making her
rings stand out more and separate a little.  When I traced her slit
with my finger it came away moistened with her juices.

"Stay right there," I commanded.  I had to get something.

I stood and went into the other room, my workshop.  I returned with a
short piece of soft nylon rope.  Sam hadn't moved, but her eyes grew
wide when she saw what was in my hand.  I moved to her and laid the
rope across her left shoulder.  I palmed her left breast with the rope
between, gently rubbing her nipple, slowly rolling the silky rope
across it.

"I'm going to tie your hands now," I softly said.

I felt a shudder run through Samantha's body.  I gathered up her hair
to drape it over her shoulder.  I took up the piece of rope and moved
her hands closer together behind her.  After winding the rope around
both her wrists three times, I passed the end between them a couple of
times and tied a knot.  I didn't pull the cinch too tight; she could
probably have worked herself free if she wanted to.  I moved her hair
back and arranged it over her arms.  Then I took her head in my hands
and kissed her again.

I could feel her indecision as to this new turn of events, but only for
a moment.  I soon felt her tugging at the rope binding her hands as the
kiss became more passionate.  Sam was rubbing herself against me when I
broke my lips from hers, and she was panting slightly from the heat
that had built up.  I stroked down her back with one hand, feeling her
arms under her mane of hair, while with the other hand I cupped the
girl's sex.  She spread her thighs and moaned.

I'd kicked off my shoes when we'd entered the house but I still had on
my shirt and shorts.  When I took my hands away from Sam's body and
took a step back, it took a couple of second before she opened her
eyes.  I pulled my shirt out from my shorts and began to unbutton it.
I took it off and tossed it on a chair, then moved closer again.

Hugging Sam close, I could feel her hard nipples boring into my chest,
two little points of fire.  She started to squirm against me, mashing
her tits against my chest.  She hooked her leg around mine to caress my
legs with her foot while grinding herself against the bulge in my
shorts.  I wasn't going to be able to take much more of this.

"Would you like to go upstairs?" I asked.

A throaty purr was my answer.  Taking the girl by the arm, I led her up
the stairs and into the bedroom.  Evening sunlight was streaming in the
windows, sparkling off the brass headboard and spilling across the bed.
I was glad I'd gotten motivated enough to polish the brass last month.
Sam went to the bed and sat down in the centre of it.  She looked
fantastic with the sunlight in her hair.  She sat cross-legged, wide
open to me, and that gave me an idea.  I unbuckled my belt and pulled
it free from my shorts.  I took Sam's knees and spread them apart to
position her ankles closer together, then, using my belt I wrapped it
around her ankles enough times until I could close the buckle.
Samantha discovered that she could no longer bring her knees together.

I stepped back to take my shorts off, letting them fall to the floor.
My prick waved about for a second before zeroing in on the vision
sitting on my bed.  I'm not that big; average, I guess.  But it's not
the weight of the hammer; it's how you swing it, right?  Samantha's
eyes never left it as I made my way across the bed towards her.  I
searched her face for any signs of distress.  What I saw was a kind of
deep fascination with what was happening to her.

I touched her leg.  "Are you all right?" I asked her.

Sam looked up into my eyes.  I felt her leg twitch.  Her mouth was open
and her eyes had a glazed look to them.  She licked her lips, then
spoke in a quiet voice.

"Yes sir, I'm fine."

I shifted her hair and peered around behind her.  The rope was still a
little loose around her wrists and her hands were pink and warm.  She
kept trying to close her legs, but the belt around her ankles made that
impossible.  I reached over her feet to gently touch her pussy,
flicking her rings with a finger.  She arched her back a bit,
supporting herself with her hands so she didn't fall backwards.  While
I stroked her slit, I used my other hand to rub and gently pinch her
nipples.  Each time I squeezed one of her buds, I saw her drift deeper
and deeper into herself, revelling in the feelings of her helplessness.
She leaned back a bit more to push her pussy closer to my hand.  I felt
for her clit and gave it a little squeeze between my finger and thumb.
She jumped, moaning loudly, and I realized that she was ready.

I gathered up all her hair in one hand, making sure there were no loose
strands across her face that would bother her later.  Still holding on
to Sam's hair, I lay on my back on the bed beside her.  I moved around
until my feet were at the head of the bed and I tucked a pillow under
my head.  Sam lay back and, grasping her thigh, I rolled her over on
top of me.  I let her hair fall down along her back.  It was so long
that it stretched across her hands and hung down past her bum, the ends
reaching for her pussy.  The way I'd tied her ankles crosswise, her
thighs were wide-open, leaving plenty of room for my head.  I had to
pause for a moment to admire the scenery.

As I watched, Samantha's pussy lips parted open before me.  The two
silver rings were sticking straight out, separated, on each side of her
open centre.  I could see the girl's glistening inner wetness flushed
with her arousal.  Sam relaxed her head into my crotch, which pulled
her hair up, away from her pussy like the raising of a curtain.  I
gently blew up into her, causing her to shift herself around on top of
me.  Simply stunning.  I took a grip on both her thighs and slid her
body a little closer to me.  I pushed my nose between her rings, then,
with my tongue, I touched her clit.

Samantha went wild.  She started bucking her hips against my face and
writhing on top of me.  I took a firm grip on one thigh, and with my
other hand, I hooked my fingers in the rope around her wrists.  I
didn't want her to roll off me; maybe fall off the bed and get hurt.

My holding her tighter was like gasoline on a fire.  She started to
struggle harder.  I wanted to raise my head to see if she was all right
but got a mouth full of cunt as she ground herself into me.  Suddenly I
got a face full of warm liquid as Sam went off like a firecracker,
going all rigid and moaning loudly.  I pushed my tongue up inside her
to feel her cunt rhythmically grasping at it.  She squeezed my head
between her thighs despite the belt around her ankles.  Then she almost
pulled her hands away from my grasp as she came again, this time
writhing madly and screaming out in a loud, high pitched wail.

Finally, she slumped down on top of me, her breath hot and heavy on my
balls.  I'd almost cum too with all the writhing she'd done, but my
erection was still painfully hard, the head nestled snugly between her
tits.  I reached down to snag the corner of the sheet to wipe off my
face a bit.  Then I felt above my head to undo the belt around
Samantha's ankles.  Tilting my head back, I could see some red marks
left by the belt but it didn't look too bad.  Sam's feet separated, and
with a soft sigh she let them fall to the bed.

I gently rolled the now limp girl off me and sat up.  Her eyes were
closed and there was a look of peaceful serenity about her that I found
extremely endearing.  When I shifted on the bed, her eyes popped open
and her mouth spread in a huge grin.

"Be right back," I said.

I went to the bathroom to splash some water over my face.  Pussy juice
doesn't bother me but I've heard that some women don't like the taste
or smell of themselves, and I wasn't finished with Sam yet.  Just a
quick splash, then I returned with the towel to mop some of the
slickness from Samantha's thighs and crotch.  I took a look at her
hands to make sure the rope had not twisted or tightened, cutting off
the circulation.  She was fine.  I held her close, stroking her head.
She was still a bit groggy from her explosive orgasm, still twitchy
from its after-effects.

After a few minutes, Sam started to snuggle closer to me, becoming more
aware of where she was.  She tried to bring her hands around to touch
me but discovered them to be still bound behind her back.  She let out
a long breath and simply said, "Wow!"

"Did you enjoy that?" I asked with a straight face.

When she looked up, she saw me grin and she laughed.  Sam told me that
she had never cum so quickly like that before, never so intensely.  She
went on to say how she'd felt so helpless and so exposed with the way
I'd tied her that she'd just let herself go.  When I had grabbed the
rope at her wrists and she tried to pull away but couldn't, the
feelings she'd had were like nothing she'd ever experienced before.

"I've let myself be tied up before," Samantha said to me, "and
sometimes I, uh, I tie myself up, you know.  Some guys can be real
jerks about it, but I don't feel that way with you, Jim.  When you
first put this rope on me," she brought her hands to her side as much
as she was able to, "I realized that you wouldn't let anything bad
happen to me."

My hard-on was still raging, quivering slightly, pressed against Sam's
stomach.  I said, "I'm pleased that you could find trust in me so
quickly.  I'm not really into pain or discomfort, although I'm not
above giving you a taste, if that's what you're looking for.  What I am
looking for is a kind of symbiotic relationship where we can both give
and receive that which we need.  Where one yields a certain amount of
control to another.  That is the essence of this type of relationship,
the D&S lifestyle as it's called."

There was a definite slickness on Sam's belly, my pre cum being spread
around each time my cock twitched.  She noticed it too and shifted
around to touch me there with her foot.  Oh, did I mention that I kind
of have a thing for bare feet?  Sam moved away a bit more, then laying
on her bound hands, she started using both her soft, smooth feet to
stroke me there.  She soon had the head of my cock between her soles
and was rolling and stroking it.  I had to make her stop and I placed
my hands on her feet.

"I don't think you know how much I like that," I said to her.

"I sort of thought you might," Sam answered.  "Shall I continue?"

I had thought she didn't notice my stealing glances at her feet every
chance I got.  But then subtlety was never my strong suit.  Sam's
little toe ring was winking at me as she worked her foot up and down my
dick.  Her thighs were spread open, and with her hands underneath her
ass, her pussy was pushed up, giving me a nice view of her two labia
rings, which shifted around a bit as she stroked me.  It didn't take
long at all before I was spurting cum all over her dainty toes.  Sam
let out a giggle as I grabbed for the towel to catch the mess before it
spread all over the place.  Since my secret was out, I spent more time
than necessary wiping the cum off her feet and toes.  I noticed, much
to my delight, that she wasn't ticklish there, and began to trace every
inch of her lovely feet with my fingers, giving her a nice foot massage
in the process.

Samantha rolled over on her side to stretch out beside me, upside down.
She pushed her feet closer to my face and inched closer to mine.  She
ran her tongue across the top of my foot, then opened her mouth to draw
my big toe into her mouth.  I was shocked.  Pleased as hell, too.  I
took her foot in my hand, by chance the one with the toe ring, and gave
it a tongue wash that she seemed to enjoy very much.  After not much
longer, Sam was panting with desire and my cock was getting hard again.

I reached for the rope holding her hands and began to untie her.  I saw
a flicker of disappointment flash across her face before she realized
what I was going to do.  Snagging a pillow, I placed it at the end of
the bed, and then had her lay on her back.  Sam's arms were stiff from
being tied so long, so I gave her a moment to adjust.

"You are on the pill, yes?" I asked.

"Yes."

My bed, brass and quite solid, has a footboard consisting of bars and
fancy scrollwork.  All nice and convenient.  I guided Sam's hands
through and around one of the bars, then tied her wrists together
again.  I tied them a little tighter this time.  When I'd finished, I
sat down beside her and just watched for a moment.  Sam's eyes darted
around, taking in her new situation.  I watched her look up, bringing
her hands up to see them tied on the other side of the bed frame.  She
moved to grasp the bar that was between her arms to verify its
existence, its solidity.  The look that came over her face after she'd
confirmed she was truly stuck was absolutely priceless.  A flicker of
fear mixed with unbridled lust, followed by a look of total surrender
that was so touching I almost sobbed aloud.

I spent the next half hour torturing my pretty young captive.  I stayed
away from her so-sensitive clit, concentrating instead on her nipples,
which I quickly found out were almost equally as responsive.  With only
a little sucking and licking, she was writhing in wanton lust again.  I
caught her grinding her thighs together, trying to push herself over
the edge, and I stopped.  I was going to tie her ankles together like
before, but another idea came to me.  I held her legs still until she
calmed enough to hear me.

"Samantha," I said in my most commanding voice.  She looked at me.

"I don't want you to cum until I say you may do so."

Her eyes got wide for a moment.  I felt her tense as she let out a soft
moan.  She nodded her head in acceptance of the order.  I took it easy
on her, stroking her belly while gently tonguing her nipples.  Once or
twice, I let my hand stray towards her pussy.  While I toyed with her
rings, I let her fight her urgent need to let go with her other need to
obey my command not to cum.  I could see it was a tough struggle.  When
she looked like she would fall over the edge, I backed off, giving her
a chance for a better grip, before pressing on.  At one point, while
she was bucking her hips up, humping air, I managed to slip the towel
under her to catch the flood of juices pouring out.  I drove the poor
dear to a state of mindless wailing before I slowly pushed my finger
between her pussy lip rings.

Bending close to her ear, I spoke.  "Come for me Samantha."

With one finger inside her, I gently flicked across her clit with my
thumbnail, then pressed on that little button with the pad of my thumb.
Nothing happened for a second, and I pressed the button again.  Then I
started to feel a kind of a vibration on my finger inside Sam's cunt.

What happened next was a sight to behold.  The girl tied to my bed
seemed to explode in a fury of movement.  I made a lunge to hold her
arms before she broke her wrists thrashing against the bar of the bed
frame.  Her high keening wail deafened me and her legs corkscrewed in
different directions as she came and came.  My finger inside the girl's
cunt was almost torn off, gripped tightly inside her while I fought to
keep her from doing herself, and me, an injury.  Samantha seemed caught
up for almost a full minute in such a forceful orgasm; I began to get a
little worried.  Near the end she just ran out of steam and collapsed
in a sweaty, exhausted mass of divine girl flesh.  I heard her heart
hammering in her chest, strong and regular, beginning to slow, and I
knew then that she'd recover, eventually.

I sat with her for several minutes, watching her occasionally jerk and
moan.  I nipped out to the kitchen and poured a glass of orange juice,
then returned to the bedroom.  It was starting to get dark so I turned
on a soft light in the corner, then sat down beside Sam again.  Her
eyes flickered open but it took a few moments before she became aware
of me again.

"Hi," I said.

She moaned softly.  I took a sip from the glass of juice and smacked my
lips.  She stared longingly at the glass of refreshing liquid.

"Want some?" I asked.

Sam made a move with her hands but was stopped short by the bar in the
footboard.  She looked back, seeming to notice for the first time that
she was tied up to the bed, and groaned again.  I held her head up and
let her sip from the glass of juice.  She dropped her head to the
pillow with a contented smile on her lips.  I took another swallow of
the juice, then set the glass on the bedside table.

I did want to fuck Samantha, but I didn't think she'd want to now,
after what she'd just been put through.  When I turned to her, I was
just going to untie her for a while.  Sam lifted up her knees and
wiggled her bum provocatively at me with a big grin on her face.  I got
between her knees, stroked her thighs, and kissed her taut tummy.  I
inched my way upward, planting little kisses, until I reached her face
where I locked my lips to hers and pushed my tongue past her teeth.
Her recovery now nearly complete, her tongue danced with mine as she
brought her feet up to caress my thighs and bum.  I noticed she kept
trying to bring her hands downwards to touch me.

Sam saw me looking up and her eyes followed mine towards her hands, the
rope wrapped and tied around her wrists, the thick brass bar between
her arms.  She brought her hands up and touched the bar, running her
fingers up and down it, stroking it.  I could feel the girl's heat
building up once more.  I reached down to position myself at her
entrance, then began to slowly push inside.  While I couldn't say I
felt Sam's rings, I could vividly picture them sliding along the length
of my cock as I plunged into her.  She seemed ready to go again and
would give a little yelp each time I pushed into her.  It was not a cry
of pain, I knew.  Samantha was in heaven and loving every second.  I
watched her twisting her wrists and pulling against the rope.  I knew
she must have been hurting there with all the thrashing she'd done
earlier.  I could also see that she was getting off on it.  I reached
out along her arm, past the bar to hold her hands.  I moved to kiss her
passionately on the lips, then I started to bang into her in earnest.

Her cunt was so well lubricated that it was difficult to get much
friction.  A couple times, I pulled out to wipe my cock on the wet
towel that was still under her crotch.  In the end, I just pumped into
her with wild abandon while she writhed beneath me, her heels at my ass
driving me on.  Her wrists were going to have a major case of rope burn
but I was past the point of worry.  Samantha's cunt was nice and tight,
but with all her juices, it felt smooth and slick, slippery as oiled
glass, enabling me to last much longer than was usual.

After what seemed like forever, I started to feel a momentum begin to
build deep within.  Sam had cum twice all ready, little novas where
she'd go all tense and clamp her pussy down hard on my dick while I
slowed to ride her out.  By this time my arms were getting tired, so I
collapsed my full weight on Sam, grinding her tits against my chest as
I pistoned my cock into that slick warmth of her delicious twat.  She
moaned loud in my ear and made another grab for my head, her hands
banging on the bar between.  Desire was boiling in my loins, a
shockwave rushing down my spine.  I slowed, pushing hard into her, then
started to cum with such intensity I almost passed out.

Samantha had wrapped her legs tight around my hips and was squeezing me
with a vice-like grip when I exploded inside her.  Each spurt of my
seed brought a tiny squeak from her which I barely heard, and her hips
would push up to draw me in deeper.  I was literally sucked dry when
I'd finished, almost falling over, collapsing nearly comatose on the
sweet creature tied to my bed.  We lay like that for several minutes,
puffing and blowing our hot breath on each other's necks, before I
regained enough strength to lift myself a bit and roll off her.  My
cock came out with a wet sounding plop followed by a gush of Sam's
juices mixed with my cum.

I reached through the bars of the bed and managed to untie the rope.
When her hands were free, she gathered the towel in her crotch and
waddled off to the bathroom.  As I lay on my back, slowly recovering, I
heard Sam dribbling in the toilet, then run some water, I guessed to
wash herself off a bit.  In a while, she returned to stand in the
bedroom doorway looking like Venus incarnate, sweaty tousled hair and
all.  I held out my hand to her and she came to me, moving cat like
across the bed to snuggle close with her head on my chest.  She looked
up into my eyes.

"Well," I said with a grin, "that was quite nice."

Samantha looked down.  I saw that her lip quivered, just a bit.  There
was something bothering her, I thought, perhaps it had all been too
nice.  I took her hands in mine, examining her wrists for marks.  The
soft nylon rope hadn't done any real damage to her wrists despite the
workout she'd given them.  There was redness around them from the
rubbing and straining but it didn't look too bad.  She watched as I
rubbed the marks gently, then I gave her a little kiss.

"Come on," I said.  "Let's get cleaned up."

I took her hand in mine to lead her to the bathroom and I turned on the
shower.  When the water was warm, I let Sam get in, then stepped in
behind her.  I tenderly rubbed her luscious body all over with a soapy
cloth, ever so gently on her nipples and between her legs.  I gave
myself a quick once over.  Sam took the washcloth from me to scrub my
back, spending wonderful minutes on my ass, and in front, softly across
my dick and balls.  We held each other close, rubbing our soapy slick
bodies together, then I used the hand held spray to rinse us off.  I
asked if I could do her hair.

I got Sam to kneel in the bottom of the tub and I knelt behind her.  I
gathered up the mass of her beautiful mane and worked some shampoo into
it.  I guess I made a fool of myself telling her over and over how
lovely her hair was, but I thought it really was stunning.  After the
wash, I used some conditioner I found, working it into her scalp and
along those luscious strands.  My cock was hard again and it was so
tempting to push it in from behind, but I managed to resist.  I
suspected there would be a better opportunity later on.  At least a
more comfortable one.

Another rinse and I had Sam step out of the tub so I could dry her off.
I ran my comb through her hair, then I went downstairs to get her
clothes.  I pulled my shorts on, Sam wore just the cotton dress, and I
fixed some tea and the rest of the pie, which we had outside in the
back yard.  It was a nice summer evening, a gentle breeze, few bugs.

"I could drive you home," I began, "but I'd much rather you spent the
night here with me.  We could maybe do something tomorrow before I take
you back."

Her voice was soft.  "You want me to stay?"

"If you'd like to," I said.  "Of course, I'd have to chain you to the
bed tonight."

I saw a little grin pull at the corners of her mouth.  Her awe-
inspiring orgasms must have scared off a previous boyfriend at one time
or other.  I thought that might have been what was bothering her
before, that she'd grossed me out with all the thrashing and squirting
she'd done earlier on.  While I could see she'd be more than a handful
in bed, I felt honoured that it was my doing that brought about such a
display of raw passion, and I told her so in as many words.  That
seemed to lift her spirits immensely.  As we strolled the garden in the
moonlight, she opened up a little more to me.

"I had a boyfriend in college," she told me, "with whom I thought I'd
be really happy.  He'd do stuff to me, like what you did, but more so.
But after several weeks, we broke up.  He said that he thought I was
swell and all, but he thought I was a little too much to handle.  He
lived in residence, and one day up in his room, well, I guess we made
too much noise.  I did.  Anyway, guys on the floor razzed him about it
for a long time."

We'd sat on the bench beside the fishpond; the goldfish lazing at the
surface, hoping for a bug to land.

"You shouldn't be embarrassed about the way you are, Sam.  Not a lot of
people can just let go as you do, just let the passion carry you off
like that.  I have to say that I'm very happy to have found you and I'd
be pleased to try to give you the happiness you've been looking for."

Movement in the pond caught Sam's attention and she leaned forward to
watch three fish, flashing silver and gold, attack something that had
fallen in.  I stroked her damp hair.  She snuggled closer and I held
her in my arms.  I whispered in her ear.

"What can I do for you, Samantha?  How can I make your deepest fantasy
come alive?"

Activity in the pond had subsided, the winner gagging on a big moth
crammed in its mouth.  Sam stared at the pond.  I hoped I hadn't
spooked her with my question.  I felt her shudder.  She spoke, softly
at first.

"Paul, the boyfriend I had at college, he used to punish me sometimes.
Not seriously, but just fooling around.  He'd sometimes give my ass a
swat; hold me down and spank me a few times, you know.  One time we
were at a friend's house; we were alone.  He tied me up to the bed.  He
used his belt to whip me on the bum.  At first, it was just in fun, but
then he didn't stop, just kept on hitting me on my bum, my back, and my
legs.  It started to really hurt a lot, but he still didn't stop, even
after I started to scream for him to stop, but he just kept on slashing
me over and over with the belt.

"Finally, he stopped.  I was crying into the pillow and Paul sat beside
me to try to comfort me.  He said he was really sorry and that he
didn't know what came over him.  He untied me and later on took me
home.  We didn't see each other for two weeks, but then I went with him
to dinner at a nice restaurant.  He told me over and over how sorry he
was and how he'd never do anything like that again.  That was the day
we broke up.  I didn't want to see him anymore after that.  I was
afraid to."

I let the silence stretch out, then I said, "Sam, it's not very nice
what happened to you.  I know that it's all too easy to get carried
away in a situation like that, but in a power exchange scene one has to
trust that the other won't go too far, won't try to push someone beyond
their limits.  Perhaps your boyfriend wanted to push you just a bit,
and then he let things get out of hand, but when it stopped being fun
for you, he should have had enough control to stop.  A little pain can
spice things up sometimes, but for a lot of people it's just not the
right thing."

"No, Jim." Sam said.  "You don't understand.  I wasn't scared of the
pain when he was hitting me.  I was afraid of how it felt."

She paused for a moment, then went on in a quiet shaky voice.  "I got
scared because I started to like it."

I sat dumbstruck for several seconds.  My wife used to like it too.
Sometimes it would frighten and amaze me how someone could find such
pleasure in such agony.  Susan had tried to explain it to me several
times; how it would consume all other thoughts, free her mind and body
to experience a kind of nirvana which would invariably end in such an
incredible flood of release it would leave me as exhausted as she.  I
never could understand it.  But the proof was in her striped, sweaty
body hanging in the chains, her cries of anguish and screams of lust
echoing in the basement, and after, days, weeks after, my precious Sue,
so quiet, subdued, so demure.  The inner fire shining bright in her
lovely eyes.

"Oh, Sam," I choked back a tear.  "My wife, God rest her soul, she
liked it too.  I was, at first, loathe to hurt her, to mark that
beautiful body of hers.  But each time we did it, I could see
afterwards, such a calm, such peace it would bring to her.  The marks
would fade but the feelings seemed to linger long after.  It took some
time for us to find the balance between what she wanted and how much I
was willing to give.  'Harder you wimp' she'd yell, 'MORE!'  She'd
curse me and I'd put a bit more snap in the next swing, the next
stroke.  I could see it start to build in her and I'd slow, bank the
fire with a flick here, and there.  Then, I'd guide her through it,
watching spellbound while she shook the frame, rattling her chains,
become totally consumed by the force gripping her.  So pure, sweet.

"I'd take her down, carry her upstairs, and tend her wounds.  I'd feel
low, what I'd done to her.  But at some point, she would look deep into
my eyes and she would thank me.  Thank me for letting her experience
that, and for being there for her after.  I'd sit up with her,
sometimes all night.  A glass of water, help her to the bathroom.  Just
sit and stare in awe at her.  She would be so full of life after a
session, so alive.  So alive."

I told myself I wasn't going to cry.  I'd done all the crying, a year's
worth, after the accident.  It was painful remembering those times,
though.  I held Samantha tight, drawing strength from her.  We sat for
a while in the quiet of the night, neither of us wanting to break into
the silence, to spoil the mood.  Finally, I said 'let's go to bed' and
we left the bench by the fishpond to go back inside.

I found a piece of chain and two brass padlocks.  It's funny, but after
all this time I knew right where to look for them.  When Sam finished
in the bathroom, I showed her the locks, how the key opened both of
them.  She got on the bed and I locked one end of the chain around her
right ankle, the other end to the bed frame, and put the key on the
table on my side of the bed.  We cuddled for a while, then Sam spoke.

"Jim?" she asked.  "I know maybe I shouldn't ask, but I just have to.
Would you, you know?  Could you do what you talked about in the garden,
to me?"

After only a moments hesitation I said, "Sure, Sam.  If you want me to,
I could.  But I won't do it now.  Next weekend, after you've thought
about it, and are sure you still want me to, I will."

"Thanks, Jim."

We drifted off to sleep.  Several times that night I woke, the girl's
luscious body pressed against mine, and I remembered what I had, what
I'd missed for too long now.  What I hoped, what I needed, to have once
more.


[Part 2]

Morning's grey light pushed past my eyelids as I began to waken.
Samantha's head was on my shoulder, my arm around her, my fingers
tangled in her hair.  I could feel her leg over mine, the chain around
her ankle digging into my shin.  Her steady breathing pushed her little
belly rhythmically against my side.  The scent of last night's passion
still lingered in the air.

I shifted slightly to get the feeling back into my arm and Sam's eyes
flickered open.  She looked up and our eyes locked.  She smiled.

"Morning, sweety," I said.

Sam moved her leg, discovering the chain locked around her ankle.  She
brought her hand down to encounter my usual morning erection.  She
giggled and wrapped her hand around it.  She moved her head downward,
trailing her hair across my chest, to touch her tongue on the end of my
cock, then shifted a bit more to take the head into her mouth.  Sam got
onto her knees, then bent to continue sucking on me.  I stroked her
side with my hand, stretching to feel her ass.  She tried to move her
bum up closer to me, but was pulled up short by the chain on her ankle,
the lock banging against the bed frame, loud in the quiet of early
morning.  I obliged by moving around a bit until I could stroke her
pussy.  She continued the blowjob.

Her two labia rings were fascinating me.  I tugged on them, gently of
course, but then a little harder.  I asked if that hurt and she shook
her head, no.  I yanked a bit harder.  Sam put her teeth to my cock,
not hard, but I got the idea.  I flicked her rings with my fingertip,
hearing them tinkle together.  I could actually hear the pitch change
as her lips puffed up with her arousal.  Amazing.  I pushed one finger
inside her, stroking her in there, feeling the searing heat at her
centre, slippery wetness beginning to build.

Sam started to bob her head on my cock.  I slid in another finger,
rubbing her clit with my thumb.  Her movements became more energetic,
sucking me hard, taking my cock deeper and deeper each time until she
managed to bottom out with it deep down her throat.  I started to get
dangerously close then, and had to close my eyes to the sight of her
delectable body for fear of losing it totally.  Sam seemed to sense the
change and removed her mouth from my cock.  She sat back on her heels,
pushing herself harder on my hand.  Then she put one leg over to
straddle me.

She tried to get her pussy over my throbbing dick but the chain on her
leg wouldn't let her.  She pulled her foot against it, but of course,
steel doesn't stretch much.  I amused myself for a minute watching her
struggle, then I moved around until we lined up better and she sank
down, enveloping me in slick, soft, warmth.  At first she just sat
there with my cock inside her, grinning wide as her juices leaked past
it.  Then she started a slow grinding against me, moving her hips in a
little circle, stirring her pot with my dipper.  She'd raise herself up
and I could see her rings on either side of my cock.  Once, I put my
fingers there to press them against me.  I could feel the two rings
against my cock, two points of hardness in all that soft flesh.  Wild.

Sam bent down to kiss me and started a slow stroking of my dick by
moving back and forth on top of me.  I snagged her nose ring between my
lips.  I gathered up her hair in my two hands and pulled her head to
mine while I toyed with her nose ring with my tongue.  Sam moaned loud
as a tremor ran through her, her foot pulling against the chain,
rattling the lock.  She began to buck harder on me, grinding her clit
against my pubic bone.  I was close too.  A few moments later, I pushed
hard up into her as her cunt clamped tight on my cock.  We gave voice
to our lust in grunts and cries of ecstasy as we locked together in
mind-blowing orgasm.

Samantha's long thick hair covered us both, draped from her head like a
soft tickling blanket.  Our faces were close, cocooned within her lush
mane, and I held her tight, kissing her softly for a while, savouring
the peaceful after effects of our wild passion.  My cock grew soft
inside her, slipping out eventually, followed by a gush of warm wetness
that I could feel spreading over my thighs and running down to the
sheets underneath me.  Definitely will need to do the laundry tonight,
I thought.  Sam moved off me and I reached for the key.  I opened the
lock, freeing her foot from the chain, then removed the other end from
the bed.

"Why don't you go get cleaned up while I start some breakfast," I said
to her.

Sam went off to the bathroom and I stripped off the sodden sheets from
the bed.  I gathered up enough stuff for a load, then went to the
kitchen and put on the coffee.  I waited until Sam was finished in the
shower before turning on the washing machine so as not to blast her
with cold water.  I had some bacon and eggs in the pan when Sam joined
me in the kitchen looking fresh and clean, eyes sparkling and a big
grin on her face.  I poured her some coffee.

I served my guest her breakfast, then went to the door for the morning
paper.  Over the meal, we looked at the entertainment section.  There
were things going on at Harbourfront, a touristy area on the city's
waterfront.  There is usually music of some sort in a big band shell
there, and generally quite a nice place to spend an afternoon.  Sam
agreed.  After I finished eating, I grabbed a quick shower.  I made up
the bed with fresh sheets.  When I was done I couldn't find Sam, then I
looked out back, past the trees and saw her, sitting on the bench
beside the pond.  Morning clouds had given way to bright sunshine, a
promise of a glorious day.  I took a coffee, a few fish pellets, and
went out to join her.

Sam looked up as I approached, smiling brightly.  I held out my hand to
drop the fish food into hers, then sat beside her.  Sam tossed a few
pellets in, then watched as the fish darted around the plants, flashing
in the bright sunlight to come up and snatch the food.  As if on cue, a
big lunker jumped right out of the water to flop down on a lily pad,
thrashed a bit, then rolled back into the water.  Sam giggled with
glee, a soft tinkling in the still morning air.  I snuggled closer,
nuzzled her neck, and breathed in the girl's fresh scent.

"I can't tell you," I began, "how glad I am to have met you, Sam.  You
are a really nice girl."

"Thank you," she replied, then added, "Sir."

"It's Jim," I said.  "You don't have to call me sir, or master.  When
we're outside like this, we're equals, OK?  Other times, like last
night, it's different.  If you want me to be 'master' that's fine."

"Thank you, master."

I laughed, and so did she.  Then she started to get a serious look
about her.

"Did you mean," she asked, "what you said last night, about, you know."
She blushed a bit.  "About spanking me?"

"Samantha," I said.  "You honour me by placing your trust in me to do
that.  And yes, I would be pleased to do it to you.  Don't think you
have to or anything.  Last night was great, for me.  Very nice.  I
would be more than happy if we stayed at that level of pleasure.  If we
do this and you find it's not for you, that's fine too, but if we take
that step, and if that's what you want, I want you to be sure you know
that I'll give you only what I'm certain you can handle."

We sat for a moment, then Sam said, "Thank you...Jim."

"Come on," I said.  "I want to show you something."

We stood up and I took Sam inside and down to the basement.  In the rec
room, I switched on the lights, then walked her around the room,
pointing out the concealed hooks in the ceiling, in the walls behind
pictures.  Mounting points for devices of some sort, anchors for ropes,
or chains.  The heavy coffee table in the centre of the room, subtle
wear points here and there, as if a rope or something had rubbed at the
finish.  In the workshop, I brought down a wooden box, carvings on the
sides and top, dusty.  Untouched for years.  I carried it reverently to
the bench where I removed the twisted wire from the hasp and lifted the
lid.  We both looked inside in wonderment.  I took some items from
inside, my heart hammering in my chest, visions and memories from a
time so long ago.

The leather dry and stiff.  Metal work, buckles, and chain; not as
shiny and bright as I remembered.  In the bottom, a couple of wood
paddles that made Sam gasp, a small flogger, the strands twisted, dried
out, the coiled whip in the very bottom.  Untouched, unloved.  Happy
mementos from a past filled with joy.

Was it wrong, what I was doing?  It somehow felt wrong, letting another
woman see these things.  Samantha's fingers touched the smooth surface
of the paddle.  That waxed surface, which had smacked my wife's ass
over and over until she cried out in pain, her screams shrill,
deafening.  Her moans as she orgasmed, low and throaty.  Someone had
told me, when I was at the lowest point, that Susan would have wanted
me to get over her death, to move on with my life.  I now hoped that
was true.

I took one of the leather cuffs and buckled it around Sam's wrist.  She
stood silent as I did, then she slowly brought her hand up to look at
it.  It was just a bit loose on her wrist; hers was a little thinner
than Sue's had been.  I took her hand in mine, felt around the cuff,
then brought it to my face and kissed her wrist.  The smell as I
inhaled, the faint smell of the leather and, could it be?  Susan?

I took the cuff off Sam's wrist, tenderly placed everything inside the
box, and closed the lid.  I left it on the workbench, under the light.
I walked Sam back up to the kitchen, poured two cups of coffee, and sat
with her at the table.  Neither of us had broken the silence since we
entered the house.  I now spoke.

"It felt a bit strange showing you those things, Sam.  Showing you my
wife's things.  We had a lot of fun with all that stuff, many memorable
moments.  Yesterday, I feel, marked a turning point in my life.  I know
that I have a lot of emotional baggage that I've been carrying around,
for too long now.  You've only known me for a short while, and I can
understand if you don't want to be bothered with me, but I really think
I could give you what you want, make you happy, if you'll let me.  I
know that I'd love to try."

"I can't imagine how hard it was," Sam said, "to lose someone like
that.  Your wife was a lucky woman to have what she had.  When you took
me in your arms that first time, last night, I saw then what you are
like.  When you sat and ordered me to take off my dress, I knew that I
would do anything you asked of me.  Last night was wonderful, Jim.  I
want to see you more, lots more.  Next weekend I want you to do those
things to me.  I need you to do it."

I had to smile then.  What an ego boost.  This lovely creature
practically begging me to paddle her bum, perhaps worse.  I reached for
her hand and said, "Come on, let's get out of here."

Sam used my comb to brush out her hair while I brushed my teeth and got
ready.  I watched her as she tied her hair back with the piece of red
ribbon again.  I held her in a tight embrace for a while before we went
out and got in the truck for the drive down town.

It was a gorgeous, roll down the windows kind of summer day as I sped
down the highway.  With my pretty companion by my side I felt on top of
the world.  About half an hour later I was nosing along, looking for a
parking spot.  It was still early and I found a place not too far away.
The area was crowded with lots of people walking around, taking in the
sights, the nice weather.  We stopped and had lunch, fish and chips at
an open-air cafe by the water, then wandered around some more.  A big
area was packed with vendors' tables selling all kinds of stuff.

Sam found a nice short leather skirt, which I liked as well.

"Go try it on," I told her.

Sam disappeared behind a curtain.  She came out a moment later and held
up her dress for me to see.  I motioned for her to hike her dress up a
little more.  The skirt accentuated her narrow waist nicely and
highlighted her lovely legs.  She saw me smile.

"You like?" she asked.

"Yes, I do," I said and pulled out my wallet.

"It's a little expensive," Sam said.

"My treat."

"No.  I couldn't"

"My treat," I said again.  "You need a belt to go with it."

The vendor offered me his selection of belts and I spied a nice silver
chain one that I liked.  I handed it to Sam.  I held her dress up while
she tried the belt on.

"Let me pay half then," she said.

I gave her a frosty look.  It was so cute.  Her mouth clamped closed
and her eyes dropped.  I just had to tip her head up and give her a big
kiss.  She smiled again.  In front of all, she took off the skirt,
giving someone I'm sure, a glimpse of her thin panties before her dress
fell down to cover her.  She handed it to me.  I paid the man, who
bagged our purchase, and we set off again.  Sam held my arm as we
walked along the wharf, looking at all the big boats tied up there.  We
found a quiet spot to cuddle for a while like two star struck lovers.
Later on, the beat from the bandstand drew us.

The group was good, I could tell, but not really the kind of music I
liked.  Sam enjoyed it though.  It was late afternoon before we
returned to my Jeep.  Sam gave me directions to her place, an older
apartment building in a nice area, just to the east of town.  I wrote
my phone numbers at the hospital and at home on a card, then handed it
to her.  She gave me her number.

"I'll call you in a day or two," I said.  "I really want to see you
again.  Next Friday?  Like we talked about?"

"Call me, Jim.  I'd like that."

Sam got out and I waited until she went into the building before
driving away.  I cruised through the streets, found the expressway, and
powered up the ramp.  Tunes blasting on the radio, the wind in my hair,
life was, once more, good.

On the way home, I stopped at a store to pick up milk and some other
things for dinner.  Passing one shelf, I noticed something that I also
needed.  Neat's-foot oil and some leather cleaner and conditioner.  I
picked up a bottle of each; I already had metal polish at home.

When I arrived home, I put on a can of soup to heat, then went down to
the workroom.  The box was still on the bench, where I'd left it.  The
flogger was a lovely piece of work.  Made special by a fellow I'd
talked to at a country fair, and he'd shown me some of his custom items
in the back of his truck.  I remembered the way it swung as I hefted
it.  I read the instructions on the bottles I'd bought, then poured
some oil into my hand and carefully worked it into the strands of
leather.  I could feel the stiffness leave as the leather gratefully
soaked up the nourishing oil.  I left it to sit while I washed off my
hands, then went up to make some dinner.

After soup and a sandwich, I returned downstairs.  I spent the rest of
that evening cleaning, repairing, and polishing the items from the
wooden box, and the box itself, scrubbing the dust out from the
carvings on its surface.  I'd made most of that box.  I'm no artist, so
I cut the pieces of birch and fitted everything together.  I copied
some drawings from an old book I'd seen at a friend's house, lovely
drawings of women tied up in various ways and positions.  I took the
box pieces and the drawings to a local artisan and had him do the
carvings.  When it was all done the result was simply stunning.  It
still was.

The contents of the box survived their exile quite well, apart from a
few small cracks here and there in the leather cuffs, which actually
gave them a bit of character, I thought.  The whips made it without any
damage.  The flogger, which had looked the worst, hung straight now,
the leather strips soft and supple.  More work was needed on the metal
things, but I decided to call it a night and went upstairs.  After
watching a bit of news on the television, I went to bed.

Work started not too busy that week and I managed to finish a couple of
projects.  Finished the cleaning and polishing of the goodies in the
box too.  Wednesday, while surfing the net for some information, I
stumbled across a sex site I remembered from before that gave me an
idea.  After trying a few incarnations of an old URL I'd thought of,
without success, I hunted down a backup disk of old bookmark files.
The page and the nightclub had not moved.  Fetish night at the
Catacombs.  This Thursday night.  Doors open at nine.  Excellent!

That evening I called Samantha.  She picked up on the third ring and I
heard that soft, slightly husky voice that had started it all.

"Hi Sam, It's me, Jim."

"Oh hi.  I was just thinking of you."

"Listen, there's a nightclub down town that we used to go to, and I was
wondering if you would like to go tomorrow night."

We?  Oops.  There was a pause, but Sam was thinking.

"I don't have to be at work early on Friday.  Not till ten thirty."

I pressed on.  "It starts at nine.  If I remember, things don't get
interesting until later, but I could have you back before midnight, if
you want.  It's a fetish night, a kind of a meeting of like-minded
people.  People like me, and you.  It might be interesting."

"Sure.  Sounds like fun."

I spelled out the URL for her.  "Check out the web site.  Let me know
if you change your mind.  Oh, if you want to go, wear something
fetishy, but not too outrageous.  Mostly people go there to chat and
stuff.  And show off.  Pick you up at nine?"

"Thanks, Jim.  I'll see you then."

"Bye Sam.  Love you."  Oops, again.

There was a pause, then Sam softly said, "Love you too."

I heard the click as she hung up, then listened to dead air as my mind
churned.  Things seemed to be moving kinda fast, not like it used to
be.  I'd had Samantha in my bed not five hours after first meeting her.
And now?  The L word?  The buzz of the phone shook me and I hung it up.
Oh well.  We are both adults, and I guess we both knew what we were
looking for.  Finding it so suddenly was just a bit of a shock to me.

Thursday morning all hell broke loose.  First, a site I'd made up for a
client needed major changes.  Right now.  I sifted through the twenty
pages, adding things they'd sent me, taking stuff out.  I no sooner
sent the changed files out when the Hospital called, big problems,
system down.  I jumped in the truck and spent the afternoon there.

After that crisis was solved, I rushed home to eat some take out,
shower, and change.  I looked at myself in the mirror.  Black jeans, a
black tee shirt.  Black hiking boots.  Needs something, I thought.  Not
a watch.  No.  I looked in a drawer and found the two steel bracelets I
use to wear a lot, before.  Just round steel rod, bent in a circle and
welded closed.  I spent five minutes with the metal polish, making them
gleam once more, then pushed them over my hands.  I didn't remember
them being so heavy but when I checked the mirror again I liked the
effect.

Back in the Jeep, I pushed along the expressway and arrived at Sam's
front door at five to nine.  Sam was standing in the lobby waiting for
me.  I watched her come out and walk over to the truck.  I leaned over
to open the door for her.

"You look great," I said.

Sam was wearing the short leather skirt I'd bought for her.  She had on
a tight, belly revealing, silky looking shirt and had a black leather
vest over that, open in front.  Her arms were bare, as were her legs.
Thick white socks at her ankles and black boots completed the outfit.
She had on the chain belt and she reached into her pocket to pull out a
matching silver dog chain.  She held it up to her neck.

"Would this be too much?" she asked me.

I took the chain from her.  Just your standard doggie choke chain, but
its links matched her belt almost perfectly.  I put it over her head
and worked it on.  It was a tight fit over her head, but it fell down
nicely around her neck.  I gathered up her hair to pull it through from
under the chain.

"It's perfect," I said.

When I'd put the chain on Sam, I watched her eyes following my
bracelets.  She reached out and touched one, felt its weight.  Solid
steel, the feelings that they brought to me, bewitching, in a way.  She
told me that she liked them.

I got the truck moving and pulled out onto the street.  It was only ten
minutes to the club, the street busy with people and cars since there
was a lot of bars and dance clubs in that area.  I pulled into a
parking lot, paid the man, and we walked up to the club.  It was just
like I remembered it.

My wife and I used to come here a few times a year.  We always had a
swell time, met many interesting people, and made a few good friends.
Friends I had not seen since, then.  Inside I recognised a few faces,
talked to a few people.  Introduced Sam.  She was a bit nervous at
first, but after being warmly greeted by my acquaintances I could see
her grow more at ease.  Her jewellery sparkled in the dimly lit bar, as
did that of everyone else.  Not quite jewellery, some of it.  Chains,
buckles on ever more bizarre costumes, harnesses.  A good crowd, that
night.

I watched Sam stare in wonder, or awe, at two lovely ladies, decked out
in most intricate harnesses.  The two girls were beautiful indeed,
twins, no less, and to make sure they didn't loose each other they were
handcuffed together.  They both wore wide leather collars.  Attached to
each was a thin chain lead.  I tore my eyes from the girls to follow
the chains to the hand holding on to the ends.  The man's other black
leather gloved hand was extended towards me.  I shook it.

"Mike!  How the hell are you?"

"Long time no see, Jim," said Mike.  "And who's this darling creature?"
he asked, turning to Samantha.

I introduced Sam to Mike, a guy I'd known since high school.  Captain
of the football team, student union president, all around good guy.  I
felt it was unnecessary to mention he was a Dominant; the two girls
with him had knelt by his side as we spoke.

"Let's go find a table," he said.

His two subs stood and we went to Mike's table near the stage.  Mike
was a regular here, often providing some of the nightly entertainment.
In deference, I thought, to Samantha's newness to the scene, he allowed
his girls chairs to sit around our table.

"Lisa and Liselle," he introduced his lovely girls.  "Found them when I
was in Germany last year."

The two looked to their master for permission.  I saw Mike nod.

"Pleased to meet you, Sir, Madam," they said in unison, the accent
touchingly charming.  The girls briefly shook Samantha's hand, the
handcuffs jangling.  They didn't shake mine; I didn't offer it.
Certain complex rules had to be honoured, amongst them, no touching
another Dom's sub unless explicitly offered.  The club had rules too,
mostly to keep things legit, and for the patrons' safety.  Sam could
get away with it since it was understood that she was my sub, therefore
the three girls at the table were as equals.

A bottle of white wine magically appeared on the table.  A tray of
glasses was brought over.  The twins poured and served, with grace.
Mike raised his glass in my direction.

"A toast," he said.  "To Jim Bradson.  Good to see you back."

He turned to Sam.  "And with a lovely lady.  He'll do right by you,
darling."

Sam and I listened to Mike describe his latest adventures.  As usual,
it was far from boring.  Mike had always lived life to the fullest.
Not taking, he was kind hearted to a fault, but seizing the moment,
making it his.  Shaking passions from the simplest things.  He asked
what I've been up to.

I thought for a moment.  I shook my head.  "Not a damn thing, Mike.
Work, sleep, exist."  I turned to Samantha, took her hand in mine.  "It
took this fine young lady to wake me up, to make me see again."  I
pulled her close, hugged her tight.  We locked eyes, then lips, in a
long smooch.

"Oh ya!  That's the way," exclaimed Mike.

He could see it; see it in the way we embraced, in our eyes.  I knew it
too, that Samantha and I were meant for each other.  Corny, I know, but
destined to find each other.  I hooked my fingers in the chain around
her neck, pulled gently, possessively.  We broke the kiss.  Sam sighed
softly as I held her head, her chain, stroked her hair.

Another bottle of wine was brought.  Sam needed to use the bathroom so
I went with her.  After she came out, we walked around a bit in the
club, looked in on the other rooms.  Women, and men, some chained to
the walls, to various pieces of equipment.  Being spanked lovingly by
their masters or mistresses.  No sex.  One of the club rules.  No
genital nudity, but bare breasts were allowed.  No blood letting, no
water sports.  The bondage was mostly symbolic, the spanking too.  The
real deal takes place later, in privacy, at home.  After a while we
returned to Mike's table.  His two girls were gone.

"Where's Lisa and Liselle?" I asked.

With a flourish of his arm, Mike said, "It's Show Time!"

As if that was the cue, which knowing Mike it probably was, the lights
on the stage flared to brightness.  Over the speakers, the voice of the
announcer boomed out.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen.  Catacombs is proud to present:
Mistress Natasha."

Oh-oh.  Mistress Natasha.  Kate, as I knew her, stepped out on the
stage with a purpose.  In her hand were two chain leashes; on the other
ends were Lisa and Liselle, still handcuffed together.  A roar went up
from the crowd.  The bar was packed now, people streaming in from the
other rooms, standing room only.  Mistress handed the leashes to
another man dressed in, black, naturally.  A solid looking bar was
lowered from the roof.  Padded cuffs dangled.  The man led the twins to
the bar, attached the four cuffs around four wrists.  Then, from off
stage, the bar was raised until the two girls heels were just touching
the floor, their bodies stretched alluringly.  Kate looked stunning in
an all red-coloured outfit, silver accents gleaming in the stage
lights.  A wicked black whip hung coiled on her belt.  She stood tall,
arms folded across her chest, waiting while the twins were readied for
her.

It was when Susan first expressed an interest in being whipped that I
was set up with Kate.  I tried spanking Sue, tried a whip on her.  But
it never felt right.  I didn't want to hurt her.  I talked about it
with Mike.

"No problem," he said.  "I know a lady who does it for a living.  Makes
good money with it, has her own dungeon and everything.  You go see
her; she'll show you how.  Let you have a taste, so you know how it
feels."

I talked about it with Sue.  "Great idea," she said.

Yeah, right.

Next day I was knocking on Kate's door, a bungalow on a quiet suburban
street.  She led me downstairs.  Showed me how.  Gave me more than a
taste.  I couldn't sit properly for a week.  But I found out what I
needed to know.  It had hurt, sure, but I did see, I began to
understand the attraction.  My face must have turned as red as my butt
when Kate pointed it out, after she'd finished with me.  I hadn't even
realised it myself.  My cock, standing proud, as hard as a rock.

On the stage now, Kate uncoiled the whip.  She stepped up to the two
girls, their harnesses removed, skimpy leather thong bottoms keeping it
legal.  The show began.  Mistress Natasha slashed at the two writhing
beauties, not all that hard, not like she'd done me, but putting on a
good show nonetheless.  The marks appearing on the twins' bodies were
real.  As were their reactions to it.  Samantha was squeezing my hand
so hard I felt the bones grating together.  I moved my chair closer to
her, put my arm around her.  She'd tremble at each blow of the whip.  I
held her tighter, and with my free hand I stroked her breasts through
her slippery top.  Her nipples were two hard pebbles pushing against
the material.

Samantha's eyes were wide, fixed on the scene upon the stage.  She was
squirming on her seat now, flexing her thighs.  I stroked her nipple,
gave it a little pinch.  She began to make little noises.  She was
close to cumming, I realised.  I whispered in her ear.

"Your turn, tomorrow night, Samantha."

Sam went tense.  Her eyelids lowered.  She began to cum, letting out a
low throaty growl as she started to shake and grind her bottom against
her chair while I tweaked and rubbed her nipples.  Mike looked over at
us, at Samantha.  I saw his grin spread as he realised what was
happening to Sam.  He chuckled.

Kate finished the show with a flurry of lashes to both girls, striking
them hard, making them scream and twist.  Red tracks marked them from
shoulders to knees, on their backs, and a few in front where the whip
had curled around their bodies.  As suddenly as it began, she stopped,
the girls writhing and moaning loudly.  The crowd went wild, roaring
its approval as the bar was lowered a bit and the two girls were
released.  They were led off stage by Mistress Kate.

Perhaps ten minutes later Kate returned the twins to Mike's care, still
handcuffed together but wearing soft cotton robes.  One shoulder was
bare, the arm with the handcuff.  The robes tied closed along one side.
The two girls, foregoing their chairs, preferred to kneel beside Mike.
Kate came over to sit beside me.  She gave me a little kiss on the
cheek, smiled at Sam.

"Jim, you old dog, I haven't seen you in ages," she said.  "How have
you been?"

"I've been OK, Kate.  Keeping busy."

"So I see.  Who's this pretty thing?" she asked.

I introduced Samantha, told Kate we'd just met last weekend.

"Mmmm," Kate actually purred with delight.  "Bring her around some time
Jim.  I'd love to see more of her."

I had to laugh.  "I may just do that, Kate."

Sam looked at me with wide eyes.  I couldn't tell if it was fear, or
expectation.  I chuckled wickedly to her.

"Or I might just keep her at home, chained to my bed."

"Jim," Mistress Natasha said, "For this one, I'd make a house call."

We all laughed, even the twins.  Kate had to leave; she had an
appointment booked, she said.  Mike caught my eye, motioned to the bar.
I told Sam to wait; I'd be right back.  Mike and I stood, walked over
to the bar where he ordered us drinks, me asking for a coffee since I
would be driving.  We stood at the bar and chatted for a while.  Mike
asked me about Sam, and I told him how I'd answered her ad and she was
the result.

"Wow!" he said, "That's great.  I thought those things were for losers,
but she's a real knockout."

"Well, she knew what she wanted but she had a couple of bad
experiences," I said.  "I guess she figured it would be a safe way to
meet someone, people like us."

"Ya, I guess it would," Mike agreed.

While we were talking, I kept looking over at our table, at the lovely
ladies there.  Sam had moved over and was talking with the twins.
Liselle, or was it Lisa, lifted the other's robe a bit and Sam starred
intently at the girl's whip marks.

"Check it out," I nodded towards the table.  Mike turned to look.
Samantha traced one of the red marks with her fingertip.  The twins
held each other.  The three talked, no doubt about the nature of the
conversation.  I said to Mike that I thought his girls were lovely.

"Fuck, Jim," he said, "those two are the best.  Hot?  You can't imagine
how much.  They'll kill me in a year or two, but I'll die with a stiff
prick and a smile on my face.  Then when I'm gone, they'll just do each
other."

"No way."

"Way, dude.  After they finish with me, they get it on with themselves.
I sit back and watch.  Yup, those two are keepers, for sure.  One night
they started spanking each other, each trying to make the other cum
first.  Fucking near blew my mind, watching them go at it."

The girl's talk had ended and I motioned that we should get back.  It
felt late as I sat beside Sam again.  I said that we should go.  Sam
said yes, so we stood and said our goodbyes.  Mike told me not to be a
stranger, and I said I'd see him again soon.  The evening had
strengthened my resolve to pull myself from the shell I'd built up
around me since the death of Susan.  If Sam was to be a part of my life
now, so much the better.

I held Sam close as we left the club and walked to the car.  She was
quiet as I drove back to her place, lost in thought.  When we got to
her place, she asked me if I could come up for coffee.

"Well, it's late," I said.  It was well past midnight.

"Please?" she asked and I said, "OK."

She lived on the seventh floor, a nice one bedroom with a view of the
lake, sort of.  The first thing I noticed was a big tank of fish, four
plain goldfish, but the setup complemented the room nicely.  The
apartment had a kind of cozy cottage decor, nothing expensive or
elaborate.  Comfortable.  I kicked off my shoes.  Sam put the kettle
on, then came to sit beside me.  She didn't say anything at first.

I broke the ice.

"Did you enjoy the club?" I asked.

"Yes, Jim," she began, "I did.  While you were off with Mike, I spoke
with Lisa and Liselle."

"I watched you."

Sam went on.  "I asked them about the whipping.  I expected them to
tell me about how much pain they were in, but you know?  All they
talked about was how much they enjoyed it.  They said they were a
little disappointed it didn't go on longer, that it wasn't hard enough
for them."

"Kate's the best.  She knew what she was doing."

Sam smiled.  "Your friend Mike is going to have fun tonight.  The girls
were primed."

I chuckled softly.

Sam heard the kettle boil and stood up.  I told her tea would be fine.
In a moment, she returned carrying a tray with the teapot and two cups.
She sat beside me once more.  She was quiet again.  After a few
minutes, she poured the tea, then settled into the couch, nestled close
to me.  She spoke.

"I don't know if I can do this.  I had a picture of it in my mind, of
how it would be.  But seeing it for real, on that stage tonight, I'm
not so sure now."

"You don't know, Sam.  No one knows, their first time.  There's only
one way to find out if that kind of thing is right for you.  You have
to feel it.  You have to experience that kind of pain to understand if
it's something you can derive any pleasure from.  Kate told me this
once, that everyone is different.  Some people like to be tied down
while they are beaten; others enjoy expressing their self-discipline by
submitting freely to the lash.  A spanking with a bare hand, a paddle,
the whip, each a distinctly different feeling.  Maybe you'll find no
pleasure in any of it, and that's fine too.  But then, at least, you
will know and understand what it's all about."

I told Samantha how I couldn't understand it at first.  How such pain
could be transformed into any kind of pleasure.  But I had allowed Kate
to show me, let me feel it.  And after, I knew it was not something I
would seek, but at least I understood it better.

"You let Kate whip you?"

"When I was younger, first married to Susan, yes.  I had to learn how
to do it right.  I had to understand why Sue wanted me to hit her.  And
after, I did.  It was the night after, the marks on me, the pain, still
fresh in my mind.  Susan used to talk about that first time, how it was
the best night of her life.  A kind of an awakening in the both of us."

I sipped my tea, stroking Sam's head soothingly.

"Tomorrow night, Sam.  I'll pick you up around six.  Dinner, and
then..."

Sam thought a bit, then said, "OK."

"Just remember," I said, "I want this to be good for you.  Any time you
want to stop or need me to go slower, I will."

I stood to go.  At the door, I held Sam close, gave her a kiss which
she returned with a surprising passion.  When we finished, I opened her
door and left.  Leaving her apartment was difficult to do.  I would
have loved to stay and fuck her brains out; I felt that she wanted me
to.  But she was to take an important step the next night, and I wanted
her to be ready for it.  If this worked out as I hoped it would, there
would be plenty of fucking later.

Friday morning, I handled a minor crisis at the hospital with my usual
efficient aplomb and called Sam around three-thirty to tell her I'd
pick her up at five.  When I pulled up in front of her building, I saw
her waiting for me in the lobby.  She ran, smiling widely, to the truck
and climbed in.  She leaned over and gave me a huge kiss before we set
off.  I drove to a restaurant nearby where we had a light supper.
After, we went back to my place.

As I got closer to home, I could sense Sam's unease building.  However,
my chat with Mike last night had been just what I needed to firm my
resolve.  I knew that I would have to take the upper hand with Sam;
that was what she expected and also what she wanted.  I'd gone over
this scene in my mind several times the past week.  All I had to do was
follow the script and guide her through it, ad-libbing where necessary,
but hopefully it would all play out satisfactorily.  I'd set the stage
this morning, laid out the props.  Now, the actors had arrived.

I drove up my drive and parked in front of the house.  We got out and I
moved up to Samantha.  I took her arms to look into her eyes.

"You're sure about this?" I asked her.

She looked down.  "I'm not going to back out now."

She looked up again.  "Yes.  I want this.  Sir."

I opened the door to the Jeep.  "Take off all your clothes, put them on
the seat."

Sam looked at me.  She looked around her.  There was no one around for
a mile.  Even from the road, the way I'd parked the truck, no one
passing by would see anything.  I saw it in her eyes before her hands
moved, that she would do it.  Slowly at first, she began to remove her
dress.  I almost laughed out loud, stifling it with effort, as I saw
she had on a silky slip underneath, slippery smoothness to later caress
her soon to be tortured bum.  Sam took off all her clothing, even her
shoes, and placed them on the seat of the Jeep.  When she stepped away,
I reached in and clicked the locks, then slammed the door closed.  Sam
stood naked in my front yard, shivering slightly but not from cold.
Trembling with barely suppressed excitement.

"Let's go," I said.

I walked up to the front door, Sam following meekly behind.  I turned
the key in the lock and entered.  The cuffs on the small table inside
the door gleamed in the light, black leather, shiny silver accents.  I
took Sam and firmly pushed her against the wall.  I applied the cuffs
to her limbs, two for her wrists, two for her ankles, closing the
buckles and using four small brass padlocks to secure them on her.  I
took the bigger lock, pulled the key, and pocketed it.  Then I turned
her around and moved her hands behind her back.  Slipping the lock in
the two rings on the cuffs, I clicked it closed.

I spent a few moments smoothing her hair over her arms and molesting
her tits.  I took her head in my hands, pressed her up against the
wall, her hard nipples against my chest, and I kissed her passionately.
When I moved away she swayed slightly, then opened her eyes.

"Let's go," I said.

In the kitchen, I had her sit down.  On the table before her were two
locks and a short piece of bright chain, which I used to hobble her.  I
took her arm to bring her to her feet, and then I guided her to the
basement door.  The chain between her ankles was short, I knew, and she
had a little trouble on the stairs.  I held her arm on the way down, in
case she stumbled, but she didn't.

There was a door to the rec room that I hardly ever closed.  I'd
installed it, salvaged from an old house nearby that had been
demolished.  Heavy, oak I thought.  Dark lacquer finish.  The sort of
door to, perhaps, A Dungeon?  At the bottom of the stairs, I rattled
the knob, then shouldered the door aside, banging it heavily on the
stop inside the room.  The hinges even creaked a bit.  I heard Sam's
gasp from behind me as I strode into the room.

I snapped on the lights.  I'd turned all the track lights towards the
centre of the room, to the coffee table there.  On the couch, a blanket
and a pile of white nylon rope.  Taking up the folded blanket, I draped
it on the top of the coffee table, forming a soft padded surface for my
captive.  I turned to Samantha, who was still standing shell shocked in
the doorway.

"Come here."

Sam shuffled slowly towards where I stood.  When she reached me, I
turned her around and unlocked her hands.  I bent down to remove the
chain from between her ankles.  Then I guided her to lay face down on
top of the low table.  Her head was facing the bar and when she looked
up, I heard her gasp again.  The front of the bar was finished with
mirror tiles, patterned in a gold leafy design.  I glanced and saw
Samantha's reflection, a worried, slightly scared look on her face, the
hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

The coffee table was a solid, rather ugly looking thing I'd found at a
flea market one day.  Something one wouldn't look twice at, a place to
put your beer, rest your feet on.  Suitable for a cottage, or a rec
room, perfect for what I had in mind.  Susan always enjoyed her
sessions on the table.  After I'd lugged the thing home and downstairs,
I had made a few modifications.  Four one-inch holes bored along the
thick rails underneath the top, along each side.  If one looked
underneath you would find a curious looking bracket mounted in the
centre of the top with a hole through it.  After I'd refinished the
table, my modifications blended into the utilitarian look of the thing
nicely.

I picked up the length of rope and began to tie Sam down to the top of
the table.  I threaded one end through the ring on her wrist cuff,
passed it through a hole in the table's side, underneath to the other
side.  Through a hole there and her other cuff ring, then under, to the
centre.  I put both ends of the rope through the centre bracket, pulled
them even, and then moved to the rear.  I did basically the same thing
to the cuffs on her ankles, pulling until her feet left the floor to
become held fast at the sides of the tabletop.  Then I threaded the two
ends of the rope back through the centre bracket and, pulling up all
the slack, I tied a simple slipknot.  Samantha watched everything in
the mirrored surface before her.

Her thighs were spread apart, knees bent, and her feet, held by the
cuffs, the soles facing up, were even with the top at one end.  Her
hands were pinned at the sides, near her waist, about at the centre
point of the table.  I went behind the bar, opened the fridge, and got
myself a beer.  I cracked it open, then sat on the couch to watch Sam
struggle.

I knew, and she discovered, that she could raise herself up off the
table a few inches, but I knew, and she discovered that with her arms
and legs spread like they were, it was a strain to hold that position
for long.  She slumped back down.  She could slide herself up and down
a few inches, which she tried.  She found that if she stretched far
enough, she could get her head off the end of the table to look
underneath and see the rope tied in the centre, the ends dangling
tantalizingly.  One tug and she would be free.  But unless she grew
another arm, she would remain good and stuck, tied to the top of the
table.

With her thighs spread, she could get no pressure against her pussy.
When she slid herself on the freshly waxed tabletop, the blanket under
her body slid with her, allowing no friction against her nipples.  She
turned her head to look at me.  I drank my beer.

After a while, I moved closer and began to lovingly stroke her back and
bum with my hands.  Sam returned her gaze to the mirror, watching
herself, and me, as I worked my hands up and down her lovely back.
Within her strict bondage, she was already hot.  Now, as I touched her,
she started to arch her back, trying to grind her pussy into the
blanket.  I felt the muscles in her thighs straining as she fought to
force some pressure against her clit, but it was no good and she fell
back down, moaning softly with her need.  I traced one finger through
her slit, between her labia rings, and she jumped.

I stood up, drained my beer, then went to the bar and put the empty
away.  On the bar was a tiny brass padlock that I'd picked up earlier
in the week.  I held it low so Sam could see it.  I opened it, then
withdrew the keys and placed them on the bar.  At first, Sam didn't get
it.  Then her eyes got wide and I knew that she knew where that lock
was going to go.  I knelt down beside her and touched her there once
more.  Then I passed the lock through her two labia rings and carefully
clicked it closed.

I'd filed off all the edges of the lock, polished it smooth.  It wasn't
so heavy, but in such a sensitive place, I'm sure Sam would know it was
there.  Wonder of wonders, it pulled her rings down a bit, the body of
the lock resting right against her clit.  Sam wiggled her bum a bit,
 wiggled it again.  I sat back down on the couch to watch.  As much as
her bondage allowed, and that wasn't much, Sam started bucking and
wriggling as the little lock banged and rubbed against her clitty.  She
started to shift her ass around, putting on a highly erotic display as
she tried to get off on the lock rubbing her.  But with the position
she was in, combined with the little lock swinging wildly around in her
crotch, she just couldn't orchestrate the motions enough to push
herself over the edge.

The wild gyrations of her shiny rings and the lock, silver and gold
flashing in the lights, held me hypnotized for perhaps ten minutes
while Sam thrashed on the table before me.  Finally, she gave it up to
lie, panting in unsatisfied heat, staring at her reflection in the
mirror, sobbing slightly with frustration.  I guess the sight of
herself, so close to release, so helpless, would drive her to attempt
to get herself off once more and she would start to move and then
thrash wildly in attempt to get enough stimulation to finish, but would
soon slump back down, the orgasm she so desperately craved close, but
still too far.

I stood up.  It was time to get the whip.  I went to the back of the
room and picked up the wooden box from a table there, then returned to
Samantha with it.  I held the box to her face while she tried to focus
her eyes on the back panel.  The carving on the back, my favourite for
some strange reason, depicted a girl bound face up on an altar of some
kind.  The drawing I'd chosen for that panel was that of the classic
virgin sacrifice, the stone altar, the naked girl shackled to it at
wrists and ankles.  The shrouded priest in the background, the knife
held high.  After Sam had gasped and moaned, I set the box down on the
floor by the mirrored front of the bar.  I left the lid open, the box
positioned in such a way that Sam could see every side, either directly
or in the mirror.  From it, I picked out the flogger.

Before her wide eyes I shook out the supple strands, letting her get a
good whiff of freshly oiled leather.  She tilted up her head and we
locked eyes for a brief moment.  I didn't say anything.  She did not
either, just returned her gaze to the mirror in front of her.  I moved
to her side, took my position.  Sam tensed as I brought the whip back,
and then made it crash down on her beautiful, unblemished behind.  I
put a fair amount of force into that first stroke.

Samantha let out a little "Oh!" and closed her eyes for a moment.  I
paused until she opened her eyes again, then let fly another.  I didn't
wait for the next one, I started slashing her once about every three
seconds or so, a nice easy rhythm.  Her body would jerk each time and I
noticed the lock on her labia rings jump and smack down on her clit.  A
nice bonus, I thought, as I hit her again across the bum.

I began to place my strokes upwards, softer at her lower back, where
the kidneys are, but more firmly higher up.  This flogger was not as
wicked as some I'd seen; Sue enjoyed it as a warm up to something more
serious.  But for a first time it was quite suitable; nice feel to it,
good balance.  Oh, on the other end, the pain, not really sharp or too
stingy, more like exquisite.

Sam's body grew tense, and she strained against her bonds, but not from
expectation of the next blow.  I saw a small spurt of girl cum shoot
from her cunt and I smiled widely.  She'd had her first little orgasm
of the evening.  I gave her two softer, quick strokes, on each side of
her, the strands finding the sides of her breasts an inviting target.
She shook and moaned loud as her orgasm peaked, then began to decline.

I paused for just a moment to give her time to settle, then I
continued.  I began again on her bum, then slowly started to work my
way downward.  Her thighs, stretched slightly by her position on the
table, received several well-placed blows, the strands finding their
way around those lovely limbs.  Once, I slightly misplaced a blow and
one of the strands flicked against the lock at her opening.  A gentle
kiss that bounced the lock against her clit.  Her legs spasmed, driving
her body forwards a little.  Sam moaned low and loud.  I switched to a
flurry of blows to the soles of her upturned feet.  Her moan changed to
a higher pitched wail and another gush of clear liquid practically
sprayed from her cunt, drowning her rings and the lock, wetting her
legs and soaking the blanket under her.  She shook and writhed, trying
to escape the pain at her feet while she screamed loud.

I stopped.  Sam was still cumming hard as I lay my hand in her crotch
and stroked her there.  The sudden change of sensation brought her down
with a bang and she lay panting and exhausted on the table while I
gently stroked her burning hot pussy.  Her skin had an all over pink
glow where the whip had landed, with several spots of reddish
highlights.

Samantha had yelled and screamed a lot during the session but had not
once asked me to stop.  Feelings of pride began to well up in me, pride
in her, in the way she'd handled it.  I reached under the table and
pulled the rope, holding the ends to gently lower her feet to the
floor.  I pulled on the rope in front to draw it out and away, freeing
Sam completely.  Her eyes flickered open to stare up into mine.  I
smiled.

"Lay still," I told her, "I'll get something."

From the bar, I got a bottle of witch hazel lotion, which I gently
rubbed into Sam's skin wherever it was pink and red.  I applied some to
the bottoms of her feet where I'd whipped her, lovingly massaging it
into her tortured flesh.  After I'd finished, the lotion helped to
sooth her pain and she was smiling once more.  I helped her off the
table to stand gingerly while I kissed her passionately.  Before we
left the room, I snatched the keys to her pussy lock from the bar.  I
was going to need them later.

Upstairs I found her a soft cushion so she could sit at the table while
I made us some tea.  While the water heated, I sat with her.  I held
her hand, waited for her to speak.  It wasn't long.

"That was nice," she said, "Not like I expected it to be."

"Are you sore?" I asked.

"A little," she answered.  "That stuff you used helped.  Thanks."

"Thanks?"

"For showing me, for being so nice about it.  I know you could have hit
me harder.  Maybe next time we could try it, harder I mean."

"So you want to do this again sometime."

Sam looked up at me, a huge grin on her face.  "Yes, I would like
that."

Here was this beautiful woman, sitting naked in my kitchen except for
the leather cuffs locked around her wrists and ankles, telling me that
she would like me to whip her again.  Harder.  What a rush.

"Sam," I said, "you handled it very well.  I'm pleased that everything
went so nicely and I will be happy to take things farther next time, if
that's what you want."

"Thank you, Master."

I made the tea, found some biscuits, and carried it all on a tray to
the bedroom.  As Sam walked, I could hear the little lock between her
legs clinking against her rings.  We had tea in bed while I rubbed more
of the soothing lotion on her whip marks, then we just lay naked
together and cuddled for a long while.  Sam took my throbbing cock to
rub it against her, against her locked pussy.  Finally, I took the keys
to open her little lock and we screwed each other's brains out for the
rest of the evening.

Later on, I used the chain to lock Samantha's foot to the bed, and she
slept like that, the four cuffs still locked on her as well.  In the
morning, I woke to find her snuggled up close to me.  I moved my hand
down to push between her thighs and found the little lock attached to
her rings again.  I'd left it on the table by the bed last night; Sam
must have woken during the night and put it on herself.  When I asked
her, I found out that is what she had done.  I opened the small lock,
then used a bigger one to attach her wrist cuffs to the headboard and
we made sweet love again, her arms stretched over her head, her chained
foot straining to reach me.

We showered, had breakfast, and lazed around the house.  Went out for
lunch.  In the afternoon I let her have a taste of the wood paddle on
her bum while she lay across the bed kicking and writhing with each
blow.  She didn't enjoy it all that much, she told me.  Stung too much.
I cooked some steaks on the barbie and we dined outside.  She slept
Saturday night with her hands behind her back, locked in the cuffs.
Woke up stiff and sore, but said she liked the feeling of being
helpless all night, and we fucked once more.  In the afternoon, I drove
her back home.

Samantha asked me to drive around to the rear of her building.  When we
stopped, she held out her hand.  In it were the little lock and the two
keys.  Sam pulled my key ring from the ignition and attached the keys
for the lock onto it, then gave them back to me.  Then I watched her
reach under her dress and, by feel, attach her two rings together with
the little lock.  I heard it click shut.  Sam held her dress up while I
put my hand there to feel.

"See you next week, master?" she asked.

"You bet," I said.  "I'll call you tonight."

I watched the pretty girl with the long hair cross the parking lot and
enter her building.  When I got home, I took off one of the little keys
and put it in a safe place.

Now, every time I see my key ring, I lovingly finger that small key and
can't help but think of the precious treasure that it opens.

[end chapter 1, The Ad.]		  dino@canoemail.com

The Ad:  Chapter 2		(C) Dino  March 2000

On a whim, I had replied to one of those people connection ads in the
back of the newspaper and the lovely Samantha had been the result.
From our first meeting in the shopping mall that fateful Saturday
afternoon, it became increasingly evident that we were both eminently
suited for each other.  After a weekend of sex so passionate it makes
my head spin each time I think about it, we discovered that we had more
in common than could ever have been hoped for.  During that first week,
after introducing Sam to some of my old friends at a nightclub, I made
a vow to myself that I would try my hardest to make this girl mine.

That following weekend marked a turning point in our relationship.  I
gave that pretty girl with the long brown hair what she had been
seeking, as she told me on the phone afterwards, for all of her twenty-
three years.  I had tied her down to the heavy coffee table in my
basement rec room, and had stroked her back and bum with the flogger
over and over until she exploded in a most erotic display of pent up
lust.  After it was over, we had made such tender, sweet love up in my
bed, and that was when I knew that she was mine.

I'd called her again on Monday night and we chatted until late into the
night.  Sam had told me after that first whipping that she thought she
could have taken more, that she might like to try it harder.  I'd gone
somewhat easy on her, that being her first real time under the lash.
She said that she had been scared at first, afraid of the unknown, but
she told me that I'd been firm with her, taking the lead on that time,
and she felt able to give herself over to me, trusting that I would
bring her no harm.

I asked her how her pussy was.  When I dropped her off at her place
last Sunday afternoon, she had put my little lock through her two labia
rings and locked it closed, then had given the keys to me.

"God, Jim," she said, "Every time I sit down, it presses right on my
clitty.  If I move, it rubs me, if I wear panties, it presses me there.
If I go without underwear and I walk around, the lock swings around in
there, and pulls and tugs on me.  I could hardly stand it at work
today.  As soon as I got home, I took off all my clothes.  Then I stood
in front of the mirror, I spread my legs, and I just stared."  Her
voice got all soft while my dick began to rage.  "I put my hand down
there and touched the lock, pulled on it a bit.  Then I went to my bed
and lay down.  I got out my vibrator and tried to put it in, but the
lock was in the way.  I tried to push it in past my rings, but I
couldn't."

I had to reach inside my shorts and move something around.  If this was
phone sex, it wasn't half bad.  I listened to Sam's sweet voice.

"The vibrator was making a loud noise buzzing against the lock.  I
couldn't manage to get it inside me with it locked closed like this.  I
pushed the vibrator in between from the top so my lips held it against
me and the middle of it was pressing right on my clit.  When I took
away my hand, it stayed there pressed to me with the lock rattling on
the top and I thought about you having the keys at your place.  I began
to cum, Jim.  It went on for a long time."

"Mmmmm," was all I could manage for a while, then I asked, "So your
pussy lock doesn't bother you too much?"

Sam missed the witticism.  "I think I could get used to it," she said.

After chatting a bit more, reluctantly we said our goodbyes.  I could
hardly get to sleep, thinking of her luscious pussy locked shut with my
little brass lock.  An evil idea began to take shape.  In two weeks, it
would be a long weekend.  Sam had told me she liked camping, and so did
I.  A plan formed in my mind just before I drifted off to sleep that
night.

I called Samantha the next morning and caught her before she left for
work.  I asked her if she would like to go on a camping trip on the
long weekend.  The holiday would be Monday.

"I don't have to work Friday," she said, "it's my day off.  We could
have four days."

"Great," I told her.  "I'll call and see if I can book a spot."

The big park I like to go to is quite busy during the summer, and
usually you have to reserve a site well in advance, the nicer spots at
least.  On a long weekend the place would be packed.  When I called the
number, I hit a stroke of luck; there had been a cancellation in a
campground that was one of my favourites.  Looking at a map of the
place, the site they had open backed onto the lake.  A double bonus.  I
booked the site for four days.  I called Sam that evening and told her.
We talked for a while, but I began to sense there might be something
wrong.  She seemed preoccupied with something and it was not sex.
Later on in the evening, she called me back.

"Hi Sam," I said.  "Everything all right?"

There was a pause, then she said, "No.  I've got my period four days
early."

At first I thought, good.  Better now then on our trip.  Then it hit
me.  The lock.  Ick!

"I'll be there soon," I said.

"Oh Jim," she started, "You don't have to come all this way.  I'll
manage."

"I'll see you in a half hour," I said.  "Put the kettle on."

Twenty-five minutes later, I was in the lobby of her building.  Sam
buzzed me up.  She greeted me at her door with a warm hug and I was
once more in heaven with my sweet Samantha in my arms.  When we broke
apart, I handed her my keys and she disappeared into the bathroom while
I poured myself a cup of tea.  Sam came back several minutes later
wearing a terry bathrobe and looking more radiant.  I poured her a tea
as she sat down beside me.  She handed me my keys and the little lock,
still a bit wet, washed off.

"Feel better now?" I asked.

"Thank you, master," she said as she snuggled close to me.  I gently
stroked her head as we sipped the tea.  Her robe had slipped open a
bit, giving me a nice view of her luscious tits and right down to her
belly button.  I set my cup down, then slipped my hand inside to cup a
firm breast and rub her nipple with my thumb, feeling it harden under
my touch.  Sam bent forward to place her teacup on the table, then she
slid down to kneel on the floor by my feet.  I watched as she slipped
open her robe and then moved her hands behind her, presenting herself
before me.  She had panties on, a pad inside, the bulge visible at her
crotch.  My pants had an obvious bulge too.

Samantha spoke.  "How may this low one please Master?"

I smiled.  I'd read of this, the referring to oneself in the third
person.  But having it dropped on me in such an inviting way gave me
pause.

"Lead me to your bedchamber, girl," I commanded.

Sam giggled and stood up.  Taking my hand in hers, she led me to her
bedroom.  A small lamp in the corner illuminated your standard girl's
room, pink curtains over the windows, a soothing green and yellow
general decor.  On the walls were hung many paintings and drawings,
hers I assumed.  Over the bed was a huge watercolour, looking like an
old English or a medieval village scene.  My eyes were drawn from one
piece to another as I looked around her room.

"Sam, put the light on please," I said.

Samantha moved to the wall switch and turned on the ceiling light, then
came to me again.  The images before me sprang to life.  Her works had
a definite gothic theme to them; dragons, unicorns, castles.  Nude
women, often in some peril or helplessness.  A girl with tender wings,
held in the palm of a giant hand.  Two unicorns, one, the male I
assumed, standing proud on a hill top, the female on a lower cliff, the
valley between them done in greens and browns.  Two paintings together.
One, a dragon with his back to the viewer, strong and mighty.  The
second, that of a girl dragon?  Soft, not a scary dragon at all but,
almost erotic in its pose.

I drew in a breath as my eyes settled on a sculpture on Sam's bureau.
The piece, painted clay, stood perhaps eighteen inches tall.  A ruin of
a castle perched on a cliff overlooking a lake or a sea.  A dragon
curled around the base of the piece, protectively hugging the cliff
side.  One window high up on a tower was painted yellow to indicate
occupancy, a candlelight.  The vague silhouette of a girl with long
hair in the window, looking out.  The work, the detail, was stunning.
The painting over the bed drew me once more.  I knelt on Sam's bed to
see closer.  Sam sat down beside me and began to unbutton my shirt as I
studied the painting.  The thing that drew me to this room first, sex,
now forgotten.

At first glance, and even after a good look, it seemed like your normal
village life in ancient times piece.  But there, at the side of the
village square, partly hidden by a bush, a girl naked and locked in
stocks.  Her hands and head imprisoned by the rough looking wood, and
three boys throwing red things, rotten tomatoes it appeared to be, at
her.  The girl's face was covered by the fruit.  Her hair, long and
brown, touched the ground.

Near the stables, the blacksmith worked on something.  Just behind the
anvil, you could see it.  Round it was, a shackle attached to a chain.
Sparks seemed to fly out as the man forged the other red-hot ring of
steel.

"Samantha?" I said.

"Yes?" her small voice replied.

In the stalls of the stable.  Four horses and one.  I peered close.  It
was.  Standing behind the man grooming her, a pony girl.  Her long
chestnut mane hung almost to the girl's knees.

"Samantha?" I said.

"Yes?"

I pointed to the stables in the painting.

"What's this?" I asked her.

I turned away from the painting to look at her.  Her eyes were on the
bedspread, her face quite red.

"It's a pony girl," she said in a soft voice.  "I read a story once
about that sort of thing."

I tilted her face up to me.  I was smiling.

"I've read some of those kinds of stories too," I said.  "Your work is
stunning, Sam.  Absolutely beautiful."

She began to smile again.  "You really think so?" she asked.  "Not many
people have seen these things.  I have a few more if you'd like to see
them."

Sam pulled out some drawings from beside the bureau.  Some rough
sketches, some other wonderful images.  One caught my eye and I stared
long at the picture.  Done in pencil, dark and foreboding.  A rugged
shoreline, tall jagged rock.  An iron hook high up in the stone, chains
descending to solid looking shackles around the wrists of a frightened
nude girl.  Her long windswept hair partially obscured her face.  Full
breasts, narrow waist, bare feet on the hard rock.  An ominous shadow
approaching.  I actually jumped like a timid girl when Sam spoke.

"Waiting for the dragon, I call that one."

I shook my head in wonder.  "Fantastic."

"Would you like to keep that one?" she asked me.

Good manners told me I should refuse, or at least pretend to, but I
couldn't.  I had to have that drawing.

"Sam, it's absolutely beautiful.  If you're sure, I would love to have
this one," I said.

Sam gathered up all the drawings from her bed and stood them against
the wall.  She placed the one she was giving me on the bureau facing
the bed.  I saw that all of the marks from her whipping four days ago
had disappeared.  She wore just her panties, and I hadn't noticed when
she had dropped her robe.  When she turned to me, I pulled off my
shirt, then lay back down on her bed.  Sam turned off the bright light,
then crawled across the bed to lay down on top of me.  I felt her firm
breasts against my chest, her hair on my arms, saw her glowing face
inches from mine.

"Thanks, Sam," I said, "for being so adorable."  I kissed her and held
her tight.  We cuddled for a while until I noticed her clock was
telling me it was past midnight and I had a meeting in the morning.
Sadly, I told Sam I had to go.

"Dinner and a movie tomorrow," I asked, "I'll pick you up at five?"

"Dinner here at six," Sam said, "and maybe we'll skip the movie."

I laughed.  "That sounds fine to me."

Samantha said she would make spaghetti, so the next evening I showed up
with a nice bottle of red wine at her doorstep.  I went up to her floor
and found her door open a crack.  I knocked, then walked in, and called
out her name.  I heard her in the kitchen, so I headed there.  Samantha
was leaning seductively against the counter, and she wore what could
best be described as a slave girl outfit.  It was just a simple white
wrap of cloth pinned at the top and held up by her breasts.  Her
shoulders and arms were bare, her feet were too.  Her hair was loose
and spilled down her back, stopping a few inches above the hem of her
garment, which ended about mid thigh.  Her shiny chain belt was around
her waist.

All that alone would have been enough to make my cock jump, but Sam had
on something else that I simply couldn't tear my eyes away from.
Around her wrists, she had two shiny round bracelets connected by a
short piece of chain.  My eyes travelled from one bracelet, down along
the chain, which hung to the hem of her dress, then back up to the
other bracelet.  I moved as in a dream, placing the wine bottle on the
table, then taking one of Sam's hands and raising it to my lips.  I
kissed the back of her hand.

The bracelets were slightly heavy, solid steel.  The sort of thing one
might find in a hardware store.  The chain link was welded to the ring
at each end and polished smooth.  The rings fit close to her wrists and
I saw that they might be hard to get on over her hands.  Or off.  I
took the chain in my hands possessively and looked up into Sam's eyes.

"Does it please master?" Sam asked me.

I was stunned.  "Master is very pleased," I managed.  I lifted the
chain up high, pulling her hands up over her head.  I stroked her
nipples through the thin fabric of her outfit.  Sam closed her eyes and
moaned slightly and I could tell it was not just from my stimulation of
her nipples.  She tilted her head up and looked at her arms, her
bracelets, her shackles, and the chain, held firmly in my grasp.  I
lowered her hands until they were in front of her face, then released
the chain to let it drop.  I stepped away.

"Tell me about these, Sam.  I want to know.  Where did you get them?"

I sat at her table and listened.  Sam said she had bought the rings a
few years ago at a marine supply store.

"I need to use soap to get them on," she said.  "And it sometimes hurts
my hands a bit, but I don't mind.  Last year I got the idea to add the
chain.  I bought a piece, then took it and the bracelets to a shop to
get them welded.  I told the guy it was for my easel, to hold the back
leg together and I tried hard not to show my embarrassment.  I think he
guessed what it was really for."

Sam had knelt at my feet as she talked, and her hands were on my legs.
I felt her chain with my fingers and noticed a bit of wear in the
links.  I have a piece of chain at home, with wear marks like that.  My
wife used to like her feet chained together at night.

"You wear this every night, don't you?" I softly asked her.

Sam looked up.  "Not every night."  Then more quietly, "Most nights,
yes."

A big pot of water was bubbling on the stove, distracting my host.

"Go," I told her.  "Prepare my feast."

Samantha stood and went to the stove.  I watched her as she worked,
holding the chain in one hand so that it wouldn't get in her way.  When
she did let her chain clank on a pot or a plate, she would look at me,
a bit abashed at her clumsiness.  Mostly, she managed as one would when
used to such an encumbrance.  Eventually I stood and, over her
protests, I helped out a bit, setting the table and opening the wine,
cutting the garlic bread.

We soon were seated before a delicious meal.  I poured the wine and
watched Sam raise her glass without dipping her chain in her plate.
After the dinner, Sam put the plates and cutlery in the dishwasher and
I watched her wash out the two pots, her chain rattling around inside
them.  She had a cake for dessert, she told me, but my cock couldn't
wait any longer.  I took her chain in my hand to lead her to her
bedroom.

Samantha took off her chain belt and undid the clip at the top of her
dress.  The material spiralled off her and fell to the floor.  She was
instantly naked, as was I a moment later.  In her current condition, an
important avenue of pleasure was closed off, the white string hanging
from her pussy the only evidence, but there were other ways.  Anal was
hinted at, and I sensed a quiet relief in Sam's expression when I
respectfully declined.  I've tried that street a couple of times
before, but it never seemed to live up to its glowing reputation as
portrayed in stories.  Sam stretched out on top of me, her chain
trapped between our bellies, her hands at her sides.  After a few
minutes, she raised herself up and reached underneath to position my
cock between her legs.

Sam started a slow up and down motion with her hips, stroking my hard
cock against the soft warmth of her pussy.  I shifted her up a bit to
pull her wrist chain up and over her head, bringing her hands up around
her ears, holding the chain at the back of her neck.  Her hands
fluttered uselessly as her hip movements became more energetic and her
breasts pressed hard against my chest.  It didn't take long at all
before I felt her tense, squeezing my cock tightly between her thighs,
and cum, writhing wildly against me, moaning loud in my ear.  I held
her tight as she came down from her orgasm, then I released her chain
to stroke my hands down her back and bum.

Her hands cradled my head gently as she made cooing noises in my ear,
then she lifted herself up to kneel between my legs.  She took my cock
in her hands and began to lovingly stroke it while her chain rattled
upon my tummy.  I watched Sam stare lovingly and hungrily at my cock as
it twitched in her hands.  She bent down to reverently kiss the tip and
we locked eyes for a moment.  "Sweet little one," I murmured as I
scratched her head tenderly.  Sam opened her mouth to take me in,
sliding her lips down my shaft until she hit bottom with the head
lodged in her throat.  I felt her muscles working as she attempted to
swallow me.  I settled back into the pillow and moaned my pleasure.

She began to bob her head up and down on me, slowly at first, sucking
in my length all the way, then letting it slide out, teasingly holding
just the tip between her lips while running her tongue around it.  Then
more urgently, allowing her teeth to gently scrape along me at times,
which felt not painful at all.  I reached down with both hands to hold
her chain in a firm grasp.  My hips began to buck up, trying to get my
entire being into that tiny cavern of pure pleasure.  I could feel it
building from somewhere deep inside me, at my core.  Samantha's mouth
was sending massive shockwaves straight through to my brain.  My body
started to tense as I fought to keep my breathing regular.  In a
panting voice, I informed Sam that I was about to cum.  Quite
unnecessarily, though; it would be obvious to anyone what was about to
happen in another few seconds.

Tingling at the base of my brain started to form substance, began its
journey down my spine, gathering me up with it.  Samantha took me deep
as I started to cum.  I squeezed the chain between her wrists hard,
feeling the strength of the steel that imprisoned the girl's hands.  My
breathing slowed to a deep steady rhythm as my cum burst forth, a white-
hot jet blasting into her.  My legs came up to wrap around her body as
another jet of cum shot into her.  Again my cock pulsed, my mind
completely caught up in rapturous affection for my beautiful Samantha.
Another, weaker shot, and I collapsed into the softness of her bed,
totally spent, my breath coming in ragged gasps.  Sam moved to
disentangle herself from me.  My hands spasmed, releasing her chain,
and she snuggled close to my side to wait for me to return from beyond.

I was floating weightless on a warm sea.  Twilight, the sun just past
the horizon, washing everything in shades of red and gold.  I could
hear the waves crashing on the rocky shore.  I turned my head to look,
focused my eyes on something against a tall rock.  A naked girl, it
seemed; her long windswept hair across her face and the stone.  Her
hands were high over her head.  She was chained to the rock by heavy
looking shackles around her delicate wrists.  She looked up towards the
cliff, and my eyes followed her gaze to a gap in the rocks.  A shadow
moved.  Suddenly, with a mighty roar, the beast appeared.  As she
twisted her hands in the unyielding chains, the girl screamed, a long
horrified wail.

I felt myself jump, I heard myself yell.  I looked sheepishly into
Sam's startled eyes.

"Was I asleep?" I asked.

"For a few minutes, Master," she answered.

I got my breathing back under control, my heart slowed its hammering.
I told Sam of the dream I'd had, the scene from the drawing she gave to
me yesterday.

"I was there, watching from off shore.  The dragon came, and that's
when I woke."

"The drawing pleases Master?"

I looked at her.  "Yes I like it.  It seems to remind me of a scene in
a movie I'd seen before.  The girl, chained just like that.  A monster
of some sort, I think."

We held each other for a while longer and I examined Sam's bracelets
closer.  They were indeed too small to allow her hands to slip through
easily.  I liked it and I told her so again.  I got up to pull on my
shorts.  Sam went to pick up her slave robe and asked if I would put it
on her, since with her hands chained it was difficult to wrap it around
herself.  I helped her to dress, groping and hugging her as I went,
then she went to put the coffee on.  We had coffee and cake in her
living room while we watched the news on her television.  It was late,
but I was not eager to leave.

"Master?" a sweet voice asked.

"Mmmm?"

"Would you stay here tonight with me?"

Hands in chains upon my chest.  Soft, expectant eyes looking up at me.
How could I refuse?  I slept soundly that night in Samantha's bed, her
soft, warm body pressed close to mine.

Sam spent the night at my place after we went out for dinner on
Saturday night and saw a comedy show at a small theatre downtown.  The
comedian's routine was defiantly geared for an adult audience and often
uproariously funny.  That night her period had finished enough so we
could finally have sex again, which we did, and more than once.  I'd
asked her to bring her bracelets with the chain, and I watched as she
soaped up her hands and pushed the steel rings over them.  I used a
lock to attach her chain to the headboard of my bed and that was how
she stayed all that night and well into Sunday morning.  With her hands
locked above her head, she was defenceless against my tickling and
stroking her most intimate areas until she exploded in wondrous orgasm
time after time.  When I'd tired of that, I suddenly fell upon her
luscious body and pushed myself into her until my lust was sated in a
great flood of release.  We both had a lovely time.

On Sunday, I got Samantha to help me set up the tent in the back yard.
I have a smaller one, which is easy for me to put up, but I also had a
larger tent that has a screened-in front section that you can sit in if
the bugs are bad.  At this time of the year, I expected the bugs to be
bad.  Two people were required to set it up, but it was nice and roomy
inside.  You could easily stand up in it.  I pulled it out from storage
in the basement, and I wanted to be sure it had survived being unused
for so long.  As we worked to put the tent up, I could see Sam's
excitement grow from seeing the reality of our impending trip on the
following weekend.  I had insisted that Sam leave her shackles on, so
she was a little awkward helping me, but she managed.  She had worn a
short skirt and a tube top that she could put on with her hands
chained.  She had brought along a sweater to wear in the evening.

When it was time for me to take her home, I asked her to keep her
shackles on.  I said that she could hold her sweater in such a way to
cover her hands when we got to her apartment.  She looked at me for a
moment, then smiled such a wicked smile I was touched.  This was
probably the first time she would be so bold as to wear such an obvious
bondage item out in public.

As I drove her home, I asked if I needed to pick up anything for her
like bread or milk.  She said no.  I told her then to keep her chain on
for the rest of the day and all that night.  She agreed without
hesitation.  I watched her walk across the lot behind her building, her
sweater clasped in her hands in front of her.  At the door, she fished
her key from her pocket.  She turned to look around her, then looked at
me.  Sam brought her hand from under her sweater and waved at me, the
ring around her wrist and the chain clearly visible.  I waved back.
She put the key in the door and disappeared.

The following week, I was busy finishing up stuff at work and getting
my camping gear ready.  I repaired a few spots on the tent, and took it
down on Tuesday night, just before it began to rain.  I packed
everything up, ready to go.  Wednesday evening, I took Sam out for
dinner and we made love again in her bed afterwards.  She packed a bag
for the trip that I took home with me.  The next evening, I loaded all
the crap into the truck, tied the canoe on top, and we were ready to
roll.  I asked Sam to meet me at the subway station at the north end of
the city Friday morning to save a little time.  I packed up the cooler
with food, and picked her up there at eight in the morning.  Shortly
after, we were cruising through the countryside, the sun bright, radio
on, a glorious day.

We stopped at a burger joint along the way for an early lunch, then
pressed on to arrive at the western gate of the park a little before
noon.  A little over half an hour later, and I turned off the road into
the campground.  Silence descended like a thick shroud when I stopped
at the gate and switched off the motor.  A few birds, gentle rustling
of leaves in the trees; I could feel the tension flow out from me.  I
went into the office to check in and pick up the park information
newspaper.  I'd paid by card when I had booked the site, so it was only
a moment before I was moving slowly along the road, searching for our
spot.  I backed in the Jeep, then killed the engine for good.  Sunlight
sparkled through the trees where a little path at the back of the site
led a short way to the lake.  After untying the canoe, Sam helped me
carry it down to the water.  The shoreline was soft sand and appeared
to be shallow for a ways out.  A perfect spot.  The site itself was
reasonably far from its neighbours, separated by some brush amongst the
trees.

I try to get at least one week camping in each year, and this time I
had a pretty companion to share the experience with me.  Opening the
back of the truck, we prepared to set up camp.  My routine is simple,
first the lawn chair, this time two of them.  Then I set up the stove
and poured some water into the kettle for it to boil.

"Now," I told Samantha, "We wait for the coffee."

Camping requires a certain mental state.  I found the quicker you gain
that state of mind, the better.  I could see Sam fidgeting in her
chair, eager to do something, and I put my hand on her arm, looked at
her, and smiled.  She began to calm.  When the water was ready, I got
out the kitchen basket and fixed us two cups.

"Next," I told her, "we drink the coffee."

I sipped at the drink while staring out at the lake through the trees.
Sounds, seemingly from far away, could be heard.  Children playing at
the beach, a rattle of plates, someone fixing lunch.  A car door
closing.  Birds.  No steady din of cars or planes.  After about twenty
minutes, I stood and stretched, looking around for a good spot for the
tent.  I went to the truck and pulled out the ground sheet, then spread
it out.  A small flurry of activity ensued as Sam and I laid out the
tent, hammered in some pegs, and sorted out the poles.  Then, a walk
down to the beach.

We walked hand in hand along the road to the washrooms, then further
along to the beach.  I sat down on the grass at the edge of the sand
with Sam cuddled close, letting the warm summer's day infuse us with
laziness.  You could spot the people who had been here a week, or more.
Lying on the sand or sitting in the shade.  Kids out swimming or
digging in the sand.  A sort of serenity to them, at peace with
themselves and the beauty of nature all around.  Sam was still edgy,
wanting to do something, anything.  I turned to her.

"Close your eyes," I said, "listen."

She sat, straining to hear.

"I don't hear anything," she said.  "Kids laughing, the waves on the
sand."

She sat for a few minutes longer, then opened her eyes and looked
around.  I pointed out a rocky island at one side of the lake, another
to the right that you couldn't really see because it blended in with
the tree lined shore behind.

"There's a river around the corner," I said pointing to the right,
"that goes a long way.  We'll do that one tomorrow.  At the end of the
lake," I pointed straight across, east, "is the other river that passes
another camp ground."

I could finally feel Samantha beginning to let go, start to attain a
little of that calmness I felt each time I came here.  "It's beautiful
here," she said.

A little while longer and I said, "let's go."  We returned to the site
to finish with the tent.  I gave my rickety air pump to Sam and had her
blow up the air mattress while I finished putting a tarp over the tent,
and then I started to string up rope between the trees for another tarp
over the table in case it decided to rain.  I got the clothing bags
into the tent, and after a nice groping session, we changed into
bathing suits for a swim.

I got us towels, sunscreen, something to drink, and we headed for the
beach.  By this time, we were both hot and sweaty, but the lake was
cool and ever so refreshing.  You could walk out quite far before it
got deep.  After a long swim, we dried off, then I lovingly spread
sunscreen over every inch of Sam's exposed skin.  She did me and we lay
on the towels, relaxing, for the rest of the afternoon.

I was unsure if I should tell Sam my plans, or just drop it on her
tomorrow.  In the end, I decided to fill her in on the general idea.
Quite often with a scene, the anticipation beforehand can make the
difference between a good experience and a great one.

"Tomorrow we'll get an early start," I told her.  "Early for me is nine
or so.  After breakfast, we'll paddle the west river to the waterfall
and spend some time there.  There is a branch in the river that we'll
take on the way back that leads into a swamp.  Kind of a funny place,
you could get lost in there without a compass, but don't worry, I have
one.  It's a little hard to find, a bit of a tough slog to get into,
and I've never seen anyone else bother to go there.  The swampy part
doesn't lead on anywhere, just stops in a big area with low hills all
around.

"When we get to the swamp, I'll chain you."  I watched Sam's expression
change.  Her eyes got wide for a moment, then a kind of dreamy
expression came over her face as I went on.  There were people around
us, people walking nearby.  I kept my voice low, sinister, as I told
Sam what I was going to do to her.

"I remember a rocky area at the south end that might do.  I hiked up
the hill a few years back, there's nothing there.  I looked on the map
before we left; no trails around that area.  Should be nice and
private.  I'd like to chain you up to the cliff, like in the drawing
you gave me, but I don't know if that will work.  I might have to use a
tree, we'll see.  I'll bring a small axe and I should be able to find
some suitable sticks around, something thin and springy, birch or maple
maybe.  We'll see what works best on that cute bum of yours."  I could
see my talk having a visible effect on Samantha.  She was breathing
hard and her chest and face had a rosy glow, but not from the sun.  A
small grin pulled the corners of her mouth and her eyes had a far away
look to them.  I finished telling her my plan.  "I expect that we will
be there for a while, perhaps until it starts to get dark.  I might
leave you chained up there alone for a while.  I picked up a nice toy
for you last week, a rubber bit gag just like the pony girls have.
Don't want you yelling too loud and waking up the bears."

I'd heard her draw in a breath at the mention of the gag.  When I
mentioned bears, she looked startled.

"What bears?" she asked.

"Well," I explained, "this is bear country.  This is where they live,
in the woods."

I thought I might have gone too far with the bear thing, Sam being from
the city and all.  I explained that bears don't usually bother you if
you don't bother them first.  I'd only ever seen one once, wandering
through a campground in fact, and he seemed more intent on trying to
look inconspicuous than wanting to eat me.  She began to get agitated
about being left alone and helpless.  About getting beat with a stick
however, she seemed fine.  Go figure.

"I will leave you at some point," I said, "but I'll stay nearby.  I'll
keep the axe with me if it will make you feel better.  I could never
let anything happen to you, Sam, you know that."

She did know that, she told me, but I could still see a bit of worry in
her face.  I suggested a dip, so we splashed around in the water again,
Sam staying close to me, and we touched each other under the water, out
away from the other people.  Sam pulled down my trunks a little and
mounted me right out there, brushing aside her bikini bottoms and
guiding me into her.  But it was really obvious what we were doing and
I stopped it, telling her we should save it for later.

Later came in fifteen minutes.  We gathered up our stuff from the beach
and headed back to the campsite.  The place was starting to fill up now
with people coming in for the start of the weekend.  In the site next
to us were four young women setting up their tent.  I said to Sam they
looked like they needed some help and I pretended to go over, but she
held my arm tight and led me into our tent.  I unrolled the sleeping
bag on the mattress and spread a sheet over it.  Before I'd finished, I
had a naked girl climbing on my back.  Sam pulled down my wet shorts
and tossed them in the corner, then made a grab for my semi erect
penis.  She quickly had it hard and ready.  She practically threw me
down and raped me.

My lovely Samantha pushed me down on my back onto the sleeping bag and
threw her leg over to straddle me.  She was completely naked, no
jewellery, except for her piercings, no bondage, just her.  This
aggressiveness I'd never seen in her.  She had the most serene yet
wicked look on her face as she guided my cock into her slick cunt and
began to hammer her body up and down on me.  It was great.  With the
increased activity in the campground, I didn't need to worry at first
about Sam making noise, but as her pounding became more frenzied, she
started to vocalize her heat in yelps and louder moaning.  I used the
first thing that came to hand, her bikini bottoms, rolling them up, and
packed the fabric into her open mouth.  When she became aware of what I
had done, she grinned and pushed the bottoms tighter into her own
mouth, then let out a muffled yell as she renewed her efforts on my
cock.  I grabbed hold of her hips to pull myself up facing her, then
wrapped my arms around her waist to hold us together.  Her body was
bouncing up and down, her wet hair flying all around us, and now her
tits were rubbing on my chest with my hairs tickling her nipples.  Her
arms flew up around my shoulders, her cunt ground down on me, and we
both came together in a quick, crashing orgasm that left me reeling
with the intensity of it.

I eased back down to the mattress, pulling Samantha down with me, and
we lay like that for a while, panting our breath in each other's faces
as we recovered.  I saw on her face, as she began to become more aware,
her previous predatory expression change to that of almost guilt, shame
at her allowing herself to force herself on me like she had done.  She
moved herself up to allow my softened cock to slide out of her,
grabbing a handy beach towel to catch the inevitable mess.  I sat up to
stroke her back and her hair.  She knelt on the floor beside the bed,
looking downwards, feeling, I thought, troubled.

My nature usually demands that I am the one in control of things,
particularly things having to do with sex.  That's just the way I like
it, the way I am wired, I guess.  But there have been times where I
allowed my control to slide, to let myself be taken over somewhat with,
I suppose, feelings of submissiveness.  Just to lay back and have
another do it to me, not having to think, but simply savour the
pleasures being given to me.  I had enjoyed letting Sam gain the upper
hand just now, having her force the issue, so to speak.  Now, as I
watched her try to figure out what to say, her submissive nature at war
with what had just occurred, what she had done, I knew I had to regain
my position and handle this situation.  I had to, and I felt that Sam
expected me to.  I roused myself to start pulling on my shorts.

"Get dressed, Sam," I said in a gentle but firm manner.  "Short skirt
and tube top only."

I left the tent, buckling my belt and zipping up as I went, and stepped
out into the late afternoon sunlight.  The campground was busy now, the
noises of cars and people setting up their camp would continue past
nightfall.  I opened the back of the Jeep to get the water jug, then
went down the road until I came to a tap.  Along the way, and while I
was filling the jug, I nodded to people passing by, saying hi and such,
nice weather.  I wondered if any of them guessed what I had been doing
not ten minutes ago.

With the jug filled, I returned to our site to see Samantha standing
outside the tent, looking lost.  I heaved the water jug onto the picnic
table, then took the kettle to put some water in it.  Yes, it's coffee
time.  I smiled at her and I lit the stove to heat the water.  I sat at
the table, motioning to Sam to join me.  She looked nice, fragile in a
way, her bare legs and feet, her bare tummy and arms, hair somewhat in
disarray.  She sat near me looking down at the ground.  I let her speak
first and I didn't have to wait long for it.

"Master, I'm sorry for letting myself get carried away just now.  When
you told me what you had in mind for tomorrow, I just got so hot that I
had to have you."

"I suppose I'll have to punish you," I told her.  An image instantly
flashed in my mind and I smiled.

Sam looked up at me.  "You're not angry?" she asked.

One look at her face and I had to relent.

"No," I told her.  "I want you to enjoy our time up here.  I'm pleased
that you found my plans for tomorrow to your satisfaction."

I got up to prepare the coffee, making two cups after the water had
boiled.  I handed Sam hers, then sat near her again.

"After dinner we'll go for a boat ride across the lake," I said.
"There's a bike trail that we can walk along, and another path to a
different lake.  Maybe we'll find a quiet spot for your punishment."

She looked up at me in surprise.  Apparently, I had not been kidding
earlier, and I watched her begin to fall back into her subbie state,
imagining what form of punishment I had in mind.  It soon felt like
dinnertime and the smells of cooking coming from around us seemed to
confirm it.  I put the frying pan on to heat, arranged some things on
the table, and sat to prepare our dinner.  On a piece of firewood, I
cut up some potatoes and onions into thin slices along with a few other
vegetables.  The potatoes went into the pan first with a little butter.
I talked as I worked.

"Have you ever been hit with a cane?" I asked.  Sam shook her head, no,
and I went on.  "Me neither.  I've been told it can be rather painful,
though.  You wouldn't think it, but a thin springy one can hurt worse
than a thicker, stiff one."

I gave the potato slices a stir and went on.  "We'll try it later and
see how it goes, O.K.?"

Sam looked up dreamy eyed.  "Yes, sir."

Some sliced chicken breast went into the pan with a dash of hot sauce.
Several minutes later, I added the rest of the vegetables, green
peppers, fresh yellow beans, and a sprinkle of salt and pepper.  Two
cut up tomatoes and some fresh bought bread, along with a nice bottle
of dry red wine, completed the meal.  After supper, Sam washed the
dishes while I put things away, then I gathered up some stuff for the
boat ride.  We made a trip to the washrooms, then we set out.

My canoe has a rather flat bottom with a ridge along the length and two
shorter ones on each side along the bottom.  While not as easily
manoeuvrable as some I've tried, the trade-off of better stability is
one that I prefer.  Alone, I can lean it over on its side to bring more
of the bottom out of the water making the paddling easier.  Sam was a
little nervous at first, until, while still in the shallow water, I
showed her how far the boat could lean before it started to feel tippy.

It must have been around six when we set out, with still a good three
or four hours of light left.  I set an unhurried rhythm telling Sam to
take it easy so our arms didn't get too strained the first time out.
There was no wind and the lake was almost as smooth as glass.  I
steered us around the island and we stopped along the rocky side to
pull into a little bay and get out.  Sitting on a rock with my lovely
companion beside me, bare feet in the warm water, evening sunlight upon
us, could it get any better?

There were others out on the lake, taking in an evening paddle, and we
waved to several couples who passed by our rocky perch.  After a while,
we got back in the canoe to paddle across the narrow lake to the other
side.

There was a small sandy clearing that was an access point to the bike
trail and a portage trail to another lake.  I stepped out into the
water, then began to rummage through the bag I'd brought along.  Sam
watched me pull out a length of chain, which I put into my pocket, two
small padlocks that went into the other pocket, and my small hatchet,
which I stuck under my belt in back.  I tied off the boat and handed
Sam a towel to carry, and we put on running shoes for the walk through
the forest.  I used a can of bug spray to apply some on us both so we
wouldn't be eaten too badly, then I held her hand to help her up the
steep embankment to the trail.

The bike trail used to be a railway line.  The tracks had long been
removed and, more recently, bridges had been built to replace the
original ones that had fallen down or were taken away.  The line runs
the length of the park, its flat surface and gentle grades making it
ideal for cyclists to travel on.  A few people on bikes passed us as we
walked the short distance to the other trail.  I turned onto this
trail, and after only a few minutes walk, we were alone, surrounded by
thick forest.

The trail was uphill.  I spotted something that looked like a passable
path leading to a small rocky cliff face and turned off, pulling
Samantha along with me.  After I was sure we could get to where I
thought was a good spot, I stopped and turned to her.

"Put out your hands, Samantha," I said as I pulled the chain from my
pocket.

I had brought two locks but only one key, and I made sure I had the
right lock before I wrapped the chain around her crossed wrists and
clicked the lock closed.  The key for this lock was back at camp, in
the truck.  When I told her this, her eyes got wide for a moment as it
dawned on her that she was now stuck with her hands chained together in
front until we got back to the camp site. She looked nervous at first
but then a small grin began to play at the corners of her mouth.  The
chain was long enough that it hung almost to the ground when Sam
lowered her hands.  I took up the end in my hand and began to lead her
through the forest again.

There's never a shortage of sticks in the woods, but I needed a special
one.  Twice, as we walked, I stopped to pull the axe from my belt and
cut a branch off a bush or a tree, ones that were nice and straight,
fairly even in thickness along the length.  I used the sharp axe to nip
off any side shoots and shave off some of the bark.  After I finished
with one, I gave it to Samantha to hold between her bound hands while I
worked up another.  When we reached the small cliff, we walked along
the base until I spied a nice niche that even had the perfect tree
growing partially imbedded in the rock face.

"Wait here," I told her.

I went to the tree and shook it, then climbed up the rocks a bit until
I was sure there was nothing loose that might fall later on.  I asked
Sam to come over to the tree.  Taking the end of her chain, I pulled
her hands up just a bit over her head, then looped the chain around a
thick branch and clicked the other lock closed, the one that I had the
key for.

Since we'd left the boat, Sam had been very quiet, and when I'd chained
her hands, I heard her let out a little moan as the lock clicked
closed.  After I'd handed her that first stick to carry, I glanced back
a couple of times to see her feeling the smooth wood and perhaps
wondering how it would feel against her bum.

I watched her now as she tugged on the chain, put her weight on it, and
I saw it in her eyes as the reality of her situation came to her, that
she was chained to a tree out in the wilderness, completely at my
mercy.  I undid the belt of her skirt and unbuttoned the buttons to let
it drop to her feet.  As she stepped out of the skirt, I pulled her
sneakers off too, then I pulled her stretchy tube top down over her
hips and down her legs to the ground.

As per my previous orders, she had on no panties.  While I was bent
down, I caught a whiff of her heady musk and breathed deep of it.  I
gave her pussy a squeeze and felt her heat, the wetness there
signalling her readiness for what was to come.  I gathered up all her
clothes and placed them on a rock nearby, then returned to stand before
her and picked one of my sticks off the ground.  The thin one.  I set
my voice in a low, ominous tone.

"Samantha," I began the incantation, "for allowing your wanton lust to
get the better of you and for forcing yourself upon your master with no
regard for his feelings or wishes, you will receive ten lashes with the
cane upon your pretty little bum."

I thought I did well getting through that speech without bursting out
laughing.  I could see Sam also trying not to smile.

"I haven't brought your gag," I told her, "so I don't want to hear you
yelling, O.K.?  If I have to use leaves and junk to gag you, it won't
be pleasant."

"Yes, sir," she said.

I took a position behind her and told her to keep still.  Before she
even knew what happened, I laid on six quick strokes, three on each
cheek.  Not all that hard, mind you, but firm enough to leave nice
reddened marks, nicely spaced I might add, except for the last two
where Sam had begun jumping around as the pain started to register in
her brain.

"Ow, Ow, Ow!" she exclaimed as she hopped from one foot to the other.
She pulled hard on her chain to try to bring her hands down to rub her
stinging bottom, but of course that was impossible, and she only
succeeded in shaking the tree a little.  A few leaves fluttered down as
she strove to sooth her tender bum, and she gave me a highly erotic
display of a naked young girl struggling to free herself from being
chained to a tree.

Her shock and surprise soon waned, and she began to accept the pain and
settle down.  I checked the chain around her wrists and adjusted it as
much as I could to give her a bit better comfort.  Then I traded the
thin stick for the thicker one, holding it before her face.  'Should I
or shouldn't I?' I thought to myself.  Samantha seemed O.K. with this
so far, so I did it.  I held the switch to her lips.  "Kiss," I said to
her.

She did.  Sam had glued her eyes to the stick when I'd presented it
before her, and as I moved it closer to her lips, she tilted her head
up to gently plant a little kiss on it.  She then locked eyes with me
and smiled so sweetly that my heart almost melted.  I had to turn away
to step behind her or I would have become caught up in the power of her
lusty desire.

Sam planted her feet apart slightly and bent at her waist as much as
the chain would allow, presenting herself as a nice target for me.  I
could see her pussy displayed nicely, the lips swollen with her
arousal, her two rings shiny in the evening sunlight that was filtering
through the trees.  Sam wiggled her bum to shake me from my reverie.  I
paused just a moment longer, then I swung.

I put a bit more snap into this one, catching her ass cheek around mid
point, between the upper two marks.  Sam let out a low grunt as her bum
absorbed the force of the stroke.  Just a short pause to let her
settle, and then another stroke, same place, other cheek, the sharp
sound seemingly loud in the silent forest.  I looked around, cocked an
ear, but I heard no one.  If anyone happened to blunder along the
trail, I felt confident I would hear them well before they saw us in
our rocky shelter.

I gave Sam her two final strokes, making her groan rather loudly on the
last and slump down slightly, held up by her chained wrists.  I dropped
the stick to put my arm around her waist to help support her and take
her weight off the chain.  The tan lines of her bikini bottom had given
me a nice canvas to work with, and there were only two places where I
had coloured over the line.  I held her tightly and nuzzled her neck as
she quickly recovered.  When she could stand by herself, I took the key
from my pocket to unlock her from the tree.  I sat with my back to the
tree and Sam lay across my lap while I gently traced her whip marks
with a finger.  Her ass was burning hot.  A few of the lines felt
raised slightly and I felt Sam twitch a bit when I touched her there.

"Are you all right, Samantha?" I asked.

She answered after only a moment.  "Yes, sir, I'm fine."

"No really, are you O.K.?" I asked again.

In answer, Sam rose up off my legs to press her body against me,
putting her arms around my head and pressing her lips to mine in a
passionate kiss.  I shifted around a bit beneath her; there was a rock
or something digging in my ass, then I held her tightly to me as our
tongues danced together.  We broke apart after a long while to just
cuddle beneath our tree.  I checked her hands again and shifted the
chain around a little, then it was time to go.  I had to help Sam to
get her clothes back on, then we set out.

I carried the two sticks and held on to the end of Sam's chain while
she followed behind me, until we reached the trail again.  I then gave
her the chain to hold and I draped the towel over her wrists.  That
way, if anyone came along, it wouldn't look like I had a pretty girl
chained up in the woods.  However we made the canoe without seeing
anyone, and after Sam was comfortable, I pushed the boat out and
stepped in.  Samantha found kneeling in the bottom preferable to
sitting on the seat.  I paddled while she enjoyed the view.

It was just beginning to get dark as we arrived back at our site.  I
stepped out into the water to pull the boat closer to the shore before
Sam got out.  There was a moment where she dropped her chain and it
clattered loudly against the side of the canoe, but there was no one
nearby to notice.  I walked her into our tent, then went to the truck
to get her key.

After I unlocked her hands, I saw there were a few red marks on her
wrists that would probably result in some bruising, but Sam said that
it was worth it and seemed quite pleased with her session in the woods.
A little taste of things to come that had gone very nicely, I thought.
I had her strip and I applied some of my soothing witch hazel skin
lotion to the marks on her bum.  I found that it was also good for bug
bites, which we both had a few of.  Sam wanted a shower, but I said to
wait, that we'd take a quick wash in the lake before bed.  I left her
in the tent to get dressed while I made us a pot of tea.

Although it was still hot outside, what's camping without a campfire?
I chopped up some pieces of scrap wood from a box full that I'd brought
and built a small fire in the fire pit.  I lit the lantern and then
found us a package of biscuits while Samantha made the tea.  Then we
sat around the fire to relax and talk.

"How's your bum?" I asked.  "Sore?"

"A little," she said.  "That was nice, back there.  I felt so exposed
out in the open like that."

"I would have stopped if I heard someone coming."

"I know you would have.  Are you still going to do that to me
tomorrow?" she asked.

"Of course," I answered.  "Something like that.  For longer perhaps, a
little more involved.  We'll see."

"Would you make love to me afterwards?"

"In a little while, sure."  I knew what she really meant.

"No," she said.  "Yes, I mean later, but tomorrow too, out in the
woods.  Could we..."

"Sure, Sam.  I'd planned to."

We got up to take a walk around the campground and stop at the
washrooms.  There were still people setting up their tents and trailers
by the light of their car headlights.  The place was full, not an empty
site to be had.  Folks sitting around the fire, drinking, laughing,
music playing softly.  Great.  We arrived back at our site and finished
off the tea while I tuned in the weather report on my little radio.  We
listened to some news reports from another planet far removed from the
safe and peaceful reality of here.

The campground began to quiet down later on, signalling bedtime.  I
asked Sam if she had her bracelets with the chain with her and she said
yes, so I asked her to get them.  I got a couple of towels and a bar of
soap while Sam pinned up her hair, and after I turned off the lantern,
we headed towards the lake behind our site.

It was pitch dark, no moon, just a ton of stars over our heads.  I
watched Sam soap up her hands to slide her bracelets on and then we
washed each other in the cool lake water.  We sat naked in the water
afterwards, for a long while, just holding each other and staring up at
the heavens.  Sam said she'd never seen so many stars before.  The
sight of the night sky up here, so far away from the glare of city
lights, never fails to humble me, makes our world seem so insignificant
in such a vast universe.

After we dried off, I gathered up our clothes and Sam held her chain so
as it wouldn't tinkle while we padded naked along the little path to
our tent.  We both took a piss on some bushes, then, after brushing the
dirt off our feet, we lay down in the softness of our bed with just a
sheet covering us, since it was still quite warm.  Cuddling close
together, we drifted off to sleep.


[part2]

We didn't hit the water until closer to ten the next morning.  Although
I had wakened around seven or so, Samantha's soft warm body was just
too much temptation for me, and I first spent long minutes just
watching her sleep before my hands began to gently trace along those
luscious curves and valleys that her nude form presented to me.
Several times, as my fingers brushed lightly over a nipple or dipped
into her naval, she would sigh softly in her sleep and the corners of
her mouth would curl in a smile.

When I could no longer stand the never-ending cuteness of her, I pushed
my hand between her thighs and pressed against her sex, feeling her two
rings pressing back against the edge of my hand.  With my other hand, I
massaged her lower back where she had two little dimples just above her
hipbones.  It was then she woke to see me smiling at her.

"I forgot to fuck you last night," I said.

I rolled her onto her back and I lay on top of her, taking my hard cock
in my hand and rubbing it up and down in her slit until she was nice
and wet and was shifting her ass around underneath me.  Her hands were
grabbing at my head soon after to try to pull me into her.  I reached
over to my bag to take out a lock, then I placed her chain under her
head and around her neck.  Moving her hands close together under her
chin, there was enough length in the chain that I could slip the
shackle of the lock through her two bracelets and click it closed,
trapping her hands at the sides of her head with her hair under the
chain.  I lifted myself up a little to get a better view.

Sam looked almost comical with her elbows sticking up and her hands
fastened uselessly underneath her face.  Her thick mass of hair was
pressed close by the chain to frame her head.  Her need was becoming
urgent, which she demonstrated by bringing up her feet to try to
position my ass closer to her so I could enter her.  I guided my cock
to push into her slick tunnel of delight.  Sam uttered a low contented
groan as I hit bottom, her hands grasping air, straining to touch me.
I held my position for several long minutes, watching her become more
and more aroused until neither of us could stand it any longer, and
then I began to pump forcefully in and out of her tight, wet vagina.

When she began to make too much noise, I lowered my body down to lock
my mouth over hers in an enthusiastic kiss, effectively stifling her
squeals of delight with my tongue.  We fucked this way for what seemed
like a long time before her second orgasm triggered mine with her cunt
muscles contracting and tightening around my cock and feeling like a
satiny smooth gloved hand squeezing and milking every last drop of
fluid from my body.  God, I loved screwing this girl.

I managed to grab a handy towel to wipe myself as I rolled off her,
stuffing the other end between her legs.  Despite the effort, there
still ended up a big wet spot on the sheet.  The air inside the tent
was hot and reeked of sex.  We lay for several more minutes, gasping
and panting from our early morning exertions, before I found the key to
unlock her hands.

With an enormous effort of will, I got myself up off the bed to make a
start on the day.  While I was getting dressed, Samantha pulled a dress
from her bag to show me.  She held it up and I saw it was a short
sleeveless light blue sundress, with over the shoulder straps that
buttoned to the front.  I asked her to try it on, so she gathered the
material up and put it over her head, then smoothed the dress down her
body.  With her bracelets and the chain, it was a bit awkward for her
to get the straps from her back to over her shoulders, but she soon had
them buttoned and stood before me, hands still in chains, fully
dressed.

"It's perfect," I told her.  "Wear it today.  No shoes, no underwear,
but put your bikini on underneath later on before we go.  You look
really nice, Sam," I added.

"Thank you sir," she said.  "May I take my bracelets off now?"

"After breakfast," I said.  "Now let's get cracking."

The big washrooms on the hill had running water and showers, even
washers and dryers, but there were also outhouse type toilets scattered
around, one just at the end of our road, set in amongst the trees.
Most people didn't bother with them because of the smell, preferring
the cleaner big washrooms, but they were good if you couldn't wait or
didn't want to walk so far.  Or if you didn't want to be seen by a lot
of people.

I handed a towel to Sam, telling her to hold it around her hands, then
we set off down the road to the toilet.  I could tell Sam was a little
nervous at first, clutching the towel and her chain tightly in front of
her, and we did run into a couple people along the way, but we just
said hi and kept on walking.  Just two people who had recently woken up
and heading for the can.  Sam went into the ladies and I, the other,
took a piss, then waited outside for her.  I did hear her chain clank
on the seat or something, but she finished and we walked back to our
site.

Our little clearing in the trees was our home, for now, and mostly
campers respected that.  You wouldn't barge into someone's kitchen
uninvited.  As I got out the food and stuff from the Jeep, Samantha
stayed near the other side of the table trying to hide the fact her
hands were chained in shackles from passers-by on the road.  While I
cooked us up some bacon and eggs, I did see a couple people seem to do
a double take when they glanced over, but I think it was more
Samantha's beauty that attracted the eye than the bracelets and chain
shining bright in the morning light, which she was keeping pretty much
out of sight anyway.

We were soon seated before a nice pile of bacon and fried eggs, bread
and cheese, orange juice, and lots of strong coffee to wash it all
down.  I helped Sam serve herself so she wouldn't have to reach and
show off or rattle her chain too much.  After we'd finished eating, I
gathered up the plates and stuff, handed her the dish soap, and said
she could take off her bracelets and then do the dishes.  Lovely to
look at and so handy to have along.  Sam was smiling a lot as she
worked, pleased with herself for passing yet another test of her
willingness to submit to whatever form of perversion came to my mind.

I started to gather up all the things we would need for our outing and
carry them down to the canoe.  I'd baked a bannock, which is like a big
bran muffin with raisins and chocolate chips in it, and I cut off some
slices, spread a little butter on them, and wrapped them in foil.  A
few fresh peaches, a couple cans of pop, and that would do for lunch.
Some packaged pastries, a bunch of cookies, and my canteen of water for
a snack.  I expected we'd be back here for a late dinner at some point
in the evening.

From the bottom of my clothes bag, I pulled out the bit gag I'd bought
for Sam.  I'd actually found this last year at a sex store downtown,
and from the moment I had lain eyes on it, although there was no one in
my life at that point to use it on, I knew that I had to have it for my
collection.  It was black rubber in the shape of a dog bone with two
steel rings through the ends and a leather strap.

The reason it had caught my fancy is that it was quite stiff, and upon
closer examination, I discovered that the rubber had been moulded
around a thin steel bar, the rings passing through holes in the rubber
and the steel as well.  Held tight in one's mouth by a chain and a
lock, the device would be almost impossible to remove, short of sawing
through the chain.  The leather strap and buckle would do for now,
though.

I added some chains, three locks for which I left the keys in my bag,
and on the way to the boat, I picked up Sam's bracelets from the table
where she'd left them.  I told her sunscreen should make a slippery
enough substance for her to get them on later.

We made a trip to the washrooms to clean up and stuff, then we hit the
water, a bit later than I'd planned, but the sky was clear and the day
gloriously hot.  I knew it was about a leisurely three-hour paddle to
the falls, and with Samantha along to help, we could set an easy pace.
From our site, we paddled around our end of the lake and found the
mouth of the river.  Again, upon entering the river, in only a short
time we found ourselves totally alone with only the sounds of nature
around us.  Actually, we did meet up with several people in canoes
coming or going along the river and after a few pleasantries were
exchanged, we each drifted off our separate ways.

We stopped where the new bridge was built for the bike path, an orange
painted steel and wood structure to save the bikers from wading across
the river as I'd seen them do before, cursing at having to get their
feet wet, holding their bikes up out of the water.  There used to be
rocks in the river here and it was difficult to get through by boat,
but now the park workers had removed a lot of them and we could paddle
under the bridge without having to get out and push.  We stopped for a
swim, Sam stripping off her dress and I, my tee shirt.  I could see on
Sam's bum a couple of marks from her whipping last night peeking past
her bikini bottom, but it simply looked more like marks from the canoe
seat, or from something else.  After applying more sunscreen, we
pressed on.

We had to stop again and get out so I could pull the boat up over a
beaver dam, our bare feet sinking in the gooey ooze the industrious
creatures had used to plug between the jumble of branches and trees
that made up the dam.  Paddling on past the dam, I pointed out to Sam
the rounded piles of brush that were the beaver's dens.  I noted where
the river that we would take on the way back joined our stream, and
pointed it out to her.  We encountered one more dam along the way, this
one much bigger now than last time I was here.  The little buggers had
been busy, and it was a bit of a struggle to get us past it.

After many more twists and turns in the river, the roar from the
waterfall began to reach us.  Around the last bend, the vista opened
before us.  Well, it's not a big falls, but the river flowed over the
pinkish coloured rock in a twisting fashion, creating a rather
spectacular panorama.  There were several people about, in the water or
sunning on the rocks.  This little slice of heaven is located at the
crossroads of the river, a hiking trail, and the bike trail.  A bridge
stretched over the falls for people to walk across, and there were
toilets in the woods on the other side.

After we got out, I tied the boat to a bush, then Sam and I went
exploring.  At the top was another big pool, and after I made sure
Samantha knew the rock might be slippery, we waded into the fast moving
current at the start of the falls.  We spent a good three hours in the
area.  I'd brought along a watch so I knew.  Sam helped me carry the
canoe up the path to the pool at the head of the falls, and we lay on
the rocks in the sun, swam in the water when it got too hot, then lay
on the rocks some more.  After a snack, we set out again to travel a
little farther up the river.

Just a bit past the falls is what was left of one of the old railway
bridges.  Huge square blocks of grey stone had been used to shore up
the riverbanks, and the ominous looking structures towered over us in
our tiny boat.  The wooden beams, or perhaps steel, of the bridge was
no longer there, salvaged when the tracks were torn up, but the stone
abutments still stood proud, a testament to the engineers of days gone
by.

A little past the bridge and we stopped at another waterfall, this one
not so spectacular as the last, just a long area of grey rock where the
river tumbled down and around the stones.  We took our lunch along a
trail that led around the rapids and stopped to eat on a hilltop
overlooking a marshy area where the river continued.

"Is this the swamp?" Samantha asked me.

"It's a swamp," I answered, "but not the one we'll visit later."

"It's really beautiful up here.  Thanks for bringing me."

"Thank you for coming, Sam.  I'm pleased that I could share it with
you.  I always like places like this, wide-open, quiet.  It's such a
contrast from work, the crowds of the city.  I think it would get
boring after a while though.  I'd miss the bustle of city life, things
to do, but it makes a nice break, don't you think?"

"I grew up on a small farm near a little town in Manitoba," Sam told
me.  "The open spaces were nice when I was a kid, but when I moved to
Toronto, with the excitement and the crowds, I thought I'd gone to
Heaven.  So much to do and see there.  But seeing your house and the
land around it, and now coming up here where there's no noise and
bustling crowds, the beautiful land all around, I'm starting to
appreciate a bit more my parents peaceful little farm."

"It's nice now in the summer," I said, "but when it's all under eight
feet of snow, there's not much to do around here.  You could own a
store or rent rooms to tourists, but then you work all summer to make
enough money to travel someplace warm in the winter.  There's not a lot
of nightlife in the towns around here.  Even if you had enough money
that you didn't have to work, I think you could run out of things to do
pretty quickly."

"I guess," Sam replied.

We sat together on the grass, watching big fluffy white clouds track
shadows across the marsh.  Later on, I roused myself to gather up the
remains of lunch and we headed back to the boat.  A leisurely float,
the flow of the river gently carrying us along, and we returned to the
waterfalls for a short swim before carrying the boat around and setting
it in the pool at the base of the falls.

It was much easier going back with the current taking us with it.  The
big beaver dam was less of a problem, as I just had to hold onto the
rope and push the canoe down the side of the pile of sticks.  Then we
waded out and climbed back in.  It was close to four in the afternoon
when I spotted the gap in the bush where the other river was and we
turned in.  More of a stream really, deep enough where it was narrow,
but in a few places where it widened, we had to get out and walk along
the sandy bottom carrying the boat, the water barely ankle deep.

"Are you going to be all right doing this on the way back?" I asked.

"I don't know.  Am I?"

I grinned at her.  "Maybe not, but we'll manage somehow."

The shallow spots weren't that long, the ever-present beaver dams were
not big either, and we made the beginning of the swamp in about an
hour.  I stopped in a shallow spot to hand Sam her bracelets and the
sunscreen bottle.  I told her to take off her bikini and to put her
dress back on.  After doing that, she rubbed some of the lotion over
her hands and pushed the bracelets on over them.  Then I grabbed the
chain in the middle and pulled her to me for a nice big kiss.

I gave us both a spritz of bug repellent, and after climbing up over
another beaver dam, we entered the marsh.  Sam was somewhat awkward
trying to paddle with her hands chained, but we were in no hurry now
and I told her to relax, to just push when we needed to turn or
something.  Away from the dam, the water was still and calm.  The
unusual thing about this area was where there was open water, it was
fairly deep, but the vegetation had formed sort of close islands all
around, the roots of the plants and bushes keeping the soil in thick
clumps so the sides going down in the water were steep.  You could get
a boat close to the islands, and if you were willing to scramble
through the plants, you could climb up and have a good view over the
big area.  But from down in the canoe the water seemed to branch again
and again, and you couldn't really tell where you were, since the
islands, some of which were rather large, blocked your view.

I knew from past explorations that there was a clearing of sorts at the
far side that we could get to, and it overlooked the entire area.  I
set my compass down in the bottom of the boat and we began to work our
way around the maze of islands.  Except for the sounds of our paddles
in the water, the tinkling of Sam's chain, the buzz of insects, and the
occasional screech of a bird, the swamp was dead silent.  Clouds
covered most of the sky now.  The weather report had forecasted rain
later on tonight, and I hoped it would hold off until we finished up
here and got back to camp.  At least without the sun it wasn't so hot.
When we got to what I figured was mid way, I drove the canoe between
two clumps of plants to steady it, then asked Samantha to turn around
and face me.

I took two short pieces of chain and a lock from a bag.  I motioned to
Sam to bring her feet closer to me and I lay one chain on her foot.

"I have three locks with me," I told her, "and the keys are all back in
the tent.  I'd like to chain your feet together now, and once the lock
is closed, that commits us to carry out the plan I told you about
yesterday.  Do you still want to go through with this?"

While I was speaking, I was putting the chains around each of
Samantha's ankles and hooking the ends through the lock.  The two
chains were long enough not to be tight around her ankles but too short
to slip off over her heels.  I held the open lock with my fingers while
running my other hand up and down her leg.  I could see a brief moment
of indecision flicker in her eyes, fear at being helpless out here,
fear of what would or could happen to her.  In the end, I saw her
smile, the thirst for adventure winning out over practicality.

Sam didn't have to tell me, I saw her decision written large across her
face when she looked up at me.  I smiled and clicked the lock closed,
that final sounding snap seemingly loud in the silent marsh.  I lifted
both her feet up to rest them on the center thwart, the lock hanging
down and banging against it, then I bent down to lovingly plant little
kisses on all ten of her sweet little toes.  Then, after Samantha had
settled back in front, I pushed off the bank and got us moving again.

I'd seen several areas along the way with of some kind of a plant
growing in the water, some sort of reed or water grass.  It had long,
thick leaves and when we came upon a large bunch of it, I steered the
boat into the middle and used my knife to cut some of the strands.  Sam
watched curiously as I took two of the stalks together and smacked them
down on my bare leg a couple times.  Then she got it.  I stretched out
to smack her bare arm with the stiff leaves.

"Ow!" she exclaimed.  "That hurt!"

I smiled and continued cutting the stalks until I had ten of them,
trimmed to all the same length, about two feet.  I used a different
part of the plant, a softer yet more fibrous stalk, to bind the bundle
of leaves tightly together at the base and again a few inches up.  I
held the finished handicraft up for Samantha's approval.  A very
passable flogger, I thought.

After taking a couple blind alleys and having to back track a bit, we
finally rounded a bend and came upon the edge of the marsh where the
little clearing was.  The rocky hillside could be glimpsed through the
trees.  The boat bottomed out on the sandy shore and I stepped out,
then pulled my end up over a fallen tree.  Sam put her feet in the
water and I helped her stand up, then told her to stay there while I
went to have a look around, not that she could go very far.  I hiked up
the hill a little until I came to the rocks and looked around.  The
rock face of the cliff was mostly overgrown with plants, but there were
several big boulders at the base.  I went back to the boat and pulled
it up onto the shore, then I untied the rope from the boat, got another
lock, and went to Sam.

"I'd like to make a small adjustment to your bracelets," I told her.  I
pushed her chain underneath one bracelet, then put the shackle of the
lock through a link.  I did the same with the other ring, then looped
the lock through the chain link.  Before I closed the lock, I looked at
her and, seeing only a look of accepting trust, I clicked the lock
closed.  Now, with the chain through the rings taking up space, she
could never slip them over her hands and her wrists were held closer
together, only a couple inches apart.

I unbuttoned the straps of her dress, then gathered the material up to
pull it over her head and off her arms.  I folded the dress and placed
it on the seat of the boat, putting a life jacket over it so it
wouldn't blow away if it got windy.  Then I picked up my precious
Samantha to carry her to shore and up into the woods.

Ever since we'd entered the marsh, I could see Samantha grow more
accepting as the reality of the situation unfolded.  I'd taken her the
distance, from companion to owned creature, from a free person to now,
a trussed up and helpless little animal being lugged through a deserted
forest to her eventual slaughter.  I could feel her tension as I
carried her, hitched up over my shoulder, her chained hands dangling
down my back, her chained feet bobbing before me.  She'd kick her feet
a bit or pull with her hands, the chains snapping taught, her limbs
pinned in sturdy steel, and I'd hear her moan softly as her submission
grew deeper.  I slid a hand up her thigh to feel her pussy, hot, wet
with her arousal, and I knew this was going to be good.  My cock had
been straining at the front of my swim trunks for a while now, eager to
get on with it.

I came to the rocks and set Sam down on a patch of soft grass.  She
could barely focus her eyes at first, so deep was she into her role as
a helpless little creature, and I just held her and stroked her for a
while.  She was constantly moving, shifting her legs, fidgeting with
the bracelets and chain with her hands, trying to find some means of
escape, of which there was none, and wouldn't be for quite some time
now.  I held her hands tightly in mine.

"Samantha," I called to her.  "Samantha."

Finally the glazed look left her eyes and she turned her face to me.

"It'll be O.K," I said to her.

She took a few deep breaths.  "I'm all right.  I just," she began to
twist her hands and shake her feet against the chains again, "oh, oh!"
It only took a couple of light strokes of my finger to bring her off in
an explosive orgasm that had her clutching tightly to my arm and
thrashing her legs around.  I wrapped my other arm around her ankles to
hold her legs so she didn't hurt herself in the chains and I let her
ride it out.  When she was done, I relaxed my grip on her and waited
for her to recover.  After a while, her eyes flickered open and she
looked at me.

"Does little one feel better now?" I asked.

She smiled.  "Thank you master, little one needed that."

"Shall we continue?"

"If it pleases master, may we?"

"I need to get some things from the boat," I told her, "wait here for
me."

I left her to go the short distance to the canoe.  From the hill, I
could see over the whole marsh, and I verified we would not be
disturbed by anyone for at least a while.  From the boat, I got the
length of rope, my axe, her gag, and all the towels.  They'd make a
nice padding over a big rock that I'd noticed earlier.  I picked up the
flogger I'd made, then quickly returned to Samantha.  As I approached,
I saw she'd stood up and was trying to walk a bit in the chains.  She
could only move her feet an inch or two each step, and on the rough
terrain she was having trouble even keeping her balance, let alone
making any progress.  When I got to her, I saw, incredibly, she was
once again close to cumming.  This time my dick said, "I will not be
denied."  I listened to him, he's usually right.  I dropped the things
I was carrying and stepped to her.  Sam fell to her knees before me,
hands held up in supplication.

"Master," she said in a small voice.  "Please help me."

Hooking my thumbs in the waistband of my shorts, I pulled them down and
stepped out of them.  My raging member sprang free and she immediately
took it in her mouth.  But I was past that stage, and I took her head
to ease her down on the small patch of soft grass, then I knelt in
front of her.  Hooking my fingers through her ankle chains, I lifted
her feet high in the air and inched closer to her, spreading my knees
on each side of her hips.  I lined up, then entered her in one smooth
stroke, filling her up.  Her hands flew to her face and she let out a
little yelp, then I began to swiftly bang into her, holding her chain,
pulling her feet close against my face.  I opened my mouth to lick her
feet, then started to gently bite them on the sides and the tougher
skin of her soles as I felt the cum boiling in my loins.  Sam started
screaming as she came, low throaty sounds of lust that echoed back to
me from the rocky cliff nearby, but I didn't care, so far gone was I.
I yelled loudly too as I came, my cum blasting into her again and
again, leaving my head spinning when I was done.  I slumped down over
her, her legs pressed down to her chest with my weight, our foreheads
touching, tremors racking us both.

I managed to roll off her and fall on my back onto the forest floor
with my arms and legs spread out.  My hand came down on the things I'd
dropped, and I felt the rubber gag under my knuckles.  I was vaguely
aware of Sam stretching her legs out and rolling over to put her hands
upon my chest.  I picked up the gag and held it near her face, her
intake of breath indicating to me when she'd managed to focus her eyes
on it.  I felt her move her hands to take the gag from mine and when I
turned to look she had it held in her mouth and was looking at me.  The
vision of her pretty face with the black rubber bar between her teeth
brought me back to reality quickly and I raised myself up to fasten the
straps around her head.  I gathered up her hair and had her hold it out
of the way, then I buckled the gag tightly in back of her neck.
Samantha tried to speak but only a garbled sound was heard.  She yelled
and the gag muffled the scream somewhat.  The two big rings of the bit
pressing slightly against her cheeks contrasted with the small silver
one through her nostril.  I moved close to kiss her, pushing my tongue
past the bit to feel hers trapped behind the rubber prison.  I liked
it.

I sat up and retrieved my shorts, pulling my watch from the pocket.  It
was going on to six o'clock.

"We'd better get a move on," I said.

It would be dark by ten, sooner if the cloud cover got thicker.  I'd
brought a flashlight but didn't think much of our chances of finding
the way out of the marsh in the dark.  I gathered up the towels I'd
brought and spread them over a nearby boulder, then went back to
Samantha and carried her over to it.

The rock was shaped a lot like a spanking bench, low and with a concave
top shaped to cradle someone's tummy nicely.  I leaned Sam face down
over the bolder with her feet just off the ground on one side and her
hands hanging down over the other.  Then I took the rope and threaded
it through her two bracelets, pulling the ends even.  I threw one end
around one side, laid the other end around the base of the stone, then
retrieved the end at the other side.  The two ends I tied together
around the chains at her feet.  The stone had a groove around the base
where it met the ground, so when I pulled the rope tight, it drew her
feet and her hands close to it with the rope slipping under the thicker
upper part, making it impossible for Sam to lift herself off it.  I
walked around to her head, and she turned her face up to me, drool
dripping from her gagged mouth.

"I've got to go find a nice stick to beat you with," I said.  "Don't go
away."

I picked up my shorts and put them on, then I picked up the flogger and
tossed it towards where Sam was tied.  I took the axe and I disappeared
into the woods.  First, I went to the boat and scanned the marsh to
make sure we were still alone.  I happened on the perfect stick lying
in the stream near the boat, soft and springy from soaking in the
water.  Then, quietly, I moved back to where I could sit on a fallen
tree and watch my pretty captive struggle.

I watched her for perhaps half an hour while I idly worked on the stick
with my knife.  She'd struggle to free herself a bit, then settle down
to wait.  Her hair, so lovely, but now a major annoyance, would cover
her face when she tried to look around, and I watched her thrash her
head to try, unsuccessfully, to dislodge it from her eyes.  Then she
would give up and settle down to wait for my return.

I watched her get more and more agitated until she began to make
noises, and then started screaming, the sounds a little loud, but there
was no one around to hear anyway.  She really began to thrash around
and I was almost going to run to her when I saw her body get all tense
and her hips push downward with her thighs clamped tightly together,
straining against her bondage, in the grips of a major cum.  Her high
pitched, keening wail echoed off the rocks as her orgasm blasted
through her, shaking her body against the stone until she slumped down,
spent, or so I thought.

Samantha was only still for a few seconds before I saw her start to
struggle against the bonds again, and I saw her quickly achieve another
frenzied orgasm.  Her cum seemed like it would never end and it was
then that I did rush to her to try to settle her down.  In her
struggles, if she was to sprain an ankle or wrist, wrapped in
unyielding steel, the situation could soon grow to an enormous problem
way out here.

I ran to her rock and held her head up to me so she could see me.  The
sight of her face gave me a start.  She looked like she had been crying
for a while now and her face and her hair were soaked with her tears
and slobber.  Being unable to properly close her mouth with the gag in,
her drool had run into her nose and must have been choking her.  She
was still shaking and screaming, her eyes unable to focus on me, her
orgasm unabated as I held her head and screamed her name over and over.
Then her eyes widened as she recognised me finally.

"Mfft.  Mfftr.  Viff ee!" she sputtered.

I reached for the buckle to her gag to remove it while wiping her face
with a corner of the towel.  The tension in her body dropped a notch
but she began to shake her head making it harder to ungag her.  At last
the buckle came free and I pulled the bit from her mouth.  Her mouth
was sore and her breathing laboured so I just stroked her for a moment
to let her catch her breath.  I was shocked again when she managed to
finally speak.

"Oh Master, that was fantastic," she said, smiling widely.  "Please
don't stop now.  I need it so bad.  Whip me.  Please?  Hurry?"

"You're all right?" I asked incredulously.  "It looked like you were
dying."  Her eyes had already glazed over.  I had just turned to pick
up the flogger I'd made when I heard her call again.

"Master?  The gag?"

I held her head once more.  "Yes, little one.  Thank you."  Brushing
all her hair over the top of her upside down head with my fingers was
easy and I pushed the bit into her eager mouth to buckle it tightly
once more.  Then I took up my flogger and began to lay it onto her
quivering flesh.  I began slowly, maddeningly lightly at first but soon
I was putting more and more effort into the strokes, hitting her from
shoulders to the soles of her feet, and everywhere in between.  That
ridiculous green flogger I'd made in ten minutes stood up surprisingly
well, turning out to be much more effective than I ever would have
guessed.  The fibrous leaves began to break down a little after several
minutes hard use, but they held together and actually became more
supple, allowing me to put more effort into the whipping, with the
strands striking her skin evenly and yet not causing any significant
damage.

I'd lost count of the number of orgasms she'd had, it was mostly one
long continuous one with peaks and valleys of shaking, moaning, and
squirting of girl cum from her swollen and grasping pussy.  When the
leaves of the flogger became too ratty to have much effect, I quickly
snatched up the stick I'd dropped and began to smack her with that,
mainly on the more cushioned skin of her bum, but the backs of her
thighs presented a nice target also.  Sam's previous moaning became
garbled curses, then screams, as the supple stick bit into her flesh.
Of course I kept my swings in check, never wanting to leave any serious
marks on her beautiful body.  Certainly, I would never forgive myself
if I marked her in any permanent way.  But I spared no effort in making
sure she experienced this session to the fullest, and that hopefully it
would be one to remember in a good way.

I don't know how long it went on, but finally I saw she'd had enough
and I stopped.  Her whole backside was more or less an even flaming red
colour, and there were long minutes listening to her sob while I waited
for her to calm down.  I undid her gag, but she had it clenched tightly
between her teeth, so I left her for a moment to check the marsh.
There was still no one around that I could see, so I went back to Sam
with the canteen of water.  She'd unclenched her teeth and the gag was
on the ground below her head.  I held her head up and dribbled some
water over her lips, then poured some in my hand to gently pat it over
her back.

After untying the rope holding her down, I gently worked on the muscles
of her legs and then her arms, before helping her off the rock.  She'd
been tied down tightly over the boulder for well over an hour, and was
stiff as well as sore from her ordeal.  But when I sat on the stone,
she moved a little to curl herself around my side, and looking up, she
smiled.

"Thank you master."

Those three little words and my heart soared, content that I had not
pushed her over the edge, that I had taken her there and brought her
back safely.

We stayed for about an hour longer as I held her and chased the bugs
off her.  I took a towel down to the water, and after rinsing her cum
from it, I took it back to lay its coolness on her burning hot back.
Later on, I helped her into her dress, then carefully picked her up,
got her settled into the canoe, and started on the trip back to camp.

From the cliff side I'd mapped out a more direct route back to the exit
from the marsh, and we made the beaver dam after only a half hour or
so.  There was a moment of anxiety when, after I'd taken Sam out of the
boat and had shifted it past the dam, her feet, where she was standing
in the water, had sunk down into the muck.  A branch or root or
something snagged on the chain around her ankles, and when I tried to
lift her she let out a squeal.  However, I reached down, managed to
untangle her, and got her settled back in the boat.  On the shallow
spots, I had to once again carefully lift her out of the boat and let
her stand in the water while I pulled it past, then go to her to carry
her back to the canoe.  It was only just beginning to get dark when we
reached the main river again, although there was still enough light
left for us to get back safely.  The wind was beginning to pick up a
little, and after I got us around the last dam, I buckled a life jacket
around Sam's middle.  She couldn't get her arms through with the chain
on, but it was better than nothing; if the boat would have tipped, she
would have probably sunk like a rock.

I handed her a less wet towel to cover her chained hands in case we met
someone along the way, then I leaned on the paddle to get us home.  Sam
had been in pretty rough shape when we left, but now that we were clear
of the marsh and back on the main river, she started to open up a bit.
She turned back and smiled sweetly at me.

"That was absolutely incredible back there, master.  Thank you."

"You don't have to call me master now," I reminded her, "Jim will do."

"I still seem to be your captive, sir," she said, wiggling her chains
and making them rattle.  I watched as she winced when her weight
shifted onto a tender spot.

"Are you very sore?" I asked.

Sam gave a little giggle.  "Oh yes.  I feel terrible, and wonderful at
the same time."

"Tell me about it, Samantha."

I'd asked her more to give her something to do, since we still had
about an hour left before we got back.  But then I sat spellbound as
she revealed to me her innermost feelings on what had transpired on
that hillside overlooking the marsh.  By the time she'd finished, my
erection was threatening to burst the front of my shorts.

"It was last night when you chained my hands together and then told me
you'd left the key back at camp.  I started to get scared in case
someone saw me like that, and then I started to get really scared,
especially after you locked me to the tree and I thought, 'what if
something happened to you and I'd be stuck there like that for God
knows how long.' But then everything ended up great and you got me back
home O.K.

"Last night in bed, I started thinking how hot I'd gotten chained up to
that tree, and I didn't really know why.  But I understand now, master.
It was partly the fear of the unknown, of what could have happened, but
didn't.  Fear of someone coming along and seeing me like that, too.
But mostly it was today, when you first chained me, when these locks
clicked closed and I knew neither of us had any way to get them off me.
I knew that I was totally in your power then, that I couldn't do
anything anymore without your help.  I couldn't walk; if you'd have
left me there, I could never have gotten out of that swamp.

"Then you gagged me and tied me down to that rock.  I couldn't move at
all, and I couldn't even yell for help, not that anyone would hear.  I
began to think that you had left me there all alone, and I really began
to panic.  I couldn't get free, and I could hardly breath, and then I
started to get so worked up that I just started cumming like crazy.  I
felt as though I would be there forever, chained down to that big rock
with a rubber bit stuck in my mouth.  I felt like I was floating away,
that there was nothing else around but me and that big rock I was
chained down to.

"It was beautiful, master, thank you."

I'd stopped paddling at some point and we'd been drifting with the
current while I listened to her.  I wanted to take her in my arms to
hold her close, but it would have to wait until later, when we reached
the campsite.  It was a while before I could speak again.

"Thank you, Samantha.  You are wonderful, more than I could ever have
hoped for.  I'm really glad you enjoyed yourself today."

"But master," she said, "You only got to cum once while I did so many
times.  You did all the work while I had all the fun, and now I can't
even help you row the boat."

I pushed us back into the middle of the river and got us going again.
"I usually come here alone," I said, "since my wife passed away.  It's
nice, a chance to clear my head.  But today, with you, it's like a
whole new world has opened for me."

"Did..." Sam began.  "Did you take Susan to the marsh?"

"She's seen it, but not to do what we did there.  She didn't like to do
stuff like that out in public.  We always kept the kinky stuff in
private, at home.  Even with friends like Mike, who knew what we were
up to, Susan was never comfortable admitting what we used to do in the
privacy of our house."

Even as I spoke, another canoe rounded a bend and passed alongside
ours.  Sam had seen them, an older couple with a big Husky dog between
them, and she just sat back on her heels to cover her chained ankles
with her dress while holding a towel over her hands.

"Evening," the man said.

"Might get some rain soon," I answered.

Samantha did look a little rough around the edges, and the woman in the
other boat picked up on it.

"You youngsters O.K.?" she asked.

"Wife got a little too much sun earlier on," I said.  "Her back's a bit
raw."

Sam managed to suppress her fit of giggles until the other canoe had
gone.  When she'd settled down, I told her that Sue would have been
mortified if some stranger had seen her chained up in a canoe and she
could never have gone through with what we did today.

Sam said, "I think most of the fun was never knowing if someone might
come along and see me like this.  I don't know what they'd do about it,
though.  Maybe run and tell the park rangers that I'd been captured by
a slave trader, and you were escaping with me in a canoe."

That absurd notion gave us both the giggles and I made various pirate
references until we made the end of the river and the lake opened
before us.  In the open water now, I could see far away lightning
flashing, and the low boom of thunder could be heard rolling around the
hills.

"Arrr, git the wimmin chained below, she be blowin' up a storm
tonight."

It was past nine when the canoe grounded out on the shore behind our
site and I had Sam stand in the water while I pulled the boat up onto
land.  I then took her in my arms and kissed her lovingly before
carrying her up and into the tent.  Setting her down on the bed, I
rummaged in my bag until I found her keys, then finally she was free.
Well, she still had her bracelets with the connecting chain on, but at
least she could move her hands apart a little more now.

"It's dark enough now," I said, "and I'd really like it if you left
these on for a while longer.  I'm starving, but I have to get the tarp
up before it starts to rain.  I can do it myself, but if you think
you're up to it, I could use some help."

"Just let me change and I'll be out in a minute," she said.

I opened the truck to pull out my big tarp, then I lowered the rope I'd
strung up earlier.  I was just spreading the tarp along the rope when
Sam came out of the tent.  She'd put on her jeans and her feet were
bare.  Over her shoulders was what could best be described as a poncho,
a woven blanket thing with a hole for her head.  It draped down over
her arms and covered her chained hands nicely.  She'd brushed out her
hair, and the whole effect was a kind of earthy, Native American girl
look, that forced me to stop working and just stare.

"Sam, you look great!" I said, standing there with my mouth open.  When
she came closer, I examined her more closely.  She had her tube top on
underneath, and the poncho had pictures of trees and animals of the
forest woven into the design.

"I like it," I told her.

We got the tarp up with little problem, and I set up the stove on the
table, then lit the lantern and set it on low.  I had a container of
frozen beef stew and one of spaghetti sauce, but we settled on the
stew, quicker and less fuss.  While Sam tended the pot, I went to the
canoe to gather up all the stuff from before, then turned the boat over
and returned.  I found the locks I'd used on Sam, and from the toolbox
in the truck, I got out a can of WD-40 and sprayed some oil into them
to drive out the water so they wouldn't get ruined.  Then I gathered up
stuff for dinner and set the table.  I had to move the truck so the
back was under the tarp, and we'd just started eating when the rain
began.  The stew, along with some bread and cheese, was helped along
with a bottle of nice wine.  I saw Sam squirming on the hard boards of
the picnic table, and with the rain pounding on the tarp over our
heads, I had to shout for her to hear.

"Are you O.K.?" I asked her.  "You're not too sore?"

"A little.  It's all right."

By the time we'd finished the meal, the rain had let up somewhat, and
after I gave the dishes a quick rinse, I gathered up some dry towels,
my soap and shampoo, and taking my big umbrella, we set off to the
washrooms.  The road was muddy and Sam stopped to roll the cuffs of her
jeans up a little, then I held her close under the umbrella as we made
our way to the showers.  Along the back of the washroom building was a
row of perhaps eight doors, each leading to a cosy little niche.  A few
of the rooms were occupied, but there was no one else around.  I opened
the door to let Sam enter, then I went in behind her, closed the door,
and turned the lock.

The shower was divided into an area to take your clothes off and
another where the shower was.  It was big enough for a mother to wash a
kid or two in there, so there was enough room for the two of us.  I
turned on the water and then helped Sam take her clothes off, hanging
them on the pegs on the wall.  Before Sam got under the spray, I
adjusted the temperature so the water was a little cool, better to
sooth her still burning back and bum.  With all the noise Sam liked to
make, fucking her was out of the question, since I could hear other
people in the rooms nearby, but I satisfied my desires of the flesh by
soaping her lovely body and mine, then rubbing myself all over her.
With my slippery hands, I massaged her tired muscles and soothed her
tortured skin until she was purring with contentment.  I washed her
hair and mine, I kissed her, and told her how much I loved her, in
hushed whispers in her ear.  She had me sit down on the cool tile floor
while she took my cock into her mouth and sucked on it until I blew a
big load of hot cum down her throat as the water splashed down upon us.

We must have been in there over an hour, and after we'd dried each
other off and gotten dressed again, we both felt a whole lot better.
We passed a few people along the road, and I saw a couple guys trying
not to be too obvious in raping Sam with their eyes.  With her hands in
chains hidden under her poncho and her radiant face beaming above, we
simply said hi and went our separate ways.  I felt pleased as hell in
having her all to myself.  At the campsite, Sam made us a pot of tea
and we sat in the screened front part of the tent long into the night,
eating cookies and drinking tea, talking.  Sam told me that she used to
wear the two steel rings on her wrists a lot before she had the chain
added to them.

"I really liked the idea of the chain connecting them at first, I saw
something exactly like this in some movie once, a girl in a harem I
think it was, but then I realised that it wasn't a very practical idea
after all.  I thought I'd like to wear them out in public, where people
would see it and think I was some kind of slave girl or something.  But
I began to realize that most people don't think like that, that it
would just be too weird for others to accept, seeing me with my hands
chained together.  I saw this poncho for sale at a flea market, and I
thought it might let me wear the chain outside, but every time I was
going to do it, I chickened out and didn't.  But out here where we
don't know anybody, it just seems right somehow.  I don't feel as
strange walking around like this as I would back home."

"Well, it is weird Sam, and it's too bad, because if it was just the
two of us, I would have you wear them all the time.  Straight people
just can't accept many of the things we like, the stuff we do.  Things
are getting a little better with bondage and S and M moving slowly into
the mainstream, what with movies and things you see on television
sometimes.  You're starting to see more of it around, and people are
finding out it's not so horrible after all."

"It was really nice, what we did in the swamp today."

"It was great," I said.  "But if someone had come along and wanted to
cause a stink, I could land in jail for doing that to you.  Even though
it was consensual, even if you said you liked it, they'd just think
you're nuts and then send you off to the funny farm."

"Mmmm, I wonder if they'd chain me up to my bed."

I laughed.  "I doubt it.  They'd probably make you wear a nice suit and
have you sit in an office all day.  Teach you to be Miss Prim and
Proper."

"Yuck!  I get enough of that working at the bank."

Later on, we went out to take a piss and look at the lake.  I could
still see lightning flashing around us, and the air was beginning to
have a definite chill to it.  We went back and I did a check of the
tent before we crawled into my big sleeping bag for the night.
Samantha was out like a light, and I lay next to her for a while,
feeling her warmth, and listening to her even breathing before sleep
finally overtook me.

I was awakened at some point by a loud rumbling of nearby thunder and
the pounding of rain on top of the tent.  I shone the flashlight around
our snug abode, but the water had not found its way inside.  Sam was
awake, touching me, looking lovely beside me, and we ended up making
slow, sweet love, her cries of passion matching the energy of the storm
as it passed over us.  We slept long into the grey morning, the pitter-
pat of water dripping off the trees a soothing background to the cozy
warmth of our little love nest.

Sunlight was breaking through the cloud cover when we finally went
outside to greet the day.  After a trip to the can, we got started on
making breakfast.  Sam wore her poncho with just a pair of shorts and
her chained bracelets underneath.  I had a flannel shirt and cotton
shorts.  It was cooler today than before, a definite change in the
weather after the storms of the night had passed through.  A good thing
too, the added clothing would cover the redness of Sam's back.  The
backs of her legs were reddened also, but it was fairly even and just
looked like a mild case of sunburn.  Some places on her back, and in
particular on her bum, there was no mistaking the fact she'd been
whipped and beaten with something.  Her bum had several raised welts
that were still quite tender, and there were some bruised purple spots
as well.

We both felt good, however, well pleased with the outcome of our foray
into the marsh, and we enjoyed a leisurely and hearty breakfast.

"If you feel up to it," I said, "we could paddle the other river today.
It's a long row but it's nice, no beaver dams to climb over."

"Sure.  Sounds good."

"Umm.  Do you think you could leave your chain on?"

Sam smiled wickedly.  "Do you think we can get away with it?"

"I don't know.  That cape covers it up nicely.  Put your bikini on
underneath, if it gets hot later, we'll go for a swim."

Sam didn't need to take her bracelets off, the swimsuit top had strings
that tied over the shoulder.  She untied them, then wriggled into the
suit and I helped her tie them back up.  She pulled her shorts back on
and I dropped her poncho over her head, then I brushed out her long
hair.  Sam cleaned up from breakfast while I made some ham sandwiches
and packed some cans of soda for our lunch.  I hung the wet towels from
yesterday over a rope between two trees, then got some dry ones out.
Down at the water, I got the canoe in and started loading things into
it.  Just before we set out Sam turned to me.

"Master," she asked.  "Could you bring a lock with you, just in case."

"I could do that.  The key too?"

Sam shook her head, no.  She must have had something in mind, but I
didn't ask.  I went to my bag and got a lock, made sure it worked from
its soaking yesterday, then left it open and dropped the key back into
my bag.

Before we finally got going, I rubbed some sunscreen on our faces and
legs, since the clouds had mostly disappeared.  Sam was able to paddle
quite well despite her hands being connected by her chain.  Alone, the
bracelets wouldn't look too unusual, and from afar, the chain between
them sort of blended in with the shaft of her paddle.  Not really, but
that's what I told her to bolster her will to be seen like that in a
public place.  Whenever another boat would come close, Sam simply
dropped her hands, resting the paddle across the front of the boat, and
the cape fell down to cover everything.  There was a bit of a head wind
that whipped Sam's hair around enticingly in front of me, and the water
on the open lake was a little choppy.  I asked her if she wanted to
wear the life jacket, but she said she felt comfortable with it nearby
where she could grab it in case we keeled over.

With her help paddling, it only took about an hour to reach the other
end of the lake.  There was a picnic area there off the main road, and
the other river was to the right.  I was bit surprised when, although
there were lots of people in the area, Sam just kept on paddling and
letting anyone who cared get a glimpse of her chain and bracelets.  I
was even more surprised, and I think Samantha was also, that no one
seemed to become too upset that I had a girl in my canoe whose hands
were in chains.  I saw a few people look, then look again, then just
turn away, sometimes smiling slightly, not wanting to bother us.  We
paddled along the river meeting other people, exchanging pleasantries.
When other boats did come close, Sam would lower her hands under the
cape and smile sweetly, leaving the people wondering if they had seen
right.  When we pulled into a quiet bay, she turned to me.

"People don't seem too bothered seeing me like this," she said.

"Maybe we haven't run into the right people yet," I joked.  "I've
noticed people come up here to get away from things, enjoy a change
from their hum-drum lives.  Even people in their air conditioned RV's
with the flush toilets like to think they're roughing it.  I've seen
some strange people here over the years.  People seem more likely to
let loose in the wilderness, and I guess as long as you're not being a
bother, any strangeness is a little more easily tolerated."

The river opened onto a small lake and another campground, the beach
crowded with lots of people and kids.  I asked Sam to keep her hands
covered for now, so we wouldn't upset folks, and I paddled over to a
sandy area on the other side of the lake.  We landed the canoe and
scrambled up the steep slope of loose sand to the top.  This was
another strange area, being mostly bare rock covered in patches of some
sort of lichen that felt rough under our bare feet.  What bushes were
there were small and stunted, growing in the sandy soil.  Despite the
heavy rains of last night, the area had a dry, desert quality to it.
We walked for a while and then sat down in the shade of a small tree.
Sam put her hands up over her head and around the base of the tree,
then clinked her two bracelets together.

I smiled.  "Not yet, my little minx.  Perhaps later we'll find a nice
secluded spot."

I slid my hands up under her cape and moved her bikini top up off her
tits.  Sam held onto the tree trunk and imagined her hands were locked
around it as I massaged her lovely breasts, tweaking her stiffened
nipples with my fingers.  I flipped her cape up and brought my face
closer to flick a nipple with my tongue, then I clamped my lips around
it and started to suckle on it.  Keeping an ear open for anyone coming
along, I sucked on her breasts for quite a while until she was
squirming her bottom around and making little contented noises.  I then
pulled away and sat up.

I grabbed hold of her chain and hauled us both to our feet.  Samantha
was visibly aroused and stood a little shakily.  Keeping her chain in
my hand, I led her back to the boat.  The campground beach was far
enough away that I felt unless someone was using binoculars, they
wouldn't be able to see us all that well, so I told Sam to take off her
poncho and her shorts.  I took off my shirt, took my shorts off, then
pulled on my swim trunks, giving anyone with the binoculars a nice view
of my naked ass.  Leaving our clothes in the boat, we waded out into
the warm water and had a lovely swim.

Sam could swim rather well with her chained hands, using a kind of a
dog paddle with which she was able to keep up with me pretty well.  I
came across a big rock in a little cove, partially hidden from the far
beach by the curve of the shoreline, that I was able to sit on with the
water just up to my neck.

"Hey," I called, "I found a nice chair."

Sam swam over and I turned her around to sit on my lap.  As she eased
her bum down on me, I pulled the crotch of her swimsuit aside and
guided my erect cock inside her.  I'd already had my trunks down around
my knees.  By holding around her waist and with the water taking away
most of her weight, I was able to slowly bounce her body up and down on
my cock in partial view of the people on the beach across the lake.  We
were far enough away that I felt nobody could really tell what we were
doing, and fucking in the open like that did lend quite a bit of a
thrill to it.

Sam started to make her usual noises, and I told her she'd better shut
up or I'd have to beat her with a stick.  I grinned when her horniness
doubled at that, although she did manage to put on a more innocent
looking demeanour.  We must have fucked there for twenty minutes before
I blew my load up inside her.  At times, when she was cumming hard,
she'd lean forwards to dip her head under the water and blow bubbles,
trying to mute her cries of passion.  So sweet.  I'd press her down
against me and molest her tits under her bikini top with my hands,
stretching out her peak, then continue moving her body on top of me,
stroking myself with her tight warmth.

When we were done, I floated Samantha off me and I pulled up my shorts,
then backstroked away from the rock.  I couldn't detect any unusual
commotion on the far beach, so I guessed no one had twigged to what we
were doing there for so long.  We waded onto the shore to dry off, Sam
throwing on her poncho again, then we got into the boat and took off.
The river continued past another bay with campsites all around, then a
long, fairly straight stretch, following the old railroad track.

Once past the campground, Sam just paddled normally most of the time,
only letting her cape cover her hands when another canoe came near.
She often didn't bother however, and let herself be seen by a number of
people, most of whom seemed unconcerned, or at least pretended
indifference.  We even went so far as to talk with a few canoeists,
with Sam rearranging her hair with her hands, the chain rattling and
sunlight sparkling off it and the shiny steel rings around her wrists.
Eyebrows were raised and the occasional comment was made, but her
unusual jewellery went largely ignored much of the time by the folks
who saw it.  Farther away from the campground, there were less people
about anyway, so it didn't matter as much.

We came upon a dam, a man-made structure that controlled the water
level in the lake.  After landing on the shore, Sam helped me carry the
canoe around and set it in the water on the other side.  We then
continued our paddle down the river.  I'd never gone past the dam, but
I'd looked at the map before, and the river continued on forever, one
of the main waterways of the old fur trapping routes, but I didn't plan
to go too much farther.

It was about an hour after the dam that I began to glimpse the high
rock face of a hillside through the trees.  I saw what appeared to be a
small stream leading off the main river and towards the hill, so I
turned the boat in and we proceeded slowly through dense bush along the
shallow creek.  After perhaps ten minutes, the water became too shallow
for us to continue, so we landed and I took our lunch bag, then we
continued on foot towards the hill.  We came upon a nice sunny clearing
near the base of the hill and sat down to have something to eat.
Samantha took off her cape, then, since it was warm enough in the
shelter of the hillside, she took off her bikini top as well.  Seeing
Sam's delicious body added a little something to the sandwiches, making
them seem to taste like the best ham and cheese sandwiches I'd ever
had.

After we'd finished eating, I gathered up the trash and left the bag on
top of a rock, then we hiked around the area a little.  Neither of us
had brought shoes, but the forest floor was mostly covered in dead
leaves, softened from the rain during the night.  Sam spotted it first,
and I followed her eyes to the side of the bare rock hill.  Up, about
ten feet high, a pathetic looking tree had taken root in a crack and
had grown there, its few branches reaching up towards the sunlight.

Under the tree, at the base of the nearly vertical rock face, was a
large flat stone a couple inches high.  Sam stepped up on the rock and,
turning to face me with her back against the cliff, she raised her
hands high over her head.  It didn't take me too long to figure it out.

"I'll go back to the boat and get some rope," I said.  "Wait right
here, I won't be long."

Along the way, I picked up the bag with the sandwich wrappers and empty
pop cans, then at the boat, I left the bag and took the rope off the
end of the canoe.  Sam was sitting on the stone platform, naked except
for her bracelets and the chain.  I sat down next to her and began to
thread the rope through one bracelet then the other.  I looped the rope
through each one three times, then tied a tight knot a couple of feet
along the long end.

Sam stood up under the tree, and after a couple of throws, I got the
rope over it.  Slowly, tantalizingly, I pulled on it to draw her hands
up over her head.  I watched the tree carefully, and I grabbed both
ends of the rope and tugged hard to make sure nothing would come
crashing down, but the tree was solidly imbedded into the cliff, and
satisfied, I pulled up the last of the slack to raise Sam's arms
straight up over her head.

A little to the left was a crack that I managed to wrap the rope
through and around so I could tie it off.  I then stepped back to
admire my naked girl chained to a rock.

"All we need now is a dragon," I said, in reference to the drawing
she'd given me.

Sam's eyes were beginning to glaze over as she began to pull and
struggle a bit.  I watched her put more of her weight on her arms,
testing her bonds, until her feet left the stone beneath her.  She
raised up her legs and hung free, swinging slightly, suspended from the
two bracelets around her wrists.

I went to her and held her to take some of her weight.

"Master, could you raise me up a bit higher?" she asked.

"No Sam, I don't think that's a good idea.  Your wrists are going to
get bruised if you hang like that.  Your bracelets aren't suspension
cuffs, a nerve or something could get pinched and cause you problems
later on."

She groaned in disappointment, but lowered her feet to the stone again.
I began to softly caress her body, letting my hands travel over every
inch of her soft skin, and paying particular attention to her breasts,
her stiffened nipples, and lower still, between her thighs.  Her
arousal was building and she was already quite wet there.  With the tip
of one finger, I traced around her clit, then began to gently rub it
with the pad of my finger.

She started trying to push herself against me, attempting to get a bit
more pressure against my fingertip, but I kept my touch maddeningly
light, letting her heat increase slowly and then keeping her just at
the edge for torturous minutes.  Sam had her eyes tightly shut, and her
face and chest had a crimson glow from her arousal.  Her legs had
seemed to have gone all rubbery, so most of her weight was supported by
her wrists, but a glance told me that the blood circulation was good.
At least her hands were still a healthy pink colour.  When she was just
about ready to cum, I withdrew my hands and stepped back off the stone
platform.

It took a while before she realized the stimulation she was enjoying
was no longer present; her twitching stopped, and her eyes opened to
see me sitting on a nearby rock watching her.  She took a few deep
breaths to calm down, then she spoke to me.

"Master, why did you stop?"

A valid question no doubt, but I still had to laugh.

"Why, to torture you, my dear," I said.

Sam hung red faced with her chained hands tied to a rock cliff.  Her
front faced me, and I realized that the colour no longer matched that
of her back.

"Would you like me to beat you, darling?"

The beginnings of a smile pulled the corners of her mouth.  She saw
where I was looking, at those lovely tits of hers.

"Well, maybe a little," she answered.

Sliding off my rock perch, I went to find a stick.  Using my knife, I
nipped off a thin branch from a small maple tree, then stood before my
squirming captive and let her watch me strip off the leaves and shoots,
scrape off the thin bark, leaving me with a nice straight, thin rod
about two feet long.  I smacked her left breast on the inside curve.

"Ouch!"

A narrow red line instantly appeared where I'd hit her, and while she
hopped from one foot to the other, I looked around for something to gag
her with.  My eyes landed on her swimsuit top on the ground nearby, so
I rolled the material into a ball and held it before her face.  Sam
obediently opened her mouth to let me pack the fabric in.

Shortly thereafter Samantha was riding the crest of an endorphin-
induced high once more.  How someone could derive such seemingly
euphoric pleasure from having pain inflicted upon them was something I
have problems in understanding, but the contented smile on Sam's lips
as I smacked her with my stick proved that it was possible.  During the
session yesterday, I'd been watching her closely for some sign that it
was enough, that I should stop.  Everyone has limits and I had searched
for hers, yet she'd taken all I had given her and I suspected that she
was even left wanting more.  There was, however, only so much that I
would ever be willing to give.

A moderate spanking, sure.  The whip?  Skilfully wielded is good too.
A thin, stinging stick like the one I was now using worked well also.
Start off slow, let the hurting build up, get those wonderful pain
killing hormones coursing through the bloodstream.  Stoke that fire,
make it rage.  She's there now, flying high, right out there.  Scale it
back a bit, keep it real.  Softer, more well places strokes, keeping
the edge keen, a careful balance on the knife edge.  A gentle uppercut,
and again, against her soft wet core, hard enough to feel, to know the
fear of what could be.  Hearing the stick contact her flesh and clink
against her rings in there.  Excellent.

Doms that complain of their arm getting tired don't know what they're
doing.  Or, perhaps, it was Samantha's willingness and responsiveness
that made it so easy.  I passed my hands over her breasts and down her
belly, not touching her, feeling the heat radiating off her.  Her eyes
were open, aware of me, seeing me.  Encouraging me.  Two quick, sharp
strokes on those two little nubbins sticking out at me.  Her eyes fall
shut and she trembles, adds to the puddle of girl cum on the stone
under her feet.

I let the session drag out, keeping her primed for long minutes,
slowing it down a little, letting her drop back a bit.  Then building
it up once more and making her hold onto the edge again.  Samantha was
loving every bit of it.  I could see it in her eyes when she looked my
way, raw passion unleashed.  I banked her up one last time, then went
to a nearby rock to perch my ass and just watch her twist and writhe,
undulating her body in a highly erotic fashion.  I twirled the stick
between my fingers while I watched her cum and cum.  Such a simple
thing, used the right way, releasing such a great amount of energy.
Several minutes went by while Sam came down from her rush.  I watched
her push the gag out of her mouth and let it fall to her feet, then
breath deeply, taking in a huge lungful of fresh air.  When she finally
became more aware of her surroundings, I went to her and put my arms
gently around her.  She tilted her head up and spoke softly in my ear.

"Oh, Master," she cooed, "that was wonderful."

She brought her foot up to rub my leg.

"Please fuck me Master," she said, "With me like this?"

I pulled my shorts down a little and my prick sprang free, ready.
Lifting one of Sam's legs, I gently inserted myself into her boiling
hot slit.  Sam brought her other leg up and around my hips, locking her
feet together behind me.  I held onto her thighs and pressed her back
against the stone cliff, then began bucking my hips and banging into
her.  She was sore both in front and in back, and I saw her wince from
time to time with the pain.  She was also exhausted, but I felt her
have two weak orgasms, her cunt muscles clamping down hard on my cock
each time.  I held her up as I fucked her, her weight off her wrists,
the rope slack.  I didn't try to prolong it, I was a little worried
about her wrists supporting her weight for all this time, and I was
soon able to blast an immense load of cum up into her grasping pussy.
I got an arm under her ass to raise her up a little, then stepped to
the side and reached for the end of her rope.  After getting it free
from the crack in the rocks, I carried Samantha over to a patch of soft
grass and carefully lay her down.  I untied the rope from her bracelets
and I told her to wait for me while I went to the canoe for the water
canteen.  Then, pulling my shorts back up, I left her there.  I had
thought I'd heard people coming and when I got to the boat, I could see
another canoe making its way up the little river.  Taking the canteen
and Sam's cape I hurried back to her.

"Someone's coming," I said to her, "try not to look like you just got
beat with a stick."

Sam put on her poncho and straightened out her hair while I gathered up
her bikini pieces, then we sat together sipping water to await our
guests.  We heard them long before we saw them.  Two kids, a teenage
boy and presumably his girl friend, came upon us sitting together on a
little patch of grass.  They both got nervously quiet when they saw Sam
and me.

"Hi," I said.

"Hello," they said in unison.

The two went past us and turned left to walk along the cliff.  If
they'd have gone right and stepped up on a flat rock there, they might
have slipped in a big puddle of cum.  I asked Sam to show me her hands,
and she brought them out from under her cape.  As I suspected, I didn't
like what I saw.  That's not quite true, a big part of me did like it.
From her hanging all her weight on her bracelets, her wrists looked
sore and would probably be quite bruised by the end of the day.  I felt
around under the steel rings and noticed her wince as I pressed a
little.

"You've gone and hurt yourself," I chastised her.

"It's not too bad," she answered.

"We'll see.  Come on, let's head back."

I steadied Sam as we walked back to the canoe and helped her get
settled in the front.  I paddled us almost to the main river, and we
had a swim to wash the dried up cum and sweat off us.  Sam found the
cool water soothing, so I let her soak for a while as I rubbed her
tired muscles and held her close to me in the water.  We then dried
off, dressed, and got going again.

Sam asked me if she could take off her bracelets and the chain for a
while, so I said yes and handed her the bottle of sunscreen.  I could
see her struggling and heard her moan in pain as she tried to work the
rings off her hands, and I told her to wait until we got back and I'd
try to help her.  At the dam there was no one around, so I had another
look at her hands.

She really had done herself an injury, and not only were her wrists
bruised from the strain of hanging by her bracelets, but her hands had
swollen up a bit too.

"Sam, you better leave these alone for a while until you heal a bit.
If you fight to try and get them off now, you'll just make it worse."
I didn't want to get her upset, but rather than a look of fear, I saw a
smile spread over her face.

"You mean I'm stuck like this?" she said, rattling her chain.

"Well, I guess you are.  For today, anyway."

I let her have a break while I carried the canoe and all the junk up
past the dam, then we settled in for the trip back home.  Sam helped me
paddle a bit, but when we reached the big lake, the wind was at our
backs and we mostly drifted back to the campsite.  It was past seven
when the boat touched shore behind the site, and the first thing I did
was lead Sam into the tent and give her a good rub down with my witch
hazel skin lotion.  I didn't think it would help, but I rubbed some
into her wrists, feeling the bones under her bracelets, making sure her
injury wasn't serious.

"There's nothing broken," I told her, "not sprained, I don't think.
Leave these on for now and we'll try to get them off tomorrow."

"Yes master.  Thank you."

We got dressed in long jeans and I wore a thick shirt, Sam, her poncho.
After a dousing with bug spray, we got started on supper.  I made a
fire in the fire pit, then set up poôs on the stove for the spaghetti.
While Sam tended the pots of sauce and noodles, I attempted garlic
bread on the fire.  Doing it in an oven under the broiler, the bits of
garlic stay on top where they're supposed to go, but when you do it
over coals in a fire pit, most of the garlic falls off and gets burnt
up.  The stench did help keep the insects at bay, so we were able to
enjoy the meal without having to swat at mosquitoes, and the bread
actually turned out O.K.

After we'd eaten and got everything cleaned up and put away, we took
cups of coffee and the lawn chairs down to the beach to sit and watch
the sun go down.  A peaceful end to a fantastic weekend.

"Oh, Jim," Sam said, "This has been such a lovely trip.  Thanks for
bringing me along."

"Lovely?" I asked.  "Your hands are stuck in chains, your skin has been
flayed off.  I'd hate to see you having a bad trip."

She laughed.  "You know what I mean."

"Sure.  It's been great having you along, Sam.  Things really worked
out well."

"Could we do it again sometime?" she asked.

"Do you have vacation time left this year?"

Sam told me she still had another week left.  I could pretty much take
time off anytime, the way my job is.

"It's really nice up here in the fall," I said.  "Less people.  When
the leaves start turning colours, it's really beautiful.  I usually try
for a week around the middle of September.  The weather sometimes
sucks, but at least there's no bugs then."

"Could you bring me along next time?"

I grinned.  "Gets pretty chilly at night.  Be nice to have someone to
warm up the sleeping bag for me."

We sat on the beach long after sundown, watching the stars come out,
then, later on we went back to our site to drop off the chairs and grab
soap and a towel.  At the washrooms it was busy, but we only had to
wait a few minutes for a shower room to be free.  I'd thought I heard
some chuckles when we both went in together and closed the door, but it
didn't matter.  Gently, I patted soap on Sam's tender skin and helped
her wash so she didn't have to rattle her chain too much.  We finished
up quickly and I dried her and myself off, then we got dressed and
left.

Back in the tent, I gave her a gentle rubdown with the skin lotion
again, and then we sat around the fire for a long while chatting like
long time lovers.  I'd only known this girl for a little over a month
now, and it was scary how well suited we were for one another.  Her
attitudes on a lot of things seemed more mature than her age would
indicate, and my being over ten years her senior never seemed to be a
problem for her.  As far as our sexual needs went, we both fit together
like two spoons in a drawer.  I felt happy when our conversation began
to edge around us having a more firm commitment to one another.

"Samantha," I said, "I know we've only known one another for a short
while now, but I want you to know that if you're open to the idea of us
living together, I'd be very pleased if you decided to move in with me.
You know I feel a completeness when I'm with you that I haven't had in
a long time now, and I think you feel it too; how good we'd be for one
another."

"I think I'd like that, Jim, but it's a big step for me.  I think I'd
like to, but I'm not sure if I can just yet."

"It would be a change, for sure," I said, "but it would be a change for
the better for me, being closer to you, having you with me.  As far as
your work goes, a smart girl like you could find something closer to my
home if you wanted to.  Or not.  It wouldn't be a problem if you chose
to stay home, I have enough that we'd manage just fine."

"It would mean giving up my independence," she said.

"I don't think not being independent is something you would miss very
much."

That one got her smiling.

"Think about it, Sam," I said.  "We've got all the time in the world."

Close to midnight, we took a walk down to the beach to look at the
stars once more.  With the cooler weather now, the sky was even
clearer, and the heavens were filled with tiny points of light.  As we
watched, a huge shooting star streaked bright, seemingly close,
breaking up in the thicker atmosphere into smaller pieces that twinkled
as they fell to earth.

"Make a wish," I said.

We held each other, cuddled and kissed long and with great passion.
Later on, in the tent after we'd undressed, I buckled the bit gag into
Sam's mouth and had her lay on her back.  I lifted up her feet and
pulled the chain between her wrists under her legs, then under her bum
so she was lying on it and her hands were pinned at her sides.  I
pushed my face between her thighs and feasted on her delicious pussy,
lapping up her bittersweet nectar each time it squirted from her
opening.  The gag actually did little to muffle her cries in the
silence of the campground, and each time she started making noise, I
just lifted my mouth off her and waited for her to quiet down.  She
quickly learned that if she wanted the stimulation to continue, she'd
better keep silent.

After that, I had her roll over onto her side and I snuggled up behind
her.  Taking her chain in my hand, I pulled her hands up behind her
back, mindful not to hurt her wrists more than they already were, and I
pushed my dick into her waiting pussy.  I hooked my fingers through the
strap of her gag with my thumb around her chain, and I held her firmly
like that while I slowly stroked my cock into her.  Samantha made me
proud as she managed to keep her silence through two more orgasms
before I let loose with a torrent of jism deep inside her.

I released my hand from her and unbuckled the strap of the bit gag,
then we just lay cuddled closely together until sleep finally overtook
us.  My cock softened and slipped out at some point, but I'd already
spread a towel under her before we had begun, so any mess wouldn't soak
into my sleeping bag too badly.

I awoke the next morning to find Sam's lovely rump pressed against my
side, my hand upon her hip.  She'd shifted one hand in front of her,
the chain under her waist, her other hand pulled behind her back and
touching me.  I woke her with a caress to her breasts, and she
struggled for a moment before she realised she was lying on the chain
connecting her hands.

"Morning, sweetheart," I said

"Mmmmm.  Good morning, master."

I unzipped the sleeping bag and helped her slip the chain over her
legs.  It must have been early, since there was little noise outside
and the light was still dim.  I found my watch and checked.  Five
thirty in the morning.

"Let's go for a paddle," I said.

After getting dressed, I made us some coffee and broke a piece off the
bannock, then we set out in the cool morning air.  Twenty feet from
shore, we were enveloped in the morning mist on the lake.  I paddled
through the thick fog, not knowing in which direction we were going,
then we drifted for a while and had breakfast somewhere out on the
lake.

All too soon, the sun burned away the mist and shapes began to form
around us.  We'd floated near to one of the islands.  I took Sam's
hands in mine to examine her wrists.  The swelling had gone down, and
she didn't wince so much when I prodded under her bracelets.

"When we go back we'll see about getting these off you."

"What time are we leaving?" she asked me.

"Afternoon sometime, I guess, why?"

Sam was looking at her chained hands.  "When did I put these on?"

I thought.  "Two days ago.  Mid afternoon?"

"Forty-eight hours," she said.  I felt her shiver a little.  "Wow.  I'd
never..."

I waited for her to continue.  When she didn't, I said, "You're great
Sam.  I love you so much."

She looked up.  "I love you too, Master."

When the mists had almost lifted, I dipped a paddle and took us back to
camp.

"Master?" Sam asked, "Could I leave these on till later, make it two
days even?"

"Sure, little one," I said, "Why not."

After a proper breakfast, we paddled across the lake and to the trail
we'd first taken on Friday evening.  Continuing past the spot of her
first punishment, we hiked up the hill and down the other side to the
next lake, not meeting with anyone along the way.  Sam had her poncho
on with nothing at all underneath, except for her bracelets and the
chain connecting them.  Stripping down, we had a nice swim, then sat
naked on the rocks on shore to dry off, before we heard people coming
and had to hurriedly dress.  Two men carrying a canoe came down the
hill and set their boat into the water near where we sat.  When they'd
gone, Sam let out a breath.

"You know," I said, "if you still want to come up here in the fall, we
could find a place where there would be no one else around."

The northern part of the park is a huge tract of wilderness accessible
only by canoe or on foot, I told her.  "The main canoe routes are
generally busy, but there's lots of side rivers and lakes that we could
take and not see anyone else for days."

Sam started to get a gleam in her eye.  "That might be fun," she said.

We walked back to the boat and I paddled back to camp, then we made a
start on taking everything down and packing up.  Sam made lunch, and
after eating, I got a bucket of lake water.  It was close to two in the
afternoon when I spread the last of the dish soap over her hands and
helped her work her bracelets off over them.  I watched her as she
helped me take down the tent and fold it up, keeping her hands close
together most of the time, a look of surprise coming over her when she
found herself with them far apart, reaching to do something.  After
having her hands chained for so long, she'd become used to being like
that, and found her freedom strange now.

It was with a little sadness, that I fired up the Jeep and we drove
slowly through the campground and out to the highway.  The roads got
wider and the traffic increased the closer we got to home.  I took us
into the city, and to Samantha's apartment building, parking in back,
carrying her bag up to her place.

"Stay for coffee?" she asked.

"No," I said.  "I'm going to stop in at the hospital on the way back,
see if there were any problems, then head home.  Thanks, though."

"Call me tonight?"

"Sure, Sam.  Thanks for a really swell weekend.  See you soon."

"Bye, Jim.  Thanks."

On the road again, the smells of camping fresh in the truck, cruising
under the shadow of the canoe on top.  Other drivers all seemed to be
in a big hurry as I breezed along in the outside lane.  At work there'd
been a minor problem, but my assistant had handled it.  Then on the
highway heading home, tunes on the radio, a big smile on my face.

[End of Chapter 2, The Ad.]		      dino@canoemail.com

The Ad: Chapter 3		(c) dino.  April 2000

Lightly proofed and edited by the reclusive Mike Ink.

My first camping trip with Samantha had been a wild success.  As I
unloaded the Jeep I thought back to those four days in the park, quite
pleased with myself having pulled it off and making it so enjoyable for
her.  Of course, I quite enjoyed our trip as well.  I left most of the
camping stuff in the garage, hoping to use it again soon, and after
cleaning out the cooler, starting some laundry and fixing myself a bite
of supper, I sat down to eat and go through my messages.  A couple were
from work, asking if I could put in an appearance, one was from my
buddy Mike.

"Hey Jim, where'd you go?  Called a couple times now, just get this
dopey machine.  I'd like to get together for dinner sometime, see that
pretty girl of yours again.  Give me a call.  Bye."

I picked up the phone and called him, but he must have been out, or
busy, and I got his machine.

"Hey Mike," I said.  "Just got back from an awesome camping trip.  Call
me tomorrow sometime."

I did some more cleaning, another load of laundry, and sat down to
answer some e-mail.  Around ten, I called Sam.  "Hi honey, did I wake
you?"

"No," she purred.  "I've been waiting for your call."

"How are you feeling," I asked.  "Still sore?"

"Ya, a bit.  It's these bruises on my wrists that are bothering me the
most.  Might be a few raised eyebrows at work tomorrow."

"Sorry, Sam," I said.  "I shouldn't have let it go so far yesterday."

"Oh Jim, it's O.K.  It was great, having you tie me up to that cliff
like that.  Really nice."

Samantha tied up to that tree sticking out of the rock face, her arms
stretched high over her head, sunlight gleaming off her bracelets.
That lovely vision would be etched in my mind forever.  "I've got a
blouse," she told me, "with sleeves that are a little too long.  Should
cover things up enough so people don't ask too many questions."

"You're great, Sam," I said.

"You're wonderful too, Jim," she answered softly.

"Sam, you remember my friend Mike, from the nightclub a couple weeks
ago?"  When she said she remembered him, I continued.  "He left me a
message, wants to have us over for dinner sometime.  Want to go?"

"Sure, I'd love to."  There was a pause, "Will the twins be there?"

"I suspect so.  Do you like German food?  They probably do the cooking
for him."

I told Sam I hadn't talked to Mike yet and would let her know later on.
She sounded enthusiastic about it, though.  We chatted a little longer
before saying goodnight and ringing off.  All in all, despite
everything that I'd put Sam through on our weekend in the bush, I was
left with the impression that she'd had one of the best weekends of her
life with me these past few days.

Monday morning I started work with a new client who needed a web site
made up.  He'd sent me a rough idea of what he wanted and had attached
some sketches of some artwork he liked.  He needed someone that could
bring his ideas to life.  It was to be an adult oriented site.  Looking
at the crude drawings he'd sent me, I saw his artistic talents were
about as good as mine.  Nil to none.  But I could begin to see an
outline of what he had in mind.  Samantha's talents ran closely along
the lines of what would fit, and I forwarded the sketches along to her
with a note asking if she could improve on the fellow's ideas.  Around
noon, Mike called.

"So Jim.  How'd the 'camping trip' go?"

I could hear his joking sneer over the phone.  Mike wouldn't be caught
dead in a mosquito-infested forest; he went first class all the way.  I
think I managed to sway him a little, as I let out a few juicy details
about my weekend with Samantha.

"No shit, Jim?  So how'd it go?"

"Fantastic.  No major problems at all."

Mike wanted us over at his place Friday night, for dinner.  I asked him
if the twins were cooking.

"You want authentic German food?" he asked.  "Liselle makes a
sauerbraten that's to die for.  See you both at seven, I want to hear
more about this trip you two had."

Around one in the afternoon I decided to call it a day and took lunch
outside in the back yard.  Later on I did some housework, then called
in at the hospital, and got sucked into a meeting next morning.  After
I thought Sam would be home, I called her.  I told her dinner at Mike's
was set for Friday and she asked me what she should wear.  "Wear
anything you'd like," I said.  "Clothing is usually optional at his
place anyway."

I said to Sam that I'd told Mike a bit about our trip.  I heard her
pause, as I expected she would, with the thoughts of someone else
knowing what went on in the woods those days.  "It's O.K.  Sam," I
said.  "Mike knows the score.  We'll probably hear some of his stories
that'll make your toes curl."

"Well, all right," she said.  "If you think it's O.K., then I don't
mind if he knows about it."

I told her about the sketches I'd e-mailed her and asked if she wanted
to try to improve on the guy's ideas a bit.  "Maybe take a couple and
work them up a bit, just a quick thing, something I can send him and
see if he likes it.  Might be a few bucks in it for you."

"All those years taking art courses finally might pay off?"

"I don't know.  Might be a chance to show off a little.  Your work is
really good, Sam.  Other people would think so too, I'm sure."  I told
Sam I'd see her for dinner the next day since I'd be in the city
anyway.

The meeting at the hospital dragged on almost all day and I met her
outside the bank where she worked in the late afternoon.  It was great
to see her again, and after she got into the truck, we kissed
passionately for a moment before I drove off.  At a stoplight, I took
her hand to look at her wrist, at the bruises from her ordeal in the
woods.  They were beginning to fade a bit now, yellowing around the
edges, less purple than before.

"They got me working in the back," she told me, "going through some
records, so nobody has bothered me about them yet.  Nice colours,
though."  She pulled up her sleeves to show me.

"I think we'll try not to let that happen again," I said.  We found a
good fish and chips shop to have dinner in.  Over the meal, I told Sam
a little about my friend Mike.  Mike Barrett studied law at school, but
never went as far as to pass the exam.  At the age of sixteen, he
received a modest inheritance from his grandmother.  Rather than
fritter it away, as most teenagers might do, he started making
investments.  First in stocks, picking a fledgling company seemingly at
random, then watching it take off.  After building up his funds this
way, he moved on to property.

He managed to get in just as the market for real estate was beginning
to grow.  He'd buy a piece of property, or a house or two, then, a year
later he'd unload it at double, sometimes triple what he'd paid for it.
At the tender age of thirty, Mike retired.  His house, in the posh
forest hill area, is said to be valued at close to ten million.  His
legal knowledge allows him to maintain his investments in such a way
that he would never have to work again, if he didn't want to.

"Mike has an interesting sideline," I said to Samantha.  "Remember
Kate, from the bar?  Mistress Natasha.  There are at least a dozen
women like her in the city who run a business where men can go and get
dominated.  But there are not many places that a woman could go to
receive that kind of service.  Say a professional woman, someone of
importance.  A woman in a powerful position, a public figure.  She
couldn't go cruising bars, hoping to bump into a dominant male who
would be willing to fulfill her fantasies and keep quiet about it.  So
Mike provides a service to women who want to be dominated for a while,
to live out a fantasy for a short time, then go back to their regular
lives."

"You're kidding," Sam asked, "Master for rent?"

"Pro-Dom.  Really.  He gets a booking maybe once or twice a month.  All
very professional, very discreet.  He's told me the money's sometimes
fantastic, and of course the work's not that hard.  We'll get him
talking when we see him.  The stories he tells are truly wild."

"How do people hear about him?  Does he advertise?"

"Word of mouth," I said.  "Mostly.  I did a page for him on the net.
Sort of cryptic, but if someone was looking for that sort of thing,
they'd understand.  He doesn't name names, but he's told me some
things.  You would be shocked to hear some of the women who've used his
services."

After our dinner, I took Sam home, to her apartment.  I wasn't going to
go up, but she insisted.  Not that strongly, but I couldn't refuse.
First we had coffee, then I asked to see her marks from the whippings,
to see how well they were healing, you know.  Then, when she was naked
and standing before me, I began to touch that lovely body of hers that
I now knew so well.  One thing led to another.  And that led to
something else.

It was close to midnight before I got out of there, us both feeling
quite satisfied.  Sam's case of "sunburn" looked still very red, but
she wasn't hurting as much any more, at least.  Her bum, where I'd
whacked her the most, was rather colourful with the lines and bruises.
I knew she'd derived much pleasure from the three sessions during the
trip, but seeing her all marked like that made me feel kinda low.  If
her beautiful skin didn't regain its former unmarred glory, I would
never be able to forgive myself.

Friday evening I picked her up for our dinner date at Mike's.  She came
out wearing a slinky little black dress, short.  Bare legs and strappy
high heels completed the outfit.  She'd done her hair in a long braid
down her back.  As we walked down the hall to the elevator, I fell back
to watch her braid swish back and forth as she moved, the end gently
patting each cheek of her bum, curling underneath, caressing her.

Samantha was suitably impressed as I wound through Mike's neighbourhood
with its huge mansions, high stone walls, and professionally manicured
gardens.  The ornate iron gates to his driveway stood open and I
wheeled in to park in front of the house.  Pretty much only the
exterior of the place remained original, with the grey granite stone
towering three stories over us as we walked up to the door.  Mike had
picked the place up for practically a song back then, back taxes owing
or something like that.  The house needed work, and work it had got.
The inside had been completely redone with only the outside reminiscent
of thirteen thirteen Mocking Bird Lane, right down to the door
knockers; big brass rings held in the mouths of ghouls' faces.  Rather
than Herman Munster, we were greeted by Lisa, or Liselle, one of the
twins, and shown inside.

"Good evening Sir, Madam.  Would you like to follow me, please." It was
Lisa.  I'd read her name engraved on her collar.  She was wearing an
outfit straight from a German beer garden, almost.  I didn't mind
following her at all, when she turned around I saw that the outfit was
backless, held on her by thin straps at the neck and around her waist.
Samantha's stilettos echoed on the marble floor.  Mike knows me all too
well, my tastes.  Lisa was barefoot.

We passed through the house and into the library, where our host sat
with Liselle, dressed the same, cuddled close beside him.  They stood
when we entered the cosy room and Mike came to greet us, shaking my
hand warmly, his eyes on Samantha.

"Great to see you two again, come, sit down."

I took a chair near Mike; Sam sat on the sofa, while the twins fixed a
round of drinks.  They passed out the glasses and sat with Sam, one on
each side of her.  The twin's fair complexion and blond hair contrasted
with Samantha's dark brown hair and her skin, which was slightly tanned
from our recent trip.  The talk was general, but not for long.

"So," Mike said, "Jim told me a little about the trip you two had last
weekend."  He speared Sam with those black eyes of his.  "Tell me
more."

Mike would have been a great lawyer if he'd gone on with it.  He was a
good friend, kind as well as generous.  But he had a force within him,
a driving force that, when he cranked it up and directed it at someone,
you'd become powerless to resist his will.  I'd seen him with a car
salesman once, by the time he'd finished, the guy was almost willing to
pay Mike to take the car away.

Sam started talking about the trip, the nice weather, the swimming at
the waterfall.  Mike was using that voice of his, asking questions,
directing her thoughts.  I could feel Mike's dominant force field
beginning to envelope everyone in the room.  The twins had sensed it
first, looking towards their master, becoming alert for changing moods.
Samantha had dropped into submissive mode, hearing the power in Mike's
tone, feeling it somewhere deep inside of her.  She filled in a few
more details about the trip.

"And what happened next, Samantha," Mike prodded, or, "How did you feel
when..."

Mike looked at me a couple times, getting permission to continue the
interrogation.  I was going to put a stop to it, let Sam off the hook,
but I saw she was getting into it, re-living those hours of such
intense passion that we'd had, and I let it continue.  The twins were
starting to get hot too, hearing Sam tell what went on in the marsh, on
that cloudy afternoon.

"What were you thinking about when Jim left you alone tied over that
boulder, were you frightened?"

Samantha revealed, speaking as if in a dream state, her most private
feeling about what she'd experienced during our trip, thoughts that
even I didn't know she'd had.  Mike was in full Dom mode, in control.
Sam had been more worried about the bears than I'd thought, she told
us, and about being seen in bondage in a public place, that had turned
her on plenty.  Mike looked my way again and I made the kill sign,
enough.

In a lighter tone of voice he spoke, collapsing the field that had
gripped Samantha.  "Well it sounds like you two had a great time."
Just like that, we were back to five friends having a nice before-
dinner chat.  Sam popped back into the here and now, seemingly unaware
of what had just taken place.  Mike asked his girls to see to dinner
and graceful as always, they stood and headed for the kitchen.  I
crossed over to sit on the couch with Samantha.

"You know," I told Mike, "we might take another trip up north this
fall, spend a week in the wilderness.  You and the girls should come."

Mike declined, as I knew he would.

"Sleeping on the cold ground?  No thanks.  I'll stick to my nice warm
bed and the well-stocked fridge.  Sounded like you two had fun,
though."

Mike started telling us about a job he did for someone recently.  This
past weekend he'd had a client, a well-known Hollywood actress, he told
us.  It wasn't too long before we were called to dinner by the lovely
Liselle, and we were seated at Mike's big oak dining room table as he
continued the tale.  The twins took turns serving while we listened to
Mike's latest escapade.

"She flew in from L.A. last Friday," Mike said.  "Wanted a rape scene.
Money was no object, she'd told me, so I kinda went all out.  I set it
up like she was a tourist in another country, China, since I could use
the Chinatown area as a backdrop.  Hired a limo with an Asian looking
driver, two Asian girls from an escort service as maid and cook,
housekeeper, like that.  Guy picks her up at the airport, drives her
through downtown.  Then here.  Did the house up like a high-class
hotel, rented a big desk for the lobby and everything.

"So she spends the night here.  I didn't tell her when it would happen,
and she said that had been a big part of the excitement.  Next morning,
Saturday, she has breakfast here, then the driver takes her back to
Chinatown.  He knew the area well.  Took her around, did some shopping,
had lunch.  Only a couple people recognized her, she said, so she
wasn't bugged by fans.  You know the area, just like being in downtown
Kowloon.

"Comes back here late afternoon, has dinner.  I told the crew to split
around eight.  The girls and I were here, waiting for the right time.
Around nine we sneeks down the back stairs and into the kitchen, like
we broke in the back door.  I had a window I'd pulled from someone's
trash, spent enough already, I wasn't gonna bust one of mine.  So we
make a big noise, smash the glass.  Client comes runnin' down and into
the kitchen.  Lisa snaps on the lights, and that's when I grab her.

"I let her get a good look.  I'd dressed up like a girl's worst
nightmare straight from hell.  Had the twins wearing black cat suits,
pointy ears and all.  I spin her around and cuff her hands behind her,
then stick duct tape over her mouth.  The walls are thick, but I don't
take chances.  Last thing I need is attention being drawn here.  Not
just for me, but for the client's sake too.  Anyway, the girls and I
haul her upstairs to her room.  We blindfold her and get her naked,
tied spread eagle, face down on the bed.  Then I let the girls have a
go while I sat and watched.

"These two lovelies," Mike bowed to the twins in turn, "really gave the
client a run for the money, surprised even me.  The lady said she
wanted it rough, and rough she got.  When the girls were done, it
became my turn.  The lady had chewed through the tape gag by this time,
but her face was in the pillow so it didn't matter.  Lisa greased her
ass, and my cock, then I gave it to her.

"If I told you her name you'd say, "No way, Mike!"  You can never tell,
the people into this kind of stuff.  I pounded her bum for maybe twenty
minutes before we flipped her over and I fucked her cunt.  The girls
were all over her too.  She was too weak to struggle much by then."

I watched Sam listening attentively as Mike finished the tale.

"When I was done I cut the ropes and we disappeared.  We were upstairs
in one of the rooms and I had a camera mounted in her room with a
little monitor to make sure she'd be O.K.  She got herself untied, then
just lay there for a while with this big smile on her face.  She took a
shower, then passed out for the rest of the night.  I could hear her
breathing so I knew she was all right.  Next morning we all met up over
breakfast downstairs.  The lady was very satisfied with the service
we'd provided and I drove her to the airport in the afternoon.

"So that was that," Mike finished up.  "The client was quite pleased
and said she'd call me again sometime.  She said she might have some
friends to send my way too."

"Wow!" Sam said

"Nice work if you can get it," I said.

"Tough job, but somebody's gotta do it," Mike added.

The meal was superb, starting with a delicious chicken soup, followed
with Liselle's famous sauerbraten beef and melt in your mouth potato
dumplings.  A light salad followed, then dessert, a nice, flaky apple
strudel.  After dinner, we retired to the living room for drinks and
coffee.  Sam kicked off her shoes, the twins, after cleaning up, joined
their master naked, kneeling beside his chair.  Sam and I cuddled on
the comfy sofa, the atmosphere of the room, relaxed.

"So, Jim," Mike asked, "This canoe trip in the fall, any plans?"

"Well," I said with a grin, "the trees are lovely that time of the
year.  We might collect colourful leaves and make a scrap book."  Sam
gave me a playful elbow in the ribs.

"If you don't mind me saying," Mike said, "Samantha, I have a feeling
it was the part about being chained up and helpless that seemed to turn
you on the most."

Sam thought for a moment, then said, "I liked it a lot when Jim would
start smacking me with something, but I don't think I'd enjoy it for a
whole week.  I'm still pretty sore in spots."

Mike suggested, "Why not try for a period of time in permanent bondage
of some kind.  Something that you could move around in, but can't get
out of."

"I'd been thinking along those lines," I said.  "The whippings went
well, but I can't do that very often.  Seeing your skin marked up like
that, Sam, after I was done, it just didn't seem right."

"These two," said Mike, patting the heads of his girls, "like to tie
each other up.  Once, I came home from a trip and they'd chained
themselves up in the dungeon.  They'd been stuck like that for two
days.  I warned them that if I had been delayed for some reason, they
could have been in big trouble.  Liselle here has spent thirty days in
the cage once, Lisa nearly twenty."

"The cage?" Sam asked.

"Downstairs," Mike said.  "In the dungeon.  Would you like to see it?"

I've seen Mike's secret room downstairs, a true work of art.  Built
when the conservatory was replaced at the back of the house, a huge
excavation, and solid foundation for the greenhouse above.  Lisa led
the way to the door in the hallway, downstairs, and through the rec
room with the big screen TV and the state of the art music system.  On
the far wall, a classic piece of engineering.  Lisa tilted one lighting
fixture on the wall, Liselle did the other.  A center panel dropped
inwards, then was slid aside on noiseless runners.  Five more steps
down to a heavy wooden door, banded with old looking iron straps.  Mike
took a large key down from a hook, fitted it into the door, and turned
the lock.  Lisa went inside to switch on the lights.

This was no cold, damp basement room.  The floors were dark stained and
highly polished hardwood, the concrete walls faced with reddish
coloured brick.  Heavy iron staples protruded from the walls in various
places.  The ceiling was the cement slab of the greenhouse floor,
painted black.  Pot lights shining downward gave the impression that
the height of the room was much greater than the actual eleven feet or
so.  The air in the room was warm and smelled fresh, inviting.  A rack
on one wall held articles, ready for use.  Mike had a few nice pieces
of furniture, some looking new, some, ancient, but in perfect
condition.

I let out a surprised snort when I realized that there were two of a
few pieces: two padded benches, two St. Andrews crosses mounted side by
side.  Mike caught me looking.  "Yes," he said, "I added a few things
for the twin's enjoyment."  I could picture it; the padded sawhorses
were placed end to end so the girls could watch each other as Mike
worked on them.

I took Sam's hand as we walked through the room.  I could feel the
tension in her.

"This room is amazing," she said.

"Anything worth doing is worth doing to excess.  Right Jim?"

"And why not?" I answered.

The cage stood, or rather, squatted in one corner.  Low tempered glass
panels surrounded an area with the bare concrete floor showing.  The
cage was formed from square steel bars, about an inch in thickness and
spaced perhaps six apart.  The dimensions of the cage looked to be a
little under three feet wide, three feet high and four feet long.  It
was solidly bolted to the cement floor and a piece of carpeting on the
bottom provided meagre comfort for an occupant.  Samantha stood
transfixed, staring at the thing.

"It's perfect for long term use," Mike told us.  "Things can get messy
after a while but there's a drain and a hose for washing everything
down."

A small table nearby held several attachments; shackles and bars that
could be clamped to the sides of the cage.  Lisa opened the end of the
cage, Liselle stood near Samantha.  Sam looked like she wanted to say
something, but was hesitant to do so.  I gave her the push that we were
all waiting for.

"Would you like to try it out?" I asked her.

She smiled.  "Yes, please."

Liselle, speaking without permission, but Mike let it slide, suggested
that Samantha take her dress off before entering the cage.  "Yes," I
said, "You'd be more comfortable and your dress wouldn't get all
wrinkled."

I lent a hand, pulling down the zipper and helping her off with her
dress.  She wasn't wearing a bra, but had black panties on.  Sam caught
my look, then bent to remove them, giving the twins a look between her
legs.  Liselle noticed them first, Samantha's labia rings.

"Master!" she exclaimed to Mike, "She h..." Liselle caught herself, but
it was too late.

"What?!" Mike snapped out, now annoyed with the girl's impertinence.
Mike moved closer, but when he caught sight of Sam's rings his mood
softened.  He looked a little closer while Sam stood red faced.

"Very nice, Samantha," he said.  Then, speaking to the twins, "Girls.
Prepare the captive."

Steel shackles were expertly applied to my Samantha's wrists and ankles
by the eager twins, as she stood, trembling slightly from the
excitement that had built up in the room.  Lisa helped her to kneel and
crawl into the tight confines of the steel cage.  Sam's arms and legs
were positioned within, her arms to her sides and her knees under her
chest, then the shackles were clamped to the bars.  The door was swung
shut with a loud and final sounding clang.  Mike stepped towards the
cage.

"There are several other attachments," he informed Samantha, "that go
with this apparatus."

He picked up a bar from the table.  Mike looked towards me before he
began, seeking my approval to touch his cage with its precious
contents.  I smiled, and he continued demonstrating the effectiveness
of the device.  He slid the bar into a bracket in the side, under
Samantha's elbows and over her back, pinning her arms firmly in
position.

"There's a bar with a penis gag for the front," he explained to Sam,
"and a similar one for the rear."

Mike slid a bar in behind her, just under her bum, just barely touching
her.  He smiled.

"Those rings of yours could come in handy here," he said to her.  Mike
reached into the top of the cage and lifted Sam's long ponytail out
through the bars.  He wrapped it around a bar, drawing Sam's head up a
bit.

"Very nice," he murmured.

I watched the twins watching Samantha inside the cage.  I could see
that they knew all too well what Sam was feeling right now.  Sam had
been in the cage only a few minutes now, but already I could see signs
of her arousal.  Mike had said that Liselle was in there for a month
once.  I asked her if that was thirty days without a break.

"Yes Sir," she stated.

"The full deal," Mike said proudly.  "We only took out the gag bar so
she could eat."

I asked her, "How was it, Liselle.  Did you enjoy it, all that time?"

"Yes Sir.  I was very aroused most of the time.  But I was quite sore
at the end, from being cramped up in there."

Mike said, "Lisa tried it but her feet kept cramping and causing her
awful pain.  She's been doing leg exercises though, and is looking
forward to breaking her sister's record."

We left Sam in there for a few minutes longer, then I opened the cage
and the girls helped to release her.

When she was freed and she'd dressed again, she turned to Mike.  "Thank
you sir.  I enjoyed that."

"We'll have to have you back someday," he said.  Have the girls give
you the full treatment."

We left the dungeon to head back upstairs for a nightcap.  I don't like
to drink when I'm driving, but I had a small one.  The evening had gone
so well that it called for one.  Mike raised his glass and we toasted
the three lovely girls.

Later on, Sam and I said our goodbyes and we left Mike's house.  When I
pulled out onto the street I asked Sam if she'd like to go to my place.

"But I don't have anything to wear," she said with a grin.

"I think I could find you something," I answered.

"Your friend Mike is quite the character."

I laughed.  "Isn't he, though?  How did you like his dungeon?"

"It's gorgeous," she said.  "That cage was something else.  Imagine
spending a month locked up in there?"

"Tell me, Sam."

She was silent for a moment.  "I was only in it for a short while.  But
I felt so, so held, you know?  Like a big hard hug.  Mike slid that bar
under my elbows and everything seemed to get tighter all over.  When he
put the other bar in, behind me?  I nearly came right there.  It was so
awesome, thinking of being like that for hours, days."

Doing what, I thought to myself.  Wouldn't it get kinda boring?  "Would
you like to try it for longer sometime?"

"Oh yes, Jim," Sam said.  "If your friend doesn't mind, I'd like that."

"I'm sure he could "fit you in" someday."

It was late when we got to my house but we weren't tired, so I made
some tea and we sat and talked.  We started to discuss the upcoming
trip we'd planned, what we'd do.  Mike's suggestion for some kind of
long-term bondage seemed like something Sam would like to do, and it
would be something that I'd enjoy a lot too.  I asked her how she felt
about it.

"Last weekend on the trip, when you'd lock chains on me and the keys
were back at camp, it was nice.  Neither of us could get me free then."

"I've got those leather cuffs," I said, "but I could cut them off you
if I wanted to.  Something more permanent would be good, I think.  We
could go in the north end of the park this time, there's nothing but
wilderness there.  Miles of it.  If we take a side route, we'd probably
not see anyone else for the whole week.  Find a little island out on a
lake someplace, call it home."

I had Sam get undressed and we went down to the basement.  In a box in
the workshop, I found some lengths of chain and a few locks and we
spent some time trying different ways of chaining Sam up.  The most
obvious place to start was with her hands chained with a bit over a
foot of chain between, like those bracelets she had.  I found a piece
of chain the right length and put it around one wrist, then locked it
on her.  I did the same with the other end.

"That's sort of like those bracelets you have, except you can't get
this off," I said.

A good start, but I felt more was needed.  I pulled out another length
of chain and found two more locks.  This one went around her ankles,
again, a little over a foot of chain between her feet.  I'd sat Sam on
the workbench to do this, and I lifted her down to let her stand.  She
walked around the room a bit, the chain tinkling on the floor.  I tried
a couple pieces of chain of different lengths to determine what worked
best.  She went up the stairs, came back down, I made it shorter and
she tried it again.  When we were both satisfied, I took some
measurements, marked a couple links with black tape, and we called it a
night.  Sam did have a bit of difficulty negotiating the stairs on the
way up since the chain between her ankles was rather short.  I'd
settled on just under ten inches.  But I told her there'd be no stairs
in the bush.

"Besides," I said, "if there's too much chain dragging, it'll get
snagged on roots and rocks as you walk."

The chains didn't match and the locks were awkward, banging around
against her anklebones, but I told her I'd go to the hardware store on
Monday and find something nicer.  I already had something in mind, and
seeing Sam ahead of me, shuffling down the hall to my bedroom, I was
pleased with the effect.  After we'd finished in the bathroom, I undid
her braid and brushed out her lovely hair, then we went to bed.  Her
chains presented little impediment to a wild session of lovemaking.  Me
on top was no problem.  Her straddling me with her feet pulled close
together and the chain tight across my thighs was a bit awkward, a
little painful for her too.  We switched back again to her on her back,
me on top, her feet on either side of my waist and the chain stretched
across my tummy.  Sam's third orgasm managed to trigger mine, and I
relaxed down on her as I blasted a big load inside her, crushing her
knees into her chest, my face inches from hers, telling her how
wonderful she was.

I remember hearing Sam's chains rattling when she went to the bathroom.
A dull sounding clanking.  Either a bright tinkling, I thought, or
hardly any noise would be better.  I must have heard her come back
because it stuck in my mind, being able to hear her moving would be
best, and a gentle tinkling, as of silver bells would be nice.  Sleigh
bells?  Ponies?  Sleep took me into its gentle embrace.

When I woke the next morning it was to the sound of birds twittering,
or so I thought.  A gentle tinkling sound in my ears, and something
else, a nice feeling.  I opened my eyes to see Samantha sitting on the
bed, her hands on my cock, gently stroking it.  Her chain was clinking
on my belly.

"Morning, master," she said, "did I wake you?"  With her sweet pale
blue eyes full upon me, she lowered her head to take my length into her
mouth and begin licking and sucking on me.  I moved my hand to feel her
leg, sliding my fingers down her calf to her ankle and feeling the
chain around it.  Sam shifted a little to bring her foot closer and I
started to massage it, pushing my fingers between her toes and pressing
my thumb along her sole.  My fingers would always stray back to the
chain around her ankle though, tracing around the hard links and
slipping underneath to feel her soft skin.

Samantha had got me as hard as I was going to get, so I had her lay
down on her side and I snuggled in close behind her.  Taking my cock in
my hand, I guided it into her warm, wet pussy, then slowly pushed its
length up inside of her.  Sam let out a squeal of pleasure and began to
press her bum harder onto me to get more of me inside her.  I gathered
up most of her hair in one hand and held her head firmly in place as I
hooked a leg through her ankle chain and dragged her feet closer to me.
Then I began to bang harder into her, bucking my hips to drive my cock
deeper and deeper into her with each thrust.  Sam started her moaning
and loud cries of ecstasy, but now we were alone and she could let
loose by making all the noise she wanted.

She came quickly, grinding her bum against me and howling loud and long
as her orgasm held her in its grip.  I yanked hard on her hair to
unclench her cunt and bring her around, then I started pumping into her
again.  I could feel it starting to build within me as I wound her hair
around my hand and, holding her firmly, I began to cum.  The light
started to dim as my first shot of jism blasted into her.  I rolled
over onto my back, taking Samantha with me, as another blast pumped
into her.  I released her hair to place both hands on her shoulders,
raising her up a bit and pressing her body down harder onto me as my
cock erupted another stream of boiling hot cum into her.

We finished with us both sitting up, her on top of my lap, my arms
around her waist, the chain between her hands held tightly in mine.  I
nuzzled the back of her neck and rolled her hips around on me while my
cock shook and twitched inside her tight, slippery channel, wetness
seeping past and feeling all squishy against my thighs.  Sam had a
towel handy which she must have brought from the bathroom last night
and when I collapsed breathlessly back onto the bed she rolled off me
and took care of the mess.  She lay down beside me facing away from me
with the towel between her legs, the other end around my cock.  She
raised up her head when I put my arm around her and we lay together in
the quiet of a Saturday morning, her bum snuggled against me, my hand
on her breast.

Sam wore the chains all morning and part of the afternoon.  I made the
coffee and she made us pancakes for breakfast, I cooked burgers on the
barbie for lunch.  We spent a lot of time sitting around in the back
yard, naked most of the time, since I had no nosy neighbours for miles
around.  Sam tried swimming in my pool with her chains on and managed
to do quite well.  When she stopped paddling she'd quickly sink down to
the bottom, but I told her that the water in the lakes of the park was
usually ice cold in the fall so we'd probably not be swimming much
anyway.

We talked about what she could wear for the trip.  The poncho she had
worked well and with a thicker tube top she'd be all right if it got
cold.  She said she had a long skirt, since with her feet chained,
shorts or pants would not be very useful.

"We'll go on a shopping trip sometime," I said, "get you some more
clothes for the trip."

In the afternoon, I called to book tickets at a high school theatre in
a nearby town.  They had a comedy troupe doing a show there.  We had a
nice long soak in the hot tub, then I took Sam's chains off and we
dressed for dinner and a show.  Sam only had her little black dress and
her heels, and she looked gorgeous.  Supper was good, the show really
funny, and we got back to my place around eleven, or so.

Sunday morning we were sitting around, wondering what to do, when I got
a call to go in to work.  Somebody's printer wouldn't print, or some
such crap.  Nevertheless, duty calls, so I took Samantha home before
driving over to the hospital.  Sam showed me the sketches she'd done,
the ones I'd sent to her from my possible client, and I took them with
me.  She'd really made the guy's ideas come to life, I told her.  When
I got back home, I scanned the images and sent them off.

The following week I checked out a few hardware stores and building
supply places, looking for some perfect chain.  I probably looked like
an idiot, holding chains up to my ear and shaking them, searching for
the right pitch of sound.  I bought some that might do, and then I
remembered something Sam had said about the bracelets she had.  She'd
found them in a marine supply store.  I went to a couple and finally
found what I was really looking for.  Smooth, close links, two sizes,
one, a little bigger than the other.  Nice, gentle tinkling sound.
Perfect.

The only problem was that this chain was made from high carbon steel
and had been hardened.  I found this out when the guy cut off pieces
for me and had to use a power grinder to saw through the links.
However, feeling the almost oily smoothness of the links, I knew it was
what I wanted.

At another place, I bought four quick links.  Quick links are a chain
link with an opening and a long nut that screwed across to close the
link.  Since it was a nut, a wrench could lock it up tight, and it
wasn't heavy or awkward like a padlock would be.  Two of one size, two
a little smaller, and in the parking lot I tried them in the chain to
make sure that they fit, and that they looked good.  I also picked up
four new padlocks.  I could have got four with the same key, but
fumbling with a bunch of different keys can sometimes be fun too.

I could hardly wait for the week to end, and on Friday, I picked Sam up
from work and took her to my place.  On my bed, I showed her the bonds
she'd be wearing for our week in the bush.  I could see she was getting
excited as I wrapped one end of the smaller chain around her wrist,
slipped the quick link through, and after checking that the chain was
neither too tight or too loose, I spun the nut closed.  I used a
screwdriver and a wrench to snug up the link.  I counted the links
around her wrist, then did her other hand.  The process was repeated
for her ankles, using the chain that was a little thicker.  While I
chained her, I told her of my plans.

"I think we'll put these chains on you right at the beginning," I said.
"We'll tighten these links down, then I'll leave the tools in the
truck.  There'll be a couple short portages at the start of the trip,
and one long one, but you can wear boots and thick socks so your ankles
don't get rubbed too bad.  After that, you probably won't have to do
much walking."

Sam asked, "So these chains are going to stay on for the whole week?"

"Yes," I said, "that's the general idea."

I had Sam put her feet through her wrist chain so her hands were behind
her back.

"I've got four locks," I went on.  "After we've passed the long
portage, when I feel we won't be bothered by other people, I'll stash
the keys in some place, under a big rock or in a tree somewhere.  When
we're settled at our final camping spot, and after a day or two, I'll
start putting the locks on you."

I slipped one lock through the chains at her wrists and clicked it
closed.  Samantha's hands were now stuck behind her back.  I could see
the effect it was having on her, as the realization dawned on her.

"How am I going to do anything like this?" she asked.

"I don't know," I answered.  "I guess I'll be doing everything.  I
might lock your feet together first."

I used another lock to lock the chains around her ankles together.  I
had her lay on her front, then I locked the loose chain between her
hands and feet together, pulling her feet up close to her hands and
clicking the lock closed.

"By the end of the week," I said, "this is how you'll be.  I might not
make the hog tie so tight, we'll see how much trouble you give me."

Sam was getting hot now, squirming around on the bed, struggling a bit
in the chains.  The links lay evenly around her wrists and ankles,
spreading the force around without pressing uncomfortably against her.
"You said you had four locks."

Very good my pet, I thought.  I showed her the rubber bit gag, the
leather straps replaced by a length of chain.  Sam gasped, then smiled
widely.  I pushed the bit gag into her mouth and locked the chain
behind her head.

"This is how you'll end up, Sam.  The gag should be the last thing, I
guess.  It would be hard to eat with it on.  On the last day I'll pack
everything up, load the stuff and you in the boat and we'll go find the
keys to let you go.  Like it?"

"Mmmm Mmmmm."

I took that for a yes.  I had to put a towel under her head to stop her
drool from soaking my bed.  After I'd stirred her up some, I had to get
another towel for her other end.  Her pussy juices were flowing freely
by the time I finished.  Fucking was pretty much impossible with her
trussed up like that, but I used my hands and mouth on her, driving her
wild with passion, and I made her cum several times, just sitting back
and watching her shake and writhe in her chains.  I left Sam laying
chained up on my bed while I went and called for a pizza.  It wasn't
until it was delivered that I released her; the locks anyway, her two
chains, I left on her.

Sam spent the entire weekend at my house, naked and with her hands and
feet chained.  The one between her hands she was mostly used to since
she had her bracelets with the connecting chain and had told me she'd
worn them practically every night.  I would have thought having her
feet chained so close would take some getting used to, but she
surprised me by quickly adapting to the hobble, taking short, careful
steps at first, then, as the weekend progressed, becoming more and more
confident in moving around and doing things with her chains on.

Friday night I used two locks to connect her hands and her feet
together, Saturday night I gave her the full treatment, making the hog
tie rather loose but locking the bit gag tightly into her mouth.  On
Sunday morning, we tried letting her eat and drink something with the
bit in, water at first, then some soft cooked eggs.  It was a little
messy, and she choked once or twice, but when I went to remove her gag,
she'd shake her head, determined to try it again.

"Take the gag home with you," I said, after she'd cleaned herself up.
"See if you want to practice trying to eat something with it in during
the week.  If you think you can manage, I could put it on you earlier
on in the trip."

"You just don't want to hear me complaining," she said.

I had to laugh at that one.

"Well, yes.  But no, that's not it," I told her.  "This trip has to be
fun for the both of us, Sam.  If there's anything or if I do anything
that you don't like, don't want to do, you tell me and we'll stop.  I
don't want to push you into anything you might regret later and be
upset over, O.K.?"

"Oh Jim," she said, "You haven't done anything yet that upset me.  On
the contrary, I've loved every minute that we've spent together.  And
I'm really excited about this trip, I'm really looking forward to it.
I want you to do everything to me that you said you would.  I'm not
going to complain, I want to do it.  I need to try, master, I have to."

We were standing in the kitchen and I took a step closer to her, then
took her in my arms.  This sweet, sweet beauty was the center of my
universe now and I held her tightly to me, feeling her melt into me in
that way she had of giving all of herself to me.  There'd been no end
to the sex this weekend; we must have done it in every room in the
house, and outside, in the back yard.  Sam's pussy was raw from us
fucking so much and we were both a bit giddy from having cum so many
times.  But when I took hold of the chain between her hands and lifted
her arms up over her head, she pressed her luscious body tightly
against mine, our lust for one another rising to the occasion once
again.

It was late Sunday afternoon before I took Sam's chains off and let her
get dressed again.  We drove into the city to have a nice supper at an
Indian restaurant, then I took her home afterwards.  She had her bit
gag in a plastic bag with the chain, and I'd given her a snap fastener,
in case she had to take it out quickly.  She said she'd try to get used
to having it in her mouth for an extended time.  We'd have two weeks,
maybe three, depending on the weather, before our trip.

The following week, the guy for whom Sam did the drawings e-mailed me
and was thrilled with how the pictures had come out.  He sent me more
stuff and asked if I could work up his web site.  I put something
together for him, an outline he could put on a disk and go through, to
see if he liked the look.  By the end of the week, I had the contract
to do his site.  I got Samantha to do a few more pieces of artwork; she
helped me a bit on getting the layout looking right, and I split the
fee with her.

They say bad things happen in threes.  I'm still waiting for the third,
but on the next week, I was informed that my contract for network
administration at the hospital wouldn't be renewed.  Typical
bureaucracy, they weren't getting a new system, just cutting back on
maintaining the old one.  I had little doubt that they'd be calling me
back to put things right, only instead of a fixed contract I'd be
charging service call rates and probably making more money.  Even if
they found someone else to do the work, it was no big deal, I had other
interests going, and I also had enough stashed away that I didn't
really have to worry about money for a while anyway.  With Samantha,
however, she was devastated, when on Friday they told everyone that her
bank branch was closing.  Some of the senior employees would be
transferred to other branches, but for her, she was shit out of luck.
When I picked her up after work, she tearfully told me the news.

"This was my last day," she said between sobs.  "They gave me three
weeks severance pay.  A few people were kept on until they close the
branch in a couple more weeks, but I'm out."

"Fuck it," I said.  "It was a good job, but it's only a job, there'll
be another.  Don't worry about it, O.K.?"

I didn't say it, but in a way I was glad she'd lost the job.  Maybe it
would be the push she needed to decide to move in with me, like we'd
talked a little about.

"Don't worry about it, Sam," I told her.  "There's plenty of work
around for someone as smart as you.  If you need help with the rent or
something, you tell me.  All right?  I won't charge you much interest
on a loan," I added with a grin.

At least that got a little smile out of her.  We picked up some Chinese
takeout and had it in her apartment.  After dinner, I used her computer
to log onto the web site she'd helped me create.  The site was one of
those pay by month sex sites.  There wasn't much content yet, it had
only been up for a week and the guy was still putting stuff in, but
what was there held Sam's attention.

"You could probably sell this guy some of your drawings," I said to
her.

"You think so?"

"He would pay you for having them here," I told her, "and you'd keep
the originals for yourself.  Basically, you rent the image to him and
retain the rights to it."

"How much can someone make with a site like this?" she asked.

"Well the bigger ones can have maybe two hundred thousand members at
one time.  Times fifteen or twenty bucks a month..."

"Wow!  That much?"

"Content's the key.  Getting the word out, then keeping it fresh,
keeping membership up.  This guy's off to a good start, I think.  With
your help."

Sam's translations of the fellow's sketches did look good on the
screen, the borders and even the arrows she'd done looked almost erotic
in a way.  It was good, showing her the site, opening up possibilities
for her so that the loss of her banking job didn't seem to be such an
end for her.

I stayed the night at her place, just holding her close that night,
cuddling her.  We screwed in the morning.

Last week of August was gloomy and cool.  The beginning of September it
stayed that way.  Rain almost every other day, and cool.  Fall weather
in Ontario.  Sam had her period, so adding to the depressing weather,
we couldn't fuck.  I picked up some other things for the trip: a small
naphtha gas stove, an insulated bag for food.  I cooked some things and
froze them in meal-sized portions, packed up the dry food.  We were
ready to roll.

I saw Sam more often now; with her out of work, she could stay with me
during the week as well as on weekends.  She brought her four goldfish
to my house and we put them in my fishpond, so she wouldn't have to
bother about them when we were away.  She'd already had a job offer,
but it was too far to travel, the pay was low, and she'd turned it
down.  Still, she knew work was available, and her spirits were good,
raised higher as the time for the trip drew closer.

Second week of September, the skies cleared and it got bitterly cold.
Then, two days later, summer returned.  The forecast was for the good
weather to hold for a while so I picked up Sam, we loaded the truck,
and we said bye-bye to the world.

[part 2]

Being a Tuesday and the end of summer, traffic through cottage country
was non-existent.  The Jeep handled well since I'd packed extra light.
Camping in a campground was a whole lot different from camping out in
the wilderness.  Having to lug a bunch of crap along a winding forest
trail becomes less fun the farther you go.  Also, on the way out, I
doubted that Sam would be in any condition to offer much help.  At
least not if we stuck to the original plan.  The biggest and most heavy
item, apart from the canoe, was a plastic tote box with the food and
cooking stuff, and it would be mostly empty on the way back.

We'd started out late in the morning, after a hearty breakfast.  It was
a five-hour drive to the north side of the park and the entry point I'd
chosen.  I planned to spend the night in a motel nearby so we'd have a
full day to make a good start on the trip.  I'd gone over the map of
the park with Sam and, although I'd never been to this area before, we
picked a fairly short route that ended up as a dead end in a small
lake.  A long portage along the way and the isolation of the area, well
off the main canoe routes, would hopefully give us the privacy that we
were seeking.

We stopped along the way for lunch, stopped again at a couple of
souvenir and craft stores.  Sam found a thick, blue cotton, long dress
that had a bib type front and a strap that went around her neck.  With
a tube top underneath it would be perfect for her to wear, and I bought
it for her.  We hadn't packed much clothing and with the way Sam would
be chained her choices were further limited.  Blankets and warm
clothing would be a necessity, I was sure.  Rain wear, hiking boots,
just the basics I had said.  The less we had to carry, the better.

With that last cold snap the trees had started turning colours and the
hills along the way looked gorgeous.  It was as if a giant had sloshed
buckets of yellow, green, and red paint over the forest.  The farther
north we drove the more pronounced the colours were, vibrant golds and
deep reds, beautiful in the sunlight.

Around six, or so, we made the town we were looking for and stopped at
a motel for the night.  Across the street was a diner where we had our
supper, then we took a stroll through the sleepy little town.  People
nodded to us as we passed, even stopped to talk with us at times.

"It's so nice here," Sam said to me, "so peaceful."  We'd crossed a
bridge and had walked down to the marina to look at the boats there.

"Folks are a lot more open in towns like this," I said.  "People are
more trusting, even of strangers passing through.  They don't get the
crime here that we do, or at least it's not an everyday occurrence, not
always in your face like it is in the big city."

Sam said, "It would be nice if we could live someplace like this.
Maybe a little cabin up in the hills, or a small farm."

We?  Hmmm.

"Hmmm," I said, "A big cabin would be nice.  Things are a lot less
expensive up here, property and houses, that is.  Some things cost
more.  It is nice though."

The park office was in the general store, which was closed.  A few
doors down was a bar though, and the good old sounds of rock and roll
could be heard from inside.  The joint had a big crowd for a Tuesday
night, and the band, local boys, no doubt farm hands from around the
area, belted out the tunes and sounded really good.  We stayed for
three sets as the crowds swelled and Sam and I got drunker, unusual for
me since I'm not that big a drinker.  But the beer was fresh and good,
the atmosphere of the bar homey and relaxed, and the start of our trip
seemed to require celebrating.

It was near to ten thirty before we left the bar to stagger up the hill
to our motel room.  We collapsed on the bed in a fit of giggles and I
held Samantha close, cuddling and kissing her as the room spun around
me.  We stripped and got under the covers, explored each other's bodies
for a while, until I ended up passing out.

Next morning I woke, a bit hung over, but eager to make a start on the
day.  After a big breakfast at the diner, we took our last hot showers
for a while, then we left the motel and I drove down the hill to the
park office to check in.  The park ranger eyed us both sceptically for
a moment, Sam especially, noting her radiant beauty and how out of
place she'd appear in the wilds.  But then he seemed to notice my truck
parked out front with the canoe expertly lashed to the rack on top, and
I guess he figured us city slickers would be O.K.

Access to the wilderness area of the park is controlled as to numbers
of people per day, routes that you can take, and most importantly,
where you can set up camp.  There are lots of cleared sites along the
routes of lakes and rivers for canoeists to make camp, and primitive
toilet facilities are also provided.  There are rules as to what one
can bring into the park like no cans or bottles, just re-usable plastic
containers, bags and packages only.  All garbage that you couldn't burn
had to be packed out.  To show the ranger I knew what I was doing, I
pulled out my map of the park, with all the info printed on the back,
and traced our planned route for him.  I also had a photocopy of the
part I'd need, less to carry than the big map of the whole park.

"Not many people go to that lake," he said as I pointed out our
destination.  "It's a shame too, that's one of the prettiest spots."

"I'd planned on staying for four, maybe six days there." I told him.
"So long as the weather holds."

"This island," he pointed it out, "has two sites.  Pick the east end,
it's a little rocky, but nice and sunny."

I said I'd like to pay up for eight nights but we'd maybe stay a couple
days longer, if it didn't get too cold or rainy.

"Well sure, pay for the eight now, and if you stay a few days longer,
don't worry about it.  Just check in when you leave so we know you're
all right.  Not many folks in the interior right now.  Had a group of
six go in last weekend, heading south, to the highway.  No one through
here yesterday.  Should be nice and peaceful for you two."

The camping fee wasn't much, a little more than I'd paid for one night
at the motel.  I had a look at the map on the office wall, a newer
version than the one I had, but the rivers and lakes hadn't changed.
The long portage was still just as long, nearly a mile and a half in
length.  The park ranger wished us well when we left and I drove out of
town and along the gravel park access road.

After less than an hour, the road ended at the shore of a big lake.
There was a parking area with a couple other vehicles standing there;
otherwise the place was deserted.  I parked close to the water, then we
started to unload the truck.  We got the boat in the water and all the
stuff in it, then I turned to Sam.

She was wearing a flannel shirt, one of mine actually, and a long
skirt.  I had her put on the outfit we'd picked up along the way, with
a stretchy tube top underneath.  I had her leave one long skirt in the
truck, since she'd brought two.

"Ready?" I asked her.

I put the chains on her wrists and her ankles, snugging up the quick
links firmly with a wrench and using a screwdriver through the link to
lever the wrench against.  I gave each link a final reef, making doubly
sure everything was even, not twisted in any way, and fixed onto her
for the duration.  As a concession to prudence and safety, I'd stashed
a hacksaw blade inside one of the tent poles, just in case of some
emergency, so I could cut through the mild steel of the quick links if
I had to.  But I wasn't going to tell Samantha that until after the
trip, perhaps.  For all she knew, the chains were on her to stay.

I had one box of "things we might not take."  In it was bug spray.
There were no bugs; the chilly weather of last week had reduced the
numbers of annoying insects considerably.  My small axe.  I'd like to
take it, but I had a little folding saw for cutting up firewood.  The
battery radio.

I asked Sam, "If we leave the radio we'll be totally cut off from the
rest of the world.  That might be a good thing, but it can get pretty
boring in the evenings."

"Leave it," she said.

I thought for a moment.  "No, we'll take it.  It'll be nice to know
what the weather is going to do, at least."

Chairs were out, but we had pads to kneel on in the boat, to sit on
around the fire, and to sleep on.  I left the wrench in the truck,
under her seat, and I also left one ring of keys for the locks there
too.  The second set of keys, the ones I'd stash in the woods
someplace, I took with us.

I had her go get in the boat while I moved the truck to a shady spot
away from the water.  Then I walked to the canoe, pushed it out, and
climbed in.  We were off.  The loose chain between Sam's wrists was
just an inch longer than that of the bracelets she had, and it allowed
her to get a slightly better grip on her paddle.  I told her to take it
easy paddling across the big lake since we had nothing but time now and
I didn't want us to get too tired too soon.

"We've got a long ways to go," I said.  We'll have to make camp once,
probably twice before we get to the lake."

We started seeing campsites along the shore, but no people there.
Later on, on the other side of the lake we spotted two canoes going in
the direction we'd come from.  People returning to their car where we
parked, probably.  We left the lake to follow a wide river, and then
came to the first portage, a short one around a rocky set of rapids.

Getting out of the boat, we dried off our feet, then put on hiking
boots.  Sam tucked the tops of her thick socks underneath the chains,
then put her boots on.  Although she could only take short steps, the
tops of the boots supported the chain around her ankles and the smooth
links slid easily over her cotton socks, so walking wasn't really much
of a problem for her.  Leaving a few things in the boat, we carried it
upright along the trail and to the top of the rapids.  Sam carried the
back of the boat, since with her hands chained in front of her it was
easier that way.

"Can you make another trip?" I asked her, when we got to the other end
of the portage.  "Are you all right?"

"Sure," she said, "Let's go."

Sam hobbled down the hill while I followed behind, watching her ass
twitch back and forth with her hair swishing across it as she walked,
her chains tinkling gaily in the quiet forest.  We made another trip
carrying stuff up to the boat, then I let Sam rest while I went back
for the last few things.  We lightened the load a bit by eating a
couple peaches before we set out again.

The river petered out in a marshy swamp and we made another trek along
a trail alongside.  This portage, although longer, was flat and open
alongside the swampy part, fairly easy going.  Back in the water, we
paddled for a while, then stopped for lunch.  I had sandwiches already
made and we ate them, then pressed on.

"How you doing?" I called to her in the front of the boat as we took a
break and floated for a while.

"Great," she said.  "It's really beautiful out here."

"Are you O.K.?" I asked again.

"Sure," she answered, "I'm fine.  Getting a bit tired though, will we
be stopping soon?"

In keeping with the wilderness adventure theme, I'd brought along no
watch.  It looked to be around four, and I told her we'd stop in about
another hour or so.

We came upon a nice little island in the middle of a lake with one
campsite on it, and I called a halt.  Pulling the boat onto shore, we
surveyed our home for the night.  After unloading the canoe we set up
my small, two person tent, then I went to the mainland for firewood,
since there wasn't much dead wood left on the island.  It didn't take
long for me to return with a boatload and I made a fire while Sam
started preparing dinner.  I baked some potatoes in the fire and we
heated up a portion of the frozen beef stew.  We had fresh bread and
half of a carton of some kind of wine with the meal, instant coffee and
apple pie for dessert.  "Wow," Sam said, after we'd eaten.  "Was that
ever good!"

"Keep the memory fresh in your mind," I said, "by the end of the trip
we'll be eating grubs and berries."

We cleaned up from supper and I threw a rope over a tree branch to
hoist the box of food up high, away from any animals that might happen
by.  All it takes is one stinking racoon to root through your food with
his shitty little paws to ruin a nice trip.  We stripped down and took
a quick wash in the cool lake water.  It was starting to get chilly and
Sam put her poncho on to cover her bare arms.  I put on a thicker shirt
and we sat around the fire for a while.

It got dark rather quickly, and the air got colder too.  Sam moved
nearer to me, snuggling close.  After a while, I got up to put some
more wood on the fire and I lit a candle, placing it near the tent.  We
didn't bring my gas lantern, too much trouble, but a large candle gives
off enough light and could also afford a bit of heat inside the tent if
needed.  I found the flashlight and the radio, then returned to
Samantha and cuddled up to her.  Reaching under her poncho, I felt
around her hands and the chain, then my fingers strayed up higher to
her breasts, bare under the covering, the nipples hard and a little
cool to the touch.  Her feet were bare too, drawn up under the long
skirt she was wearing.

"You're not too cold?" I asked her.

"Not really," she said.  "How far do you think we came today?"

"A little under half way.  We'll hit the long hike before noon
tomorrow, it's just along a river at the end of this lake."

"It's so quiet," she said.  "Is there anyone else on this lake?"

"Just us, I guess.  I didn't see any other lights around."

Sam looked at me with a sly grin.  "So you won't have to gag me
tonight."

"No, I suppose not," I said, chuckling.

We both only had one pair of hiking boots each, because by midweek I
expected that Sam would have little use for shoes.  Less to carry too.
We got up to walk barefoot down to the water's edge and Sam held up her
skirt to step out into the water.  It was fully dark now with no moon
to wash the sky with light and, looking north, we could see the
northern lights, faint rippling ribbons of light dancing amongst the
stars.

"Oh my God," Samantha whispered to me, "I've seen that on TV, but never
for real.  It's so beautiful."

"You've got to go much farther north," I quietly said, "to get the full
effect.  The colours would be a lot brighter and it would seem to fill
the entire sky around you."

The light show above was reflected in the inky blackness of the lake at
our feet.  I held Sam's hand as the cold of the water froze our toes.

Later on, we returned to the warmth of the fire and I made us some cups
of hot chocolate and found some cookies to go with it.  I hoisted the
food container back up into the trees and we listened to the radio for
a while, pulling in far away stations on the AM dial with no
interference from electrical gadgets for miles around.  After putting
everything away, we soaked up heat from the fire before I doused it and
we went to bed.

Inside the tent, we eagerly stripped off our clothes and slid into the
chilly sleeping bag, arranging blankets over it and zipping it up.
Sam's chains were ice cold against my skin, but we warmed up quickly.
Sam lay on top of me at first, until it got warmer, then she slid down
under the covers, her wrist chain slipping down my chest, until I felt
her hot breath against my cock.  She started to gently lick me around
the head, teasing me for a while, before she took the length of it into
her mouth and slipped it down deep into her throat.

I wanted to touch her, so after a few moments I raised the covers and
called down for her to turn around.  She was awkward in shifting around
inside the sleeping bag, but she managed, and I slid down a little as
she brought her feet up around my ears.  Her ankle chain was strangling
me now, so we fumbled around a bit more until the chain was under my
head, her pussy was pressed against my mouth, and my cock was once more
lodged down her throat.

I pushed my nose through her slit, letting her labia rings rest on
either side of my nose, and I flicked my tongue back and forth across
her clit.  Sam moaned with pleasure, intensifying her efforts to
swallow me whole.  I sucked her lips into my mouth and played with her
rings with my tongue, hearing the metal clicking against my teeth, then
I pushed my tongue deep up inside her, rolling it around in her warmth
and wetness.  I was soon reaching for a towel to mop up her slickness
that was running down my chin and threatening to make a swamp of our
bed.

I unzipped the bag so Sam could turn around more easily and I had her
lay down on her back, spreading the towel under her bum to soak up any
ensuing messes.  I lay down on top of her, pushing my feet under her
ankle chain so she could bring her legs up over my back.  She was
undeterred by my pussy juice soaked face and she kissed me
passionately, pushing her tongue into my mouth even as I pushed my
throbbing cock into her slippery wet pussy.  I started banging into
her, trying to keep most of my weight off her, since the pads under our
bedding didn't offer a lot of cushioning.  Sam pressed her heels onto
my back and her chain was hanging down in the crack of my ass, tickling
me there as I pumped into her.

Samantha's cries of passion were loud, carrying far, I was sure, across
the water in the still night air.  Perhaps even to other lakes, I
thought, trying to distract myself from cumming too quickly while
riding out the massive orgasm that held her in its grip.  People
sitting up, around their fires, hearing the sounds of some tortured
beast far off in the woods.  The idea made me grin.

Sam's hands were on my face and I hooked her chain with my thumb to
drag it down and under her head, bringing her hands down around her
face.  I bent to kiss her as I started thrusting into her again.  Sam's
feet had slipped down to my ass, her heels driving me on, the chains
around her ankles grinding into me.  The loose chain between her feet
was swinging around and, at times, slapping against my balls.  I felt
only pleasure, however.  Her feet moved a bit lower and the chain began
hitting my cock on each upstroke.  That was when I lost it.  My weight
fell onto Sam as I blasted a jet of blazing hot cum into her.  Her feet
twitched, sending the chain swinging and stroking my crotch again, and
another shot of cum burst forth.  Her lusty moan loud in my ear, I shot
another couple jets of jism into her, then collapsed on top of her, my
panting breath hot and heavy against the side of her head.  Sam lifted
her head up to slip her wrist chain from underneath, then brought her
hands up over my head to caress my back, with her chain sliding
smoothly across my skin.  I rolled off her a little so she wasn't
crushed, and we held each other as my cock softened inside of her.

Later on, we went naked outside to take a piss, and then go to the lake
and wash up a bit.  The water was cool, although not unbearably so, but
we were quick about it, drying off and slipping back into the still
warm sleeping bag.  Holding my lovely Samantha in my arms again, I was
soon fast asleep.

Morning brought cloudy skies, but slightly warmer weather, and together
we fixed a big breakfast of fried eggs and ham slices, which I grilled
over the fire.  I even managed to make passable toast on the grill.

By the time we'd finished eating, the sun was out again.  Sam changed
into a long skirt with her lighter poncho and nothing underneath; I
wore shorts and a flannel shirt.  We broke camp and hit the water.
After paddling across the lake, we found the wide river leading to the
long portage.  Sam's clothing covered her chains well enough, and it
was a good thing too, since along the way we passed a couple of other
boats, stopping in the middle of the river to chat for a few minutes
with an older couple.  They looked like they'd been in the park for a
while, since the man had a good two weeks growth of stubble on his
face.

We ran into a couple more people along the portage too.  Sam had to
stop walking when they came near so her ankle chain wouldn't rattle and
cause suspicion, but we just set whatever we were carrying down, making
it look like we'd just decided to take a little rest.  The first part
of the hike was part of a main route and at about half way the trail
branched to go south, or east to the lake we'd chosen to visit.  The
branch was marked clearly as to where the main path led and also that
the other route ended at our lake.  Mostly, people going somewhere and
travelling through the park, would stick to the main route, not as
interested in taking a path that didn't seem to lead on to anywhere.
At least that's what I was counting on.

The main part of the path was well travelled and a relatively easy
hike, but where it branched, it continued as a more narrow trail
winding through dense forest, and uphill to boot.  To say it was
daunting would be an understatement.  We'd started with the canoe,
carrying it upright with the paddles, lifejackets, and sleeping pads in
it.  On the less used trail, it became impossible to negotiate with it
like that and I had to carry the boat up over my head with Sam bringing
the other things along.  Despite her having the chains on, she had an
easier time of it than I did.  The boat kept getting wedged between
trees or hung up on branches, and it was up hill, at times steeply so,
almost all the way.

Finally, the trail levelled off, then began to descend in a gentler
slope and the forest thinned somewhat.  The path ended at a
disappointingly small stream.  We dropped our loads, turned to one
another, and burst out laughing.

"What a fucking ordeal," I said.

"Hardly seems worth it," said Sam, looking out at the muddy little
river.

"Ya, well, it can only get better.  Right?"

After a brief rest, we headed back for another load.  At the other end,
we had a snack of some fruit and a drink of water, then we picked up
some more stuff to make the trek again.  At the boat, I had Sam get
busy on making some ham sandwiches while I made the hike once more for
the last few things.  By the time we had everything together, had a
quick lunch, and set out again, it must have been late afternoon.  Just
to make things even more annoying, the little river was blocked four
times by beaver dams, forcing us to get out and haul the loaded canoe
over them.

It was beginning to get dark when, at last, the river opened onto a
long, narrow lake.  I picked the first campsite we came to, drove the
boat onto shore, and stopped for the day.  I got the fire going while
Sam set up the tent.  I cut up some onions and potatoes, which Sam
fried on the stove while I grilled a couple thick pork chops.  We
finished the other half of the wine and started on another.  We'd both
been a little edgy for the last few hours, but after eating and
relaxing for a bit, I started to feel somewhat better.

"We didn't make much progress today," I said, "but we've only got a
short ways to go now."

I showed Sam the map.  "There's another portage to get to our lake, but
it's not long.  We should be there sometime in the afternoon."

In the evening light, we took a wash in the lake and I examined
Samantha's wrists and ankles, looking for signs that the chains were
causing her problems.  Apart from a few small red marks from them
rubbing against her skin she seemed fine.  After we'd cleaned up, I
rubbed a little skin cream under her chains and then I gave her a nice
massage, since she said her shoulders were getting a bit sore from
paddling so much.  Of course, since she'd complained of her being sore,
I was forced to lock the bit gag into her mouth.  Sam wore the gag for
the rest of the evening.

Before we went to bed I used another lock to lock her hands behind her
back, then I held a cup to her lips to let her drink some water.  After
I'd dried her face off, we snuggled into the sleeping bag, making love
finally, her on her side and me behind her.  After that I unlocked her
hands, but when I went to remove the gag she shook her head and moved
away from me.  She wanted me to leave it on her.

We went outside for a piss, then got back into bed.  Sam snuggled up
close to me and we quickly fell asleep.

It must have been early in the morning when I woke, my arm numb from
Sam's head resting on it, my shoulder wet with her drool leaking past
the bit in her mouth.  My arm behind her was wrapped in her soft hair,
one of her arms was across my chest, and her leg was across mine.  I
could feel her chains against my skin, warm, nice.  My lovely little
slave girl.

Ever so gently, I touched her nipple, running a finger around it,
barely touching her.  I watched as her eyes flickered open, then
glanced downward as she realised her cheek was in a puddle.  She lifted
her head up and more slobber flowed from her mouth.  "Uuugg whhaas
hmm."

It finally dawned on her that she still had the bit in her mouth.
Taking up a towel, I wiped my shoulder and daubed at the corners of her
mouth.  I unzipped the sleeping bag and sat up.  I was suddenly horny
as hell.  Taking Sam's wrist chain in my hand, I hauled her up out of
bed.  One of the locks was still on the floor and I grabbed it, then
opened the tent and we went outside.

It had been warm in the tent, and outside it was quite pleasant.  I'd
seen a fallen tree nearby last night and I had a plan.  Leading Sam
over to it, I had her lay face down over the thick tree trunk.  The
wood was still solid but the bark had fallen off, making a nice smooth
surface for her soft tummy.  Reaching under the tree, I slipped the
lock through her wrist chain and connected it to her ankle chain.  I
clicked the lock closed and stepped back before she'd realized what I'd
done.

"Mmmffft."

"Quiet or I'll have to spank you."

"MMMff.  Mmmfss!"

Oh what a cutie.  I sauntered around a bit, rubbing the sleep from my
eyes, my dick waving around in front of me.  I did go down to the water
to see if we were alone, and not seeing anyone, I returned to my
helpless victim.

"MMMMM!" she sputtered.

"Didn't I tell you what would happen if you weren't quiet?"

"Mmm."

I began to smack her upturned bum with my hand.  When it was a nice
even red colour, I moved her back a little, before she flipped herself
around the tree trunk, and I pushed my cock into her burning, wet
pussy.

Almost as soon as I'd entered her, she came, a long, howling cum that
had her shaking and bucking against the wood, me fighting to hold her
from flipping us both over the top of the trunk.  Finally, I grabbed
hold of the lock behind her head and pulled her head up, then I started
to pump my cock into her in long deep strokes that had her groaning and
panting around the gag.  I fucked her through another two orgasms until
I could hold back no longer and I let loose a torrent of cum into her,
filling her up to overflowing with it.

When my senses returned, I stepped back, withdrawing myself from her
grasping cunt.  I gave her bum a final hard smack, causing her to jump
and making a gush of gooey cum shoot out of her.  Then I went to find
the keys.

When I crawled out of the tent, I had to pause and just stare at her
for a moment, her arms and legs hanging down, locked around the big
log, her head down and hair pooled on the ground.  Her crimson bum
high, glowing in the bright morning light, trails of glistening slime
down the backs of her thighs.  Simply stunning.

Climbing over the tree trunk, I unlocked her gag first and moved her
hair off her face.  She tilted her head up to me and tried to speak,
but her mouth wouldn't work right.  After I'd unlocked her chains and
helped her to gingerly sit on the log, she turned her head to face me
and gave me the sweetest smile.

"Thank you, sir."

"It was my pleasure, little one."

The air was definitely warmer, and neither of us felt the need to put
on clothes.  I used the stove to make coffee and I cooked a pot of
oatmeal for breakfast, choosing to save the eggs and better stuff for
later on.  After we ate, we took a good wash in the lake, even managing
to swim a bit before the chilly water drove us out and back to the
sunny shore.  Finally, we got dressed, struck camp, packed everything
into the boat, and left.

We paddled the length of the lake and found the next river, which wound
through a mountainous area.  As we paddled, the hills around us got
higher and more rugged looking.  High, bare rock cliffs, towering over
us on either side of the river in some spots.  The water was calm
though, only a small amount of current moving against us, and the going
was fairly easy.  When the river began to turn south, I kept an eye out
for the marking of the portage that would take us to the last lake.

Sam spotted the yellow sign, nailed to a tree in a small bay, and we
turned in.  This time, for a change, we took some of the packs first,
leaving the boat for later.  The trail went uphill for a bit, then we
came to a steep drop off that led down the side of a hill and to the
water far below.  I went first, ready to drop what I was carrying and
catch Sam if she happened to slip or stumble, and she did have a bit of
trouble negotiating the steep slope, but we managed to get to the
bottom without incident.

The lake was not that big, but was surrounded by high hills, ringed
partially with rocky cliffs that went straight up from the water in
several spots.  We could hear a steady roar that echoed from the rock
around us.  The trees that we'd passed on the trail were huge, towering
white pines, and there were many such trees on the hills around us.
The whole area had a kind of prehistoric, untouched look to it, as
though time had passed this area by somehow.  The air was still and
calm in the shelter of the hills, and when I dipped my hand in the
water, I discovered it to be surprisingly warm.

Going back up the trail I found the best way was for me to hold onto
Sam's wrist chain to help her keep her footing on the steeper parts of
the slope.  I had the set of keys fixed to my belt and I was keeping an
eye out for a good place to stash them.  At the top of the hill, I
spied a nice place.  Sam leaned against a tree while I climbed on a big
rock, then I walked along a fallen tree that leaned out away from the
trail at an angle.  Using a piece of wire, I tied the ring of keys to a
branch up high, out of sight from the path.  I made sure that they'd
stay there; I made a note of the location, what was underneath in case
the tree fell down some more.  Sam watched me.

We went back for the boat, moving it to the top of the slope, then we
went to get the last of the gear.  Moving the canoe down the slope was
as tricky as I expected it would be.  I tied a long rope to it, then I
had Sam brace herself and steady the boat, letting the rope out as I
eased it down, stopping when the rope ran out, to have her move farther
down.  When we'd gotten everything down and loaded into the canoe, we
set sail once more.

We paddled out into the middle of the lake and saw the island that
would be home.  But we passed it by for what we saw around a bend in
the shore.  From over the top of a cliff poured a rather spectacular
waterfall, the water going straight down perhaps a hundred feet to
splash into the lake below.  We brought the boat closer and to a sandy
shore beside where the falls were, stepping out and pulling the boat
onto the beach.  We both were speechless, taken in by the beauty of
this area.  Sam took off her shoes and socks and her skirt to wade out
into the water.

"It's almost warm," she said.

It was nice, warmer than the lakes we'd passed through before, and
clean, you could see down quite far in the water.  You could probably
drink it without any problems, but I had tablets to add to water that
would make it safe to drink, and there was no sense taking chances.

Sam walked back to the boat, stripped off her tube top, then waded back
out and dove in.  I joined her a moment later, swimming out almost
under the falls, feeling the force of the water pounding down from
above.  I found a place where I could stand, Sam came to me and hooked
her chain around my neck, and we kissed each other with the roar of the
falls in our ears.

I stepped through Sam's ankle chain to let her bring her feet up behind
me and she wrapped her legs around my waist.  By rubbing herself
against me, she quickly brought my cock to an erect state whereupon I
reached under her leg to guide it into her.  Fucking under water is not
the best thing to do, because vigorous thrusting can push water up into
a woman in a place that water should not go.  Careful and gentle
stroking however, combined with having her pressed close to me, and the
rather exotic setting we'd found ourselves in all worked their magic on
us, making our resulting orgasms spectacularly intense.

With Sam still wrapped around me, my dick still impaling her, I carried
her to shallow water to let her disentangle herself from me.  Then we
lay on the sandy beach for a while, soaking up the sun while we came
down from our high.  After a nice little rest, we went back to the boat
to see about setting up camp.

The island was far enough from the waterfall that the noise wouldn't be
too bothersome.  Tall trees filled one end of the small island, a rocky
hill took up the middle part, and the other end was mostly bare rock
with a few shorter trees and small bushes.  The most obvious place for
the tent was a fairly flat spot near to the water and open to the full
day's sun.  A fallen log served as a dock for the canoe.  Someone had
taken the time to build a table, rather crude but perfectly
serviceable, near to the fire pit.  Many of the tent pegs hit rock just
an inch or two down, so I used short pieces of rope and heavy rocks to
hold down the corners of the tent.

We set a tarp over the tent, strung up some lines for another over the
table, then got busy on making lunch.  Neither of us had dressed from
our swim before, we'd only rubbed sunscreen over each other so we
wouldn't get burned in the afternoon sun.  We hadn't seen anyone since
leaving the main route a day ago.  I had little doubt that we would be
undisturbed by other people during our stay here.  After eating our
soup and grilled cheese sandwiches, we just lay on the sun-warmed rocks
at the end of the island.

"That last trail we took to get here," I said, "it didn't look like
anyone had used it for some time.  I didn't see any footprints."

"Such a pretty spot," Sam said.  "It's hard to believe that it isn't
packed with people."

"Well, you know what we had to go through to get here.  I have a
feeling we won't be getting many visitors."

"The local people must know of this place," she said.

"I bet there's lots of spots around this part of the country that are
nice like this.  Probably a lot easier to get to too."

We did pretty much nothing but lay around naked on the rocks sunning
ourselves, going in for a swim from time to time, and cuddling, holding
each other close, relaxing.

Towards evening when the sun got low and the air cooled off, we put on
some clothes, then made a start on dinner.  I had Samantha slice up
some potatoes and onions, fresh green beans, while I took the canoe
over to the mainland to gather more firewood along the shore.  Sam
cooked the vegetables and I grilled a couple nice steaks over the fire,
we had bread and wine, the rest of the apple pie for dessert.

After supper, I took Sam around the lake, letting her relax in the
front of the boat while I paddled.  Then, after taking a good wash in
the water, we sat around the fire talking and listening to the radio
until it was time for bed.

The first three days we spent much as any couple out camping would,
save for the fact we were nude most of the time, and that Samantha had
chains around her wrists and ankles.  I was pleased at how well she
took to having the chains on her, getting used to them so quickly and
never once complaining about having to wear them all the time.  She
told me a few times how hot she felt walking around chained up like
that, displaying herself that way for all to see, not that there was
anyone else but me around to see her.

"This one is for you, Master," she'd say, referring to herself,
kneeling before me and presenting herself to me.  My own sweet little
sex slave, I'd think to myself.  I was powerless to resist her charms.

There was sort of a path that led up to the top of the waterfall.  It
had looked like it would be a long hike, so I packed a lunch and we
took the boat over, then made the climb through the forest and along
rocky hillsides, ever upwards.  Several times I'd have to carry
Samantha, because she just couldn't negotiate the fallen trees or the
high steps over rocks with her short ankle chain.  But we made it,
sitting on a high hilltop eating lunch, looking out over a vast plain
that the river flowed through to then tumble over the cliff and down
into our lake.

One of the many highlights of the trip was diving off a rock perch on
the side of a cliff and down into the deep water of the lake below.  It
would take about a half hour to claw our way along the side of the hill
to the spot.  Sam was keen to do it and she convinced me to try it with
her.  We stood side by side on the ledge about thirty feet above the
lake, our toes hanging off the edge.

"Hit the water feet first," she instructed me.  "Hold your nose," she
glanced down, "and you better hang on to your balls too."

"Uh huh," I muttered.

She counted to three and we both leapt off, flying through the air
before knifing into the water of the lake.  Down I went, the water
several feet below the surface as cold as ice.  Then we'd surface,
laughing and whooping, eager to go again.

The weather was cooperating, remaining warm and sunny by day, cooler at
night, but not unpleasantly so.  We found a couple of other trails
around, short walks in the woods, not really leading to anywhere.  The
river exiting from our lake became impassable after a mile or so,
blocked by a long stretch of rocky rapids.  I searched for a trail that
we could walk, to see what was on the other side of the rapids, but I
didn't find any easy way around, so we paddled back.  I borrowed a line
off the tarp and we did some laundry; cum-soaked towels and a blanket
or two.

On the third day, I baited a hook, tossed a line over the side of the
canoe, and snagged a lovely lake trout that made us a fine dinner.
That evening as we sat by the fire, I could tell that Samantha was
mentally preparing for something, looking towards me at times with
expectation in her eyes.  I knew that look, what it meant.  I waited
until she asked me.

"Master?"

"Yes, little one?"

"Master, are you going to put a lock on me tonight?"

"Would you like me to?"

"You said you would."

"And so I did," I said.  "Which one would you like first?"

I got up and went into the tent, into my clothes bag to find one of her
locks.  I'd put tape over each one so they didn't get accidentally
locked being tossed around in the bag, and I peeled the tape from the
hole in the lock as I returned to her.  She had decided, I saw.  She
was sitting on her mat, her feet close together on mine.  I lay down
beside her, kissed her pretty little toes, then slipped the padlock
through the links of the chain around each ankle and clicked it closed.

Samantha's range of travel suddenly became limited to around our
campsite, unless I decided to pick her up and carry her off someplace.
Even sitting on the box privy took on a new meaning for her.  Before,
with the short chain between her ankles, she could barely manage to
spread her feet far enough apart so her ass didn't thump down on the
rough seat.  Now, not only did her ass bang down as she sat, but she
had to slide it back a little across the seat, and getting up was
indeed a struggle.

She'd shuffle her feet back and forth, trying to walk on the uneven
rock around the campsite.  She'd try hopping, but that was just as
difficult to do.  The loose chain would get underfoot, making her
stumble, and she'd go down, calling for me to come and help her.  I'd
go to her and help her up, taking her in my arms and holding her close.
She'd tremble against me, but not from rage or annoyance at her
bondage.  Not discomfort, not pain or fear.  She'd press herself
against me, making little mewing sounds.  She needed that which I could
give her.  Freedom, yes, eventually.  But it was my cock that she
craved, for the master to take his little creature to his tent and
ravage her, to carry his captive into his lair and roughly take her.

That first night with her feet locked close together, her lust for me
increased tenfold.  I'd barely even touched her and she was lost to it,
writhing in the sleeping bag, moaning loud and crying out her need.
I'd satisfy her, for a while, until her horniness built up again, her
role as the helpless little animal captured her soul once more, and
we'd fuck long and hard again.  By morning, I was shagged out.
Samantha had crawled out of the tent in the dawn light, leaving me to
sleep in, I'd hoped.

"Master, Master.  Help me," I heard.

I went to her aid and saw her lying down on the rock, her ankle chain
wedged into a crack in the stone slab.  She was struggling to free
herself, her hair plastered all over her, her body shaking.  I went to
her and calmed her down; she clung to me as I poked at the chain with a
thin stick where it was wedged, shifting a link around so I could pull
it free.

"Oh thank you, master," she said, rubbing herself against me.


"You'd better calm down Samantha," I said.  "Disturbing my sleep like
that.  I'm going to have to punish you."

I didn't think that would get her to calm down any, but she did settle
a bit.  Her enthusiasm over her captivity was starting to rub off on
me, getting me fired up to take this thing further than I had expected
it would go.  I was staring at a big tree over on the side of the
island, and Samantha's eyes followed mine, to a thick branch sticking
out.  A hanging tree, it was.

I picked up Sam and carried her to the tree, setting her down
underneath the thick branch that was maybe twenty feet off the ground.
I put her feet up on a rock and told her to wait, then I went to the
rope that held up our food container.  The plastic tote box had a snap
lid that would deter any ambitious chipmunk, so I left it on the table,
untied the rope, and returned to Sam with it.  I'd picked up this rope
before we left.  Soft, thick, braided nylon.  Three eights inch thick,
forty feet of it.  It was lightweight, and had been handy when we'd
lowered the canoe down that last trail.  It would be perfect now, as I
expected it would be when I'd bought it.

Pushing Sam's chains up her legs as far as I could, I wound the rope
around her ankles three times, then passed the end between them twice
and tied a couple of knots.  The other end I threw over the branch,
getting it on the first try.  Smiling to myself, I wound the rope
around the tree trunk a couple times, then, holding the end, I lifted
Sam's feet up into the air.

I pulled up the slack, then wrapped my arm around her legs to hoist her
higher.  Pulling the slack up again, I took hold of her around her
waist and lifted, pulled up the rope, then again, raising her higher.
Her head left the ground and I got my arm under her shoulder.  Her
fingertips left the ground and I pushed her up once more, then, keeping
tension on the rope, I wound it around the tree a couple more times,
walked the end to another, thinner tree, and tied it off.  Samantha
hung suspended by her feet, only the tips of her long hair barely
brushing the ground as she swung back and forth slightly.  There was a
root from the tree partially uncovered right beneath her.  I used a
stick to dig under it a bit, until I could slip a rope underneath.
Then I went to find a piece of rope.  I tied the center of Sam's wrist
chain down to the root, pulling it tight, but not unbearable so.  When
I'd finished I stepped back to look.  An absolutely amazing sight.

"Master?" Sam's little lost one's voice called to me.

I bent down on one knee to look directly into her eyes.

"Yes, my pet?"

She paused a moment, unsure.  "Nothing."

I reached up to brush her erect nipples with the backs of my fingers.
Then standing, I said, "I'm going to finish my nap now.  Don't be
making any noise."

I went back to the tent and crawled inside.  I'd tied the flaps open
but the screen hung down.  Although I had a perfect view of my little
chained wood nymph hanging upside down from a tree, I doubted that she
could see me.  Obviously I wasn't going to go to sleep, but I did lay
there for perhaps an hour, maybe even dozing from time to time, but
always on the alert for any kind of distress from my precious one.

I heard her chains tinkling and I opened my eyes to see her twisting
and shaking.  She stopped, and I noticed a rather large fly buzzing
around her.  It landed, probably on her ass, and a moment later she
shook herself again, trying to rid herself of the bothersome insect.
It was then that I decided that she'd had enough.  I took up a piece of
the newspaper that we'd been using to start fires with and I went
outside.  Pretending to be reading the paper, I strolled casually over
to where she was tied.  When she saw me, I said, "Good morning pet.
Sleep well?"

"Master, this fly."  She twisted her ass to me.

"Mmmm?  Oh dear!" I said.

I rolled up the paper and nailed that sucker, smashing the fly and then
watching as a bright red spot formed on her bum where I'd hit her.

"Ouch!  Thank you master."

"Coffee would be nice," I said to her.  "Oh, that's O.K.  I'll get it."

I turned and left her, set up the stove and got some water going.  I
poured a glass of juice, sipped it, then strolled back to her.  I held
her head up and tipped the glass to her lips.  She drank a few sips,
upside down, then sputtered and choked.  I dropped her head to let her
deal with orange juice up her nose while I made the coffee.

After I'd made the coffee and had a couple sips, I figured she'd had
enough.  I untied the rope holding her hands down, then spread a pad
under her and carefully untied the main rope.  I unwound it from the
tree trunk until her weight started to pull her down and I slowly let
her down to the ground again.  I carried her over to the table, laid
her on the other pad, and gave her a cup of coffee.

"Did you like that, Sam?" I asked.

"Kind of.  Got a hell of a headache, though."

I got her a couple aspirins from the first aid kit, then we spent
a couple of quiet hours inside the tent, catching up on the sleep we
missed last night, a wet washcloth over Sam's forehead.  She felt
better later on and I fixed us a nice brunch, the last two eggs, the
last of the ham, and toast with jam.  There was one more frozen meal
left, now thawed, then we'd be into the freeze dried and packaged
powdered stuff.  Of that, there was a lot, so we wouldn't have to
resort to digging up grubs for a while yet.

The day was warm and humid, and we spent most of the time in the water.
Sam couldn't swim anymore with her feet locked together, but she could
float with a lifejacket buckled around her middle, and that's what we
did.  Later on in the afternoon, sitting on the rocks looking out at
the lake, we started talking.

"Master, I'm sorry for making you mad this morning."

"I wasn't mad," I said.

"For bothering you all night, I was just so horny for some reason."

"It was nice, Sam.  I wasn't mad about it."

"But what, then." she asked.  "Why did you tie me up in the tree?"

"I thought it would be fun.  Didn't you like it?"

"Well, yes, I did like it.  But you looked so mad at the time, when you
were lifting me up there."

"Mad with arousal, perhaps.  You're getting so into your submissive
role incited my dominant side to take over.  I had an idea that I
wanted to try, and I just went ahead and did it.  I should have talked
to you first about it.  I'm sorry if I hurt you, but, I guess I did
just let myself get carried away a little."

"You didn't hurt me, master.  You have never hurt me."  Sam giggled.
"Well, you know what I mean.  You've never made me feel bad.  Except
for this morning.  I thought you were pissed off at me and that's why
you hung me in the tree."

"Damn," I said.  "You know what this is, don't you?  All the time we've
been together, all that we've done together, this is our first
misunderstanding."

"Are we having a lovers' quarrel?"

I laughed.  "No, not yet.  I should have told you first, what I was
going to do.  But doms get into the same kind of head space that subs
do, you know.  Only instead of letting go like you do, we have to seize
the moment and take total charge.  Take over completely.  I treated you
like an object this morning, and I shouldn't have.  I wanted to do
something to you, and I went ahead and did it.  Your not letting me
sleep last night was just an excuse I used to let myself do it to you.
I am sorry, Sam.  I should have talked to you about it first."

"Please don't apologize master," she said.  "I understand now.  I did
like what you did, I was just upset because I thought you were mad at
me."

"Look at yourself Sam.  You're naked and chained up.  I hold the power
to get you out of here.  How could I ever be mad at you, for letting me
hold your life in my hands?  For your giving yourself so completely to
me?  The gift of your self, Samantha, there is none so sweet."

Our relationship's first crisis, smoothed over so pleasantly.  As the
skies began to darken, so too did Sam's mood brighten.  The weather
reports had called for a change, and that change became apparent soon
after.  We took another swim, prepared an early dinner, and ate while
waiting for the storm.  The sky got darker, the wind picked up,
although in the shelter of the hills around we didn't get much of it.
Up on the hills though, the trees were whipping around fiercely.  I'd
made a fire and we sat under the tarp, listening to the booming of
thunder getting closer and closer.

When the rain came, it came with a vengeance.  Carrying Sam, I made a
dash for the tent, then we held each other closely, the lightning
flashing down, the thunder echoing from all around.  With us being in
such a low area, I expected that lightning wouldn't get to us, and even
if it missed the hills and came down to the lake, the taller trees at
the other end of the island would draw a strike away from our campsite.

The lightning quickly passed by, but the rain was unabated for some
time, and we cuddled in the warm dry tent while it pounded down on the
tarp over our heads.  Samantha squirmed around, slid her wrist chain
over her feet, and brought her hands up the backs of her legs, to the
middle of her back.  She lay on her side, her back towards me.  I said
to wait for a while, to let the worst of the storm pass, just in case
we ended up flooded out.  To pass the time, Sam began to grind her bum
against me, grasping for my cock with her hands behind her, trying to
find a nice warm spot to put it into.

We had a nice slow fuck; her on her side and me snuggled up behind her.
I had hold of her wrist chain to force her hands up high, between her
shoulder blades, and I held her like that as I teasingly stroked my
stiff prick in and out of her slippery channel.  She came hard, her
hands grasping at air behind her, her feet clutching one of mine, and
she shook and writhed, screaming out with her heat, her lust.

Later on, the rain slowed to a steady drizzle and we put on clothes,
raincoats over top, and went outside to take pisses and survey the
damage.  The boat was all right, the fire pit was drowned out, and
pretty much everything else was as it should be.  The roar from the
waterfall was definitely louder now.  We went to bed early that night,
the radio telling us that the storms had been fierce in some places,
even reports of a tornado in a town not too far away.  It was only
eight thirty when we called it a night, but with little else to do, we
caught up on some much needed rest.  I'd been having second thoughts on
putting any more locks on Sam, and I expressed my concerns to her.

"The keys up in the tree could have gotten melted if lightning hit
them," I said.  "Then where would you be?"

"Chained up like a beast, I guess."

"Exactly.  Tomorrow morning I'm going to go and get them.  Then we'll
continue, O.K.?"

While I'd been talking, she'd been busy getting her hands behind her
back again.  She wriggled her fingers at me.  "Just one more, master?"

Once again, the quest for adventure won out over common sense.  I took
a lock from my bag and clicked it closed through the chains around her
wrists.

"No fucking, alright Sam?" I told her.  "Let's get some sleep."

Sam did manage to keep her hands off me until early dawn.  The light
was just beginning to be visible when I was wakened by her feet rubbing
against my leg and her hands rubbing my cock, her bum pressed tight
against my hip.  I could feel her twitching and shaking next to me and
she was making little moaning sounds.  She was already ready.  My
rolling over towards her elicited a squeal of delight, and she strained
to insert my erect cock into her, nudging it with her fingertips until
it lined up, to then slip into her.

What a nice way to wake up, I thought, and I started banging into her.
Sam reached her peak on my fourth or fifth stroke, bucking and twisting
so hard my cock was dislodged from her.  That didn't stop her though.
The sleeping bag was not zipped up and she rolled right out, face down
in a tangle of blankets and she ground her tits into the rough wool as
her orgasm went on.  I sat up to watch.  When she finally stopped
humping air and realized I was not inside her anymore, she slumped down
on the floor of the tent, gasping air like a beached fish.  I shifted
her hair off her face and her eyes fluttered open to look at me.

"Master," she said between breaths.

"Yes, my pet?"

"Good morning, master."

"And good morning to you, sweetheart," I said, sweetly.  Sam struggled
to her knees, then made it back onto our bed.  She knelt upright,
turned her head, and looked at me over her shoulder.  I got up onto my
knees and positioned myself behind her, straddling her legs and feet.
I took my cock in one hand to run the tip through her wet slit.  Sam
moaned long and low, her hands clenching and unclenching behind her
back.  I shifted a little closer, then she sank down taking my length
up inside of her.  We both lowered ourselves until I felt my balls
touch her heels, then slide down the soles of her feet.  We just stayed
like that for a while as I reached around her and caressed her breasts,
rubbed and pinched her nipples, occasionally letting a hand stray down
her tummy to finger through her pussy hair, and lower still, to flick
across her clit.  With a finger on either side, I could feel my cock
buried up to the hilt in her, her two pussy lip rings on either side of
it.

She raised herself up and I placed my hands on her hips to guide her
movements.  I grabbed a pillow and placed it where her head would go,
then she bent over, letting her face thump down on it.  Her ass went up
and I rose up onto my knees to begin to pump into her with fast, deep
strokes.  Grabbing the loose chain between her wrists and using it to
steady myself, to hold her still, I started to really give it to her.
I didn't stop when she came, I drove into her with a firm, steady
rhythm while her cunt muscles gripped me tightly.  Her hands before me
twisted uselessly in the chains that held her tight, and she screamed
loud with passions unleashed.

Even as she came down from that great orgasm, I banged her.  Her lust
quickly came to a boil again and she exploded, me holding tightly to
her chain with one hand now, the other wrapped around her waist so she
didn't buck me off her, and still I maintained that quick, hard
stroking, riding the wild beast through another massive cum.  My cum
was boiling now, my balls felt heavy with it.  I was giving voice to my
thrusts, loud grunts and yelps.  Like a huge lightning bolt it was,
starting out somewhere deep in my hindbrain, gathering strength.  Then
blasting down my spine, electrifying every nerve in my body, total
annihilation in its wake.  It blasted out of me, taking all of me along
with it.  Deep within my lovely Samantha's body I flowed.  My arm
around her waist crushed her loins tightly to me as I came and came, my
knees finally giving out and we collapsed into a sweaty heap on top of
the sleeping bag.  My heart was hammering in my chest and I could
barely pull enough air into my lungs, so wasted was I.  I lay on top of
her for what seemed like forever, unable to move, unable even to form a
coherent thought, just madly, totally in love with the sweet, chained,
creature beneath me.

Finally I gathered the energy to roll off her.  Sam was choking on her
hair, so I blindly reached out, felt around her head, to move the veil
of silky strands from off her face.  I lay on the floor of the tent,
panting and wheezing, trying to return to the living.

"Fuck Sam," I managed to gasp out, "you're gonna be the death of me
yet."

"The death of a thousand fucks," she answered breathlessly.  "That last
one must have counted for fifty."

"Damn near.  Whew!"


[part 3]

It was mid morning before we finally got going.  I had to do everything
for Sam now, carry her to the toilet, wipe her pussy, bring her back.
I put some clothes on her, a skirt and her light poncho.  I braided her
hair and tied the braid up double so it was out of her way.

"Master.  In my bag, could you get me one of my birth control pills?"

I found the package for her.

"Master.  Could you give me two, I forgot yesterday."

"Sure, Sam."

My thoughts were on getting the keys to her locks, on whether I'd see a
blackened piece of wire where I'd left them.  I made some coffee,
cooked some porridge for breakfast, held the cup so Sam could drink the
coffee, and spoon-fed her her food.  After I'd cleaned up, stashed the
food, and loaded Sam into the canoe, I paddled us the length of the
lake to the trail that led out of here.

"This was a bad idea Sam, having your hands locked like that.  You
can't do anything now."

"I know master.  But it's nice, though."

"You're supposed to be the slave, Sam.  Not the pampered pet, making me
wait on you hand and foot."

"Are you mad at me again, master?"

I laughed.  "Actually, no.  I like having to wait on you hand and
foot."

It wasn't hard to spot the place the trail started; there was a big
circle of muddy water around it.  Sure enough, the heavy rain had made
a royal mess of the path.  The steep slope, treacherous enough when it
was dry, was now a slippery, gooey mess.  I left Sam in the canoe, tied
to a tree, the boat that is, she was locked up in chains and wasn't
going anywhere, and I began to make my way upwards.  As if the mud
wasn't bad enough, couple of big trees had been blown down across the
trail, and I had to climb up over one, duck under the other.  When I
got to the top and found the branch where I'd tied the keys, they were
still there, twinkling at me in the morning's light.  I reached out,
untwisted the wire, then fastened the ring of keys to my belt.  I'd
brought the long rope with me, and at the worst part of the trail, I
tied one end to a tree, then used it to steady myself as I made my way
back down to Samantha.  When I got back to the boat, I jingled the keys
at her.

"Ta-da!"

Damned if I didn't see a flicker of sadness cross her face when she saw
her keys safely with me.  In order not to disappoint her, I left her
feet locked together and her hands locked behind her all day.

"Master?" she asked during lunch, when I'd made no move to release her.

"Yes, my pet?" I said, holding a spoon full of soup before her.


"I thought you got the keys so you could let me go."

"I said I wanted to get the keys, I didn't say anything about letting
you go.  Are you complaining?"

"No master.  I thought..." Then she caught on.  "I wanna be let go
right now," she said in a singsong voice.

"Oh dear," I said.

Sam finished eating her soup through the bit gag.  After we'd finished
lunch, I put Sam in the boat and I paddled over to the falls.  Around
the bend in the lake we saw that the size of the waterfall had almost
doubled from what it was before, runoff from the lands above, fed from
the storm.  I had made sure Sam's life jacket was securely buckled
around her middle before we set out.  With her hands and her feet
locked together, she couldn't hope to swim, and with the bit locked
between her teeth, she wouldn't be able to close her mouth against the
water; she'd fill up and sink like a rock if we went over.  I didn't
get too close to the falls either.  As we watched, a big up-rooted tree
came over, teetering on the edge for a moment, before crashing down
into the lake.  There were many branches, big and small, floating
around the base of the falls, testament to the forces unleashed by
yesterday's wild weather.

"Lucky that we had such a nice sheltered spot," I said.  "Wouldn't want
to have been camped out in the open yesterday."

"Uggk."

The water around the falls was cool and it was like someone shut off
the hot water tap in our bathtub.  A definite sign that summer was
drawing to a close.  Back at camp, we swam in the shallow water around
the island, or at least I did.  Sam bobbed.  I stayed near her while we
were in the water, keeping a hand on her, making sure she didn't float
away.

Supper that evening was dried chicken and rice from a package, but I'd
also hooked a small perch, so we had both, with some hot biscuits,
cooked in the frying pan before I did the fish.  Sam sat on a pad
beside the table while I prepared dinner.  When I was almost finished
cooking, I stopped and looked at her.

"Nukk.  Shhukk."

"Yes, my pet?  Would you like to be let go?"

"Mmmmm."  She even managed to smile around the bit.  I got her keys
from the food box, where I'd hid them, and I began with her feet.  I
opened the lock between her ankles, then I opened the one for her
hands.  Sam's wrists sprang apart and she let out a little grunt as the
muscles in her shoulders complained about having to shift to a new
position.  After she'd sat down and brought her wrist chain under her
legs and over her feet, I unlocked her gag.  Her hands lay limply in
her lap while she worked the cramp out of her jaw.  I gave her
shoulders a quick rubdown.

"How are you Sam?" I asked.

"I feel good Sir.  Thank you."

"Let's eat."

The rice dish was ready and I quickly fried the fish fillets in a
little butter, then we sat down to a nice meal.  I let Sam do the
cleanup afterwards.

It got colder that evening so I built up a big fire to keep us warm.
The forecast was for unsettled weather for the next few days, with
colder temperatures.  I asked Sam how she felt about leaving.

"I could stay here with you forever master," she said.  "But I know we
can't.  If you think that we should go, than we'll go."

"There's only a couple more freeze dried meals left," I said.  "There's
biscuit mix, and cereal.  Noodles and cheese.  I could go for a Big
Mac, extra fries."

"Or a pizza?"

"Chicken and ribs."

"And fries?"

"And gravy on the fries."

It was decided; we'd leave in the morning.  Later on, in bed, Sam asked
if I'd lock her up, tightly.

"You're not going to sleep too well," I warned her.

"That's O.K."

"You're not going to keep me up all night, are you?"

We only had the light of the candle in the tent, but she saw my grin.

"I'll try not to, sir."

The bit gag went on first and I had her put her hands behind her back,
so I could lock her wrist chain to the chain on the gag.  Her hands
were at the middle of her back.  I used a lock to lock her ankles
together.  I used another to connect her wrists together and I brought
her feet up so her heels touched her bum, then I hooked the loose chain
from her ankles onto the lock at her wrists, taking out all of the
slack, and clicking the lock closed.  That left me with one lock left,
and I looked for a place to put it.

"Mmmm.  MMMM!"

If Samantha tried to bring her feet down, the ankle chain would pull
her hands down and the wrist chain would pull the bit tighter into her
mouth.  She rolled from her stomach to her side, then over onto her
back, laying on her feet and hands.  Like that, her feet were pressed
tighter to her bum, giving her a little more slack, but her head was
pushed up causing the bit to get pulled tighter into her mouth.

"OAAAGGGH!"

She rolled back over, onto her chest.  She began to fight the chains
with the rubber bit clamped tight between her teeth.  She crossed her
ankles and spread her thighs apart.  Her labia rings twinkled in the
feeble candlelight, and I'd found the place for the fourth lock.

"Hold still Samantha," I said in a commanding voice.

I put my hand on her ankles and pressed her feet to her bum, giving her
slight comfort.  The lock was big, her rings small.  Carefully I slid
the shackle through them both, gently I pressed the lock closed, then I
laid the body of it against her flesh, and let it go.  Samantha lifted
her hips up a little, letting her pussy lips take the full weight of
the lock.

"Mmmmm."

I didn't like the way her most delicate flesh looked, stretched by the
heavy lock, but she didn't seem too troubled by it.  She lowered her
pussy down to let the lock rest on the blanket, then lifted herself up
again, letting the rough body of it slide slowly across her clit,
letting its weight pull on her labia.  She closed her thighs tightly
together, trapping the lock between them, pressing its bulk hard to
her.  Her strict bondage and the gag wedged deep within her mouth now
suddenly seemed easier for her to endure.

Sam began to slowly roll her thighs together, shifting around the big
lock pressed against her pussy.  She opened her legs a bit to let it
drop down on the blanket, then slowly humped her hips up and down as
the lock rubbed against her.  All the time her hands and her feet were
twisting within the taut chains that were pulling on the bit gag in her
mouth.  She'd lift her head up, push on the gag with her tongue to get
it seated between her teeth, then clamp her mouth down on it and ride
the lock some more.

I sat cross-legged on the floor of the tent, just watching her
struggle, touching her at times, feeling wonderment at this beautiful
beast in her valiant fight to bring herself off.  It didn't really take
long at all before she was thrashing wildly; her thighs clamped tight
together, trapping the heavy lock to her, cumming like there'd be no
tomorrow.  I lent a hand, guiding her motions, ready to catch the lock
if she let it loose, not wanting her to hurt herself, which would be
quite easy for her to do with the way she was so tightly bound.  I
slipped a hand under her and felt the juices pouring out of her,
feeling the hard lock poking out from between her clenched thighs,
vibrating almost, with the power of her cum.  She was locked tight in
the depths of an endless orgasm, shaking and writhing in the chains,
screaming loud around the bit.

Finally, I could feel the force that gripped her loosen slightly, her
shaking slowed, the tension in her chains decreased, and she began to
sink down, exhausted, onto our bed.  I pressed down on her feet to give
her some relief from the pull on her mouth.  I had the keys handy and I
tried first one, then the next, getting the right one on the third try.
I opened the lock at her wrists to let her lower her legs.

When Sam at last returned to the land of the living, I had her open her
legs and I took the lock off her rings.  After finding the right key, I
held the lock closed so it wouldn't pop open and smack her, then I
turned the key while slowly letting the shackle spring open.

"Nnunnss."

"Was that nice, Sam?" I asked.  "Did you like that?"

"Mmmm."

I had her roll over onto her side and I got in behind her.  By stroking
her breasts and nuzzling her neck around the chain, it didn't take very
long before she was ready to go again.  I slipped my cock up into her.
Sam had pretty well worn herself out before, but she did manage a weak
orgasm when I came, jerking her hands down, trying to grab me, yanking
the bit tighter into her mouth each time.

After we'd finished, I opened the lock on the gag, releasing her hands
along with it.  I leaned over and blew out the candle and we slept for
a while.  Sam's hands were free, but her wrist chain still held them
behind her back.  At some point in the night, I woke needing to pee.
Sam followed me out into the chilly night air, she knelt just outside
the tent with her feet out behind her and relieved herself, then duck
walked, or duck shuffled was more like it, back to bed.  She got her
hands back in front of her, I zipped up the tent and the bag, piled
blankets over us, then slept like a rock till morning.

The first thing I did the next morning was make a big fire.  It was
bloody cold.  I went over the map with Sam during breakfast.

"We'll get out of here, but make camp not much further along," I said.
"I don't know how hard it's going to be getting the stuff up that hill,
the trail looked pretty bad yesterday.  Might take a while."

"O.K."

I looked at her.  She looked glum.  We'd piled on all of our clothes
and Sam had a blanket wrapped around her as well.  "What's wrong, Sam?
You don't look very happy."

"I'm O.K.  Just a little sad that we're leaving."

"We can do this again next year if you want."  Her mood brightened a
bit at that, whether it was from thinking about another trip, or
hearing me say we'd still be together next year, I was unsure.  I knew,
however, that I would never part from my lovely Samantha.

We got going, eventually.  After taking the tent and tarp down, we
packed everything into the canoe.  I poked through the fire pit, taking
out the bits of foil and metal tops from frozen juice tubes that didn't
burn.  I went around the campsite, removing all traces of our stay,
leaving the place as pristine as we'd found it.  I stashed the bag of
garbage into the boat and we were off.

The slope wasn't as bad after having a day to dry out.  Not as
slippery, at least.  The rope I'd left there made it easier for Sam to
climb up, then I tied the canoe on and she pulled while I pushed.  We
got it over the fallen tree, with the higher one that leaned over the
trail I had to use my saw, to cut a few branches off underneath, to
make a tunnel we could slide the boat through.  I bundled a lot of our
gear in a tarp and we hauled that up, then I made another trip for the
last few items.

Down the other side and to the river, we paused to wash off the muck
from our legs and load up the boat.  Sam got in and I pushed it out,
then climbed in.  From the little bay, I steered north and west, away
from Shangri La.  The river seemed higher, the current stronger, but we
were travelling with it so it worked to our advantage.  Sam didn't have
to paddle, I only had to steer the boat, laying in a couple strokes
every now and then as we floated along between the high hills.  I
played out my thick rope into the water to wash the mud off it.  In a
couple of spots, tall trees had fallen into the river, blown over in
the storm.  One blocked the way so we had to get out to negotiate the
boat around it.  Around mid afternoon, we reached the long narrow lake
we'd camped at on the way in and I called a halt.

"If we camp here, we can camp again after the long portage, like we did
on the way in," I told Sam.  "I'm not in a big hurry to get back, are
you?"

"No.  That sounds good."

I got a fire going while Sam put together a pot of noodles and water
for lunch.  She made the macaroni and cheese while I set up the tent.
We mixed up some dough to make pan fried hotcakes, having a few with
jam later on.

"How long have we been out here anyway?" I asked.  We counted it up.
Our six-day trip had somehow stretched into nine days now and we still
had a ways to go.

"God, Sam," I exclaimed, "you've had those chains on for nine days now?
Are you alright?"

"God, Jim," she said mockingly, "I've never felt better."

"You must be sore, not being able to stretch out properly."

"I am a little.  But I'm not complaining," she quickly added, not
wanting to get the gag.

I laughed.  I wasn't going to gag her.  I was interested in hearing how
she felt, and I asked her to tell me.

"I've always wondered how it would be," she said, "to be chained up for
a long time like a prisoner in a dungeon or something.  I'd fanaticized
about it, thought about what it would be like.  But this," she shook
her hands, making her chain tinkle, "this trip, it's all been so nice,
really fantastic.  We had a good time, and you've been so kind to me.

"When you'd make me walk through the woods carrying stuff, I'd imagine
that there'd be someone behind me with a whip, whipping me to make me
walk faster.  Even in the boat today, all I could think about is how I
was chained up in a boat and being taken someplace, somewhere where
something bad was going to happen to me."

"Those are dark thoughts, Sam.  You know I'd never let anything bad
happen to you."

"I know you wouldn't," she added, "and I don't really want to have
something like that happen.  On the last trip, you whipped me every
day.  Each time was better than the last one.  It was wonderful, Jim.
This time you only spanked me a bit that one time.  I know you said you
didn't want to do it, that you don't think it's right.  I'll understand
if you don't want to, but could you?  Before we leave here?"

"Beat you with a stick?" I asked.

Sam smiled.  "Or with your belt."

"It's not that I don't want to, Sam.  I told you I didn't think it was
right, but it's not that I don't like doing it to you.  Watching you,
on the last trip, I had no doubt that you enjoyed it, and even when I
spanked you the other day, I saw how turned on you got.  It's when I'm
doing that, whipping you; it's hard for me to know when to stop.  It's
difficult to keep myself in control.  I'm afraid that I'll go too far
and really hurt you."

"I trust you Jim, you know that.  You told me that I've put my life in
your hands out here.  That first time, in your basement when you
whipped me?  You said you'd only give me as much as I could take.  That
made me feel safe so I could not worry so much and just enjoy it.  Last
night when you chained me up so tight, with the gag and everything, it
was awesome.  Every time I moved it hurt, all over.  But, you know,
when I was cumming?  All I could think about was if. . . Well."

"Go on," I coaxed

"If you'd been whipping me too."

I sat for a while, digesting what Samantha had told me just now.  She
looked anxious, as if she had talked too much, had perhaps pushed me
too far.

Finally, I spoke.  "Sam, I'd hoped that the bondage alone would have
been enough for you on this trip."

"It has Jim.  I've really liked being chained up for all this time."

I went on.  "I enjoy giving you pleasure, more than you know.  Seeing
you like that, all hot and bothered, and knowing it was my doing that
got you that way, it's great.  You're one of those types that can turn
pain into pleasure.  You need it, and it's something you'll have to be
careful about.  Pain slut is a term I've heard, pain junkie is another.
It's the endorphins that the body releases when under attack or in
pain.  It can get to be like a drug that you find you can't live
without.  Drugs can destroy someone's life, but drugs can be taken in
moderation too, and if you can live with keeping it under control and
not letting it control you, then we can come to some kind of
arrangement.  I'll give you your pain Sam, all that you can handle.
But I won't let it ruin you.  You can have what I give, but you have to
trust that I'll know when you need it and when to give it."

Sam thought for a moment.  "I love you master," she said.

"This might be our last night with no people around," I said.  "Do you
want to make it special?"

Sam asked me if I had something in mind.

Oh, I had an idea, all right.  "It's going to involve you hanging
upside down from a tree," I said.

I set Sam busy with fixing supper while I scouted a location for the
scene I had in mind.  A little ways into the bush, I came across a
clearing of sorts and the ruin of an old building of some kind.  Just a
few logs left, an old cabin it could have been.  It was in a low valley
so we'd be hidden from view of the lake, and the area was pretty clear
except for one tall tree, a thick branch sticking out about twenty feet
up.  Just when you need something, it falls in your lap.  Isn't life
grand?

There was a swampy area with a small stream a little further back in
the woods.  I scraped clean an area for a fire near to the tree.  I
knew you're not supposed to make fires except in a fire pit in a
campsite, but this was an emergency.  The park rangers would
understand, I thought as I worked.  I gathered up dead wood from
around, then I went back to our camp site for supper.  While we ate, I
filled Sam in on the details of the plan.

"There's a place not far from here," I said.  "We'll go after dark.  It
might get cold tonight but I'll make a fire to keep me warm.  You'll be
hanging from a tree by one foot."

"Won't that hurt?" Sam asked.

I gave her "the look."

"Oh."

"I'll make this good for you Sam.  I plan to have fun, too.  I won't be
hitting you too hard, but I think it's going to be a long session."

I'd seen that image on the net someplace, maybe in one of those
Japanese rope bondage sites.  A girl hanging from one foot, a rope tied
around her ankle.  I was trying to think if the rope hung on the inside
or the outside of the foot.  A foot can turn inwards, but not the other
way.  I went to Sam, who was doing the dishes down by the lake.  I had
her sit and I took her foot in my hands, feeling around her ankle and
twisting her foot.  I used her chain, putting it on one side, then the
other, pulling on it a bit.

"The outside," I said.

"What?"

"Oh nothing," I said.  "Just checking."

We sat around the fire after supper, Sam's anticipation, and mine,
growing.  The air wasn't getting as cold as it had the past few days.
Another sign that the gods of bdsm were looking down upon us.  Finally,
when it started to get dark I stood up, then began to gather up the
things I'd need.

I had Sam wear only her thicker poncho, no shoes, no skirt.  Her hair I
brushed out, and left loose down her back.  I made her carry the coil
of thick rope.  There was still enough light that she could see the
path ahead so she didn't step on any sharp rocks or sticks along the
way. We walked over the hill and down into the valley.

Sam gasped when she saw the tree, the only thing in the little
clearing.  I took the rope from her and shook it out, then tossed the
end up over the branch.  I tied the end to her wrist chain, then
hoisted her arms up over her head.  I walked the other end around the
tree trunk a few times and tied it off.  Then I got busy starting the
fire.  I sat with my back to her while waiting for the flames to catch,
and I thought about what was about to occur.  Finally I got up and went
to her.  I could see in her eyes she was getting aroused, and I
detected a little trepidation in there as well.

"We're going to use a safe word this time Sam," I said to her.  "You
know what that is?"

"I say a certain word and we stop." she replied.

"We'll pause," I told her.  "We'll stop the scene and I'll ask you
what's wrong.  If you want to change something and continue, I will.  I
don't think your foot's going to get injured from this, but if you feel
it's getting torn off you tell me, O.K.?  We've still got a lot of
walking to do tomorrow, or the day after.  You might need to rest up
tomorrow."

"All right."

"The safe word is "Safeword".  O.K.?  If you need to use it, I'd better
hear it."

"Yes sir."

"Good."

I untied the rope and lowered her hands.  I untied it from her chain
and told her to take off her poncho, then I tied her wrist chain back
on and hoisted her hands up, higher this time, stretching her until she
was up on her toes.  Then I tied her off.  While there was still a bit
of light remaining, I left her there while I went off into the bush to
find some sticks.

It didn't take me too long to find three nice sticks, each a bit
thicker then the other.  I set them at the base of the tree, then went
over and tossed some more wood on the fire.  Before it got totally
dark, I took a coffee cup and went to the swampy area behind us.
There, I scooped up some of the black, mucky clay, putting it into the
cup and returning to the tree once more.

All that was needed, I thought, was some eerie music, a group of Druids
chanting or something.  A scene from the TV show Xena came to mind, an
Amazon ritual of some kind.  I took my shirt off, kicked off my shoes.
Put more wood on the fire and stood, swaying slightly as it caught and
blazed, hearing the unheard rhythms of something primitive.  I didn't
look at Samantha, but she was probably staring at me as though I'd lost
my mind or something.

The sounds of the crackling fire in the still night air would do.  I
bent low to snatch the coffee cup of slime and with three bold steps I
stood before her, looking deep into her eyes.  Slowly, I scooped up two
fingers of muck, then drew them across my bare chest, making a line.  I
painted another line of goo across my forehead and two vertical ones
down my cheeks.  My eyes never left hers.

Two more fingers of the black, sticky clay and I made a line from Sam's
left shoulder, down the inside of her breast, and down to her navel.
Another scoop, and down her other side making a curved Vee shape.  I
daubed some muck over each of her nipples, then set the cup down by the
base of the tree.

"Master?"

"Quiet!" I said.  "The captive shall not speak."

I picked up the thickest stick.  I'd snapped it off a dead tree and it
was dry, no give to it at all.  I had no intentions in hitting her hard
with it; there'd be only a deep pain and much bruising if I did.  Sam's
eyes grew wide as I approached her with it and I put it around her in
the small of her back, grabbed the other end, and used it to draw her
body tightly against mine.  I pressed my mouth hard to hers, forced my
tongue past her teeth, and kissed her passionately.  I used the thick
stick to run up and down her body, hitting her lightly in places,
poking her with it as if I was tormenting a beast of some kind.  Sam's
emotions cycled between arousal, fear, and annoyance when I'd stop and
let the stick lay against her skin, pressing it into her flesh, letting
her feel its presence.  I'd pause like that for long minutes with my
eyes closed, listening to the beat of the log drums in my mind.

I was unsure of the time.  I opened my eyes and looked up.  The
crescent of the new moon was rising over the swamp behind us.  I moved
to the base of the tree, set the stick down, and untied Sam's rope.
Her hands dropped and she stumbled a bit, caught unawares by the sudden
change in her stance.  I moved to her, guided her down to lay on the
ground, her bum beneath the branch.  I untied the rope from her chain,
then tied it around her foot using a French bowline knot.  This is a
normal bowline knot, sometimes called a rescue knot, but the rope goes
around the load three times, lending more of the rope's surface to
spread the strain over more of her ankle.  I placed the rope around her
right ankle and fed the end through the twist.  I wrapped three turns
around her ankle and through the twist, then around behind and down
through, adjusted the loops, and pulled the knot up tight.  I
positioned the knot along the outside of her foot.  I raised her foot
up, and with her short hobble chain her other foot had to follow.  I
pulled the slack, then walked the rope around the trunk of the tree.
The bark was rough on this tree, so I got enough friction to hold her
weight with one turn.  Hooking my arm around her leg, I raised her up
and pulled the rope.  As before, I got Sam up off the ground, lifting
her and pulling up the slack in the rope, keeping tension on it while I
reached to get an arm around her again.  I raised her up until her
lovely long hair was free of the ground.  Then, keeping the rope tight,
I walked it around the tree a few more times until I reached the end
and slid it under a turn to tie it off.  I turned to look.

Samantha was hanging from the thick branch by one foot.  Her other leg
was bent slightly, the foot tethered to the higher one by her ankle
chain.  Her body made a slow revolution as the rope settled with her
weight, stretching a bit, the strands untwisting a little.  Just enough
to turn her around once and let me get the full effect.  I was drawn to
her.  I had to lay hands on that deliciously erotic vision before me.
I stepped up to her to gently, reverently touch her thigh.  I felt the
muscles in her leg quivering with the strain.  I ran my hand up to her
knee, her calf, stretched tight.  Her other leg hanging from the chain
felt soft, loose.  Her thighs were parted slightly, and in the
firelight I could see her pussy lips, the shiny rings, her obvious
arousal.

I'd told myself that I'd push this thing straight through, and a big
part of me wanted to take up the switch and begin.  But I felt such
empathy for my pretty captive creature, plus, I just wanted to know.  I
got down on my knees and faced her.  I looked into her eyes and spoke.
Quietly, I asked.  "Are you all right Sam?"  Sam's face was very red
with the blood pooling in her head.  I was having the opposite problem,
but never mind.

"May the captive speak?" she asked.

I chuckled softly.  "Yes.  Tell me how you feel."

"It's not as bad as I thought it would be, Sir.  I feel the pull on my
foot, but it's not hurting me."

"That's good, yes?"

"Yes.  Sir?  It's hard to think with the blood pounding in my head."

"Is that bad?"

"I...No."

"Good."

She was deep into that special place that only a submissive person
knows, or can truly understand.  Softly, I touched her lips with my
finger.  My eyes were drawn to the lines of mud I'd painted on her
chest earlier.  As I stood up, I followed them.  A big arrow pointing
upwards, to her center.  I placed a finger there, between her thighs,
between the lips of her pussy.  I rubbed her a little there, feeling
her heat and her wetness.  I felt Sam's hands touch my knees, then her
fingers started to work their way up my legs.  I should have locked her
hands behind her, I thought to myself.  But then they'd just be in the
way later.  She reached for the zipper of my shorts and I stepped back
away from her.

"The captive shall not touch!" I said loudly.

Sam's hands dropped and she brought her foot up to close her legs.  Her
chains tinkled as she moved.  She'd been taken aback by my sharp
command, and she was unsure as to what was happening or what she'd done
to incur my wrath.  I stood waiting.  Her foot lowered to the chain's
limit after a few moments and I gazed hungrily at her open slit once
more.

Stepping behind her, I pushed my face between those lovely thighs and
touched my tongue to her clit, inhaling her heady musk.  Sam's thighs
trembled as I slowly drew my tongue through her slit, tasting her
sweat, mixed with the bittersweet tang of her heat.  I placed my hands
on her thighs, pressing to open her wider, then I feasted on her
delicious center.  Hooking my tongue through a ring, I pulled it into
my mouth, stretching the skin, then nibbling on her chewy lip.  I did
the same to the other one, biting down as hard as I dared on that soft
flap of skin, hearing only a low growl of lust from Samantha.  Except
for that initial, brief contact, I avoided her clit.  This scene was
not about getting her off.  Well, it was, but not in any traditional
sense.  I'd be pushing limits this night, my own.  Of what Samantha's
limits were, I still had no real clue.

I licked her pussy furiously, drawing the lips into my mouth and
flicking my tongue across the slippery inner surfaces, pushing in as
deep as I could go.  Then, broad strokes of my tongue, lapping at her
from asshole to just short of her oh-so-sensitive clitty.  She'd buck
her ass back, trying to gain that extra quarter inch, and I'd lift off
for a few seconds, driving her mad with frustration.

When she was just on the edge, just about to cum, I stepped back and
away from her, leaving her swinging slightly as she pressed her thighs
together, twisting and writhing in a futile effort to cum.  I waited as
she came down, until her foot dropped, snapping the ankle chain tight,
and she hung still, breathing hard, moaning occasionally with need.

I went to the fire and threw on more wood.  Then I took up a stick, the
thinnest one.  I stood to her side, listening, to that strange music,
the beat of drums, in my head.  The drumbeats reached a crescendo, and
stopped.  The logs in the fire shifted, the wood popping once, twice,
loudly, sending a column of sparks high into the air.  I swung the
switch hard striking Sam's ass cheek square across, making her yelp in
surprised pain.  Without giving her a chance to adjust to the shock, I
swung again.  And so it began.  This was a nice stick I'd found, good
and springy, lots of snap to it.  Over and over I smacked her.  Her
motions set her swinging and twisting on the rope, presenting me with
new targets as I simply stood there slashing out with the stick.  I was
barely even aware of where my blows were landing.  With her strung up
like she was, there was an ever present number of juicy targets
available for the switch to seek out.  I fell deep into my role as The
Thrashing Machine, the giver of pain, torturer of flesh.

Sam had cum, I was vaguely aware, soon after I'd begun.  Her screams of
passion loud in the still night air, a jet of girl cum arcing from her
pussy, dribbling down her body.  The wood in the fire popped again,
sparks shooting high, my arm swinging in an easy rhythm, painting red
coloured lines across her beautiful skin.  Back and forth, upwards,
downwards.  I worked the stick over her.  There was something we'd
talked about, I was thinking.  A safeword.  Was that it I was hearing?
No.  Sam was moaning gibberish punctuated by loud shrieks as another
massive orgasm ripped through her.  She kicked out with her free foot,
snapping the hobble chain tight, the steel links ringing sweetly.  I
reached up and slashed down, the spring of the wood following the arch
of her sole, contacting the bottom of her left foot in a stinging line
of exquisite fire.  Again I slashed her there, following her foot
upwards as her leg spasmed and straightened.  I stretched to smack her
other foot, the one caught by the rope, and she shook, kicking out hard
to the extent of her chain, cumming hard again.

It continued without pause, my slashing at her writhing form hanging by
one foot from a tree.  My lovely Samantha's body, her legs, even on her
arms, criss-crossed with nasty looking stripes.  With the dim
firelight, I would not know the true extent of the damage till
morning's light.  And so, somewhat oblivious to what I was really
doing, seeing and hearing only the fire in Samantha reaching heights
ever higher, us both playing our appointed roles to the hilt, it
continued.

I felt and I heard the fibres of the stick in my hand begin to let go.
I stopped and felt along its length.  There was a soft spot near the
middle where the wood had split open.  Walking in a trance-like state
to the base of the tree, I paused.

The fire had burnt down to embers with just a few feeble licks of flame
left, flickering pitifully.  I turned to Samantha, saw her hanging
there, and heard her sobbing softly.  Her breath hitched in her chest
as she moaned, trembling, and her body reacted to the hurting in the
only way it knew how, by pushing another tiny cum through her exhausted
body.

I took up the flashlight to shine it upon her.  The sight that greeted
me shocked me to my very core.

"Oh my God," I mumbled softly.  "What have I done."

Her skin had small cuts in several places, tiny spots that had leaked a
few drops of blood.  She was crossed with bright red lines everywhere.
She hung lifelessly now as I played the light over her and I began to
grasp the real extent of what I'd done to her.  But as I bent down to
see her face, holding the light between us, her eyes flickered open and
she looked at me.  Her eyes held the spark of the universe in them,
bright, happy, ever so alive.

"M...Master?"

"Yes, little one?" I managed.

Her body trembled and she smiled, a little aftershock shook her.

"Master.  Safeword."

I'd brought a soft blanket, which I spread, out under her.  I got the
rope untied and slowly, carefully, I lowered her down.  It was as I was
untying the rope from her ankle that she lifted her head, wincing in
pain as she did so, and spoke to me.

Her low, husky voice, strong and steady.  "It's so beautiful, Master.
Thank you.  Thank you."

"Sam, you look a mess," I told her.  "I think we've gone too far here."

"Oh no, Sir.  You were wonderful.  It's all absolutely perfect."

"We'll see how you feel in the morning," I said.  "Let's go."

I gently bundled her up in the soft cotton blanket and, leaving
everything except the flashlight, I carried her back to camp.  There, I
set Sam down near the water.  I had the fire prepared and I lit it,
then got a washcloth from inside the tent.  Sam was sitting up when I
returned, and I wet the cloth in the cool lake water, then began to
carefully clean the dried mud, sweat, and blood from her.  After I'd
cleaned her off and examined her more closely, I saw that the places
she was cut weren't quite as bad as I'd first thought.  It wasn't good,
but at least I felt there'd be no real permanent damage.  Sam was wide
awake as I cleaned her, touching me gently, lovingly, her eyes dancing,
bright with life.

I felt around her ankle where she'd been strung up and she groaned
softly.  I pressed my fingers in a bit and she groaned louder.  I'd
hurt her there and I could feel a bit of swelling beginning.  Dipping
the cloth in the cool water, I laid it on her ankle, under the chain.
I daubed some antibiotic cream on her injuries, rubbed her everywhere
else with the skin lotion I had while she drank a glass of juice I'd
given her.

I moved her closer to the water and had her sit so she could soak her
foot in its coolness.  A little later on, we were sitting around the
fire, bundled in blankets, talking.

"Are you feeling better, Sam?" I asked her.

"I've never felt better.  That was really nice, Jim.  Thanks."

"You must be sore."

Sam giggled.  "Everywhere.  That's what's so nice about it; everything
hurts as much as everywhere else.  You're really good at it, Sir."

"Hrump," I grunted.  "We'll see how it looks in the light of day."

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Sam.  Samantha?"

"Yes sir?"

"I love you."

"I love you," she answered.

It must have been the middle of the night when I carried Sam into the
tent and put her to bed.  I gave her another gentle rubdown with the
skin lotion and it seemed to help ease some of her pain.  Her ankle
that she'd been hanging from had swollen up a bit more, and I kept a
close eye on it throughout the night.  If it swelled too much, her
chain would tighten up on her and strangle her foot.  I had the hacksaw
blade in the tent pole in case I had to cut her chain off, but I was
hopeful that it wouldn't come to that.  I soaked the washcloth in cool
water again and wrapped it around her ankle.

I slept on and off throughout that night, laying beside my sweet girl,
my poor tortured little creature, or sitting alone out by the fire,
wondering how things had gone as far as they did in the clearing behind
us.  I ran the scene through my mind, watched myself grow ever more
callous in my actions towards her.

I'd given her an out, the safeword.  But it hadn't been until the end,
until after, and she must have realized that I was stopping the scene,
that she'd said it.  She, I began to realise, had given me the out, had
permitted me to stop.

Could she have taken more?  Was she left wanting more?  Had I unleashed
a monster within that beautiful girl that had become more precious than
life to me?

The chirps of birds signalled the end of night and I noticed a faint
glow in the eastern sky.  I went to her.  Feeling around her ankle, my
cold hands waking her.  She stared lovingly into my eyes.

"Morning gorgeous," I said.

Sam winced as she shifted to a sore spot, or a spot more sore.  I felt
her ankle had swollen bigger, the chain around it snug, but not yet
dangerously tight.  My hands infused coolness into her injured foot as
she warmed me.

"What time is it?" she asked me.

"Dawn," I said.  "Early.  Go back to sleep."

"Need to pee," she stated.

I helped her up and out of the tent.  I supported her as she squatted
outside and relieved herself.  I helped her to her feet and she tested
her ankle a bit.  It didn't seem like there was anything too seriously
wrong with it, certainly not broken.  Slightly sprained, perhaps.  I
held her as she hobbled down to the water to soak her foot in the cold
water.

Now, with the brighter light, I could better see the pains I'd caused
her.  Two of the spots where I'd cut her skin had bled a little more
and I fetched the antibiotic cream, some tissues, and a roll of tape.
I bandaged Sam in four or five spots before I was satisfied, She,
watching me, looked upon me with such love and devotion that I had to
pause and kiss her tenderly.

"It's all right, master," she said in response to the worried look I
had.

"I know Sam," I said.

I didn't like to see her all marked up like that.  But she had wanted
me to do it, and there'd been no doubt she'd derived great pleasure
from the session.  Who was I to deny her that?  I made her a glass of
juice and gave her a couple of aspirins while she soaked her foot in
the lake.  Later on, I carried her back to bed, laying down beside her,
feeling her, feeling the rough welts upon her precious skin.  Sam
slept, as did I, after a while.  Hunger woke me at some point and I
carefully got up so as not to wake Samantha.  I pulled on some clothes
and went out to make some coffee.  Finding only one cup, I remembered
having left things back at the tree in the clearing behind, so I went
to get them.  Over the hill and at the top I paused, staring long at
the tree I'd hung Sam from, the thick rope still looped over the
branch.  I slowly walked towards it.  The campfire, a ring of ashes
left.  Trampled down grasses and plants.  The place had a feel to it
now, you could sense something evil happened there.  I pulled on the
rope to bring it down and coiled it up.  Sam's poncho, thrown
carelessly aside.  My shirt.  I used a branch to scatter the ashes of
the fire, attempting to erase the evidence of that scene last night,
trying to diffuse the thoughts running through my mind.  I gathered up
the things I'd left and returned to camp.  Sam must have heard me
bustling around.  While I made the coffee, I heard her chains jingling.
A minute later, I saw her come out of the tent.  She smiled when she
saw me, then wandered off to the toilet.  I watched her hobble back and
come to me, then she placed her hand on my arm.

"Sam," I began, "I'm sorry for..."

She raised her hand, placed a finger on my lips.  "Please, Master," she
said.  "No more."

"But."

"No," she said.  "Yesterday I asked you to do something for me.  You
did it and made it the most beautiful thing.  Better than I ever
imagined it could be."

"I?"

"Yes, you," she interrupted, "and me.  You did to me what I wanted you
to do.  Yes, I'm sore now.  My foot hurts, hell, I hurt all over.  But
the pain will go away, the marks will disappear over time.  But the
memory of what happened, the way it made me feel, inside, it's
something that's burned into my soul forever.  We might never do that
again.  I hope that I get the chance to feel those feelings again some
time, but if not, I still have the memory of last night within me.
I'll carry those memories with me until the end of time.

"This week, this trip, it's been the most fantastic week of my life
Jim.  Everything has worked out so well.  I don't want to see you
feeling bad about last night, I want you to share in the happiness and
the peace that I'm feeling.  Please?"

Sam let the blanket she was wearing slip from her shoulders and fall to
the ground.  She knelt down naked upon it.  Knees spread apart, hands
on her thighs, her chain hanging in front of her pussy.  I managed to
crack a smile.

"You've got band-aids stuck all over you," I said.  I handed her my
coffee and knelt beside her.  I began to peel the makeshift bandages
off her.  I was starting to see her, the markings on her skin, in a
different light now.  Not as marks of shame, for she felt no shame in
displaying herself to me.  More as badges of honour, I began to
realise.  That she would honour me so as to submit herself to my lash,
and that she could be so at peace with both me and herself at the
conclusion, made her markings something very special.  She would heal
in time.  A couple weeks perhaps, and all traces of it would be gone.
But our time in the clearing last night would be a shared experience
that would bind us both together for a long time to come.  After I'd
got all the tape off her, I rolled it into a ball and tossed it at the
fire.

"You're right Sam," I said to her.  "I have to tell you that I did
enjoy our time last night.  I guess I was just feeling a little guilty
at perhaps taking so much pleasure at your expense."

I took her hands in mine.  "Seeing you hanging like that in the tree,
you looked so beautiful, so vulnerable.  Men have been conditioned for
centuries not to do things like that to a woman.  Anyone seeing you
chained up like this, they'd think "Oh look at the poor girl chained
like an animal, we must save her from an evil fate."

"It doesn't matter that we're a happy couple, it's "Bad".  Anyone
witnessing that scene last night, they'd call the SWAT team down on my
head.  "Kill the monster" they'd shout, jab me with their pitch forks,
drive me into the swamp."

That got her laughing.

"You see?" I asked.  "How can I think it's O.K.  to hang you upside
down and whip you with a stick in the face of criticism like that."

"Master?"

I smiled.  "Yes?"

"I'm hungry."

The sun was high, it must have been noon.  I got some clothes for Sam
and then looked through the food box.  Finding a freeze-dried beef stew
I dumped it into a pot of water and then mixed up some biscuit mix.
Sam cooked the hot cakes in the frying pan over the fire since we'd run
out of fuel for the camp stove.  When the stew was heated, we ate.  The
swelling in Sam's ankle had gone down somewhat, the chain around it was
a little looser than before.  Around mid afternoon when the sun was
warmest we took a wash in the lake, then dried off and went to bed.  I
lay on my back, Sam climbed on top, her knees around my ears and her
feet up above my head.  She slid herself down an inch or two, pressing
herself to my face as she took me into her mouth.  Her legs looked like
those of a zebra, red and pink though, rather than black and white.  I
marvelled at the evenness of where I'd placed the marks.  I could
remember not even looking, just doing it by feel, almost a sixth sense
taking over as to where to hit her next.  Marvellous, it was truly
wonderful.

Samantha kept squirming around on top of me, trying to gain a more
comfortable position.  She'd shift herself this way and that, but she
had whip marks all over her and after a while she quit moving around to
just concentrate on the task at hand.

I was busy too, licking that delicious pussy of hers.  She'd take my
cock deep and grind herself against my mouth, shuddering as a little
ripple of pleasure flowed through her.  Then she started working my
cock with a purpose, ready to bring me off.  Sam's cunt was wet but
she'd not yet cum.  Was she in pain I wondered.  Pain wouldn't stop her
from cumming, I knew that.  She was holding back, waiting for the
master to cum first.  Eagerly I attacked her pussy with my mouth,
sucking her clit in and swirling my tongue around it.  I was close now.
I was bucking my hips up in time with her, pushing myself deeper down
her throat.

It began as a tingling in my four corners, my fingers and toes.  It
gathered steam, then came together in a great rush, blasting into that
sweet creature on top of me.  I came, followed a heartbeat later by
Samantha.  Her cunt seemed to open up, threatening to swallow me, and
she writhed upon me as I pushed my tongue deep into her, her nectar
flowing down my throat as mine pulsed into hers.  Sam rolled off me
after a while and we lay there, coming down from the rush.  Her feet
were near to my head and I took them into my hands, softly stroking
them with my fingers.  I looked at the bottoms, two red lines on one,
one on the other.  I traced the marks with a fingertip.  Sam's toes
curled around my finger and she smiled at me.

"You're beautiful Samantha," I said.

"Thank you master."

That evening I dug some worms from under leaves in the woods, tied some
fishing line to a hook and a stick, then took the boat out and caught a
lovely bass.  I cooked the cut up fish in water with instant potato
flakes, powdered milk, and half a nasty looking onion I'd found wrapped
in foil in the food box.  The fish chowder turned out not half bad.

We listened to a far away baseball game on the radio that night while
sitting by the fire.  Sam wasn't hobbling as much now.  She was still
hobbled by her ankle chain, but her foot wasn't as sore, she wasn't
limping like before.

"You feeling O.K.?" I asked.

"Better," she answered.  "My ankle is better now.  Still sore
everywhere else though."

"We've got that long hike tomorrow," I told her, "feel up to it?"

"Don't worry, I'll make it."

"I have a saw blade that can cut metal," I told her.  "I could get your
ankle chain off you, if you want."

Sam looked at me in surprise.  "You have something here to get my
chains off?  I thought the idea was that I'd be stuck like this for the
whole trip."

"If you fell and broke something, you saw how your ankle swelled up.  I
wanted to be sure I could take care of you.  That's all."

"Oh.  You're right, Jim.  I see now.  Always be prepared, is that how
it goes?"

"Someone as precious as you, yes."

"No," Sam said.  "I started out with these chains on and that's how
I'll leave here.  And Jim, thanks for being prepared."

Next morning we had a quick breakfast of oatmeal, then packed up and
left.  We paddled the long lake to the mouth of the river leading to
the portage.  When we came to the beaver dams, we found that the storm
runoff had taken out sections of the first two, making a space that the
canoe could pass through with little problem.  On the third dam, the
boat got hung up, but by pushing with both paddles I got us over it.
We only had to get out into the water to haul the canoe over the last
one.

Along the little stream and we found the start of the long portage.

Sam made two trips half way, down hill this time so it wasn't too bad.
I thought we'd get to the main trail and stop, letting her rest while I
went to get the remaining things.  When the gear was together we did
the other half along the wider main part.


There really wasn't anything quick to eat so we skipped lunch and
pressed on.  It was around mid afternoon when we reached the lake and
made camp on the little island we'd stopped at on the way in.  I got a
fire going for Sam to make macaroni and cheese and hotcakes.  I set up
the tent.  Clouds had rolled in during the afternoon and now the sky
was covered with them, dark rain clouds.  It wasn't hot and muggy so I
doubted that we'd get lightning.  The small island would give little
shelter during an electrical storm since there were only a few tall
trees and they were all close around the campsite.  We finished eating,
then stripped down and had a wash in the cold lake water.  Just as we
were finishing up the rain came.  I stuck the wet towels under the
canoe, them made a dash for the tent.  As the rain pounded down around
us, we sat cuddled together looking out, warm and dry in our little
nest.

"Two more short hikes and we're out of here," I said.  "Back to
civilization.  Miss it?"

"A little," Sam said.  "Miss having a good meal served to me in a nice
restaurant."

"Yesterday's fish soup wasn't bad." I stated.

"No salad, no pie and ice cream for dessert."

"No crunchy bread sticks either," I said.  "Just those tasteless
biscuits."

Sam laughed and I hugged her close.  The rain tapered off to a steady
drizzle and we made slow, gentle love for the first time since the
whipping.  It was different now than before.  Sam had such a calm peace
within her still, leftover from that supercharged experience hanging in
the tree.  Even her manner of speaking was different.  Calm, more sure
of herself.  A serine contentment with herself, with me, and everything
around her.

I got on top, careful not to press down too much on her, and we fucked,
slowly and gently.  Samantha didn't get all crazy like she usually did.
She took it, letting the feelings build up, savouring it as one would a
fine wine or a brandy.  I watched her as it built to a peak within her,
then it overtook her.  Almost a slow motion Samantha cum it was, not
the yelps and frenzied motions but a smooth transition from girl, to
something else.  Something celestial, something that transcended the
here and now, passed beyond, to a more heavenly state of being.

Her orgasm gripped her, but did not control her.  Her cunt gripped me
tight, slowing my strokes, and she opened her eyes to me.  They seemed,
not the pale blue as before, but a deeper, sparkling blue.  She spoke.
"It's so beautiful," she said.  "Cum with me master." There was little
else I could do.  A power seemed to flow from her to me and I came.  A
torrential cum that left me completely drained.  I'd rolled off her and
onto my back.  Sam was on her side, her hands on my chest, stroking me
lovingly.  The rain had stopped, the sun was out.  Sunbeams slanting
through the trees and shining into our little love nest.  All was right
in the world.

Later on, we sat by the fire, listening to tales of woe on the nightly
news reports, a world far removed from our quiet little island.

Next morning, our last one in the wilderness, we ate big bowels of hot
oatmeal, the last spoonfuls of jam giving it some semblance of flavour,
then packed up and hit the water.  We came to the portage around the
marsh and loaded up with as much as we both could carry.  I was walking
ahead when I spotted something out in the marsh.  Perhaps two hundred
yards away, on a spit of land across the open water I saw them.  A
momma bear with three young cubs.

Quietly I set down the packs I was carrying and signaled Sam to move
slowly.  I pointed to the bears.

Samantha set down what she was carrying and moved to my side on the
open trail.  Two cubs play-wrestled with each other while the momma and
one young one stripped leaves, or maybe tasty berries, off a low bush.
We were upwind of the marsh and moments later the mother caught our
scent.  The big bear's head picked up and she sniffed the air, her
beady eyes scanned the shoreline, wary of danger.  Momma bear barked a
low growl and the two youngsters stopped their play to look at her.  I
took Sam's hand in mine.  The big animal seemed to stare right at us,
but I didn't think bears could see far all that well.  It took perhaps
a minute before the animal began to sense we'd pose no danger to her
young and she bent to finish stripping the bush, keeping an eye on both
Sam and I, and her young.

I whispered to Sam, "Come on, lets go."

We gathered up the packs and continued on along the trail.  On the way
back for the boat we looked, and just caught sight of the four bears
heading back into the forest at the far side of the marsh.  Managing to
carry the canoe and the rest of our gear inside it saved me having to
make a third trip back.  The last portage went just as well and in the
early afternoon we rounded the bend in the big lake to catch sight of
the parking lot, my Jeep sitting forlornly in the shade at one side.

The boat grounded out on the sandy shore.  My car keys were in my
clothes bag so I took it up first.  I found them, opened the truck and
clicked the power locks.  Samantha was at my side.  I reached under the
passenger side seat to find the wrench and the screwdriver.  I had Sam
sit down.  I took her hands in mine, we looked into each others eyes.
No words were needed.

Sam's feet were dirty, one ankle bruised and still a bit swollen.  Her
arms and legs had red marks on them, her hair was dirty and tangled.
She looked absolutely, radiantly beautiful.  I was pleased with myself
for having pulled this trip off so successfully, and I felt such fierce
pride in my wonderful girl, for enduring so well all that she'd been
put through.

It took me a while to get the chains off her.  I started with her
hands, fitting the wrench to the nut of the quick links with the
screwdriver through the link to hold it.  The ones for her ankle chain
gave me more trouble since water and sand had got into the threads to
jamb them up.  I sprayed a bit of penetrating oil on them and worked
the nuts back and forth a few times to free them up.

After being chained hand and foot for twelve days, Samantha was finally
free.  She stepped out of the truck and stood in the deserted parking
lot, spread her arms wide, slowly, moving her muscles in a way they
hadn't moved for some time, and smiled a wide smile at me.  Samantha
came to me and gave me a big hug.  She stepped back to put a foot up on
the Jeep's fender and stretched her leg, hiking up her skirt, flashing
her bare pussy at me.  Later on we got our stuff in the truck, the
canoe on top and tied down, and I drove up the park road to the little
town at the end.

Two grubby, bedraggled people entered the motel office, got a room for
the night, then took well needed, hot showers together.  Two clean,
happy people left their room, walked down the hill to the bar and had a
delicious big meal.  We stayed at the bar for most of the evening,
eating, drinking, basking in the afterglow of a very nice vacation.

I saw the park ranger come into the bar and I waived to him. He joined
us for a couple beers.

"I was getting worried about you two," he said.  "Saw your Jeep still
at the end of the road this morning, wondered if you were O.K."

"The weather at the beginning was so nice we stayed longer than I'd
planned," I said.

He asked how we fared when the storm hit.  Apparently there was quite a
bit of damage here in town and around the area.  I told him that the
hills around the lake spared us the worst of the winds.

"That was a nice spot," Sam said.

"I go there myself sometimes," the ranger told us. It's out of the way,
peaceful, quiet."

He caught sight of Samantha's bruised up ankle.  "You hurt your foot
honey?"

"Twisted it on a trail," Sam quickly said.  "It's not too bad now."

I said, "We really had a nice time.  Everything went well.  Had to take
a day off on the way out to rest after my friend hurt her foot, but it
wasn't a big problem."

"Well I'm glad to hear that," he said.  "Hope to see you folks again
next year."

The park ranger left us to join his regular drinking buddies.  We
stayed a little longer, then left the bar to walk up the hill to the
motel.  I watched some T.V. cuddled next to Sam on the bed, we were
asleep shortly after.

We ate huge breakfasts at the diner across the road next morning.
Eggs, bacon, sausage, home fries, toast and jam, lots of good coffee.
It was ten before we drove out of the town, on the road back home.  I
stopped for gas and once more for lunch, we made it home in the late
afternoon.  Samantha helped me unload the truck and I offered to do her
laundry.  She took a handful of fish pellets out back to my fish pond,
saw her fish there happy and well.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" I asked her.

"Sure."

I ordered a pizza for dinner.  We did a few loads of washing, got
things put away.  Sam found the two chains that she'd worn for the
entire trip, and came to me with them.

"Master?"

"Sure Sam."

On Monday of the following week, I landed myself a new job after twenty
minutes of work.  The local newspaper had an ad looking for someone
qualified in network database management.  They'd recently merged with
another paper in a town nearby and needed to organise the two offices
into one.  I updated my resume and printed it out.  I took it and my
laptop to the office, then got an interview right away.  I managed to
impress when I plugged my computer into a phone jack and called up the
hospital database I'd worked on, and still had access to.

"These are patient records but we won't go there," I demonstrated.
"Here is the medical database where doctors can look up almost
anything, medicines, desease symptoms."

I made my pitch to the newspaper's manager and the editor.  "Say
something happens and you'd like to know if it happened before.  Or you
wanted the history on a building in town.  I could set up the archive
editions as a database or we could subscribe to one of the big news
archives.  A reporter at his desk could have access to information
world wide."

That evening I was told I'd got the job.  Next day I met Samantha in
the city and took her out to dinner.  Later on we celebrated back at
her apartment.  We talked a little more about her moving in with me.
She had another five months on her lease, but with the tight rental
market her landlord would probably be more than happy to have her leave
so he could jack up the rent for someone else.

I was busy for the next few weeks with the new job and trying to get
back into the hustle and bustle of life on the outside of the quiet
wilderness.  I'd see Sam in the city or she'd stay at my house for a
couple days.  Three weeks after we'd come back from the trip she spent
the weekend at my place, her two chains on her the whole time.  We had
a wonderful, relaxing weekend.  Some great sex too.

In hindsight, I should have known.  I can read a calender after all.
Samantha called me on Tuesday to come over to her place.  She'd sounded
nervous, or worried about something.  She sat with me on her couch and
spoke those three little words that have struck terror in men for
generations.

"Jim, I'm pregnant," she said.

[ End Chapter 3 "The Ad" ]		 dino@canoemail.com

The Ad: Chapter 4		      (c) Dino: May 2000

Lightly proofed and edited by the reclusive Mike Ink.

The story of Jim and Samantha continues.


Three and a half weeks after the most absolutely fantastic canoe trip
I'd ever had, my beloved Samantha sat me down on her couch in her
apartment and dropped a bombshell.  Sam spoke those words that have
terrorized mankind throughout the ages.

"Jim, I'm pregnant," she'd said to me.

And like the typical male I blurted out, "How'd that happen?"
regretting saying it almost immediately.

Like a typical male, Samantha thought.  I'd better hold my tongue here;
this is serious.  Jim has always known what to do.  I'll need his
guidance more than ever now.

I knew Sam was taking birth control pills.  I also knew that, taken
correctly, they were 98 percent effective.  Thinking back, I could
remember at least one time she'd forgotten, taking two to make up for
it.  Sam silently watched as I ticked off the weeks since her last
period on my fingers.  When I had to use my second hand, I realized we
were in trouble.  I counted ahead.

"You were on your fertile time during our trip," I said.

"It would seem so," Sam answered.

The trip in the park's wilderness had been so perfect.  I sat there,
remembering.  We'd screwed at least two, often three times almost every
day.  I'd pumped so much cum into Sam she could have floated a canoe in
it all.  How could a few tiny pills compete against that?  I began to
smile, and Sam caught my look.  I looked at her, her face cloaked with
an expression of worry.

I slid off her couch and onto my knees before her.  I took her hand in
mine.  I looked into her eyes and said, "Samantha McKinley, will you
marry me?"

Sam's eyes grew wide and then a little grin began in the corners of her
mouth.

"Jim, quit fooling around," she said.  "This is serious."

I acted surprised.  "Who's kidding?" I asked.  "Look," I said.  "You
have three choices here.  You can get rid of it, have an abortion.  You
can leave me and go off to have the baby by yourself.  Raise it without
me, or give it up for adoption.  Or we can be together as a family.  I
don't want to lose you, Sam."

"What about the baby?" she asked.

What about the baby.  The memories hit me like a brick.  I was suddenly
unable to hold my gaze on Sam's eyes and I looked downward.  "My first
wife and I," I began, "we'd talked about starting a family, just before
the accident took her.  We were both twenty-nine then.  We had our
whole lives to look forward to."  I looked up.  I felt the tears in my
eyes, but I went on.  "I know you're still young and probably weren't
expecting to be a mom just yet, but there it is.  You must realize how
good we are for each other, Sam; I know I do.  I want to be with you
always.  I want to have children with you.  There's a part of me inside
you now, my child.  Marry me, Samantha, stay with me forever."

The seconds ticked by as Sam was lost in silence.  I was staring at her
tummy now, under the shirt she wore, picturing a little creature taking
shape inside her.  A miniature Samantha.  Guenivere, Gwen for short.
Yes.

"Guenivere, Gwen.  Do you like that name?" I softly asked.

"What if it's a boy?" Sam said.

A boy?  "I don't know," I said.  "What names do you like."

"I had an uncle Claude who was always nice to me," she said.  "But that
name's kinda out of style now.  My mother's brother's named Angus."

"Angus Bradson?  I don't know."

Samantha began to smile at that thought.  Seize the moment; press on,
as Mike would say.  I did.

"Sam, will you marry me?"

Sam looked deep into my eyes.  "Yes, Jim.  I will."

A 200-pound weight lifted off my chest and I could breath again.  I
took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.  "Thank you, Sam.  I love
you."

"I seem to be madly in love with you too, Sir," she said.

"In love, but not mad," I said.  "It'll be right, Sam.  I know it
will."

"I hope so."

"No.  Believe me, Sam; believe in yourself.  You know everything's
going to be just wonderful."

"Yes," she quietly said.  "It will."

So that was that.  Samantha went off to fix some tea while I was left
with my thoughts.  I'd only met Sam less than three months ago, and
now, perhaps in a month or two, we'd be joined as one in marriage.
Shortly after, we'd have a new baby to care for.

I called to her in the kitchen.  "Have you told your folks yet?"

"Not yet," she said.  "My doctor's doing another test to make sure.
He's going to call tomorrow."

"So you don't know that it's certain yet."

Sam came out carrying a tray with the tea and a plate of cookies.  "I'm
sure, Jim.  I'm sure."  Sam put down the tray and sat beside me.  "I
threw up this morning."

"Oh."

"My period's two weeks late."

"I would say those are pretty definite symptoms, all right."

Samantha turned to me and looked at me straight on.

"Jim," she asked, "are you mad about this, about me getting pregnant?"

"No," I said.  "Of course not.  Are you upset about it?"

"A little," Sam answered.  "I knew I'd want children someday.  Just not
this soon.  I'm a bit scared."

"It's not something to worry about," I told her.  "Child birth is a
most natural thing.  Women have been having babies for ages now."  Sam
waited for me to say more so I went on.  "You're young, Sam.  You're
healthy; it's going to be all right for you.  I'm no doctor but I
worked in a hospital for nine years now.  I've seen things, heard
things.  You'll be fine, believe me."

"Is that where you learned how to give a girl such great orgasms?"

I laughed.  "That's where I learned where all the naughty bits were.
The great orgasms come from you, darling."

Over tea and cookies, we talked about what we were going to do.  Sam's
parents lived in Winnipeg, a city about a two-hour plane ride away.

"I used to think I'd like a big church wedding," She said, "with a big
reception after, but since I moved here to Toronto, I lost touch with a
lot of friends back home.  My older brother works at the Canadian
embassy in Greece.  He's married, has a Greek wife and two kids."

"I'm an only child," I said.  "There's a few aunts and uncles, cousins
around.  My parents moved to Florida three years ago.  They've got a
nice condo on the ocean.  The U.S. Thanksgiving is next month; we could
go see them.  I guess you should introduce me to your folks too,
sometime soon."

"I guess you're right."

At least we made one definite plan that evening, Sam would give up her
apartment and move in with me at the end of the month.  Sam had not yet
found a suitable job and I told her not to worry about it.  My new job
wasn't going all that well, but my house is paid for, and I had
insurance money from the plane crash invested wisely, so we would be
all right for a while.

I hadn't expected to sleep with Sam that night, but she asked if I
could stay, so I did.  I finished in the bathroom and got into her bed.
Samantha came out wearing her bracelets with the chain connecting them,
nothing else, and slipped under the covers with me, cuddling close.  My
hand found her hip, then slid down and around her to caress her flat
little tummy.  Her soon to be big tummy.

"Will you still love me when I'm big and ugly?" she asked.

I patted her stomach.  "You'll get big here, but you'll never be ugly,
Sam.  I'll always love you, no matter what."

She rolled over on top of me with her hands up around my head, her
chain laying across my neck.  Wrapping my arms around her, I ran my
hands up and down her back, down across her bum, squeezing those two
soft, fleshy globes of her lovely ass.  I began to feel the tension
leave her body as she settled in on top of me.  Her mouth was against
my ear and she purred softly while I stroked her back.

The half anticipated sex never materialised, which was no great loss.
Such a feeling of contentment washed over me lying on my sweetheart's
bed with her on top of me, and knowing that we'd made a firm commitment
to one another that evening.  Even though the choice had been rather
hastily forced upon us, I had no regrets at all.  I just prayed that
Sam wouldn't come to regret this decision.  She'd fallen asleep on me,
so I eased her off and onto her side.  She stirred and grunted, but
hardly woke, and I held her in my arms as I drifted off.

I was wakened rather rudely the next morning by the sounds of retching
coming from the vicinity of Sam's bathroom.  I groggily made my way
down the hall to see my lovely fiance with her head in the bowl,
driving the porcelain bus.  She'd not had the time to take off her
bracelets, and one hand was on the rim, the other hand held her hair
out of the way, the chain stretched tight under her neck.  Kneeling
down beside her, I gathered her hair up to hold it, and brought my
other arm around her to steady her until she finished being sick.  Sam
sat back on her heels and I flushed the toilet, then I wet a washcloth
to hand to her.

I sat on the edge of the tub.  "Feel better?" I asked.

"I'm sorry, Jim, did I wake you?"

I helped her up as I said, "It's all right, Sam.  Don't apologize.
This will probably last for a couple weeks or so.  Just morning
sickness."

I ran some water and cupped my hand for Sam to rinse out her mouth,
then I kissed her and told her I loved her.  I held her as we made our
way back to her bedroom and we sat on her bed.  Sam's body still had a
few traces of marks from that whipping session at the end of our canoe
trip, and I asked her about them.

"Did your doctor see these marks on you?"

Sam giggled.  "Yes."

"And?"

"I told him I fell down," Sam replied.  "I think he knew exactly how
these marks happened.  I told him that it was OK, and he told me there
was a good battered woman's shelter nearby where I could talk to
someone if I needed to.  I got a little afraid that he'd report me,
maybe get you in trouble or something.  I said that we'd done something
but it wasn't anything I didn't want to have happen.  You know, he
smiled then, like it was just something normal, and that was the end of
it."

"He probably has seen those kinds of marks before," I said.

Sam lay back on her bed and I moved closer to kiss her on her tummy.

"So, Mrs. Bradson, when do you want to get married?" I asked.  It felt
weird calling her that, like talking to my mom or something.

Samantha looked lovely stretched out on the bed in the morning light.
She had that radiant beauty that seemed so common in women who were
with child, that kind of glow that I'd noticed before with the pregnant
set.  We started to make plans, but we were both still naked, and the
touching began, followed by cuddling, stroking, and, well.  Sex with
Sam still had that calm peacefulness about it I'd noticed since her
last session under the lash.  It was stupendously intense, really
wonderful, but there wasn't the urgency about it that she used to have
before.  Maybe it was because she felt more secure now that she knew
we'd be staying together.  But perhaps, at least in small part, it was
due to that wildly intense scene back in the wilderness a few weeks
back.

After we'd finished, Sam made coffee while I called my boss at work,
telling him I wouldn't be in that day.  "Personal crisis," I said.  Sam
and I went down to see the building manager, who lived on the first
floor.  Samantha introduced me as the man she was going to marry, and
that broke the ice.

"Please, come in, have a drink," he said.  It was kind of early, but we
had a small one.  When Sam said she wanted to break her lease, the man
began the "Tisk tisk, I don't know," routine.  I stepped in.

"Listen," I said.  "We both know how tight the rental market is right
now.  Surely you could save us the bother of sub-letting the place till
the end of the lease.  It would be one less thing we'd have to worry
about.

"Please?" Sam added, turning those bright eyes on him, those eyes that
always seemed to melt straight into my heart.

"Well, I'll see what I can do," he said.

I walked with Sam down the street to a restaurant on the corner for
breakfast and we finished the plan.  We'd visit with her folks first,
then fly to Florida for a few days at my parents' place.  A quiet
wedding immediately after, with a week in the Bahamas for a honeymoon.
Samantha and James Bradson.  That sounded good.

Sam's landlord caught us on the way back, saying he had some people
coming over, wanting to see the apartment.  That was quick, I thought.
I gave Sam a hand taking down her more erotic artwork, and we put her
paintings in my truck.  Sam packed up a few more things and took them
down, while I called around making travel enquiries.  Sam called her
doctor to get the results of her pregnancy test.  If there was any
doubt before, there was none now.  Samantha was with child.  We toasted
with apple juice to her good health, our good fortune.

I drove home that afternoon on a cushion of air.  Having children
around would be a major change in our lifestyles, of course.  There
wouldn't be anymore trips quite like that last one had been, but with a
child along for the ride, the rewards would be equally as great.
Seeing things through a child's eyes was something I'd been curious
about.  Kids look at things in a completely different way.  Uncorrupted
by the demands of modern life, they have that non-judgemental innocence
that has always taken me by surprise, made me often seen the folly of
so many of the ways of the adult world.

That child-like innocence stayed in the back of my mind the next day
when I confronted the managing editor of the newspaper I was working
for.  I'd taken the job with the assumption that I'd be able to make
some real changes in the operation.  But I'd quickly learned that there
was little money available to modernize the computer systems in the
offices, despite what I'd been told.  I'd done what I could with what
they had, but there was little more I could accomplish under the
present circumstances.

I had a talk with my boss.  "Jim," he said to me, "We've been very
happy with the changes you've made so far.  Everyone, who, where you've
had a hand, has told me things are working a lot smoother now."

"I can appreciate that, and there's a lot more that I could do, but the
funds just aren't there to do it."

"Taking on the new operation has caused some upheaval," he said.
"We're working hard on finding new advertisement dollars, but until
things even out, we have to move slowly."

Child-like innocence.  I smiled, as though I'd just found a shiny new
quarter on the street.

"I'm getting married next month," I blurted out.

"Well, that's very good news.  Blah blah blah."  I wasn't listening.

"I could take some time off until things settle down more," I said.

"Well," he said, "we don't want to lose you, Jim.  You've worked hard
to help...blah blah.  Take some time to get to know your new bride,
we'll keep in touch."

"OK,"  Perfect.  "Thank you, Sir," I added.

I called Sam when I got home.  She had the movers in and had wanted to
surprise me by being settled into my place when I finished work.  "I
managed an extended leave of absence off work," I said.  "We'll have
time to visit the folks, get married, and have some nice time off."

"How long?" she asked.

"Don't know, a month perhaps.  It'll be good though."

"They found people to take the apartment," Sam told me.  "I'm getting a
refund for the two weeks left on this month."

"Great.  See you soon."

I shifted things around, made space for Sam's stuff.  Emptied out some
drawers for her.  By evening, I had my girl happily living at my place.

We got an invite to Mike's place for dinner on Friday.  It was the
first time I'd ever heard him speechless when I told him Sam and I were
getting married.

"Jim," he said over the phone, "that's, uh, great.  I..."

"Sam's pregnant," I said.

"Huh?"

Mike had composed himself when we got there and he greeted Sam and I at
the front door.  Sam wore a tight little green dress, and it wouldn't
be long, I thought, before she wouldn't fit into it.  She'd worn no
shoes that evening.  Barefoot and pregnant.

"Jim, you dog," Mike said.  "You don't waste any time."  Mike took both
of Samantha's hands in his and kissed her on her cheeks.

"Congratulations," he said to her.  "I'm very happy for both of you."

Liselle was there, taking Sam by the arm, escorting her into the house,
gently touching her.  Mike had opened a bottle of really good white
wine and they toasted us, the happy couple.  Lisa was conspicuous by
her absence, and I asked about her.

"Lisa won't be able to join us this evening," Mike said.  "She's
downstairs.  Day eighteen for her, in the cage."  I felt Sam's grip on
my arm get a little tighter.  Her excitement began to grow, and Mike
immediately picked up on it.  "Liselle, why don't you take Samantha
down to visit with your sister?"

"Yes, Sir," she said excitedly.  "Miss, would you like to see Lisa?"
Sam looked at me with anticipation in her eyes.  I motioned her to go
with Liselle.

The two lovely ladies left to go downstairs, through the oak paneled
basement rec room, to visit the dungeon.  The hidden panel in the wall
stood open, and at the top of the steps, Liselle casually removed her
short dress to turn nude towards Samantha.  "I'm sorry," she said, "but
clothing is usually not allowed for us inside."

"Well," Sam said, "I don't want to break any rules."  With that,
Samantha pulled her own dress over her head, then slid her panties down
her legs to step out of them.  She placed her clothing on the chair
beside Liselle's.  The two girls looked at one another for a moment.

"Liselle's really pretty," thought Sam.  She was an inch taller and her
golden hair came down to her waist.  Sam's hair was longer but Liselle
had slightly larger breasts.  Liselle was a little thicker around the
middle.  Sam looked down at her own flat tummy.  That will change soon.

The two went down the steps.  The dungeon door stood open.  The lights
in the room were dim except for in the area of the cage.  Sam could see
through the glass panels that marked out the area, the cage's occupant
slowly rocking back and forth within its tight confines.  As the two
girls approached, Lisa let out a low, strangled groan.  Samantha
automatically reached for the comfort of another human, and took
Liselle's hand into her own.  Liselle looked at Sam, Sam caught her
glance, then looked down at her hand clasping that of the pretty blonde
twin's.  She didn't let go though.  Rather, she gave Liselle's hand a
gentle squeeze.  The two walked over to the cage.  Through the opening
in the glass panels, the two stepped onto the bare, grey, concrete
floor of the cage area.  Lisa must have seen a shadow move and she
stopped her rocking as her eyes swivelled around to try to see who'd
come to visit her.

Lisa was on her knees on a small piece of carpet on the cage's floor.
Around her ankles were solid looking steel shackles with a short bar
extending to the sides of the cage.  The ends of the bars were clamped
to the base of bars on either side, bolted firmly in place.  Her feet
and legs were spread about twelve inches apart.  The shackles fit tight
around her ankles, allowing very little movement for her feet.  Lisa's
thighs were bent back at an angle and her bum rested on a bar that went
through the cage and was clamped in place on both sides.  In the centre
of the bar, where Lisa's ass cheeks sat, was another clamp arrangement.
Samantha, still holding Liselle's hand, looked closer.  On the other
side of the central clamp, a rubber dildo was attached which extended
into the girl's cunt.  Samantha felt her knees grow weak, and Liselle's
arm went around her waist to steady her.  "Are you alright, Miss?"
Liselle asked.

Lisa pushed back against the dildo, making it disappear up inside her,
and let out a gurgling groan.

"I'm OK," Sam managed.

Sam held onto Liselle's arm to steady herself.  Her fingers
accidentally brushed against the blonde's nipple.  Liselle smiled, and
they moved towards the front of the cage.  Lisa's body was horizontal
inside the cage and a wide leather belt went from a top bar, down
around her tummy, and up again to the top.  The belt gave support to
the girl's body to relieve some strain on her back.  Liselle knelt at
the front of the cage, reached inside, and stroked her sister's cheek.
Sam felt her legs get weak again and so she knelt down on the floor
beside Liselle.

Another bar went through the cage in front, clamped at the ends to the
sides.  A clamp arrangement similar to the one in back was fitted in
front of Lisa's face.  The black rubber dildo there went into the
girl's mouth.  Sam swallowed hard.  There was a chain locked around
Lisa's neck, and attached to the bar in two places, keeping her from
turning her head away from the stiff rubber phallus in her mouth.  A
clear plastic tube ran from a water bottle hanging at the corner of the
cage, to the centre of the dildo in Lisa's mouth.  Lisa worked her
cheeks, sucking hard on the rubber cock, which was hollowed to allow a
trickle of water into the girl's mouth.  She rocked back, pressed her
lips around the gag, then squirted out a small stream of water from the
side of her mouth, catching her sister and Samantha on the legs.  Sam
let out a surprised squeak.

"She learned that trick last week," Liselle told Sam.  "You have to do
something to pass the time in there."

Lisa's wrists were held in the same type shackles as those on her
ankles, tight looking, solid steel.  Her hands were fastened to the
sides of the cage near to where her breasts hung down, the shackles
firmly bolted in place to the cage bars.  A third steel bar went
through the cage, over top of her back, under her elbows, pinning the
girl's arms in place.

"I'd never imagined anything like this," thought Samantha.  "Eighteen
days, did Mike say?  My God."  She nervously reached out to touch the
girl imprisoned inside the cage, nearly toppling over.  Her head spun
with the awe-inspiring sight before her.  Once again, Liselle grabbed
hold of her, the blonde's muscular arms feeling strong and comforting
to her.

"Miss Samantha, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Sam said.  "I...I just..."  Sam put her arm around Liselle.
Sam felt the girl's soft hair, her soft skin rubbing against hers.
Sam's other hand drifted down, between her own thighs, and Liselle
understood.

Samantha was trembling with sudden lust.  She held tight to the pretty
blonde girl, never once looking away from the equally pretty one
trapped inside the steel cage.  Lisa relaxed her worried look, as she
too understood what was wrong with Samantha.  She smiled at Sam around
the rubber phallus, and began to rock herself inside the cage.  Lisa
took the dildo deep into her mouth, drawing the one at her other end
almost out of her.  Then she moved herself back until the rear one
filled her pussy, with the one in her mouth just between her teeth, the
neck chain taut under her chin.  She opened her mouth a little, and
stared deeply into Samantha's eyes as she swirled her tongue around the
head of the dildo.  Then she rocked forwards again to take it down into
her throat.

Samantha let out a low, throaty moan, and began to work furiously at
her own throbbing clit.  Lisa picked up her pace, rocking her body back
and forth on the two rubber cocks that impaled her at both ends.
Liselle smiled and brought her hands around Samantha, placing them on
her breasts, to softly caress the stiff buds of Sam's nipples.  Sam
pushed a finger up inside herself while she pinched and twisted her own
pulsating clitty.  It became something of a race between the two,
between Lisa and Samantha, to see who would cum first.

Samantha could not tear her eyes off the girl in the cage rocking her
body back and forth within the limits of her free movement.  Lisa's
belly was bucking up and down with her exertions, slapping against the
leather strap that supported her body.  The bright silver chain around
her neck tinkled merrily as she humped against the two cocks poking
into her at either end.  Lisa was twisting herself now, as much as she
was able to, grinding herself back into the dildo filling her cunt.
She began to cum, spit dripping from her mouth and the dildo there;
pussy juice, churned to foam, at the rear one.  A high squeal emanated
from her mouth, abruptly cut off when she violently rocked forwards,
driving the rubber cock deep into her throat.  Liselle felt Samantha
begin to tense.  Sam pushed another finger into herself, then began to
scream out as her orgasm grabbed her hard.  She pushed herself against
the girl behind her and she came like a freight train, never taking her
eyes off that awesome sight of Lisa, trapped in the cage.

Mike's ears pricked up as Sam's screams of passion echoed up the stairs
from the dungeon.

"What the hell...?" he asked.

"It's OK," I said.  "Just Sam having an orgasm."

I'd been chatting with Mike about our latest adventure in the woods
while he worked fixing dinner.  "I gave Liselle the night off cooking
since she has to take care of her sister now," he'd said.  I was
telling him how peaceful and calm Sam's orgasms had seemed after that
last intense whipping scene, how she had found such peace after it was
done, and how that calmness had stayed with her afterwards.
Apparently, something had shattered that calm.  Sam's howls of passion,
echoing loud and long through the big house, attested to the fact.
"Now what do you suppose the girls are up to?" I asked.

"Something good, it sounds like," Mike answered.

He told me that cage time was generally isolation time too.  "I think
it works better that way.  Being left alone and utterly helpless seems
to work together to make the session that much more intense for the
girls.  We'll go down after dinner to feed Lisa.  I let Liselle take
Samantha down early because she seemed so interested in that cage last
time.  It sounds like it still holds a certain fascination for her."

After a while, Liselle entered the kitchen with her arm around Sam,
holding her from falling down.  Sam's eyes had that far away look to
them.  She was lost in that special place that submissives enjoy
visiting so much.  Both girls were naked.

"Samantha," I called to her.

Sam's head swivelled around; her eyes found me sitting at the table,
and she focused on me.

"Where did your dress go?" I asked.

Sam looked down at herself.  I heard Mike chuckling over the roast
pork.

"I...I don't know," she slowly said.

Samantha came over to kneel on the floor beside my chair, placing her
hands and head on my lap.  Liselle went to Mike to help with the
dinner.

"Did you see Lisa?" I asked Sam.

She looked up at me.  "Lisa's in the cage," she said with a goofy grin.
"She's very happy, master.  I...it...It's incredible, Sir."

"Would you like to spend a little time inside it when Lisa's done?" Her
head lowered onto my legs and she began to melt.  I felt her start to
tremble as her passions rose again.  Liselle heard my question and
noisily dropped a stack of dishes on the dining room table in her rush
back to the kitchen.  Mike gave her a glance, but her eyes were on Sam.

"Oh, please, Sir?" Sam said.  "Could this one have a turn when Lisa is
finished with it?  I'll be good, I promise."

"Well, Mike," I said, "looks like you've got another customer."

Dinner was excellent, made even more delicious by the sight of our two
lovely and naked companions seated around the table.  The good food
helped to bring Samantha back to reality, or at least to a semblance of
normality.  Her thoughts, I was sure, were on the floor below us.  On
the girl downstairs, locked tightly in the cage.

We had dessert and coffee, then the girls cleaned up and Liselle fixed
a plate of food for her sister.  We all headed down to the dungeon.
The floor behind Lisa was messy with pee and cum, so Liselle used a
handy hose, setting the temperature to warm, before washing down her
sister's nether region.  Using a small wrench, she undid the clamps on
the front bar and the gag, disconnected the neck chains, then slid the
bar out and removed the dildo from Lisa's mouth.  Sam held a glass of
juice to the girl's lips and we waited for her to gain her composure.
Lisa's voice was a bit horse from having the rubber cock in her throat
for so long, but she seemed quite happy and pleased to see us all.
Liselle told her sister about how Sam's going to have a baby.

"Oh Mistress Samantha, I'm so happy for you," Lisa said.

I watched as Lisa rocked herself against the dildo still in her pussy.
Even without the one in front, she still wasn't able to move completely
off it.  She humped back onto it a couple times, giving herself
pleasure, pleased by the news of Sam's pregnancy.  Amazing, I thought.

The girls got busy giving Lisa her supper, and I watched Sam, my lovely
naked Samantha, cuddling with Liselle, reaching into the cage to touch
Lisa, stroking her softly.  I could see the effect it was having on
her.  The scene was having a profound effect on me too.  Mike gave me a
shot in the ribs that shook me from my reverie.  He gave me a wink and
a nod, and we moved to another part of the room.  In a low voice he
said, "Your girl seems to have a deep attraction to that cage.  I think
we'll have to give her some time in it."

"Christ," I said, "look at her.  She's almost ready to cum again."

"Liselle was in pretty bad shape her last time in.  She'd fought it at
the end, banged herself up a bit.  You think Sam could handle it?"

I looked over at the girls.  Sam had her face pressed up against the
bars and it looked like she was trying to kiss Lisa's body someplace.
She had both her arms inside, stroking Lisa, feeling her and the steel
that confined her.  She looked gone again, totally taken over by Lisa's
submission to her helpless state.  I nodded towards the cage area.

"Check it out," I said.  "Does it look like there'd be a problem?"

Mike looked.  Sam was trying to squeeze herself through the bars to get
inside with Lisa.  "What about the baby?" he asked.  "Is she going to
be all right?"

I smiled.  "That won't be a problem.  A happy mom means a healthy baby.
I've seen women come into the hospital all banged up, and the baby
usually survives just fine.  Even if the house fell down, by the looks
of that cage, nothing's going to happen to someone inside it.  I don't
know how she'll handle being in there for a long time, but she
certainly seems to have her heart set on trying it."

"Go get Sam out of there," Mike told me.  "I don't want to get Lisa all
lathered up.  She's still got a couple weeks to go."

I went to get Samantha away from the cage.  I had to pull her arms out,
off Lisa, and I had to lift Sam to her feet.  I had to gently shake her
to break the trance she was in.

"Samantha!"  I had to be firm; her eyes wouldn't leave the cage.
"Samantha.  This is your Master speaking.  Lisa needs some time alone
now."

"I..." She saw me.  "I... Yes.  Lisa needs time alone now."

"Liselle!" Mike barked, "Get your sister fed and settled for the night,
then join us upstairs."

"Yes, Sir," said Liselle.

I had to support Sam all the way upstairs.  It seemed like a big part
of her was left down there with the twins.  It wasn't until we were
settled in the living room and she'd had a couple sips of coffee, that
she started to come around.  Samantha began to realize that she might
have caused a problem downstairs.

"Sirs.  I'm sorry if this one became overwhelmed and forgot her place."

Both Mike and I smiled.  How could you get angry with someone so sweet.
"It's all right Samantha," Mike told her.  "The device has had strange
effects on several people.  It can be a bit overwhelming.  Lisa still
has a while to go inside and I didn't want her to get too excited,
that's all.  It would just make it harder for her to endure her
confinement."

"Thank you, Sir."

Mike went on.  "If you want a turn at it, you're going to have to
prepare yourself, Samantha.  If you went in now, you'd just explode
yourself in a few hours and have nothing left for an extended time.  A
few days are good; a week, or more?  Depends on how you take to it.  Do
you think you could handle a couple weeks in there?  Samantha?"

Sam's eyes had a dreamy, far away look.

"I think we lost her again," I said.

By the time Liselle joined us, half an hour or so later, Sam had
regained some of her composure.  Liselle sat down beside her, and had
brought up Sam's clothes.

"Lisa OK?" Mike asked.

"Yes, Sir.  I left her to rock herself to sleep."

"Good."

We left Mike's place around midnight, and on the way home Sam couldn't
keep her hands off me.  She kept oozing over the console and trying to
get into my pants.  Very distracting.  After an interminable drive,
when we got home, Sam whipped her dress off and started molesting me.
Of course, I immediately had to chain her down on my bed, and then I
proceeded to give her a royal fucking.

I'd no sooner stripped off and lain on top of her when her passions
reached a fever pitch.  The end of my dick grazed against her clit and
she came big time, squirting pussy juice on me and howling out in
wanton lust.  This was the Samantha I knew and loved, raw, earthy, and
wildly passionate.  I bore my weight down on her to hold her still and
I screwed her hard and long.  When I could hold back no longer, I
blasted loose a huge load of cum up deep inside her.  Fantastic.  When
I recovered, I unlocked her chains from the bed so she could use the
bathroom.  I would have locked her back up to the bed, but when she
returned, I was snoring.


We'd booked a flight to see her parents on the last week of October.  I
hadn't set foot near an airport since the accident, and I was a little
apprehensive getting on the plane.  But I knew you're more likely to
die driving to the airport than you are flying.  Sam, and a couple
drinks before we took off, helped to calm my nerves somewhat, and it
was an uneventful flight.  There'd been bit of fuss with the airport
metal detector and Sam's labia rings, but after she whispered in the
security guard's ear, he smiled and passed us through.  We landed in
Winnipeg around noon.

We hired a car and drove to the house Samantha grew up in, an older
farmhouse just south of the city.  It was a beautiful place, big trees
around the house, open land, a small town close by.  A nice, safe place
to raise kids, I thought.  Sam's folks greeted us when we drove up to
the house and stopped.

The McKinleys, Isabella and Robert, were older than I had expected them
to be, late sixties, I guessed.  The house was very nicely done inside,
smelling of fresh baking.  It wasn't long before we were all seated at
the big kitchen table for a hearty lunch.  Sam had told her parents we
planned to get married, but not the second part.

"We really love each other, mom, dad," Sam began.  "I know this seems
sudden, but I know that we're right for each other."

Sam's mother said, "I can see the way you look at one another that
there is something strong between you."

Sam went on.  "We're going to fly to Florida in a couple days to see
Jim's parents.  We're hoping to get married either there, or maybe the
week after in the Bahamas.  Just a small wedding, nothing too fancy."

Sam's dad shifted on his chair.  "I'm sensing some urgency here," he
slowly said.  "Is there something else, Sam?"

Here it comes, I thought.  Sam looked down.  "I'm going to have a
baby."

There was a deafening silence, but only for a moment.  Sam's parents
looked at one another, and began to smile at each other.  Sharing an
inside joke, it seemed to me.

Isabella caught a nod from dad, and spoke.  "Samantha, how old is your
brother Adam?"

"Thirty-three next month, why."

"And how long have your dad and I been married?"

"Thirty five years last May.  Right?"

"That's what we've said," said Sam's mom.  "But we added a year to make
it sound better."

"You mean...?  Does Adam know?"

"No.  And don't you dare tell him.  Although it doesn't seem to matter
so much these days."

"We had to get married," said Robert, "it was the right thing to do,
back then.  It worked out well for us, for thirty-five, well, thirty-
four years, right mum?"  He stood up and extended his hand towards me.
I got up to shake it.  "You take good care of my little girl, Jim.  I
hope you both are as happy as I've been all these years."

"I believe we will be, Mr. McKinley," I said.  "Thank you.  You both
have raised quite a lovely young lady here."

Sam and I spent a couple hours in the afternoon, driving around her old
hometown.  The weather was grey and cool, but my spirits were bright
and sunny.  On the town's main street, we stopped in at a jewellery
store.  They had a few engagement rings in a case there, one of which
caught both our fancy.  A nice diamond, not all that large, but the
setting was both ornate and quite modern looking at the same time.  I'd
priced a few back home and this one was both reasonable and quite nice
looking.  Samantha liked it, so I bought it and the matching wedding
band for her on the spot.

We drove back to Samantha's parents place for dinner and she had her
first chance to show off her new ring.  We all stayed up late that
evening, looking at old family photos and chatting about everything
under the sun.  Sam's parents were really nice people, simple down home
nice.  Easy to talk to.  I felt genuinely welcomed into their family.

Next day, Sam and I visited with some of her friends that she hadn't
seen in a while.  A get together was arranged that evening for friends
and neighbours to come over and celebrate Sam's engagement and
forthcoming wedding.  Sam's parents expressed a desire to attend the
wedding ceremony.

"Give us a call when you get to Florida and we'll come visit with you,"
Sam's dad told her.  "Isn't every day your only daughter gets hitched."

The day after found us on a plane to sunny Florida.  We landed in
Miami, then took a train to West Palm Beach where my parents had their
condo on the ocean.  It was one of those condominium apartment
buildings geared towards older and retired people.  My folks took great
pleasure in showing Sam and me around the building, and we were
expected to ohh and ahh over the common rooms, and even the elevators,
as though we'd never been in one before.  But that's just the way older
people are.  Their place was nice though, well suited to their
lifestyle, and we could tell they were very happy there.

The scene with my folks went smoothly as well.  They had been worried
about me after the death of Susan, and were pleased that I'd been able
to bounce back after all this time alone, and with a pretty young thing
to boot.  My dad took me aside after I told them they'd be grandparents
in about seven months.

"You know, son," he said, "there's ways around this little problem now.
You don't have to marry this girl."

"It's OK, dad," I told him.  "We're not getting married just because of
the baby.  We're good for each other, and I really love her a lot."

"You'd be a fool not to.  She sounds smart and she's pretty too.  You
two look good together.  I'm happy for you kid."

My folks didn't really have room for us to stay with them, but I'd
booked a room at a hotel a short walk from their building.  We all had
dinner out, then did the 'pictures of me as a baby' thing that parents
love to do.  It was late when Sam and I finally got up to the room and
passed out on the bed.

As it worked out, we had the next morning to ourselves.  Sam's parents
were flying in in the afternoon and I was going to use my dad's car to
pick them up.  We'd both wakened early from the bright sunlight
streaming into the room and Samantha turned towards me.  "Wanna fool
around?" she asked.

"OK."

I hadn't brought along any of my usual bondage paraphernalia, the above
mentioned airport security, one reason.  But I did bring along a couple
handy lengths of soft, white nylon rope.  Sam's eyes grew wide as I
pulled the bundle of it from my bag and I began to uncoil the pieces to
lay them out across the bed.

I started by tying her wrists together behind her back, not too
tightly, since I didn't want to leave rope marks on her for our parents
to see.  I used a second piece to throw a clove hitch around each of
her upper arms, just above the elbow.  Then I drew her arms together
with the rope.  Sam shifted around a bit as her elbows got closer and
closer together behind her.  I kept watching for signs of distress from
her, but none were forthcoming until her elbows were nearly touching
together.

"Is that too tight, Sam?" I asked.

"Uh," Sam moved a bit.  "It's OK."

I tied a square knot to secure her arms in place.  I moved her hair
back over her shoulder and down, combing it with my fingers down her
back and over her arms.  Her shoulders were pinned back, making her
chest stand out proudly with two little hard berries on the tips of her
tits.  I had her get up off the bed and I walked her to the big mirror
in the room.  I posed her in front of it, letting her see herself,
lifting her hair to let her see her arms, wrapped in white rope,
tightly bound and close together behind her.  She smiled.  I took her
head between my hands, then kissed her with passion.  I hugged her body
tightly to me while I gazed at the beautiful sight of her reflection in
the mirror.

Sam would have fallen if I'd let go, but I would hold her dearly
always.  I walked her back to the bed.  I used the last rope to bind
her ankles, wrapping it around them both three times, then around
between.  Again, I didn't cinch it too tight, rope marks, but she was
tied up tight enough.  There was about a foot and a half of rope left
dangling.  Sam lay down on her tummy, face down.  I raised her feet up
and back until her heels touched her bum.  I passed the end of the rope
through the one at her elbows, pulled it up tight, and tied it off.
"You're not going to start making all kinds of noise now, are you?" I
asked, knowing full well the answer.

"Ooohhh!" Sam groaned, the effects of the strict hog tie flooding her
brain with a crazy mix of emotions.  I'd need a gag of some sort.

In the bathroom, I wet a washcloth, so her mouth wouldn't get all dry.
On a hook were two terrycloth robes, thoughtfully provided by the
hotel.  With terrycloth tie belts.  I pulled one free, then returned to
Samantha.  She saw what I carried and dutifully opened her mouth wide.
I rolled up the damp cloth, packed her mouth full, then wrapped the
cloth belt around her head and mouth a couple times, tying it tight.
Sam settled back on the bed and squirmed around a bit in the tight
confines of her ropes.  I watched as she stretched her fingers out to
grab her ass cheeks, pulling with her fingers and arching her back in
an effort to reach herself.  Her longest finger made it past the
crinkled rose of her asshole and to within half an inch of her pussy
rings, but no amount of straining could let her gain - that - last
little - bit.  Sam kicked with her feet to try to stretch her arms just
that tiny bit more.  Her high-pitched keening was sufficiently muffled
by the gag.

I finally thought I'd lend a hand and I reached out to touch her rings.
Sam's finger found mine and she tried to grab my hand to mash it into
her.  But I'd have none of that.  I withdrew my hand for a moment.  It
took three tries before Samantha understood I was going to take my
sweet time on her, and she let me touch her without trying to grab me.

I flicked a finger over her rings, hearing them tinkle together, then I
slid my finger through her slit and up inside of her.  I saw Sam
fighting to maintain her composure and I smiled.  I bent my finger
inside her, pressed down, and wiggled, tickling her right on her G-
spot.  My thumb stroked her clit.

I felt Samantha go all tense and three seconds later she went off like
a rocket.  Her legs shot out and I had to grab them before she
dislocated her shoulders.  Her cum, warm and wet, shot everywhere.  I
kept up my stimulation of her pussy though, having to chase her around
the bed to keep my finger in her.  Sam started snorting and blowing air
through her nose and her movements began to slow.  She was not getting
enough air, I saw.

It might have been funny if she'd passed out, but my thoughts were on
little Sam or Jim junior.  Quickly I untied the cloth belt, unwrapped
it, and pulled the washcloth from her mouth.  When the gag came free,
she gulped a lungful of air, then let it out in a long, loud, moan of
ecstasy which was sure to wake anyone still sleeping on our floor.  As
luck would have it, people happened to be passing by out in the hall
and I heard tittering from outside as Samantha groaned and moaned.
When she realized that my finger was no longer stimulating her, she
came down rather abruptly.

"Why did you stop?" Sam asked.  "And where's my gag?"

"You couldn't breathe properly and I removed it."

"Oh."

I loosened the rope holding her feet to her elbow rope, then I untied
the rope holding her elbows together, letting in slack slowly so her
arms didn't spring apart.  The rope had bit deep into her upper arms
from all the strain on it and she'd have marks there, probably for the
rest of the day.  But Sam had a blouse with long sleeves to hide them.
I got her up on her knees with her face in the pillows and then I gave
it to her, fast and hard, the way we both liked it.  I no longer
worried about the noise, since I figured the whole hotel knew what we
were up to by now.  The pillows muffled Sam's cries somewhat, my rather
loud grunts I just let fly.

After we'd relaxed a while and I'd untied her, we took a shower
together, then went down for breakfast.  We walked the short distance
to my parents' place to pick up the car.

I hadn't seen what my dad was driving, hadn't thought to ask yesterday
when they showed us the garage in the basement of the building, we had
just looked in and continued with the tour.  The keys felt strange when
he handed them to me on the way down in the elevator, but that didn't
register with me either.  I'd expected a wagon or a (shudder) minivan.
My jaw didn't drop until dad pointed it out and we stood before the
beast.

A white Cadillac Eldorado, circa 1970.  Rag top.  Mint condition it
was, with less than forty thousand miles on the clock.  "You be careful
with her, son," Dad said.

"I will.  Don't worry."

Sam and I climbed into the thing and I fired her up.  Purred like a
kitten with sharp claws.  I waited until we were out of the garage and
around the corner before we pulled the latches and dropped the top.  On
the on ramp, I gave her some juice and we flew onto the highway.
Detroit Iron at its best.  Cruising down the highway like a big old
dinosaur, as the song goes.

Sam's hair was whipping all over and she had to tie it back.  After a
bit of fun, I kept it at the limit and we made the airport in
practically no time.  We began to notice many older cars like the Caddy
on the roads; I guess being spared the winters we have back home cars
lasted a lot longer here.

I parked near the back of the lot so the beast wouldn't get its doors
dinged, I hoped, and we went to check on Sam's parents' flight.  We had
about an hour to kill, so we grabbed coffees and sat down.  "One of
mum's cronies knows a priest who'll marry us tomorrow," I said.
"There's a nice little chapel not far away, and there's an outdoor area
that overlooks the ocean."

"An outside wedding?" Sam asked.  "That might be nice."

"I'll call when we get back.  It could be very nice.  On the beach,
maybe?"

"I'd get sand in my shoes."

"So don't wear shoes," I said.

"Ya right.  That should go over big with the parents.  Standing
barefoot in sand with a nice suit on."

I had to laugh, picturing the scene.  "Well, we'll see."

The arrival was announced and we went to greet Sam's parents.  I went
out to fetch the Caddy and wheeled it around the front of the terminal,
leaving the top up and with the air conditioning on.  Isabella and
Robert had never seen this part of the woods before, and seemed
impressed by the lush greenery around, the sights of the ocean from the
road.  I took a side street that passed alongside a stretch of beach,
then turned up a road and drove through a touristy part of town.

I'd booked a room for them, so we stopped at the hotel first so they
could freshen up a little, then we all drove over to see my folks.  As
I said, Sam's parents were easy people to get to know and it wasn't
long before we were all like old friends.  Sam and I got on the phone
to the priest and arranged a time to meet with him, then we all went
out for dinner at a seafood buffet.


[part 2]

Samantha and I took a drive next morning to visit the chapel and meet
the priest who would marry us.  It was a rather small building and it
was perched on a low, rocky cliff, overlooking the ocean.  There was a
lovely open-air terrace out back.  A small and tasteful altar backed
onto the ocean with benches in front, and the area was lush with green
plants.  Reverend Samuelson was a lot younger than I expected; he
looked to be around late twenties, thirty at most.  Tall and wiry with
shoulder length sandy brown hair tied back in a ponytail.

"We do a non denominational type of service here," the priest told us,
"for people who've become disillusioned with big religion.  People who
may be stressed out from the hustle of modern life and are seeking a
more relaxed form of worship."

Sam said, "You have a very nice church here."

"Thanks, it is a rather pretty spot.  Our worship centers on the Earth,
and God's hand in the glorious creations upon it," he said.  "I like to
focus on the everyday goodness all around us and how individuals, and
society as a whole can, through simple things, become more in tune with
the wonders of nature."

"I have to agree with that," I said.

"Please forgive me for asking, Miss, but you are with child?"

"Why yes, I am," Samantha answered.  "How did you know?"

"The miracle of creation shines brightly from within you, Samantha."

Reverend Samuelson suggested an evening ceremony on the terrace.  "I've
performed many marriages at that time of day," he said.  "Twilight, the
closing of one day and then the awakening to the next, a new day, a new
life for you both."

"That sounds nice," said Sam.

Sam and I drove back to deliver the news to our parents.  Then, after
lunch, we left the old folks to chat, and we hit the beach for a few
hours.  Some time for us alone before the wedding.

The wedding was every bit as beautiful as we imagined it could be.
Sunset in the background washing across the alter might have been a
nice touch, but we were on the wrong coast for that.  But the sky was
flooded with gorgeous reds and golds that evening, the air, warm and
calm, and the sounds of the waves breaking on the rocks below the
terrace added a subtle yet powerful reminder of the continuation of
human existence on this planet we call Earth.  Samantha was moved to
tears by the beauty of it all, as was I.

As Reverend Samuelson finished the ceremony, as the light in the sky
faded away, small garden lanterns winked on amongst the plants that
bordered the area.  I turned to Sam, held her close, and kissed my
lovely wife.

Dad drove us all to a fine restaurant for a late dinner and the
celebrations continued well into the night.  Envelopes of cash were
handed to me by both parents, enough to pay for our honeymoon trip and
then some.  My dad dropped Sam, me, and her parents off at the hotel
afterwards.

We all met up again next morning for the trip to the airport in my
dad's big boat, which he let me drive.

"Great car dad," I told him.

"I bought it off Mr. Rosenburg on the sixth floor after he failed the
eye test and they pulled his licence," Pop said.  "Nice eh?"

I gunned her a little to pass a truck, felt the big barrels open up and
the tranny kick down.

"A big cream puff with a bite," I said.  "I love it."

After goodbyes were said, after Sam's folks caught their flight back to
Winnipeg, Sam and I found a travel agent.  We wanted a small cottage of
some sort, private and quiet, on a beach.  The lady said she had an
idea, and placed a few calls.

"There's a small resort on Cat Island that's run by locals," she told
us.  "It's not very luxurious and there's not much nightlife around,
but the cottages are far apart and clean, hot water, T.V., and on a
lovely stretch of beach.  They have one open, if you're interested."

An hour later, we were boarding the small plane to Nassau.  A twenty-
minute flight, then an hour by ferry boat, and we were there.  The
owners were around fifty and looked like they'd just come from the
Woodstock music festival, tie dyed shirts and all.  Leon and his wife
Rachel both had long, sun bleached hair, no shoes, and an easygoing
peace about them that only comes from spending a lot of time in
paradise.  Leon took Sam and me to our cottage in his old beat up jeep.

"There's a bigger resort on the other side of the island," he told us
as we wound through the thick jungle, "They have a place where you can
go for eats if the mood strikes you.  Call and leave a message and I'll
come pick you up, or you can walk, just follow the trail.  It's not too
far.  The cottage has a kitchen and there's some food supplied.  I'll
take you to the town later on if you want to get some things."  A
little one-room house set into the trees.  No lock on the door.  Miles
of beach at the doorstep.

"The town's just up the beach," said Leon, pointing.  "Maybe twenty
minutes walk.  Ain't much there but there's a store and place to get a
meal."

"This is a great place you got here, Leon," I said.

"Well thanks, Jim.  If you need anything, just call.  Have a nice
stay."

"Let's go for a swim," Sam said after we'd settled in.

Sam and I had a very interesting week on the beach at Leon and Rachel's
place.  That first day we put together lunch from what was in the
cottage, and around dinner time we were about to go out when Leon came
by in his old beat up boat.

"Got some fish here," he called to us, "want some?"  Three nice fish,
which I cleaned and Sam fried in butter and breadcrumbs, made us a fine
dinner.  Next day we took a stroll up the beach to town, passing a few
other cottages along the way.  In front of one place, an older couple
were sunning themselves on a blanket spread out on the sand.

They were getting a nice overall tan since neither of them had any
clothing on.  We weren't going to intrude, but the woman called to us
as Sam and I passed by.  We ended up chatting for a bit with the
couple, who showed no distress at all at being caught naked by us.
Turned out the guy had served in Vietnam with Leon and they came here
for two weeks every year.  They both looked fit and trim, the man's
wife was in very good shape, the grey hair on them both being the only
real clue as to the couple's actual age.  And the woman was not quite
naked.

Both Sam and I had trouble not staring.  The lady had two shiny silver
bangle-type bracelets that fit rather closely around her wrists.
Another polished, flat band of metal was around her neck.  The
bracelets looked like they'd be too small to get off over the woman's
hands, and the collar, for that was surely what it was, had no catch or
opening in it that I could see.  There was a small but sturdy ring in
the front of the collar that looked like it was part of the metal,
almost as if it grew that way.  From the ring a round medallion hung, a
bright green stone in the centre of it.

But we weren't going to intrude, so after talking with Pat and John for
a few minutes, we got up to continue our walk.  "Maybe we could get
together for dinner some time," I said to John.

"Drop by any time," he said.  "We'll be here."

It wasn't much of a town at the end of the beach, more like a little
fishing village with a few buildings around.  But there was a store
where we bought some fruit and vegetables , and a place to get a really
delicious lunch.

A bulletin board on the wharf announced a festival coming up at the end
of the week.  A party fortuitously timed to close out our honeymoon.
With bags of groceries in hand, we walked back to our cabin.  Pat and
John were still where we'd left them, on their stomachs this time,
cooking their behinds in the sun.  John noticed our approach.

"Pat and I are going to the resort across the island for supper
tonight," he said.  "Would you two like to join us?"

Sam looked at me, but I was blatantly starring at Pat's collar.  Her
hair had fallen away from it, and from the back, there seemed to be no
opening or catch either, just a solid band of metal encircling her
neck.  Perhaps an inch wide and maybe a quarter inch thick, it wasn't
tight around the woman's throat, but it surely was on there to stay.
John saw me looking.

"Sorry, John," I said to him.  "Your wife has some rather nice
jewellery.  I think Sam and I would be interested in hearing about it.
May we join you two for supper tonight?"

Pat's hand idly reached out to touch her husband's hand.  The bracelet
flashed in the sunlight.  She said, "We'll stop by your cabin around
six.  It's only a short walk to the other side."

Sam waited until we'd gone farther down the beach before she spoke.  "I
used to think it was only me who was like this.  But then I met you,
then I met Mike and the twins, and now those two on the beach.  Did you
see the woman's bracelets?  How close they fit around her wrists?  And
that collar, what's up with that?"

"Same thing as those bracelets with the chain that you've got, I guess.
I used to think I was the only one too.  But then you start to hear
things, you meet people that have the same kind of ideas, interests, as
you do, and suddenly it's not so weird after all."

"Pat and John seemed to be very happy together," Sam said, "how long do
you thing they've been married?"

"I expect we'll find out tonight."

At first, when Pat and John walked up to our cottage and stopped in
front, I didn't recognise them with their clothes on.  Pat had on a
long skirt and a shirt, John, just shorts and a shirt.  I wore the
same, and Sam put on a short skirt with a belly-revealing top.  We
talked a bit on the hike through the forest about general things.  The
couple had been married thirty-seven years this past July.

"We got hitched just before I shipped out to 'Nam," said John.

"That was a pretty rough war from what I understand," I said.

"Don't get me started," he warned.  "It was every bit the farce that
you've heard and then some.  Don't get Leon started on it either, he
had it a lot worse than I did.  Made some good friends over there,
though.  Only good thing about it all."

The resort on the other side of the island was one of those big multi-
storied hotels with the swimming pool right by the ocean, in case you
didn't like salt water or something.  Tennis courts, a small golf
course, everything.  An excellent dining room too.  Casual dress seemed
to be the order of the day, fortunately.

Sam was getting dizzy following Pat's bracelets as she moved her hands
around.  Her interest in them was not lost on John, or Pat.

"I'm not wishing to embarrass you, Pat," I said to John, "but my wife
and I have rather a fascination with your wife's rather unusual
bracelets.  Would you like to tell us a bit about them?"

"A buddy of mine from the engineering corps made them for us," John
told us.  "The bracelets, and the necklace, well," he looked at his
wife, "it's a collar actually, they're a special grade of stainless
steel.  My pal Billy, he can weld anything that ain't moving too fast.
He did a set like that for his girl, and for a couple other friends,
and I got him to do Pat here."

"How long have you had them?" Sam asked Pat.

"Quite some time now.  Nearly thirty years, right John?"  John nodded.
Sam looked stunned.

I asked, "So Bill formed the metal and then welded them on?"

"That's it," said John.  "It's kinda tricky, but he knows all the
tricks.  The collar was the tough one.  He obviously couldn't finish
the weld underneath, so you can feel the seam in back a bit.  Honey?"

Pat let Sam and I feel under her collar.  The thing was a little heavy
as I lifted it on her neck.  I slid my finger underneath, between the
hard, solid metal strip and the woman's soft skin of her neck.  I felt
a slight, smooth, indentation where the ends were joined.  I turned the
collar back around to examine the medallion that hung in front.  The
circular pendant was gold with a silver design around the edge and a
cryptic sort of lettering around the green cut stone in the centre.

"This is very nice," I said.

"Take it off," John told me.

It felt creepy touching this woman's collar, this woman who was so
obviously, owned, I guess is the best word, by her husband.  The
medallion attached to the collar by a nicely crafted snap fastener.  I
pushed the catch and unhooked it from the ring.  When I moved it away
from her collar, the ring stood out starkly for what it was.  An
attachment point.  The ring was seamlessly a part of the collar, fixed
vertically in place.

I looked at Sam.  Sam was dreamy eyed, and she was staring at Pat's
collar.  Pat saw Sam's look, then she raised her hands up under her
chin to clink her metal bracelets against the front of her collar.
Samantha's intake of breath was audible to us all.

I looked closely at the pendant in my hand, warm, from resting against
the woman's throat.  The central stone twinkled, reflecting the lights
in the dining room.  It seemed to glow with an inner fire.  The piece
felt heavy in my hand.

"It's beautiful," I said.

"Picked it up in Bangkok when I was on leave.  How much do you think
it's worth?" John asked me.

I looked at him.  "I haven't a clue."

"The base is twenty four carat gold," John informed me.  "The design
and the lettering is inlaid platinum.  And the emerald is nearly three
carats."

I let out a soft whistle.  "A lot, I guess."

"Had it appraised again five years ago for the insurance company.
You're holding close to a million bucks there."

"Wow!" both Sam and I exclaimed.

John added, "I carried that with me all the time I was in 'Nam.  It was
my good luck charm.  I got out of there without so much as a scratch,
so I guess it worked.  I just kept on thinkin' "I've gotta get home and
give this to Pat".  Read the back."

I turned the medallion over.  The back surface was worn along the lower
edge, probably from being in contact with Pat's skin for a long time.
The engraving was faint and I held it up to the light.

"It's starting to fade," Pat said.  "My lovely Patrice, my heart, my
rock, all my love, Jonathan."

"I should take it in and get the inscription redone," John told her.

"Now, John," Pat said, "it might break the spell if you alter it."

"Ya, you might be right."

After dinner, on the way back to the cottages, the older couple held
each other close, like star-crossed lovers.  Anyone could see there was
still a deep attraction there between them after all those years
together.  As deep a feeling for one another as between Samantha and
me, just starting out.  I prayed Sam and I would still be so happy
together at that age.

It was just beginning to get dark when we reached our cottage and I
shook John's hand as we said goodnight.  Pat gave Samantha a hug.  Sam
took Pat's hands in hers, then slid them down to feel the woman's
bracelets.  I watched her hands linger a bit too long on the woman's
bracelets, feeling around them, hefting their weight.  John couldn't
help but notice too.

He said to me, "If you and your pretty bride are interested, I could
put you in touch with my buddy Billy.  He's getting on in years now,
but he might be willing to do something like that for you."

"It's a distinct possibility," I said, "thanks, we'll let you know."

Samantha was really hot that night over those two bracelets that Pat
had.  We went for a late night swim, hoping she'd cool down a little.
We walked naked in the moonlight from the cabin, down the beach, and
out into the sea.  Of course, that did little to quell Sam's desire
any.  In the water, she began to rub herself up against me.  "Jim," she
cooed in my ear.

"Yes Sam?"

"Jim.  Uh, those two bracelets."

"You'd like me to talk to John?"

"Would you like it if I had bracelets like that on me all the time?"

"Yes Sam, I think that would be nice."

"Thank you, master," she said.

We fucked in the ocean, we screwed on the beach, then again later, in
bed.  Throughout it all Sam managed to keep her screams of ecstasy down
to a low roar.  I was proud of her, and completely done in afterwards.
We slept in late the next morning.

We spent a lazy morning lying out in the sun, swimming when it got too
hot, then back to the blanket for a while.  We were starting to think
about lunch when I caught the flash of sunlight and saw Pat and John
strolling down the beach towards us.  Leon was having a get together
and they invited us to come along.

"If it's no bother, that would be nice," Sam said.  Sam grabbed a shirt
to throw over her bikini since the sun was getting fierce.  Pat had a
short sundress over her swimsuit.  It was only a fifteen-minute walk
along the beach to Leon's place.  We found Leon out back, stoking a
fire in a brick barbecue.  John called to him as we approached.

"Found a couple people on the beach who looked lonely," he said.  "Got
something extra to feed them?"

"Ivan dropped off a bushel of crab this morning.  I think there's
enough to go around."

Leon hoisted a big iron pot onto the grill over the fire, then started
filling it with water from a hose.  Just then Rachel came out of the
house carrying a big tray loaded with plates, glasses, and bottles of
drink.  I went to give her a hand, and when I took the tray from her, I
saw something that almost made me drop it.  I managed to mask my
surprised look, but I saw Sam stare.

Rachel was wearing a very skimpy thong bikini.  What caught my eye was
a bright flash of sunlight at her waist.  She had on, I assumed, some
of Billy's handiwork.  A wide band of shiny metal encircled her middle.
Rachel thanked me for taking the heavy tray and I turned away to set it
on the table.  But I had to look back at her, at the strip of metal
around her tummy.  She saw that I was staring, but I expected she was
used to people looking.

"John told us about Pat's jewellery," I said to her, "is that more of
Bill's handiwork?"

"I had him make me this after I saw Pat's," Rachel said.  Samantha had
come over to join me; Leon was watching us.  Rachel did a little twirl,
showing off the piece, the sunlight sparkling off the metal band.  It
was one solid band of polished steel, maybe an inch and a half wide,
and it fit her rather tightly around her waist.  It had two holes in it
at the back, around six inches apart, and one slightly larger one in
front.  John came to the table, opened a bottle, and began filling
glasses.  I had to sit down.

"Billy really does fine work," I said.  "John, my wife has expressed a
deep interest in those bracelets that Pat has.  If you could put us in
touch with your friend, we both would really appreciate it."

"No problem," he said, "I'll give him a call."

John handed Sam and I glasses of the drink, a coconut flavoured liquid,
locally brewed and very refreshing.  Leon joined us around the table
while waiting for the water to boil.  Sam and I heard the tale of
Rachel's unusually located slave collar.

Rachel started the story.  "Pat and I were close while the boys were
away.  When they got back, Leon and I settled down here, on this
island.  It was a couple years later when Pat and John came for a
visit, and Pat just had her collar put on.  I really thought it was
neat and Leon liked it too.  We talked a bit about me getting one made,
but we were having problems back then."

"I was having problems," Leon explained.

"Leon was wounded in the war," Rachel continued.  "It took us a long
time to work through what happened to him over there.  That's why we
came here, to get away from people, the troubles back home.  Anyway,
Pat and John came to visit again the next year and she had her
bracelets then.  Pat took me aside and showed me how the bracelets and
the collar could be used, and told me how hot it made her feel when
John would lock her hands to her collar at night."  Rachel suddenly
looked up at Sam and me.  "Oh, I hope you two know what I'm talking
about here."

"Samantha and I are into these sort of things too," I said.  "We both
enjoy our little bondage sessions.  Please, go on."

"Well anyway, Leon and I talked about it, having me get something made
by Billy.  We talked about it and I had an idea that I thought he might
like.  I didn't tell him right out, I thought it would be a nice
surprise.  Leon said, "Well you're the one has to wear it, get
something you'll like."  He's not really into the bondage thing like
John is, so I did.

"I went back home with John and Pat and they took me to see Billy the
welder.  I thought my idea was weird, but he understood perfectly and
showed me how it would work.  He cut up some cardboard and had me hold
the pieces together, and I thought, "Wow!  This is really great."  So I
had him do it."

Sam and I were lost now, and it must have shown.  Leon got up to toss
some crabs in the pot.

"Honey, why don't you get the salad and put on the other piece."

"OK."

Rachel disappeared into the house.  Pat went with her.  Leon sat beside
me.  He told me about where he was wounded in the war; how a piece of
shrapnel had come through the side of a truck he was riding in.  "Got
me right where it hurts.  So that was the end of that.  Rachel and I
couldn't have kids after that, so that's where she got the idea for the
belt.  She's a fine woman for putting up with me all these years."

The first batch of crab was done, and Leon got up to scoop them out and
add some more.  Pat came out of the house carrying a bowl of green
salad and another with potato salad.  Rachel carried herself.  I'd read
about these things, seen web sites devoted to the topic.  Now here one
was, worn by Rachel, who came to the table and sat down with a solid
sounding thump.  She shifted around a bit to adjust her most intimate
areas to the confines of the chastity belt.  Sam was stunned
speechless.  I gaped.

"My God, Rachel," I said.  "It's beautiful."  Rachel still had on her
string bikini top, but she'd traded the thong bottom for the other part
of her belt.  The metal matched the waist belt and flowed from it, down
her front and underneath to emerge behind her, dividing into two, and
joining the belt again in back.  She'd looked embarrassed when she'd
come out, but seeing both Samantha's and my enthusiastic and admiring
looks, she stood up to model the device before our wide eyes.  I looked
closer, oblivious to the goings on around me.

The lower part connected beautifully with the belt, fastened by a
rather strange looking bolt.  It narrowed where it passed between the
woman's legs and I could see a small opening she could pee through.  In
back, it opened a little wider over her ass, then the piece flowed back
up her ass cheeks to become fixed to the back of her belt by two screw
like fittings similar to the one in front.  The whole thing was quite
tight against her flesh.  Rachel saw that I noticed.  "I've put on a
little weight over the years," she said.

"Billy put it on her with big rivets at first," Leon said.  "That's how
she came back to me, locked away forever.  I was really touched then,
that she'd do that for me.  She told me that if I couldn't have her,
than no one would."

"How, uh," Sam found her voice and tried again.  "How long did you wear
it like that?"

"Over ten years, wasn't it Leon?" said Rachel as she carefully sat down
again.  "I'd gain a little weight and it would get uncomfortable, then
I'd have to run on the beach to work it off.  When I got older the
weight became harder to lose, and that's when it started to become a
real problem."

"Took a week to get it off her," Leon told us.  "I had to file off the
rivets and then knock 'em out with a punch.  Billy made those bolts for
us after, so we could put it on and take it off.  Without the crotch
piece on, the waist belt sits up higher, so she's not so bothered by
it.

Halfway through the meal, Rachel started to look rather uncomfortable
and she asked Samantha if she could give her a hand for a few minutes.
In a little while they came back out, Rachel wearing her thong again,
minus the shiny steel bottom part of the belt.  I could see deep
reddened marks on her hips and on her bum where the device had pressed
against her flesh.  The waist belt rode higher on her middle now, and
she looked much more relaxed.

The lunch lasted most of the afternoon, a peaceful meal under the trees
in Leon's back yard by the seashore.  Besides the never ending supply
of delicious fresh crab and the salads, we had fresh baked bread with
sweet butter and a bowl of cut up fruit on the table.  Later on, Rachel
and Pat brought out a pot of tea and a cake with chunks of pineapple
baked into it.  John came out of the house and sat with Samantha and
me.

"I put in a call to Billy the welder but he wasn't home.  He's got his
shop in Oklahoma.  I'll try again tomorrow, if you two are still
interested.  I haven't seen him for a few years now, but I imagine he
still does custom work for folks."

I asked, "How much would he charge me for two bracelets?"

"He won't "charge" you anything," John told me.  "This sort of work is
a labour of love to him.  Slip him whatever you think it's worth to
you, he'll appreciate it.  Bring along a bottle of Jack Daniels, but
don't give it to him until he's done, that way you won't have to wait
around for him to sober up."

Our honeymoon trip just kept getting stranger and stranger.  Late that
evening we all piled into Leon's jeep and he took us back to the
cabins.  Sam and I had our nightly nude swim in the ocean, then we went
to bed.

"Master?" Sam whispered in my ear.

"Yes, little one?"

"Are we going to visit Oklahoma on the way home?"

"If you'd like.  I'll get Billy to make you a belt like Rachel had."

"I don't think a baby would fit through that little opening in the
bottom."  Sam was quiet for a while, then she spoke again.  "Rachel and
Leon don't have sex, you know."

"I sort of guessed that," I said.  "Leon told us how he got hurt in the
war."

"He gives her pleasures in other ways.  She really loves him a lot."

"I know."

"Good night, master."

"Good night, Sam."

We met the people in the cottage next to ours one day while walking
down the beach.  A young couple, around our age, from Timmins, a town
in northern Ontario.  They had two kids, a boy and a little girl.  The
wife had won an obscene amount of money in the lottery and they owned
the sailboat that we'd seen anchored out in the water.  They'd bought
the boat in England and were living the life, sailing the seven seas.

Another day Leon told us a bit more about their life on the island.
When they'd settled here there were only about twenty people living on
Cat Island.  Five years ago, they put up the big hotel on the other
side and now there was an even bigger one going up at the southeast
end.

"Rachel and I used to go for weeks without seeing another soul," he
told us.  "The locals knew we'd come here for the peace and quiet and
they left us alone.  You could go around naked for weeks at a time
without anyone bothering you.  Everybody'd seen Rachel's belt, and I
look a lot scarier naked, so me and Rach could do whatever we liked.
We started the cottages around ten years ago to pick up a few bucks
after the V.A. money ran out, and it's worked out quite well for us.
The hotel coming brought more people, and it brought money here too.
Folks got jobs building it, or workin' there.  Armand bought new boat
and he runs tours around the islands, and there's a steady market for
the local farmers and fishermen too."

John finally got through to Billy the welder.  Billy's son was taking
over the business, but old Bill would be pleased to do Sam two
bracelets.  Sam was as happy as I was on hearing that.  John drew us a
map to Billy's shop, just outside of Oklahoma City.  "Should only take
him an afternoon to do it," John told me.  "I think you'll be pleased
with the results."

"I think we both will.  Thanks John.  We'll go see him straight from
here at the end of the week."

I exchanged addresses with Pat and John, and we promised we'd keep in
touch.  Leon and Rachel too, and we told them that we'd try to come
back to stay at their little piece of paradise some day.  All too
quickly our honeymoon drew to a close, and everyone on the island, and
from neighbouring islands as well, congregated in the little fishing
village at the north end of Cat Island for the annual festival.  It was
a great party, with a couple of bands providing the music.  The food
was fantastic and plentiful, and the drink flowed freely.  Sam and I
danced until we could dance no more.  The festival continued long into
the night when Sam and I staggered along the beach and back to our
little cabin by the sea.  We collapsed in a fit of giggles on the bed.


After a long goodbye to Rachel and Leon, Sam and I boarded the
ferryboat to Nassau.  At the airport I picked up a bottle of Jack at
the duty free, then we caught the shuttle to Miami and a flight to
Oklahoma City.  We landed in the late afternoon, and the weather there
was warm and sunny.  I rented a car to drive into town.  I stopped to
call Billy Brown's welding shop but got no answer, so Sam and I booked
a room at a nearby hotel and then we drove around to see a few sights.
I stopped at a bank and cashed a cheque.  John said pay what I though
it was worth.  After seeing Billy's work in person, Sam's bracelets
would be priceless to us, so I figured five hundred wouldn't be too out
of line.  I got some extra cash to spend on food and stuff as well.

After supper that evening, I spoke to Billy.  I said we'd met John and
Pat in the Bahamas the week before, and that John had talked to him
about us coming to visit with him.

"You're the fellow wanted the bracelets made?" Bill asked me.

"That's right," I said.  "I've seen some of your earlier works and
thought they looked very nice."

He asked if we had a place to stay and I gave him the name of the hotel
we were at.

"Well, come on by in the morning and we'll fix you up," he said.

Next morning we drove out to Billy's place on the outskirts of the
city, out in farm country.  A high wood fence bordered the property
along the road, and when I turned the car in at the gate, I could see
why.  The yard in front held an ugly collection of rusted cars, rusted
trucks, rusted barrels and big tanks, and rusted piles of rust that
might have been farming machinery at one time or another.  Goats and
sheep grazed the grass around the junk; chickens patrolled the
perimeter of the house.  A mangy black dog announced our arrival.  I
parked at the side of the barn beside a rusty tractor.  Billy came out
of the house and crossed the yard to greet us.  Bill walked with a
pronounced limp and his mop of grey hair fluttered in the breeze.  He
looked to be around seventy, or eighty.  Or ninety.  I was further
disconcerted when he shook my hand, and I noticed a couple of his
fingers were missing.

"You must be Jim.  And Samantha," he said, taking her hand, "you're the
one wants the bracelets, right?"

"I saw the ones you made for Pat and I thought they were very nice,"
Sam said to him.

Bill had taken hold of Samantha's hands and was looking at them through
his smudged glasses.  He turned her hands over, felt around them,
stepped back to look up and down at her.  I stood there feeling
somewhat uncomfortable.

Billy ushered us both into the barn that was his workshop.  The inside
smelled of machinery and grease and was dimly lit by dirty fluorescent
lights.  We were shown to the rear of the barn, to an area where a
cluttered workbench stood.  There, on the bench, shining brightly in
the sunlight coming from a streaked window, was a steel rod about three
feet long.  Billy picked it up and held it before us.

"This is stainless steel," he said.  "The same kind surgeons use to
make pins when they put a shattered bone back together.  It won't
corrode, it won't give you a rash of any kind like cheap jewellery can.
It's a little hard so it won't scratch too easily.  It's not so hard
you couldn't cut it off if you had to, if you had an emergency of some
kind."

The rod was a quarter inch in diameter.  Bill held it against Sam's
wrist.  He looked at it, at her arm, at her, muttering to himself.  He
had her hold the metal rod while he went behind a shelf to rummage
through a pile of bits and pieces.  I became aware of many shiny pieces
of the same type metal amongst the piles of clutter in the area, ends
and trimmings from the man's craftings.  Bill came back with another
piece of rod, a little shorter.  When he laid the two together across
Sam's wrists I saw the other piece was a tiny bit thicker.  "How much
do you weigh, honey?"

Sam told him.  He started feeling Sam up, around her hips, her thighs,
her arms.  Sam looked at me, and I was getting a little agitated at the
man's seemingly taking liberties with my wife.  Bill must have sensed
our unease, and he stopped to look at me.  "This ain't a part for a
tractor I'm makin'," he said to me.  "These bracelets are going to
become a part of this girl, hopefully for a long time to come.  I've
got to make the size right for her now, and I have to be convinced
they'll be suitable for her in years to come."  He turned to Sam.
"They might be a bit uncomfortable for a little while, but you'll get
used to them soon enough.  You have to be certain you still want me to
make 'em for you."

Sam looked at me again.  I spoke.  "Sorry Bill.  I see you want to do
your best here.  I'm just not used to seeing another man touching my
wife."

"Well son, you'd better get used to it, 'cause I'm gonna be doin' a lot
more touching before the day's through."

Bill was right.  Sam ended up naked, standing in the middle of the old
man's dusty workshop while he sized her new bracelets.  Old Billy got a
charge when he saw Sam's labia rings.  When Sam told him she was going
to have a baby, Bill said that changed things, and he scratched out
some numbers he'd wrote down, then took some more measurements.  He was
using callipers and an old ruler and I saw the markings had almost
become worn away from use.  I made the mistake of asking him how he
could read the measurements off the old tool.

He snorted.  "I remember where the numbers used to be," he told me.

I shut up after that.

It took a couple hours before Bill was satisfied with the reading he'd
got from Sam's hands and wrists, and other places that I couldn't see
had anything to do with making two bracelets, but he seemed to know
what he was doing.  Or at least he made it look like he did.  Bill
found a thick piece of steel bar and chucked it in an ancient engine
lathe in the corner of the shop.  With a great rumbling noise, the
machine started, and steel chips flew as he turned the bar down to the
diameter he wanted.  Bill ground the gears of the big machine and made
the chuck run slow.  He'd settled on the piece of rod that was a tiny
bit thicker than a quarter inch.  He mounted a holder, pushed the piece
of stainless rod into a hole in the round piece in the chuck, and
started the machine again to wind the rod around the bar, forming
Samantha's bracelets in less than six seconds.  Bill took the piece out
of the lathe and over to a band saw to cut through the coils of
stainless rod, then came back and handed Sam her bracelets.

"What's next?" she asked, as she looked at the two rings of metal.

"We'll get them on you and go have lunch," Bill said.  "After lunch,
I'll do the welds."

Billy pried open the two rings and filed the edges of the cuts.  He
then had Sam slip the bracelets over her hands.  At the workbench, Bill
had Sam lay her wrist on a board, then he used a wooden mallet to bang
the ring closed.  He did the other one, then measured around the
bracelet.  He brought Sam over to a vice and opened it, put Sam's arm
in it, and closed the vice down on the bracelet.  This went on for a
while, squeezing and measuring each ring until Billy was satisfied they
were both perfectly round.  Then we broke for lunch.

In the farmhouse, Sam and I met Bill's wife Betty.  Betty wore the
bracelets too.

"I cut her collar off several years ago," Bill informed us.  "Folks
around these parts just could never get used to the idea.  Old Bet
wouldn't part with the bracelets though.  Seein' them on her, feelin'
them on her at night, I'd miss 'em too.  Show these youngsters the
other two, Hon."

Betty lifted the hem of her long dress.  Two bracelets adorned her
ankles, larger ones, and made of thicker rod than those around her
wrists.  She smiled at Sam and me, then dropped her dress and turned
back to the stove.

Betty served us all bowels of thick, delicious soup along with still
warm fresh bread and creamy butter.  I talked a bit about the great
time we had at Leon's place in the Bahamas.  I talked about Rachel and
about the belt Bill made for her.

"She show you both parts?" Bill asked.  I nodded, and he continued.
"She's a fine lady, she is.  She came to me with this idea and at
first, I thought it was great, with what happened to poor Leon and all.
But it was the hardest thing I ever done.  Not the makin' of it, it was
at the end when I was puttin' it on her.  When I was banging down those
three rivets, I just kept thinkin' "this girl's pussy's gonna be shut
away for a long time now".  Me and the missus went to visit 'em a year
later.  I took Rach aside and checked her over, I was worried how she
could'a took to somethin' like that 'round her all the time."

Betty stepped in.  "Them two was the happiest couple you ever saw.  I
don't know how Rach ever stood that thing on her, but it seemed it
brought the two of them together like nothin' I ever seen, it did."

"Yup," Bill added.

I could see Sam was a little awkward negotiating eating her lunch with
her new bracelets on.  I could also see her eyes were on them almost
all the time.  Mine were too, for that matter.  After a leisurely
lunch, we headed back to the shop for part two.

Billy found a pair of heavy welding gloves, and an insulated sleeve,
for Samantha.  He had her put one sleeve and glove on and he tucked the
cuff under her bracelet.  He used strips of an insulating material and
jammed them between the inside of the ring and the glove.  He slid a
thin plastic tube under the sleeve, positioning it under all the
padding, in the area where the welding would take place.  Connecting
the tube to a regulator, he adjusted the airflow.  An ancient sounding
compressor somewhere in the shop wheezed to life.

"That tickles," Samantha said.

"The air will keep things cool under there, darlin'.  This all is going
to be tight on you for a little while.  You tell me if it troubles you
too much."

Bill used a clamp-like thing to press the bracelet tightly closed where
the ends would be joined.  He positioned Sam's arm over a tank of
water.

"If it starts to get really hot, you drop into the water.  OK?  If it's
not too bad, you wait for me to tell you.  Don't look at the flame
either, it'll hurt your eyes."

Billy took off his glasses and put on a pair of dark ones.  He took up
the torch and lit it with a bang and a whoosh.  He tuned the flame.
Then he picked up a thin piece of filler rod and brought the blue flame
down onto the bracelet around Sam's wrist.  The spot where the bracelet
was cut began to glow red, then yellow, and finally a bright white.
Separated from her skin by a thin bit of padding.  Billy quickly worked
the torch and the filler rod around the joint.  He pushed up on the
bottom of the clamp to raise the bracelet off the insulating padding
and, working fast, he finished the weld on the inside.  Then he shut
off the torch valves and the flame went out with a pop.  He set the
torch aside and used an air hose to start cooling the metal down.

"You OK, honey?" he asked.  "It has to cool slowly or the metal becomes
brittle.  You'll get surface cracks then."  He took a few drops of
water and let them fall on the red-hot weld.  They popped and fizzled
into steam.  He blew some more air.  Sam began to get agitated as the
heat finally soaked through the padding.  A final blast of compressed
air and Billy plunged my wife's arm into the tank of water.

Bill pulled the padding from under the bracelet and pulled the sodden
glove off her hand.  Sam had a nice bracelet around her left wrist.

"Her right hand's a bit bigger than her left," Bill said to me, "so I
made that one a cunt hair big-oops, sorry miss.  A little bigger than
her left one, so they'll feel right."

Billy repeated the welding procedure with Sam's other bracelet.  With
the welding done, he clamped one in the vice and used a small hand-
held grinder to smooth out the welds.  He used a variety of little
stones and sandpaper wheels to grind and then polish the joints.  Sam
sat on the bench, her arm in the bracelet that was clamped in the vice,
watching him.

Billy worked for over three hours, making the joints in the two
bracelets perfect.  He wrapped plastic around Sam's wrists under each
bracelet and used a polishing compound to make the metal sparkle.  When
he was done, you could not find where the bracelets had been welded, so
perfect was his workmanship.  We went out into the sunlight to admire
Samantha's new jewellery.

"They're really nice," Sam said to him.  "Thanks, Billy."  She gave the
old man a peck on the cheek.

"Thank you darling.  I always enjoy addin' a bit of beauty to an
already pretty girl."

Betty invited us to stay for supper but I declined.  I was eager to get
back to the hotel.  Bill walked us to the car and I gave him the
bottle.  I also gave him the five hundred dollars.  When I'd first seen
his place, I had serious doubts about the man's abilities to produce
the things I'd seen, but now, seeing Sam and her bracelets flashing in
the sunlight, I knew it had been well worth coming here.  Billy Brown
peeled off a hundred and gave it back to me.  "Buy this girl a pretty
new dress," he said, handing me the bill.

"Thanks, Billy," I said, shaking his hand, "you're a true craftsman."

We drove back into the city and I stopped at a shopping plaza.  At a
hardware store, I bought a medium sized brass padlock.  We had a quick
bite to eat in a restaurant there, then we headed back to the hotel.
We both took a fast shower together.  Sam sat down on the bed.  I had
her put her hands behind her back.  The lock slipped easily through
both her bracelets and I clicked it closed.  It was just too perfect.

I lay on my back and I had Sam move herself on top of me, upside down.
She had no hands with which to support herself so she nestled her face
in my crotch.  I feasted on pussy pie for dessert, lapping her slit and
tinkling her rings with my tongue, pushing in as deep inside her as I
could get.  Sam moved her head around and got my cock into her mouth,
then went down on it, taking it deep.  I had my head propped up on a
pillow and I could see her hands grasping her ass cheeks, her shiny new
bracelets locked together with the lock.  I stroked the length of her
slit, then settled in to madly attack her clit with my tongue.  I ate
Sam through three huge cums, my face and hair drowned in her sticky
juices by the time I'd finished.  Sam was bobbing her head on my cock
and I just couldn't take it anymore.  I reached past her ass and
grabbed hold of her hands.  I felt the smooth surface of the steel
bracelets, and I came in a massive outburst into my sweet wife's mouth.

A little later, Sam rolled off me and I reached for the key on the
bedside table.  I fitted the key and opened the lock.  It came off her
bracelets with a simple twist.  Fast, easy, no fuss.  Just perfect.  We
were both covered in cum, so we took another quick shower together.
Sam's new bracelets looked simply stunning against her bare skin.  The
polished, silver coloured steel against her skin, nicely tanned from
our time in the sun.  The two bracelets lent a kind of symmetry to her
entire body that I found most pleasing to the eye, and the bondage
applications would be only limited by our imaginations.  The two
bracelets slid around easily on her wrist, and I tried to get them off
over her soapy hands, but I saw that they were too small to even begin
to go over them.  After we'd washed, I dried her off and looked closer
at the two rings of steel.  There was no way to tell where the welds
had been made.

We got dressed and went out to a restaurant down the street for a
snack.  I had a coffee, Sam ordered a glass of milk, and we had a few
flaky pastries to go along with it.  That night in bed, I locked the
bracelets together in front of her and Sam slept that way, her hands
stuck together and upon my chest as I held her warm body close to me.

We had to fly to Atlanta to get a connecting flight back home.  With
delays and the time change, it took most of the day to reach Toronto.
There, the weather was rainy, grey and cold, but no amount of
aggravation could dampen our spirits after such a wonderful honeymoon
as we'd just had.  The hustle and the traffic on the drive home was now
a novelty to me, something I'd almost gotten to miss over the past
couple weeks.

At home, a ton of messages and e-mails awaited me.  They'd wait until
tomorrow.  I did however phone Mike to let him know we were back, and
to find out about Lisa.

"We let her out last week," Mike said to me, Samantha listening in on
the extension, "Thirty nine days."  I heard Sam's intake of breath.
"She was in really rough shape, but she's doing OK now.  How'd you two
make out?"

I told Mike a little about the wedding, and our trip to paradise.  I
invited him and the girls over for dinner the next day.  "I'll do a
roast on the barbie, no big deal," I said.  "You'll hear about the
trip, and Sam wants to have a chat with Lisa, I'm sure."

"Great," Mike said.  "See you then."

It was around the middle of the afternoon the next day, and I saw
Mike's Jag turn into my driveway and park beside the house.  Sam and I
greeted him and his two lovely companions at the door.  I could see our
friend's eyes briefly flicker over Samantha's new bracelets, then
return for slightly longer looks.  Mike took her hands in his to greet
her with a kiss and I noticed one bracelet slip down her arm and bump
against his fingers.  He looked again at it, but made no mention.  Our
guests seated themselves in our kitchen and drinks were passed around.
Liselle was the one to take Sam's hands and look closer at her two
bracelets.  Mike then asked, and we told them about Samantha's new
permanent jewellery and the story of how she came to get them.  Both
Mike and his two girls were quite taken with the whole idea and I ended
up giving Mike the phone number for Billy Brown's welding shop.

"Old Billy's quite the character," I warned Mike, "and I'm sure he'd
get a kick out of doing something for these two beauties of yours."

We chatted about our trip and the wedding, Mike and the girls told us
about Lisa's time in the cage.  I popped outside from time to time to
check on the roast beef cooking on the barbecue.  "Lisa wanted to stay
in longer," Mike told us, "she was totally out of her mind at the end.
She couldn't talk from having that gag down her throat for so long, she
couldn't even think straight.  We started to get her out of there and
she really got agitated about it.  Being in there was all she'd known
after all that time, and she didn't want anything else but to be left
alone inside that cage.  Liselle and I got the two cocks out of her and
we loosened all the restraints.  Then we had to leave her alone for a
while.

"Once Lisa's restraints were loose, she had to start moving to support
herself, and that's when she started feeling it.  All her muscles had
gotten weak from not being used for so long and she started screaming
from all the pain she was in.  I tell you, Jim, it wasn't a pretty
scene.  Liselle went in to try to help her and I was getting kinda
worried, but eventually she got herself a bit more under control and we
got her out of the thing.

"I carried her upstairs and put her to bed.  She'd lost weight and she
looked really bad.  She had marks on her from the shackles and from
where the parts of the cage had pressed on her.  Her wrists and ankles
had sores on them from rubbing inside the shackles and her knees had
sores from the rug she'd been kneeling on.  Her pussy was raw from the
dildo there, and her throat was raw from the one in her mouth.  She
slept for a few hours, and then Liselle came down to get me.  Lisa,
tell these people what you told me that night."

"It was the most incredible experience of my life," she said, "being
trapped inside that cage for so long."

Lisa didn't elaborate at first, and Mike gently prompted her.  "Tell
Samantha about how it made you feel, being in there."

In a quiet, sometimes shaky voice, Lisa spoke.  "The first couple days
were fun," she said.  "I felt safe and warm inside the cage.  Liselle
was there, and Master would come to see me, to touch me in there.  I
could move a bit and the dildos would give me pleasure.  Sometimes I'd
get an itch, or something would start to hurt.  I'd move around to try
to get some relief and the dildos were always there, inside me,
stroking me.  Something would be itchy and I'd twist and move but I
couldn't reach it and I'd pull harder and I'd shift around as much as I
could.  I'd start to shake myself and there was nothing I could do
about the itch, nothing I could do.  I'd start cumming and I'd rock
back onto the cock and I'd cum again.  I'd cum...

"Later on, things didn't hurt so much but I couldn't shit too well with
the big dildo in my pussy.  Sister would hold the pan and I'd try, but
I couldn't, and then later on it would come.  Master wouldn't allow the
rear cock to come out, only the one in front, so I could eat.  I didn't
want sister to have to clean my mess all the time, and when she'd come
to feed me, I could stretch forward a bit more and I'd try to shit
then.  I couldn't get the cock all the way out of my pussy, but I could
go a bit easier, so it was better.

"Some time later you came, Miss Samantha, you came to visit me and it
made me happy to see you.  I remembered that you touched me inside the
cage and it made me feel very good, since sister had been warned many
times by Master that I should be left alone in there and not be touched
and stroked like you did to me.  But then you had to leave when Master
saw and got angry with us.  Sister fed me my dinner and then put the
dildo back into my mouth, and I was left all alone after, just a lonely
little slave girl and the hard steel that held me so tightly inside the
cage.

"It was starting to be not so much fun anymore then.  Master would come
and touch me and say what a good girl I was, but then he'd go away and
I'd be all alone in the big empty, silent room.  Just me and the little
steel cage around me.  The two dildos weren't making me feel good
anymore and I couldn't get the one inside my mouth out and I couldn't
get the other one out of my pussy.  I'd try to turn my head and push
backwards to get the rubber cock out of my mouth but the chain would
dig into my neck and I couldn't move back far enough or twist my head
enough to get it out.  Then I'd have to move forwards again and it
would push deep into my mouth and go down my throat a little.

"Master left for a week and he'd told sister not to bother me except
for mealtimes which were twice a day.  I began to get very sad then
because I was left alone for such a long time then, just me and the
hard steel around me.  Just a sad little girl locked up tight inside a
cage.  I just lay there stuck, hanging inside there for long, lonely
times.  I didn't hurt anymore, I couldn't feel myself much at all.
Just the two cocks inside me, rubbing me every time I moved a little
bit.  I would squeeze them, first the one in my mouth and then the one
behind me.  Then again, and again.  Faster and faster until I started
to cum.  I'd cum and cum, I guess until I fell asleep because I'd cum
so many times.

"Master came back from his trip and he told me that I'd beaten the
record, but I didn't understand what he meant by it.  Master and sister
had their supper with me that day, downstairs beside my cage.  Master
fed me my food and I ate from His hand.  Later on, He touched me and He
made me cum three times.

"I had become a part of the cage that surrounded me, the cage that held
me so tightly.  We were one.  But then they started to take away the
cage that had been with me for so long; they, Master and sister, began
to take me away from my cage.  I started to feel pain again as the cage
that had become part of me was loosened and I began to fall down, since
it no longer held me tightly embraced anymore.  Master later said that
I acted very badly then, and I apologized to Him for it, but at the
time I didn't know what was happening to me, only that my cage wasn't
making me feel good anymore, only hurting me.

"I'd been inside the cage for thirty nine days."

I was hoping that the roast hadn't caught fire, but I couldn't leave
the room while Lisa was speaking.  Over a month, locked into a tight
little cage, how could anyone stand something like that?  Samantha had
hung on Lisa's every word, and I could see in her eyes that she
understood exactly how Lisa could have stood being held immobile for so
long inside the thing.  And Mike too had such a look of fierce pride
over his girl surviving her ordeal so well.  There was little question
that Sam wanted to try some time in the cage, and I hoped that we could
do it before our baby growing inside her got too big, making it
impossible for her withstand it.  She was determined to try Mike's cage
for herself, but she was also worried about the baby, about if it would
cause problems if she was locked inside the cage for a while.  We
talked about it in bed, later on that night.

Samantha's belly was beginning to get a bit bigger, and whether it was
because of her pregnancy, or all the great food we'd stuffed ourselves
with on our week in the Bahamas, I was unsure.  I stroked the little
soft bump of her tummy with my hand.  Samantha's hands were behind her
back, her bracelets locked together behind her.  I'd attached the end
of a long chain to the lock on her bracelets, the other end was locked
to the headboard of my bed.  Our bed.

"I think we should talk to your doctor," I said, "about what could
happen if you spent a long time in Mike's cage.  He'll probably tell
you not to do it, but at least we'll get some facts and then take it
from there."

"I don't want to do it if it might cause problems for the baby," Sam
told me.

"How long do you think you could stand being in there?"

"I don't know," she answered.  "I'd like to try for as long as I can.
After the baby's born I won't be able to do it."

I thought for a few moments.  "When he's a little older, I could watch
him while mommy goes on a little vacation."

Sam looked at me and smiled.  "Yes, I guess that would work."

I pulled her close in a big hug.  Samantha couldn't hug me back, but
that was OK

"I love you, Samantha."

"I love you too, master."

[End Chapter 4 "The Ad"]       dino@canoemail.com

The Ad  Chapter 5		      (C) Dino June 2000


-= This chapter dedicated in loving memory of a dear friend =-
-=       Taken from us, far, far, before her time.	  =-
-=				   For: M		 =-


The next several months after our wedding were busy ones for Samantha
and I.  No steady work had materialized for me but I did have some
income come in from creating web sites for several different clients;
companies and shops in nearby towns.  Samantha's artistic talents
helped me out immensely in creating the pages; her ideas and input made
the sites come alive in a way I'd never been able to manage with my
rather limited talent.

I also filled my free time taking a couple of courses to keep my
computer skills up to date; a course on network applications and
another on web page coding.  Samantha took a course in computer arts,
making her even more helpful with my work.

We had a quiet Christmas, just me and Sam at home, good food, sitting
by the fireplace cuddling.  Long lazy hours having sex in bed, sex
downstairs, upstairs.  Us talking afterwards about how things would be
after the baby's born.  It snowed like a bastard the day before
Christmas, and the next day we took a drive up north.  The roads were
ploughed; the fields and trees were just gorgeous, covered in clean,
fluffy, white snow.  We found a lovely country inn to have a delicious
lunch at, then drove around the countryside and back home.

In mid January, I drove Sam into the city for her ultrasound.  Sam's
belly was visibly getting bigger now, with her pregnancy four months
along.  Seeing our tiny child nestled snug inside her tummy brought the
fact of our baby to life for us.  The child's misshapen head and tiny
little hands, plainly visible up there on the screen of the machine.
Its little heart beating rhythmically, pumping life throughout its tiny
body.  Such an awesome sight.

While standing outside the washrooms, waiting for Samantha, my former
boss at the hospital buttonholed me in the hallway.  After a few
pleasantries, he explained that the government was cutting the purse
strings and increasing funding to the hospital.

"I was against letting you go last year," he told me.  "But things were
looking bleak back then.  With the new funding coming in, we're
planning to upgrade some of the systems, and I was hoping you'd be
available to help out.  No one knows the computer system here better
than you do."

"Well thanks, Nigel," I said.  "I've had a lot of work since I left
here, but nothing steady.  I'm finishing up some projects this week,
and have another I have to get done by the end of the month, but after
that I could be available."

Sam came out of the can and I introduced her to Nigel, a big scary
looking black dude from Jamaica.  If he came up to you in a dark alley,
you'd run the other way.  But once you knew him, you found he was
gentle as a kitten with a heart of pure gold.  I told Sam that Nigel
thought that he might be able to get me my old job back.

"It will just be for six months to start," he cautioned.  "After that,
we'll have to see if the funding continues."

"I'll keep my schedule flexible for the next few weeks," I said.  "Give
me a call if the job pans out."

Six months would take us past the end of Sam's pregnancy.  With time
off for good behaviour, I could be around to help her with the new
baby.

Nigel called me a couple days later to offer me my old job back, and
with a healthy pay increase as well.  Our two-month-long honeymoon was
abruptly ending, and it was time to face the reality of getting out of
bed, going to work, and having money to pay the bills.  That week, Sam
and I celebrated, by planning a wild scene together.

Samantha hadn't had a whipping since our canoe trip in the fall, the
trip that had gone so well she ended up pregnant from it.  She'd been
dropping subtle hints over the past couple of weeks.  I could tell she
didn't want to seem like she was pressuring me to do it, but it was
obvious to me that she wanted me to take her in some way, like those
times back in the woods that she and I had enjoyed so immensely.  I'd
sometimes playfully spank her bum with my hand, but we'd not really
done any serious business with whips and such since then.

Sam had been quite a handful that last time, even though she'd been
hanging by one foot from a tree.  I'd gotten a bit carried away with
the scene myself, and I'd had regrets over being so hard on her.  That
she'd had no regrets afterwards was beside the point; with our baby
growing inside her tummy, I wasn't about to let things get out of hand.
I needed some professional advice, so in the evening I called Mike.

As I expected he would, Mike offered several suggestions on how to make
the weekend special for Sam and myself.  That night in bed, I talked
about it with her.  Samantha's bracelets were locked together behind
her back - much to my amazement, she had gotten used to sleeping like
that.  The two steel rings Billy had made for her were small enough
around her wrists that they didn't dig into her spine when she lay on
her back.  I'd locked her hands behind her for the first few nights
after she had them put on, and she'd toss and turn all night until I
let her go.  I never really expected her to take to it, but one night
she fell asleep like that.

She woke up early the next morning with her bracelets still locked
together behind her back.  I was wakened by her kneeling over my hips
with my morning erection up inside her warm pussy, and she smiled at
me, bringing her hands to her side to show me them still held together
by the shiny rings of steel and the lock I'd put on them the night
before.  The next night, and almost every night since, Sam would want
me to lock her hands behind her at night before we went to bed.
Sometimes I'd hear her shifting around for a while, but she'd always
manage to fall asleep like that, and usually sleep soundly for the
whole night.

"Mike told me that his two girls would be pleased to help out this
weekend," I said.  "How do you feel about that?  Would you mind if the
twins played around with you a bit?  Lisa is the more submissive of the
two, but Mike said she can give as well as she takes.  He said Liselle
is every bit as skilled with the whip as he is."

Having someone else do the work would leave me out of it, so I wouldn't
have to worry about going too far with Sam.  I could monitor the
situation from the sidelines and make sure it didn't get out of hand.
From seeing the way Sam was with the twins last time when Lisa was in
the cage, I thought she might be open to the idea of having one, or
both of them around.  Watching Mike's two lovelies torture my
sweetheart would be a treat for me too.

Sam's head was on my shoulder, and I felt her heat up, then begin to
melt.  If she had any qualms about being with another woman in that
way, I would never try to pressure her into it.

"I'd never ever even thought about touching another woman like that,"
she quietly said.  "But that night at Mike's, with Liselle, and Lisa in
the cage, it was so nasty, so awesome.  Liselle was so sweet to me
downstairs."

"Yes, we heard."

Sam pressed her face to my chest and giggled.  She looked up at me.

I continued.  "I'd rather have another person with us if I'm going to
whip you, Sam.  I don't want anything to happen to you, and there's the
baby to think about, too.  The girls know better than I do what it
feels like for you, and I gather they know better than me how to use a
whip."

Sam was rubbing her leg on me and she was fidgeting with her hands,
pulling against the lock holding her bracelets together and making the
steel tinkle.  She seemed to be warming to the idea of having Mike's
twins come over to play with us.

I had Samantha lay on her back, and I sat up, then I moved around until
I was on my knees before her.  I raised her legs up and I inched closer
to her, spreading my knees on either side of her hips.  Sam stretched
her hands down under her bum to touch my stiffened cock, guiding it
towards her with her finger tips.  I moved a bit closer, then took hold
of myself to slide the tip through her warm and inviting slit.  Parting
her labia rings, I slipped inside her.

Sam lifted her ass to bring her arms together in the small of her back.
She settled down on them, her position making the bulge of her tummy
even more pronounced.  I stroked her legs and thighs, around her
ankles, and massaged her soft little feet while my cock twitched and
grew even larger inside her tight pussy.

I brought my hands down to caress her sides and her tummy.  Sam had
been complaining of late that her breasts were getting sore, so I very
gently stroked the two stiff buds of her nipples with my fingertips.
Her muscles inside her pussy stroked me.  When she began to buck her
hips up to me, I knew she was ready, and I began a slow, teasing
stroking of her vagina with my rock hard cock.

I picked up the pace and it wasn't too long before Samantha threw her
hips up to meet me, grinding her clit against my pubic bone, and her
face contorted as her orgasm took hold.  I wrapped my arms around her
thighs to draw us closer together, and I leaned over her a little to
increase the pressure against her.  Her cum shifted into a higher gear
and she began to writhe and moan loudly, twisting herself against me,
grinding her clit against me.  I held on and let her ride it out, then
I relaxed my grip on her legs and began to pump harder into her.

I pounded right through Sam's next orgasm, feeling her body get all
tense and her pussy clamp down hard on my cock.  I had to slow my
strokes a bit until she was done, then I banged her hard and fast as I
felt my own cum begin to boil deep within me.  Sam was screaming now,
but not from any pain.  She gave voice to her wanton lust as the first
jet of my sperm blasted loose, deep within her.

Samantha's foot was before my face and I gently nipped the tough skin
of the arch with my teeth.  Another shot of cum poured into her as I
fought to keep my breathing even.  Again and again I felt my balls
contract as my cum shot up into the sweet creature beneath me.  My head
started to spin and I toppled over sideways onto the bed, taking Sam
along with me, us still joined together with my cock spasming inside
her velvety smooth pussy.

I rolled right over onto my back, pulling Samantha over too, and she
stretched out her legs and settled on top with my cock still twitching
inside of her.  We blew our hot breaths into each other's faces.  I got
my hand up to brush her hair off her face, then I locked lips with her
in a long, sloppy kiss.

Sam was desperate to use the toilet, so I took the lock off her
bracelets to let her go.  She must have finished up quickly, because I
was still awake when she returned.  She handed me her lock, then turned
around and put her hands behind her.  I slipped the lock through her
two bracelets and clicked it closed.  Sam snuggled in my armpit with
her back towards me, her hands gently stroking my thigh as my hand
caressed the bulge of her belly.  We both drifted off to sleep.

Samantha was sobbing softly when I woke the next morning, her tear
streaked face pressed against my shoulder.  I brushed her hair off her
face with my fingers and held her close to try to comfort her.  Of all
the symptoms of pregnancy, her sometimes violent mood swings were the
most distressing to me.  The throwing up I could handle, aches and
pains could be soothed with gentle rubbing, but her demeanour would
sometimes shift from happy to downright mean in a blink of an eye.  I
stroked her head and down her arms to her bracelets, still locked
together behind her back.  It was a while before she calmed down enough
to tell me what was wrong.

"I had a dream," she said, "I was a fish swimming in the ocean.
Suddenly a bigger fish was chasing me and I had to swim fast to escape
from him.  But then I swam right into a big net and I was caught up in
it.  The net wrapped tightly around me and I was being hauled up
towards a boat on the surface.  I pulled and struggled but the net just
kept getting tighter all around me.  That's when I woke up."

Sam's belly was pressed against mine and I felt something slither
between us.  We both looked down, expecting to see something there.  I
brought my hand down to touch her.

"Did you feel that?" I asked her.

The baby moved again against my hand, something slimy shifting around
inside of Samantha.

"There it is again," she said.  Sam looked up at me.  "I really have to
go pee."

I slid the key into her lock and took it off her bracelets.  I helped
to steady her as she sat up and then she stood and went off to the
bathroom.  I was up and had the coffee on by the time she joined me in
the kitchen.  Coffee for me, tea for Sam, since lately she couldn't
even stand the smell of coffee anymore.  Sam sat down and I gave her a
glass of juice, her vitamin pill, a cup of tea, bowing and scraping as
I placed the items before her.

"Your juice, Madam.  Your tea, Madam."

That routine always made her smile.  While I made us some pancakes,
we discussed the plan for the weekend.

We'd picked up a few books from the library, the "So You're Going to
have a Baby" kind of books.  The third trimester, four to six months,
was referred to as the "quiet time."  The little bundle of cells that
would become our child had established itself safely inside the uterus
at this point, had settled in, and was doing well.  Sam's nausea had
passed, to be replaced by other aches and pains as her body adjusted to
its new status.  However, the baby at this stage was becoming a life
form now, and better able to cope with external stresses that may
invade the sanctity of its snug abode.  Stress that might be caused
from, say, mom being tied to the rack and flogged without mercy?

"The main reason I'd like Mike's girls over," I stated, "is so I can
keep my wits about me and make sure you're O.K.  Any sign of distress
from you, and one of us will see it and slow things down.  If you
really get into trouble, I want to end it right then; I could never
have anything happen to you or our child."

Samantha blew up.  "You just want to get an eyeful of the two pretty
twins!" she said, then began sobbing loudly.

I stood at the stove for a moment, watching the pancakes bubble.  I
shifted the pan to a cold element, a little loudly.  Sam actually
cringed when I walked towards her.  I knelt beside her chair.

"Sam, that's not fair," I softly said.  "You know you're all the woman
I'll ever want.  Sure, I'd enjoy watching a scene with three pretty
girls going at it; what man with a heartbeat wouldn't.  Nothing's going
to go on between Mike's girls and me; I'd just rather have someone else
around when we do this, that's all.  Just to make certain nothing goes
wrong."

"What about if Mike comes over to help instead," she snarled.

I stood up and moved back to the stove.  "Mike told me he's busy with a
client this weekend.  We can wait till next week and see if he's free."

Sam was quiet until I had the breakfast on the table and I sat down.
She looked at me with those big sheepish pale blue eyes of hers, and I
saw that her mood had swung back to that of Sam the sweet subbie girl.

"I'm sorry, Jim," she said.  "I don't know what comes over me
sometimes.  I know you love me and only want what's best for the baby
and me.  And I would like to have Lisa and Liselle with us this
weekend."

"It's all right, Samantha.  You're pregnant and your hormones are all
out of whack.  I don't blame you for getting upset at times."

Sam flashed me a smile and everything was O.K.

"But I am going to have to punish you for speaking to me in an
unbecoming manner," I stated.

This was Friday and I'd start work at the hospital on Monday.  Our last
three days together, since I expected my new job would eat up a lot of
my time.  At least for the next few months, until things settled down.
After breakfast was over, I had Samantha wash the dishes, and I ordered
her to strip and meet me in the basement.

The rec room downstairs is a nice big area with a washroom off to one
side.  A strong steel pole in the centre of the room holds up the
house.  Normally one would build the room to conceal such a post, or at
least arrange the furniture around it in some way.  The post was
central to the room the way I'd done it, a somewhat unusual focal point
for the chairs and couches in the area.  A rather ugly thing to be
looking at, unless of course, a pretty and naked girl was tied to it.

Last week I'd picked up thirty feet of chain, not really heavy chain,
but strong enough.  I attached one end around the centre pole with a
lock.  When Samantha came down, I attached the other end of the chain
around her right ankle with another lock.  The keys were up in our
bedroom.  I had her walk to the bathroom to make sure the chain was
long enough for her to reach.  It was.  Then I left her down there to
go and call Mike.

Mike was keyed up, I could tell.  "I had a long talk," he said, "with
your buddy Billy in Oklahoma.  He's all set to do two collars for the
girls."

"Great," I said.  "I'm sure he'll get a kick out of seeing the twins."

"What I had in mind, he seemed a bit reluctant to do, until I told him
money was no object.  He's got a friend who'll do the gold inlay for
him."

"Gold?"

"You'll see," Mike told me.  "How's Samantha?"

"She's downstairs, but she's kinda tied up at the moment.  Can the
girls join us tomorrow night?"

"The twins are eager to come over to play.  I've got the gig out of
town this weekend, so they'll just be stuck here alone anyway."

"I'll swing by after dinner Saturday to pick them up.  O.K.?"

"Super!  Catch you later."

"Bye Mike.  And thanks."

I went downstairs to give Sam the news.  She was sitting on the couch,
fiddling with the chain locked around her ankle, and she looked up at
me.  I told her the twins would be over tomorrow evening to play.

"How long am I going to be chained up here?" Sam asked.

"Until I let you go, I guess.  I've got some work to do upstairs, so
relax, watch some T.V.  I'll bring lunch down later."

I left my pretty wife chained to a pole in the basement, and went to
finish the website I'd been working on.  I only had to run through the
files one more time, and I found a couple things that needed fixing,
then I sent them out and made us lunch.  I heated up a can of soup,
made a few sandwiches, got a lock from the bedroom, then carried it all
downstairs on a tray.

Samantha was curled up on the sofa watching a talk show.  She'd found
an old blanket to cover herself with, and she was holding a small
pillow in her arms, cradling it like a little girl would hold a
favourite stuffed toy.  The chain led from her ankle, across the couch
and along the floor to the end, locked to the steel pole.  She looked
so sweet.

I set the tray down on the heavy coffee table in front of the couch.  I
picked up Sam's lock, had her put her hands behind her, then I locked
her two bracelets together.  It took quite a while to finish our lunch
with me having to spoon feed Sam her soup and hold her sandwich for
her, but we managed.  She went to the toilet and I washed her face for
her, then we just cuddled on the couch for a while.

"Master?"

"Yes, Sam?"

"How long am I going to be chained up to this pole?"

"For two nights, tonight and tomorrow, after we beat you.  If you're
good, I'll let you sleep in my bed Sunday night."

So sweet.  Samantha snuggled closer to me.  I held her.  We spent a
very relaxing afternoon together in the basement rec room, watching
daytime T.V., holding each other close, touching each other.  Me,
anyway.  Sam's hands remained locked behind her.  I clicked around the
channels, finally settling on some travel show while Samantha dozed
off.  Her hair felt so soft beneath my hand as I tenderly stroked her
belly.

Sam began to twitch, then she kicked out her foot, making the chain
rattle.  She woke with a jerk and a shout, making me jump too.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She looked around, seeing only familiar surroundings.  "I had such a
weird dream," she said.  "I was stuck in a cage like Mike has, only
smaller and I was all squashed up inside.  The room was filled with
water, but I could breath through a tube in my mouth.  Somebody opened
the drain and all the water ran out.  Then there I was, dripping wet,
waiting for someone to let me out.  I spit out the air tube and I
waited.

"Suddenly the water came back and filled the room up.  I couldn't reach
the air tube and I couldn't get it in my mouth again.  I pulled and
struggled, but I couldn't get my arm around to reach the tube that
bubbled inches away from my face.  And that's when I woke up."

Junior had woken up too and I felt him stretch, imagined him yawning,
looking around.  Weird dreams, another side effect of pregnancy.  Sam
had been having her share of them lately, often with her stuck or
trapped in some perilous way.  I held her near me, whispered soothing
sounds into her ear.  Baby had nodded off again and I softly stroked
Sam's little bump of her tummy.

We had pizza and cans of Coke for supper, and I moved Sam's lock so her
hands were locked together in front of her to let her eat.  We watched
a movie on T.V. called The Man in The Attic.  An eighteen-year-old boy
falls in love with a middle aged, married woman who keeps him as a
lover in the attic of her home.  Her older husband never suspects a
thing for fourteen years, until one day they have a fight and the lover
comes down, there's a confrontation, and the old man gets shot.

The woman was the dominant, and the lover cooked and cleaned for the
couple, the husband thinking it was his wife doing all the cooking.  In
one scene, the woman tells the young man, "If you don't like it, get
out!"  He stomps down the attic stairs, but at the bottom pauses, then
meekly climbs back up to kiss mistress's bare feet.  In the end, the
police catch on, but the statute of limitations on the murder had run
out and the two got off scott free.

"If I wasn't chained up in the basement, I could cook your meals," Sam
said after the movie was over.

"Would you rather be chained to the refrigerator?"

"No, silly.  You don't have to chain me at all.  I'm not going to run
away."

"But I like having you chained up," I said.  "Besides, you're being
punished for being mouthy to me this morning."

I left Sam chained in the basement when I went up to bed.  We hadn't
slept apart one night since she'd moved in with me a month before we
married, and I couldn't get to sleep with her not being in bed beside
me.  Finally, I went downstairs to cuddle beside her on the couch.  She
wasn't sleeping either, and we both tossed and turned for some time.

"I can't sleep," Sam said.  "Could you lock my hands behind me,
master?"

I had taken the lock off her bracelets before I'd left her, and locked
it to her ankle chain.

"No, Sam.  Punishment."

I was on my back; she was laying on top of me on the narrow couch.

"Let's go upstairs to the bed," she suggested.  "You can lock the chain
to the bed frame."

"You have to stay here," I said.  "Punishment."

"But you're not sleeping either.  Why are you sharing my punishment?"

I had to think about that for a while.  Why indeed?  Why does Sam want
me to inflict pain upon her, why does she want me to whip her?  I
wanted her to be chained to the post in the basement for the whole
weekend.  Why?  Why are people like Samantha and I, and so many others
it seemed, driven to do the things we do, totally illogical things,
that give us such intense pleasure.

Such intense pleasure.  It is what we crave, what drives us, the thrill
of it, doing something so bizarre, so nasty almost.  We had taken big
chances on that last canoe trip.  Chaining Sam up and dragging her off
into the wilderness with no hope of escaping the chains that bound her,
a million things could have gone terribly wrong.  But didn't.  The
whole episode, nearly two solid weeks, had gone so well.  Such an
intensely pleasurable time for the both of us.

I was feeling it now, Sam was too.  She was squirming on me, her other
foot moving around, feeling the chain locked around her ankle.  Running
the links between her toes.  She knew she'd remain chained to the pole
in the basement for the weekend, and tomorrow night I'd go pick up the
twins, bring them back, and Sam would receive a whipping from one, or
both of them.  The idea was turning her on, and me as well.  It didn't
have to make sense, but it was what we would do, and it was certain to
be intensely pleasurable for all concerned.

I brought my hands up to brush the hair off her face, letting the silky
strands slide through my fingers as I ran my hands down her back to her
bum.  My hands, on those two fleshy globes of her lovely ass.  I
pressed her to me.  Sam kissed me softly on the lips, feather soft.
Then again, a little longer, a little more forcefully.  Her hands held
my head, I brought my hands up to hold her head, and our lips locked
together in a deeply passionate kiss.  Our tongues danced together
inside Samantha's sweet mouth.

We exchanged places, her on her back on the sofa, me on top.  I was
mindful not to crush her tummy as I slipped my stiffened cock into her.
My heartbeat pounded in my chest, making my cock pulse, enveloped in
her slippery smooth vagina.  I pulled out all the way to rub the head
over her clitty a few times, then plunged it back into the depths of my
beautiful wife.

Sam brought her feet up around my waist dragging her chain across my
back.  I pulled up some of its length, then wound the chain around her
wrists a few times.  I held the chain closed with one hand, trapping
her hands together between us.  The chain links and her bracelets
tinkled together, and that delightful sound drove me onwards.

My knees having sunk down between the cushions of the couch made my
angle of entry nearly optimum, and so I pumped hard into Samantha.  I
was holding her tightly with the chain around her wrists and my other
arm alongside her waist.  I wasn't pressing down on her, so she wasn't
getting squished, and it was comfortable for me as well.  The lock and
chain on her ankle was digging into my back, creating enough of a
distraction that it enabled me to last quite a long time.

Sam had three quick orgasms, one after another, as I slowed my strokes
and watched her face contort, felt her body undulate beneath me.  I
paused, bent low, and kissed her.  Letting my cock slip out I guided it
to her, stroking her clit with the tip, a finger touching her rings.

"I love you, Sam," I whispered to her, "more than anything.  You're
mine Samantha, mine for all time."

"You are my Master," she answered, "my all.  I am yours, forever."

I guided myself to her centre, pushed inside once more.  Samantha
raised her hips up to me and I began to give it to her, fast and hard,
banging myself against her, heedless of anything except for myself, and
the sweet, chained creature beneath me.  Sam came again, a forceful cum
that gripped her tightly, held her in its power for long moments.  Her
voice low and throaty, crying out in the night in the quiet stillness
of the basement room.

A little fire burning at my centre suddenly flared to brightness,
blinding me.  The muscles of my arms and thighs, the burn from my
exertions, forgotten.  The power built to an incredible level, and held
for several moments.  My frenzied motions slowed as I rode the crest
for a time, just me and Samantha, out there, somewhere.

The field began to collapse drawing me up tightly.  Then my yell
deafened us both, as my very being was turned inside out, flooding into
my lovely Samantha in a great, gushing torrent.

Later.  I could feel the fishy creature swimming around, nosing the
sides of his tank, or her tank.  Sam's last ultrasound was early on and
the sex of our child was indeterminate.  I could imagine him staring at
me through the glass of the tank, through the skin of Sam's belly.
"What a rush, daddy, can we go on the ride again?"  "Soon, little one,
soon.  Daddy's all tired out right now.  Mommy too."

I pried myself off Sam and she toddled off to the can.  The blanket
under us was soaked, but I found us another.  I spread all the cushions
from sofas and chairs on the floor, made us a bed.  Sam came back,
dragging her chain, and lay herself close beside me.  We slept away
most of Saturday morning.

I discovered the flaw in my plans; there was no shower in the bathroom
in the basement, just a sink and toilet.  Sam looked bedraggled and she
smelled like sex.  I wanted her fresh and clean for the evening, so I
had to unlock her chain from the pole to let her go upstairs and take a
bath.  Sam gathered up the length of chain that I'd left locked around
her ankle and went upstairs.  I made us something to eat.

I let Samantha take a nice long soak in the tub, and had her wash and
condition her hair.  After she'd finished in the bath, I had her return
to the basement where I re-attached her chain to the steel post in the
centre of the room.  The basement was a little chilly, and I started
the wood stove in the corner to warm things up and drive off the
dampness.  Sam spent a long time running her hairbrush through her hair
until it shimmered and moved fetchingly around her body when she
walked.  She smiled a radiant smile at me.

I went out to pick up a few groceries and stuff while Sam had a nap.
Outside was cold and blowing snow, so I hurried through my errands to
get back to the warmth of my sweet Samantha.  I returned to the house
and fixed her some tea with a plate of biscuits, carried them down to
her, and sat with her for a while.  I added a log to the wood stove.

"Are you going to tie me to the coffee table for my whipping?" Sam
asked.

"The baby will get squashed if you're laying on your tummy," I told
her.  "Maybe the girls will have a better idea."

"What are they going to hit me with?  A whip?"

"I don't know.  We'll see."

"Who's going to do it, Lisa or Liselle?"

"Shhh," I softly cooed.  "No more questions, little one, we'll see what
happens.  I'm going to make some dinner for us, then I'll go and pick
up the twins.  O.K.?"

Sam looked downward.  "Yes, master," she said.

I made us a light dinner of salad and a vegetable stir-fry with some
bits of chicken cooked in it, and fresh bread to go along with it.  I
dutifully carried her highness' dinner down to her.  Why was I doing
all the work while my slave lounges in her chamber?  Why?  Because
she's chained to a pole.  Doesn't make sense, does it?  Later on,
she'll get to cum a dozen times while I, I'll get to sit and
watch...Whoopee.

After we'd eaten I brought up the dishes and cleaned up, then I went
back down to Samantha with a glass of juice.

"I'm going to pick up Lisa and Liselle now," I said.  "Do you need
anything before I go?"

"No, I'm O.K.  Hurry back?"

"I will."

I bent to kiss her softly on her forehead, and I stroked her head.  I
made sure the fire was O.K. and added some wood.  Then I went upstairs,
threw on a coat, went outside to get in the Jeep, and drove off into
the snow storm leaving Samantha chained to a pole in the basement.

It's a good forty-five minutes from my place to Mike's.  I rang the
bell, and was greeted by the two lovely twins wearing scanty leather
harness outfits.  Thin black straps encircled their breasts with a wide
belt around their middles and another leather belt going down, between
their legs, then up the back to join with the waist belt.  Shiny silver
buckles adorned the outfits in the usual places.

I was beginning to be able to spot the subtle differences between the
two.  Apart from their voices, in which Liselle's was just a slightly
lower pitch, Liselle was built a tiny bit more solidly than her sister
was.  Lisa's dark leather collar had her name engraved on a silver
plate on her left side; Liselle's was on the right.  Lisa wore two wide
leather cuffs around her wrists.  The girls pulled snow boots over
their bare feet and they put on long, black fur coats over their
outfits, then Liselle picked up a gym bag beside the door.

"Have you girls eaten?" I asked.

"Yes, Sir," answered Liselle.  "We're ready to go."

"Good."

On the drive home, I asked Liselle if they had anything in mind for
Samantha.  She grinned and opened the bag at her feet to show me a
matching set of cuffs to those that Lisa wore, some ropes, bits of
chain with a few loose locks and snap ring fasteners, a nasty looking
flogger, and a wicked looking whip.  Also, a bottle of fine white wine,
for later.

"Lisa hasn't had a whipping for some time now," Liselle said to me,
"Master suggested I do her and Miss Samantha at the same time."

I began to smile, for the first time since morning.  I'd been having
some serious doubts about this whole thing with Samantha and the twins,
the whole whipping idea, in fact.  The image began to form in my mind.
I glanced in the mirror and saw Lisa's wide, expectant eyes staring
back at me.  The lovely Lisa, and my beautiful Samantha.  Hanging
together from the ceiling, and Liselle standing over them with her
whip.

"There's a couple strong hooks in the ceiling downstairs," I said,
"about two feet apart.  Is that what you had in mind?"

"Yes, Sir," Liselle said.  "That should do just fine."

I asked to see the flogger that Liselle had brought.  Eight strips of
the finest calfskin leather, butter soft and very supple.  I switched
on the interior lights to look the thing over as I drove.  The flogger
had obvious signs of being rather old and well used.

"It's a very nice piece, Sir," Liselle offered.  "It doesn't leave
really bad markings and the feeling is..."

"Exquisite..." a dreamy voice from the back seat.  "Sir."

"Excellent."  My grin spread wider.

We arrived at the house and went inside.  The girls took off their
coats and I hung them in the closet as they sat on the bench in the
hall to remove their boots.  I told them both to go downstairs while I
went to change.  In the bedroom, I stripped off, then I put on a pair
of black cotton shorts and a little black leather vest.  I picked up
the keys to Sam's locks, slipped them in a pocket, then went down to
see the girls.

The three beauties were cuddled in a ball on the couch, touching each
other, the twins fawning over Samantha's little bulge of her tummy.
Sam looked up as I entered, her smile quickly replaced by an almost
guilty look.  I went to the wood stove and tossed a log in.  Liselle
retrieved the wine from her bag to hand it to me, and I put it into the
fridge in the bar to keep it chilled.  I turned on some of the track
lights, then crossed to stand near the centre of the room by the pole.
I looked upwards.

A rather ugly wagon wheel light fixture hung over my head, hooked to an
ordinary looking steel ring in the ceiling.  The wire and a chain
draped across to another ring, then the wire continued over to a plug
set into the ceiling near the centre pole.  I reached up and yanked the
cord to unplug it.  Stretching my arm up, I unhooked the chain from one
ring, then holding the light fixture, I unhooked it from the other
ring.  I carried it to the side of the room and set it on the floor.
Sam looked at me, then at the two rings sticking out from the ceiling.

I went to a big easy chair with a good view and sat down.

"Sam," I said, "if you need to use the washroom, you'd best go now."

Samantha left the twins to walk to the washroom, the long chain locked
around her ankle dragging behind her.  Liselle moved closer to her
sister, took her hands in hers, and looked deep into Lisa's eyes.  No
words were exchanged between the two girls; none were necessary.

In a few moments, Samantha returned to stand before the twins.  Liselle
got the other set of cuffs and handed them to Lisa, who began to put
them on Samantha's wrists.  She pushed Sam's bracelets up her arms a
little, then buckled the cuffs on her.  Liselle handed Lisa two short
chains and two locks.  The cuffs were locked on with the pieces of
chain dangling.  Then Liselle stood up with a snap ring in her hand,
the good kind used by mountain climbers, and she moved Samantha under
one ring.  Using a wooden chair to stand on, she attached the two
chains to one of the rings in the ceiling with the snap fastener.

The chains were long enough so Samantha wasn't stretched out.  Her arms
were bent a bit with her elbows just above her ears.  Liselle turned to
Lisa who was unbuckling the buckles on her outfit.  Liselle helped
remove her sister's garment, placing it on the coffee table near the
couch.  She locked two chains to Lisa's two cuffs, then Lisa took her
place beside Samantha under the other ring in the ceiling.  Liselle
moved the chair over to raise Lisa's arms and attach her the same way
as Samantha to the ring in the ceiling.

Liselle picked up the chair and set it back by the bar, then came to my
side to stand beside my chair.

"Do you wish the captives to be gagged, Sir?" she asked me.

I'd gotten so tensed up watching her, I almost burst out laughing.
That would not have been a good thing for me to have done.

"No," I said.  "Perhaps later on, if they get too loud."

"Very good, Sir."

Liselle went to her bag and found a few hair clips, then moved to the
girls to pin up their hair into buns on top of their heads so it
wouldn't get in the way later on.  Lisa and Samantha were close enough
that they bumped into each other, more often than I thought they really
needed to.  Lisa would inch over a bit so her thighs would touch
Samantha's, and they'd press their tummies together and look into each
other's eyes.  They had to stretch a bit to rub nipples together, and
they did that a few times too, as Liselle worked on pinning their hair
up.  Samantha wasn't being too shy about being so close to another
naked girl.  Anyway, they'd soon be sharing more than just personal
space.

Liselle finished up with the girls' hair and returned to stand beside
my chair.  My eyes were glued to the two lovelies hanging by their
wrists in the centre of the room.  Samantha's eyes were closed and Lisa
was straining to kiss her.  Their legs were intertwined, with Sam's
knee up between Lisa's thighs, her pushing against it.  My hand strayed
up Liselle's leg.  I felt her silky soft upper thigh, the ridge of
muscle on the inside.  I felt it quiver slightly under my touch.  My
focus shifted from the two beauties before me to the one standing at my
side, waiting for the order to begin, I finally realised.

"We'd best begin," I said, withdrawing my hand.  I fished the key from
my pocket to give to Liselle.  "Please remove Samantha's ankle chain."

"Sir," said Liselle.

Liselle went to the girls and bent down.  Sam jumped at the unexpected
touch as Liselle unlocked the chain from her ankle, then she gathered
it up out of the way in a pile beside the pole.  The two pretty
captives' eyes followed Liselle as she moved to the gym bag to withdraw
the flogger.  She shook it out a few times, then began to slash the
air, getting a feel for the swing of the tool inside my basement room.

She tried a few overhand strokes, to find that the room had a serious
height restriction.  Liselle adjusted her stroke to compensate for it.
She moved closer to the girls, then looked towards me.  I gave a tiny
nod, an almost imperceptible smile.  Liselle readied herself.

Lisa stood with her eyes closed, waiting.  Samantha was more agitated,
her eyes fixed on Liselle and that whip in her hand.  Liselle raised
the flogger up to let the soft strands of leather dangle close to Sam's
wide eyes, then feather light, she let them touch first Sam, then Lisa
on the shoulders.  Liselle softly drew the leather over the two girls'
bodies, over their shoulders and around their necks, down their fronts
between them and down their backs, their bums, their legs, to their
feet.  Then back up again.  She gave them gentle flicks of the strands,
the tips barely grazing the girl's skin, then she continued gently
stroking them with the soft leather.  This went on for close to half an
hour and by that time both Sam and Lisa were sagging in their bonds,
completely at peace with the world.

Liselle brought the flogger back, then down smartly across Samantha's
upper back.  Sam's mouth opened in a silent scream as the pain flared
brightly in her brain.  The wood in the wood stove popped loudly; a log
shifted, making the flames behind the glass in the door dance wildly.
Liselle brought the whip around to drill Sam's ass in a wide swath of
stinging fire.

Sam danced while Lisa stood motionless.  Liselle took a step to her
left and slashed the flogger across her sister's ass.  Lisa let out a
shriek, met immediately with another two quick blows across her back.
Samantha next, blows placed perfectly on both thighs and then a firm
uppercut between them, from the back, the ends of the strands harshly
kissing the lower part of Sam's belly.

No parts of the two girls were spared the wrath of Liselle's flogger,
save for Samantha's delicate belly and her already tender breasts,
which even so received a few markings.  Liselle calmly walked the
circle around the two, slashing out, back and forth, wherever a juicy
target appeared, of which, there was no shortage.  She'd pause for long
minutes as the girls twisted and writhed, moving apart or colliding and
huddling close, rubbing themselves against each other.

The first few orgasms were separate ones.  Lisa, or Samantha would
stand stiffly, trembling slightly as the cum would take them, blast
through them.  I was astounded to see how seemingly easily Liselle
found the combination to get the two to orgasm together at the same
instant.  She'd work them up, gauging their progress, then step back as
the two came in a great rush, the force released by one feeding the
other, driving each other's cum ever higher.  Two lovelies shaking and
writhing together in the throws of unbridled passion.

Samantha's legs glistened with her juices, of which there was a copious
puddle on the floor beneath her.  Lisa was damp there too, but less so
than Samantha.  Some women squirt cum; others, not so much.  Liselle
started in on them again, slashing out at the two writhing beauties.
Lisa and Samantha, twisting and shaking with their arms up high, their
wrists fixed to the rings in the ceiling.  I sat spellbound as Liselle
brought them to a peak once more.  The pair were back to back, and she
drove the whip viciously down between them, wrapping both their asses
in a sheet of delicious fiery pain.  The shrieks and loud sobbing moans
echoed around the room as Liselle stepped aside to casually lean
against the pole, her arms crossed in front of her, the strands of the
flogger hanging down at her side.

Samantha and Lisa hung motionless except for when small tremors would
rack their sore, striped bodies.  I looked towards Liselle, who was
calmly leaning against the room's central post, watching her two
victims come down from that last incredible rush.  She gave me a
glance, I nodded to her, and with a slight motion of my hand, she
straightened to move towards where I sat, tossing her flogger over
towards the gym bag as she passed the coffee table.  The flogger landed
on top of the bag, neatly folded.

I stood when Liselle approached to take her hands in mine.  We came
close and I gave her gentle kisses on her cheeks, right, left, and
right.  The European way.

"Bravo, my dear Liselle," I said.  "That was simply beautiful."

Liselle looked down, a bit embarrassed by my praise.  "Thank you, Sir."

I went to Samantha first, seeing her with her eyes shut tight against
the pain she was feeling.  There was a wide grin on her lips and a
satisfied glow about her.  I placed my hand gently on Sam's belly and
she twitched, then opened her eyes.  Sam's eyes had a far away, glazed
look to them, but suddenly her pupils snapped into focus and she saw me
standing near her.  Her grin spread wider as she let out a breath in a
contented, soft, shuddering moan.

Beneath my hand I felt it; our child.  The little fishy frolicking
inside the safe warmth of its tank.  A gentle thump against the side,
and then again.  A slippery rolling movement as the infant shifted
around, exploring the confines of its current home.  Perhaps I was
believing what I wanted to believe, but I truly sensed the child's mind
touch me in some way.  It came as an expression of eagerness to learn
about the wondrous feelings mom was having.

"Liselle, please bring..."

Liselle was already standing beside me with the wooden chair.  I gently
supported Sam while Liselle stood on the chair to undo the snap ring.
Samantha melted into my arms when her hands came down, and I held her
as she gingerly made her way over to the couch.  Sam carefully sat
down, and I went to help with Lisa.

Lisa was alert and seemed more concerned with Samantha's well being
than her own.  Her sister unhooked her from the ring, and she put her
arm around me as I helped her to the couch.  Liselle fetched a dampened
towel from the bathroom to gently blot the sweat and cum from the
girls, then she wiped up the puddle on the floor while I opened and
poured the wine.

We all sipped the delicious wine, which had a hint of sweetness with an
underlying tang that quickly perked us all up.  I made a toast to
Liselle's skills, and to the three lovely ladies in my company; good
friends, good times.  Liselle offered a toast to my lovely Samantha,
and to the little one who'd enter the world in a few months.

The twins took turns feeling Samantha's tummy and the creature stirring
inside.  I placed my hand on her again and felt him, so full of life
now, happy and well, like his mom.  I was sure Sam or I would be able
to tell if the child was in any distress over what his mom had just
been put through, but I felt only good feelings of well being within
the four of us, make that the five of us in the room.

Sam had a small glass of the wine, then asked if I'd make her tea.
Lisa was hesitant to ask, but I gathered she also wished tea, so
upstairs in the kitchen I made a pot.  Some cheese and crackers, some
fruit and some biscuits, the tea and cups, I took it all on a tray back
downstairs.

The three girls were all naked now, with Liselle doffing her nice
looking, but probably uncomfortable as hell, leather harness.  They
were all cuddled together on the couch, touching and stroking each
other.  Sam was in the middle, getting her tummy rubbed by Lisa, her
back rubbed by Liselle, and she looked like she was in Heaven.  I set
the tray down, topped up my wine glass, and poured some for Liselle.  I
pulled the wooden chair up to the table and sat across from the ladies.

Liselle picked up her glass and moved across to her sister.  She knelt
beside Lisa's legs to reach for the teapot, and she poured a cup for
Samantha and one for Lisa.  She handed Lisa hers, then she remained
kneeling on the floor beside Lisa while she sipped her wine.  Liselle's
eyes were on her sister.

I moved around to sit beside my wife.  Sam winced a bit when I touched
her, the markings from the flogger a bright red all over her.  I asked
her how she was.

"I feel wonderful master, thank you for allowing this to happen."

Lisa, as equally striped as Sam was, smiled.  She reached into the gym
bag and found a ring of keys, then took Sam's hands to unlock the
cuffs.  She removed the locks and chains from her own cuffs, leaving
the black leather bands buckled around her wrists, then she looked at
me.

"Sir," she asked, "May my sister and I stay here for a while longer?"

"Of course, stay the night if you wish.  Mike said he won't be back
till late tomorrow.  Sam and I would enjoy your company."

Liselle was still kneeling at her sister's side.  She placed her hand
on Lisa's thigh.  Lisa turned to her with the leather cuffs in her
hand.  I saw Liselle's eyes lower towards the floor.  I felt it, and so
did Samantha.  A sudden shift in the room.  A sudden shift in power.

Liselle took a nervous sip of her wine, then set the glass down.  Now,
no longer Liselle, master of the whip, Liselle the submissive raised
her hands to her sister and allowed Lisa to buckle and lock the leather
cuffs on her.

Lisa stood and picked up the two snap rings from the coffee table.  She
walked around it to take the chair and place it under the two steel
rings sticking out of the ceiling.  Liselle, still kneeling, crawled
over to where Lisa was standing.  Liselle stood up, Lisa got on the
chair, and Liselle raised one hand up to the ring in the ceiling.

Lisa took the chain that dangled from the cuff and lifted it up to the
ring.  She paused a moment, waiting.  She gave the chain a little jerk
upwards.  Liselle rose up on her toes.  Lisa clipped the chain to the
ring with the snap hook, then reached for the other chain.  Liselle
raised her other arm up high, and Lisa fastened the chain to the other
ring in the ceiling.

Liselle settled into the cuffs.  Her heels were about an inch off the
floor with her arms stretched straight up over her head.  Lisa ran her
hands lightly over the girl's body as Liselle stood there hanging from
the cuffs, trembling slightly with anticipation.  Finally, Lisa, the
soft spoken, submissive Lisa, crossed over to the gym bag to withdraw
the long, black leather, braided whip.

This was my house, and I had the dubious honour of being the master
here.  Lisa gave recognition of that fact by standing before me as she
shook out the wicked looking whip.  I felt Samantha shudder beside me
upon seeing the length of thick, tightly woven leather uncoil before
her eyes.  I had to make sure this didn't get out of hand.  Three
words.

"No blood, Lisa."

"Yes, Sir," she said, with a hint of a frown on her pretty face.

I saw Liselle look up when I spoke, but I wasn't sure if she was happy
or sad over my imposing a restriction on the scene.  However, I wasn't
about to be explaining things to Mike as to how his girl got all
slashed up in my basement this night.

There was no gentle build-up, no softly stroking preamble; Lisa just
started flicking the tip of that nasty whip over her sister's lovely
helpless body.  She wasn't putting much effort into the strokes, didn't
need to.  The whip snaked towards a spot on Liselle, the tip's speed
ever increasing, until it made contact with her skin.  Then it fell
away to reveal a bright red welt.  Liselle grunted in pain or screamed
out, it made no difference.  Lisa just kept up an easy rhythm, slashing
the whip on Liselle wherever her fancy let it go.

Liselle's breasts, and between the girl's legs were tempting targets
that Lisa let the whip visit time and time again, checking the swing
only slightly to not cause any undue damage.  Down her legs, up her bum
and her back, red marks of stinging pain appearing on her everywhere.
Liselle would cum, a great howling cum that would, I thought, pull the
ceiling down upon us.  Yet Lisa wouldn't pause, or even slow down.
She'd whip her sister's hanging body through each of her orgasms,
driving the force of her cum higher until she dropped, to hang limply
for a moment.  The next couple of blows wouldn't seem to register until
Liselle would suddenly snap to, and the cycle began to repeat.

"Master," I heard, after Liselle's sixth or seventh orgasm.

I turned towards Samantha, seated beside me on the sofa.  She'd wince
slightly at each crack of Lisa's whip.

"Master, please?  Liselle's had enough."

I turned back to the scene before me.  Lisa wasn't in a trance or
anything, she was alert, wide eyed, and in control.  She was placing
each blow carefully; surely mindful of the physical as well as the
mental effects her whip was having upon her sister.  Liselle was fast
approaching another orgasm, building herself up for a mind blower.  I
was able to catch Lisa's eye and I put up one finger, mouthing the
words "One more."  Lisa smiled a wide smile.

I held Samantha tighter to me as Lisa picked up her pace an almost
imperceptible amount.  She concentrated the strokes on Liselle's bum,
putting slightly more snap into each one.  Liselle was panting great
big breaths, and she started to cum.  Lisa brought the whip around in a
wide arc, let its length coil around her sister's waist, then drew it
tightly around her and tucked the handle under the coils.  Liselle
shook and twisted, her cum blasting through her, as the handle of the
whip bumped against her pussy.  Lisa stood meekly to the side, like a
shy little girl, watching.

I stood up, mentally shaking my head.  I will never understand what
drives someone to seek such intense pain.  Three girls with me in the
basement, one of which, my lovely wife Samantha.  All bearing the
markings of an intense beating.  "It wasn't me, your Honour!  I never
did anything.  It was they.  They did it to themselves." Ya, right.

I went to Liselle to walk around the girl.  In a few places, the whip
had bitten slightly into the girl's skin, and tiny droplets of blood
had formed in the wounds.  I gave Lisa a glance, and she looked towards
the floor, a guilty grin playing at the corners of her mouth.  The heat
radiating off Liselle's body was like standing next to a furnace.

"Lisa, do you have something to rub on Liselle, some skin lotion or
something like that?"

"Yes, Sir," she answered.  "Master uses a herbal cream that's quite
soothing.  We have some in the bag."

"Take care of Liselle.  Sam, could I see you for a moment."

Samantha stood up while Lisa went to her sister to begin taking her
down.  Liselle was barely conscious, but I took Sam's arm and led her
aside.

I'd like to understand, someday, I was really trying to.  But that last
scene made it somewhat difficult.  Liselle would wear those painful
markings for quite some time.  I watched from the other side of the
room as her sister struggled to free her from the rings in the ceiling.
I saw Liselle almost fall, slumping to the floor as the chains came
free.  She groaned, a long, pitiful sound, like that of a delicate
beast that had been mauled by a lion.

I looked at Samantha.  Samantha's wide eyes searched mine.

In a low voice, I asked, "Are you O.K.?"

"Yes, Sir."

"I'm not upset, Sam.  I'm really trying to understand why you so enjoy
these sorts of things.  Look at the twins."

Sam turned to see.  Lisa and Liselle were smiling now as Lisa began
rubbing the skin cream over her sister's whip marks.  Liselle was
talking to her, excitedly.

I went on.  "I have no doubts that you girls enjoy these sessions with
whips and things, but Liselle must be in agony now.  There's other
things we do that must be more pleasurable; what is the attraction in
receiving such pain?"

Sam was lost in thought for a moment.  "Sir, you're asking something I
have no answer for.  You saw how Lisa was with Liselle, in control,
master of her universe.  As I've seen you many times now.  When you're
whipping me, my universe shrinks until there's only myself, and you who
controls every aspect of me.  There's just me, and the pain that you
give me.  And I feel so complete.

"It hurts at the start, hurts like hell.  But then it changes.  The
pain begins to fade and is replaced by a warm pleasure that grows and
grows.  You know what happens, I cum.  Over and over, each one stronger
and longer than the last.  There's no pain then, only pleasure.  Just
me and you.  I don't have to do anything; I don't have to be anything.
All I need do is give myself over to the total enjoyment of the thing.

"The pain returns when it's over.  I say it isn't bad because I don't
want you to worry, but I hurt.  The hurting is something I have to deal
with if I want what goes along with it.  And I do want it, master, I
can't say why, but it's something I need to go through once in a
while."

I took Sam's hand and led her back to the girls.  I sat down beside
Liselle.  She turned to me.  She had been rubbing the cream onto Lisa's
marks, and the two girls smelled fragrant with the herbal lotion.
Liselle's markings were narrow, slightly raised welts, red around the
sides and more whitish in the middle.  They looked painful.  I gave her
a comforting smile.

"Are you feeling better?" I asked her.

"Yes, Sir.  I feel very satisfied.  Thank you, Sir."

Right, satisfied.  I topped up my wine glass and tilted the bottle
towards Liselle.  She gave me a nod, so I drained the bottle into her
glass, then I began to gather up the teacups and pot, empty plates.
Needing something to occupy my mind, I asked around for drink orders,
milk for Samantha, and tea for Lisa.  Then I took the tray upstairs.

My mind spun while I waited for the water to boil.  While whipping my
first wife Susan, we mostly did it in fun.  We were young and
inexperienced back then, and it wasn't too serious a thing for us.
With the twins, however, not only did they both know how, but they both
equally enjoyed either end of the whip.  They both had skills that only
came from long, hard practice.  It was serious business with them.

I fixed the drinks and a bowl of pretzels, found another couple
blankets, and returned to the basement.  Samantha was lying on her
stomach, getting a rubdown with the skin cream from Lisa.  Liselle came
out of the washroom as I set down the tray.  I dropped the blankets and
moved to the centre post, picked up the chain and lock, then went to
Sam to lock the chain around her ankle again.  Lisa got up to use the
toilet; Liselle took her place near Sam, touching her back lovingly.
She still had on the cuffs, locked, with the short chains dangling from
them.

Reaching over, I picked up their keys from the table and unlocked the
locks on Liselle's cuffs.  I used one lock through the buckle of her
left cuff to join it to Samantha's right bracelet.  After Lisa returned
I locked her right hand to Samantha's left.  I took my keys for
Samantha's locks and the girl's keys to the locks on their cuffs and
carried them into the laundry room, out of their reach.  Then I
returned for a last look at my three pretty captives.

I had planned to just leave the girls locked together for the night
while I slept upstairs in the bed.  As I turned to go, I heard Sam call
to me in that sweet, slightly husky voice of hers.  Her soft, low,
deeply submissive voice.

"Master?"

I turned to her.  "Yes, little one?"

She was on her knees, her hands stretched towards me, a beautiful
girl's hand locked to each of her bracelets.

"Please?"

I knelt before her.  Samantha wrapped her arms around me and drew me
close.  She kissed me softly.  I felt four hands touching my back.  Two
pressing on me, two, fingertips tracing little circles on me.

"Master," Samantha whispered, "this low one needs you badly.  She needs
to feel you inside of her."

I was getting a feeling that this had been discussed by the girls while
I was upstairs.  Making love to my wife while two pretty girls watched?
Or, what?

"Samantha, do you know what you're asking here?" I asked her.

I looked to my left at Liselle.  She couldn't hold my gaze, and she
glanced down, but not before I saw a grin and a nod, yes.
I looked at Lisa.  She stared back, smiling.  Sam in the middle.

"I'd like my friends to stay, if it pleases you, Sir.  If you'll permit
it, may they join us?"

Well gee, I just don't know.  Three beauties at the same time, who'd
ever heard of such a thing?

I got up to arrange the blankets on the floor to make a nicely padded
surface.  I found a pillow for my head.  I undid my shorts and let them
drop to the floor.  My cock was finally able to spring free, zeroing in
immediately on the girls crouched before me.  Six wide eyes stared with
anticipation.

I shrugged off my leather vest, letting it fall behind me, then I lay
myself down on the floor and propped up my head with the pillow.  The
trio made their way across to where I lay.  Samantha straddled my legs
and sank down on my cock while the twins closed in around me.  I
reached for Samantha's hips to guide her as she settled on me with my
cock buried deeply inside her hot little pussy.  Her hands went to my
arms, bringing the two girls' hands with them.  The twins' free hands
stroked Sam's breasts, then her tummy, then down along my tummy and
over my chest.

Tentatively, at first, testing the waters as it were, Lisa moved closer
to my head.  I reached to caress her thigh.  Lisa's pussy with its
sparse golden hair was inches from my face, and I could smell she'd
taken a wash beforehand.  I looked at Sam, who was grinding her hips
over me in a tight little circle.  She smiled at me as I stroked Lisa's
soft thigh.  I put a little pressure on Lisa's leg and she brought it
up over my head.  I stared up at the girl's centre as the lips parted
open, revealing her inner redness.

Liselle brought her leg over me and settled her wet pussy on my chest.
She faced Samantha and I heard Sam make the kind of shuddering groan
that she does when I'd start sucking on her nipples.  Liselle's head
was down on Sam's breasts, forcing her to grind her pussy against my
chest.  Lisa lowered herself until I could just reach her with my
tongue.  I began to lap at her delicious slit.

My hands drifted down Lisa's thighs to encounter Liselle's feet.  I
gave them a gentle squeeze, then moved back up to press Lisa tighter to
my face.  I pushed my tongue inside her, then drew it out to find the
girl's clit.  I flicked over it with the tip.  Lisa had her arm around
her sister, playing with her breasts.  A hand, Liselle's perhaps,
spread open the pussy over my face.  Somewhere in back, Samantha rode
my cock like a madwoman.  I could feel her feet hooked over my legs,
the chain around her ankle digging into my thigh.

I sucked the little nub of Lisa's clit into my mouth, madly flicking it
with my tongue.  I drove her to the peak, then right over.  It was
different not being drowned in pussy juices when the girl came.  No
metal rings to click against my teeth either.  I missed that.  Lisa
made a soft keening sound as her body shuddered over me.

Samantha slowed and tensed, then howled as her cum washed through her.
A hand burrowed between my chest and Liselle's crotch.  I attacked
Lisa's pussy anew.

Liselle in the middle came, squeezing my body between her thighs,
crushing the hand beneath her into my chest.  Lisa exploded next,
grinding her cunt into my mouth.  Then the long loud wail of Sam as her
cunt clamped down tight against my cock.  It might have been nice to
get them all to cum together but I'd never last long enough to find
out.  I was mere seconds away from a major eruption.

I pushed on Lisa to get her off my face.  She understood; I needed air.
She moved forwards to snuggle closer to Liselle and she pressed her wet
slit down on my upper chest.  I had a view of her lovely tush and up
towards her back as my chin pressed in her ass crack.  She threw her
head back, her golden hair spilled down to tickle my face, and I went
off.

I attempted to buck my hips up to get myself deeper into Samantha, but
all the weight held me paralysed.  The girls were squeezing the life
out of me, an immense fountain of which blasted through me and into my
fantastic wife.  I started the bass beat with my animalistic grunts;
Samantha added the contralto, her mournful wail filling the basement.
The twins filled in the high notes.

All three girls lifted up and I slid myself from beneath.  They
collapsed in a heap of girl flesh.  I stood up, picked up my clothes,
picked up my wine glass, and drained it.  I went over to check the
fireplace and turned the damper down low.  At the door, I dimmed the
track lights.

"Good night, girls," I called.

"Good night, master," the three answered in unison.

Groggily, I staggered up the stairs to my bed.


[part 2]

At some point during the night, I heard noises in the basement.  Then I
heard the toilet flush and I pictured the three girls, locked together
in a tight bundle, manoeuvring around in the tiny washroom down there.
I probably smiled to myself, but I was asleep already.

When I woke, I felt for Samantha, and finding her gone, I figured she
was in the can.  When she didn't return and I heard no sounds, I rolled
my head over to see the clock, the remnants of my brain sloshing inside
my skull.  Nine thirty.

I lay for a few moments, till memories returned.  The scene last night.
The twins and Samantha.  The whipping.  Whippings?  My mouth tasted
bad, and a strange scent pervaded my nostrils.  A pussy without rings
in the lips.  I sat bolt upright, my head swimming.  What the hell went
on last night anyway?

I made my way to the can and took a leak.  My dick was sore, so I must
have got fucked.  I hoped it was with my wife.  I crept through the
silence like a thief and tiptoed downstairs.

The track lights in the rec room were turned down low, and light from
outside filtered in through the curtains over the high basement
windows.  Three naked girls were snuggled together on blankets and
cushions on the floor.  Cuddled close together like kittens.  Samantha
in the middle with the twins curled protectively around her, their
hands locked to Samantha's bracelets, and Sam's ankle chain was also
tangled in amongst them to further bind the three closely together.
The room reeked of sex.

I'd lain witness to two whippings down there, and after, Sam had begged
me for sex.  With Mike's lovely twins joining in the fun.  Good God.
Silently, I crept upstairs and made myself a coffee.

It was later on when I heard stirrings from the basement, and I went
down to see the girls.  Samantha bid me to come to her, and she pulled
me into the group for a big hug and kiss.  I'd half expected Sam to be
mad about the group sex bit last night, but she showed no animosity
towards me or the girls she was locked to.  I snuggled in amongst the
three pretty girls for hugs and kisses all around.

A little later, I went into the other room to fetch the keys, and I
unlocked all the locks, Sam's ankle chain included.

"Your punishment is being revoked for such good behaviour," I said to
her.  "Come ladies, let's have some breakfast."

Upstairs, I began fixing some food, but the twins took over, leaving me
and Sam sitting at the table.  The three girls were all still nude, but
I only had eyes for Samantha.  I sat next to her and held her hand,
stroked up her arm, down her body.  I bent to kiss her lovingly from
time to time as the twins made us all a nice breakfast.

After a leisurely morning meal, the twins packed up their whips and
stuff, then dressed again in their scanty leather harness outfits.  The
red markings from the flogger on Lisa and Sam had faded quite a bit
overnight, but Liselle, who'd had the worst of it with that wicked
braided whip, still bore bright red welts from her and her sister's
session with it.  We all bundled up to face the cold and the drive back
to Mike's place.  I'd asked Sam to come along for the ride, since I
couldn't seem to bear being away from her.

In front of Mikes big house, I turned to Liselle, who'd sat up front
with me as Sam and Lisa cuddled on the back seat.

"I'd like to thank you both very much for making last evening so
special for Samantha and me," I said to them.  "You girls were quite
something to watch."

"I thank you, Sir," Liselle said, "for letting us share in the love you
two have for each other."

"And for the love and kindness you have both given us in your home,"
Lisa added.

The three girls got out, and I watched Sam huddle close to whisper in
the twin's ears.  She then climbed into the truck beside me.  I wheeled
around the circle in front, along the drive, and nosed out into the
deserted street.

"What was that all about?" I asked.

"Nothing master," Sam said coyly.  "Just girl talk."

"Uh huh."

I drove to a fish place down by the water for a nice lunch.  I made
sure to tell Sam how much in love I was with her, but she seemed really
contented with the way the weekend had worked out.  I could hardly
believe she was alright with my licking Lisa's pussy last night, yet
Samantha said to me that she'd thoroughly enjoyed every moment of what
went on in the basement with the twins, and that seemed to include the
wild sex part at the end between the four of us.  While it was not
something I'd like to make a habit of, I had to admit I had a nice time
as well.

Samantha was quiet on the drive home, and when we were inside, she came
to me with her lock in her hands.  We stripped down in the bedroom, I
locked her bracelets behind her, and we made torrid love once, then a
slower, gentler, teasing form of love later on.  We broke for something
to eat, watched some T.V. shows in the evening, and had a sleepy fuck
in bed that night.

Monday morning I had to spring out of bed, fight traffic into the city,
and start my new slash old job at the hospital.  I found a moment to
call Mike, to see if he was upset about how the scene with the twins
seemed to have gotten out of hand, but he said the girls had told him
everything and that he was pleased we all had such a great time.

"I'm only sorry I missed it," he said to me.

The first week at work consisted of endless meetings with the budgetary
committee, hospital administrators, and a group of consultants they'd
hired on to oversee the spending of the new finances.  By Friday, I was
ready to chuck it all, but Sam and I needed the money, more so with the
baby coming along.

So I stuck it out.  Nigel and I took a trip to Calgary, Vancouver, then
down to Seattle and Silicon Valley to visit hospitals, computer
equipment makers, and programming companies.  Off to Dallas, Chicago,
and back home.  Around the continent in one week.  By the middle of it,
I was climbing the hotel walls, dying to hold my sweet Samantha in my
arms.

Sam took a cab to the airport to meet my plane, and I was never more
glad to see someone in my life.  I stood there embracing her sweet body
to me as the crowds bustled around us.  Nigel said bye, but I barely
acknowledged him; my mind was filled with Samantha.  At home, we began
taking off clothing even before we had the front door closed.  It was a
wild weekend of sex, and more sex.

Anyway, after two months of ever more tedious meetings and planning
sessions, the real work finally began.  New equipment started rolling
in, piles of cables had to be strung throughout the building, and I was
spending longer and longer times away from Sam, working sometimes late
into the evening, when I'd drive home in a daze to fall into bed.

Samantha, now nearly seven months along, was looking ever more radiant
with her tummy sticking out and it bumping into me when I held her in
my arms.  She was bubbling over with that healthy glow that comes along
with being pregnant.  Her earlier wild mood swings had evened out, and
her bad dreams at night were much less frequent now.  She'd sometimes
be awkward as hell, almost comical when she'd jump out of a chair and
find her centre of gravity had shifted over the previous few minutes.
Or she'd reach over for something to come up short as her belly bumped
into something in the way.  I'd go to her and hold her, telling her how
beautiful she looked, and really mean it, because she was just so
adorable.

It was on a lazy Sunday afternoon, and I'd taken a day off work just to
be with her, that the subject of her spending some time in Mike's cage
came up.  She'd had another ultrasound during the past week, and it was
confirmed the baby was a normal, healthy, girl.  We celebrated that
Sunday morning by spending it in bed.

"You know, Samantha," I said, "I'll be very busy at work for the next
month at least, until we get the new systems up and running.  If you
were stuck in Mike's cage, I wouldn't have to drive all the way here
each night.  Mike lives only fifteen minutes from the hospital.  I
could set up a cot in his dungeon and sleep there beside you."

"Sleep beside me while I'm locked in the cage?" she asked.

"Well, yeah.  I don't suppose we could fuck with you in there, but it
might be fun anyway.  You know?  Let me call Mike and see if the cage
is free for the next little while.  When's your next doctor's
appointment?"

Sam thought for a moment.  "Mid May, four weeks away."

"Were you planning anything for the next few weeks?"

Sam started grinning a big grin.  "I guess I could re-arrange my
schedule."

I gave Mike a call in the evening.

"Jim, buddy, how've you been?  Long time, no hear."

"Been workin' my ass off Mike.  How's things?"

"Me and the girls got back from visiting your pal Billy in Oklahoma
last weekend.  The twins got their collars put on."

Wow!  I'd forgot.  "Super!" I said.  "How'd it go?"

"Took old Bill a while to machine out the lettering, then he had to
send 'em off for the gold filling.  I got busy with clients then, but
we finally had it done.  The girls look great; I'm grateful for your
hooking me up with the guy."

"I'm eager to see them.  Listen Mike, could Sam book some time in your
cage sometime soon?"

"Hell Jim, anytime.  It's not being used at the moment."

I told Mike about my working at the hospital in the city and how I'd
like to rent a cot in his dungeon to save myself some travel time.

"Jim, you dog, that's so sweet!  Sleeping with Samantha, holding hands
through the bars.  I'm touched."

I laughed to cover my embarrassment.  Mike made a suggestion that I
thought was a good one, and I said we'd see him in the morning.

I had a lock like Mike had mentioned, and I went to the basement and
dug it out.  One of those big, heavy, high security kinds.  Using a
calliper, I measured the shackle thickness to see if it would fit.  A
bit under half inch.  Perfect.  I looked around the room.  Climbing up
on the workbench, I tapped in a nail, clicked open the lock and pulled
the keys out, then hung them on the nail out of sight.

I carried the open lock up to the bedroom where Samantha was waiting
for me.  She'd had to wait there for me; a thin chain went through her
two bracelets and was locked to the headboard.  I placed the big lock
on the bed before her.

"Mike said we could use his cage anytime," I told Sam.

Sam's eyes were on the lock.  "That's a big lock," she said.

"Mike suggested it," I said.  "When I told him I'd like to move into
his dungeon with you, he thought more security might be needed on the
door to the cage.  Just so I don't let you out and have my way with
you.  The keys are hanging downstairs.  When you're inside the cage, it
will be an hour and a half drive to go get them."

Sam sat there staring open mouthed at the big, solid lock.  Then a grin
began to spread over her face.

"You like?"

"That means I'll truly be stuck in there."

"If you have an emergency, like if you start to have a baby, I can get
you out.  In an hour and a half, I can drive here and back.  Once you
go into labour, it takes a while to have the baby, but that's not going
to happen yet, it's still too early.

"But..."

I could see Sam trying to think about all the things that could go
wrong.  But people like her, and I, we don't dwell on the reasons why
not to do something crazy, we just do it and hope for the best.  And it
usually works out just great, fantastic.  Sam was smiling again and I
went on.

"We'll put you inside with no bondage at first.  Once the lock snaps
shut, you're in.  I don't think you could stand it long all squashed up
like Lisa was, not with that big belly of yours.  It's cramped enough
inside that little cage.

"Once you're settled in, after a few days, we'll add something.  A lock
on your bracelets, a chain to the bars.  Maybe in the end you'll be all
trussed up like Lisa was, we'll have to see how it goes.  O.K.?"

"Master, I love it.  When can we start?"

"I told Mike we'd be there in the morning.  I'll pack your toothbrush
and hair brush, that's all you'll need."

Sam was smiling and made a grab for me, but with her hands chained to
the bed, it didn't work.  I moved closer and snuggled up to her.  Her
big belly was pressed against me, I felt Gwen kick me, and all was
right with the world.

I was late for work Monday morning, but I didn't care.  I had more
important things to do, like getting my wife locked inside Mike's cage.
I had Samantha wear just a light coat, since the weather was getting
warmer, nothing else.  In one pocket she had her toothbrush, the other
her hair brush.  We drove to Mike's big mansion in the city.

Inside the door, we were greeted by my buddy Mike.  Sam took her coat
off, and I heard him gasp as he got an eyeful of Sam's big tummy
jutting out at him.  His arm went towards Sam and she instinctively
touched his hand as if to shake it.  But it wasn't a handshake Mike was
after.

Mike awkwardly stood open mouthed for a moment.

"Mike wants to touch your belly, Sam," I offered.

"I, may I?" Mike stammered.

I took Sam's jacket and handed it to Lisa, who'd appeared along with
her sister at the front door.  Mike's hand trembled slightly as he
touched her big bulge with his palm, then withdrew it slightly.

"It feels hard," he said.  "May I?"

Mike placed his hand on the top, then gently stroked down over her
belly button to the lower part.  I saw him press slightly, feeling the
weight of our unborn child.  He jumped a bit and jerked his hand away.

He looked up at Samantha.  "Something moved."

"There's a baby in there," I said

The twins had gathered around us and they, like Samantha, were nude.
Yet not quite.  The collars that Billy the welder had made them were
the same as I'd seen on Pat in the Bahamas, a flat band of solid shiny
steel.  Maybe an inch wide and perhaps a quarter inch thick, they fit a
little loosely around each girl's neck.

Mike gave Sam's tummy a final feel, then let the twins have a turn.
The two pretty blond girls began fawning over my wife as I'd seen them
do at the house last time.

"Miss Samantha, you look so pretty," said Lisa.  "You're so much bigger
now."

Both Sam and I were staring at the girl's collars.  Mike took Lisa and
moved her hair to show off Billy's handiwork.

Next to the ring in the front, Lisa's name was done in fancy scroll
lettering, inlayed gold set flush into the silver coloured stainless
steel.  Simply stunning.  Lisa's name was to the left of the ring,
Liselle's had hers on her right side.

"I'd thought at first that block letters would be easiest to do," Mike
explained.  "But Billy said he could do it nicer than that.  It took
him a while, but he seems to have a passion for his work."

"He's quite the character," I said.  "I bet he got a charge seeing
these two lovelies."

Mike grinned.  "His hands were shaking so bad we had to stop.  I let
him sit and have some time with the girls to settle him down."

I laughed.  "Yeah, I'm sure that calmed him down."

I slid my finger under Liselle's collar and looked closely at the back,
but I could neither see nor feel where Billy had done the weld.

"Beautiful work," I said.  "You girls look lovely."

"Thank you, Sir," they said together.

We finally all headed downstairs to the dungeon.  The lights in the
room were bright, the cage sat in the corner of the room, door open at
the ready.  Samantha and I went to it while Mike and the twins stood
nearby.

I'd brought an old, but soft blanket to spread over the concrete floor
inside the cage.  I knelt in front of the door and lay the blanket down
inside.  Sam knelt beside me and we took a moment to embrace each
other, for the last time in what could be a while.  I kissed her and
whispered that I loved her.

Samantha crawled into the little cage.  She settled onto the blanket,
sitting in a slightly crouched position with the top of her head
pressed against the top bars of the cage.  I slowly swung the door
closed until the latch closed with a solid clang.  Taking the big lock
from my pocket, I fitted the shackle into the plate of the latch.
Samantha's hand extended through the bars of the cage door to gently
touch mine.

"I love you master," she said.

She pressed on my hand, I pushed, and the lock closed with a final
sounding thump.

I stood up.  "Bye, Sam.  I'll see you tonight."

With that, Mike, the twins, and I filed out of the basement dungeon,
leaving my pretty Samantha alone, trapped in the cage.

Upstairs, Mike pulled me aside.

"Are you sure Samantha's going to be all right in that thing?" he
asked.

"Mike, I haven't got a clue.  All I know is it's something she wants to
do.  I think it's something that she needs to do.  She has to go
through it to see if she can, you know?"

"Ya, I know.  It's just that big tummy of hers.  I felt the baby punch
my hand, Jim.  How's Sam going to manage in there like that, all
squashed up with no room to stretch out?"

"Look," I said.  "Check in on her from time to time, see if she's all
right.  Don't bother her too much for the first little while, and we'll
see how she takes to it.  If there are any problems, have the hospital
page me.  I think she'll be fine, but..."

"Ya, I know, Jim.  Don't worry, me and the girls will take care of
her."

"That's what I'm worried about," I said with a grin.

Outside I got my bag of clothes, my sleeping bag and a pad, and a
pillow.  Mike took the stuff inside.  I got into the truck and drove
away.

There was no way I could concentrate on my work that day, and I made
the same mistakes over and over.  I was helping pull in new cables, and
one time the wire ran out, slipping through my fingers as the other guy
pulled, two floors up.  I watched the end disappear into the hole in
the wall, watched it as one would watch a poisonous snake slither into
its hole, making no effort to grab the end and save an hour's work in
fishing the cable back down.  Carlos came down to see me sitting there,
staring at the outlet with no wire in it, my mind, a million miles
away.

Not really that far, only a fifteen minute drive away.  My lovely Sam,
sitting alone in Mike's basement room, stuck inside a little steel
cage.

It would be early now; she'd still be exploring the confines of the
thing.  Getting a feel for what could become her new home for the next
little while.  She'd be pushing her arms and legs out through the tight
bars, seeing how far she could stretch before being stopped by the hard
steel that surrounded her.

Sam was mostly sleeping on her side lately, letting the weight of her
tummy rest against the mattress.  She'd have to have her feet sticking
out through the bars at the end of the cage.  Her head pressed up
against the other end.

A voice called to me through the fog.

"Jim!  Wake up.  You have a rough weekend?"

Carlos, seeing me sitting there looking at the hole in the wall.

Where'd the cable go?

"Give you a day off and we have to re-train you?"

"I..."

"Come on.  Let's go for coffee."

"You go, Carlos, I've got to make a call."

"Still mooning over your new wife?  She's probably on the couch eating
candies and watching T.V."

Oh, I don't think so.  I found a phone and called Mike's.  He picked
up, told me everything was fine.

"Sam's just fine," he said.  "She was just sitting there last time I
looked.  There's just one thing, we have a narrow pan for a toilet down
there and she has trouble squatting over it to go."

"How much space between the bars?" I asked.

"Four inches except one corner.  There's six there."

"I've got just the thing," I said.

I went and found Carlos, grabbed a coffee, and we got back to work.
Around two, we broke for lunch and I found what I needed, got in the
truck, and drove to Mike's.  I'd swiped a bedpan from the hospital, a
nice shiny stainless steel one that was just under six inches high.
Downstairs, I saw my girl, sitting on her blanket inside the cage,
looking back at me.

"I brought you a present," I said, passing the bedpan sideways through
the bars in the corner of the cage.

"Oh Master, you're so sweet," she said laughingly.

I squeezed my arms through the bars to embrace Sam, hard steel between
us.  She pressed her face to the side, I did the same, and we kissed.
Her little silver nose ring clicked against the steel bar as our
tongues danced together.  My hands ran up and down her back, sliding
over her soft, silky hair.  Sam shifted a bit to the right, pressing my
arm against the bar, and I broke away and let out a little yelp of
pain.  Sam moved backwards to the other side of the cage, laughing.

Lisa brought me down a sandwich and I ate lunch sitting beside Samantha
with her stuck inside the small steel cage.

On the way out Mike gave me a key to the house so I could come and go
if they weren't around.  Seeing that Sam was O.K. made me feel better
and I was able to get some work done that afternoon.  In the evening,
the twins had a plate of dinner for me when I got "home", and one for
Sam, since she'd wanted to have supper with me.  We ate together,
sitting on the floor, her inside the cage and me beside it.  Sam's
plate wouldn't fit through without the food falling off, so she had to
reach past the bars to get a fork full, then bring it inside to her
mouth.  This was going to be a weird few weeks.

Mike gave me the run of the basement with the bar and fridge, the big
T.V. with satellite reception.  He'd said to hang handcuffs over the
doorknob to the dungeon if I needed privacy, so later on in the evening
that's what I did.

I grabbed another set off the rack and clicked one cuff through Sam's
two bracelets.  I attached the other cuff to a top bar of her cage.
Sam manoeuvred her bum up against the end.  I pushed my dick inside her
cage and inside her.

Now this is a bloody awkward way to fuck, let me tell you.  Sam would
move and I would too, but we couldn't seem to move together with the
unmovable steel bars between us.  I couldn't get far inside her with
the bars pressed against me.  My cock kept slipping out.  Sam was on
her knees with her hands locked to the top of the cage, and in the end,
I reached inside to grab her hips to hold her still.  Then I could bang
away, ramming my pelvis against those hard bars, but feeling my cock
sliding in Sam's velvety pussy.  It worked out not too bad.

I unlocked the cuffs from Sam.  She'd been dumping the bedpan by the
drain in the floor so I used the hose to rinse out her pan and around
the drain.  Solid waste could be carried to the toilet, but pee was no
problem.  I got her a glass of milk and one for me, then I made my bed
up on the floor beside her.  Sam was playing with the handcuffs I'd
left beside the cage.  She clicked one down around her left wrist.  Her
bracelet would jangle against it when she moved her arm.

I went and fiddled with the light dimmers on the wall, settling on
having one light in the middle of the room on low.  I heard the
ratcheting of a handcuff, loud in the quiet dungeon.  Making my way
back to the cage, I lay down on the sleeping bag.  I reached into the
cage to feel Samantha, lying on her side, one hand stroking my arm, the
other cuffed to the bars between us.

"Good night, Little One," I said.

"Good night, Master."

I wakened with the incessant chirping of my little travel alarm clock
next to my head.  Grabbing it, I felt for the button and clicked it
off.  Then I opened my eyes, but it was still quite dark.  My hand was
touching Samantha, but there was something pressing against my arm.  A
hard steel bar.  In the dim light of Mike's dungeon, I saw Sam's eyes
twinkling, staring at me.

"Good morning, Master," she said.

"Morning, beautiful.  Sleep well?"

"Mmmm," she purred.  "Yes, Sir, I did."

"I have to go to work," I said glumly.

"Be home for lunch?"

Lunch?  Why not.  "Sure," I said.

I found the handcuff key to take them off the cage bar and Sam's wrist,
and I emptied out her bedpan after she passed it through to me.  I left
the cuffs and the key on the floor beside her cage, in case she wanted
something to play with later on.  I then got dressed, kissed her
goodbye, and went upstairs.

Lisa was already up and had a coffee ready for me.  She'd made a bacon
and egg sandwich, also for me.  Since I didn't have to haul ass down
the highway I could sit and enjoy my breakfast, as well as the company
of the lovely Lisa.

"How is Miss Samantha, Sir?" Lisa asked.  "Did she sleep well?"

"Yes Lisa, I believe she did.  I think she's going to enjoy her time
down there."

I guess, emboldened by my easy manner, Lisa asked, "Master had
instructed us not to bother Miss Samantha, but sister and I would like
to see her, if we may."

"Well, why don't you and Liselle visit her for a little while this
morning?  Now, the two of you just go see her and talk to her for a
bit; I'll be back here for lunch and I'll see how she is.  Then maybe
this afternoon you can all get together for some fun.  Would that be
O.K.?"

"Oh yes, thank you, Sir.

In her excitement, Lisa forgot her place, and she put her arm around my
shoulder, bending to kiss me.  She stopped just short to pull her arm
away, then bowed her head down, shamed by her impulsiveness.  I stood
up, reached up to hook my finger through the ring in her collar, then
pulled her face to me and kissed her on the lips.

"Thank you for the lovely breakfast Lisa," I said.  "I've gotta run."

Yes, there was a definite spring in my step that morning, and Carlos
and I managed to work as a team, getting all the cables pulled in on
two floors of the hospital.  Just after one thirty, we took lunch, and
I drove back to Mike's house to see my wife.  Mike was out, but the
twins met me at the door.  A tray had been prepared, so I took it down
to the dungeon.

Sam was lying down inside the cage, having a nap, but she sat up when
she heard me enter.  She had the handcuffs locked around her wrists,
and her bracelets tinkled against them.  I placed the tray down beside
her cage, then pressed my face to the bars to kiss her.

Something had been added to the cage, and I glanced at it.  The water
bottle had been mounted to the end that faced the wall with the clear
plastic tube running down to the hollow dildo that was clamped to a
bar.  The end of the dildo was sticking inside, for Sam to drink from.

"I see you have a new toy," I said.

"The twins came to visit with me, and I said I was thirsty, so they
gave me that," Sam said, frowning at the thing.

"Show me how it works."

Sam turned towards the dildo to take it into her mouth.  I watched her
cheeks work as she sucked hard on it.  A bubble popped up inside the
bottle, showing that Sam had gotten a sip of water from the dildo.  She
rocked back on her heels, bumping her head on the top of the cage,
wiped her chin, and smiled at me.  So cute.

I checked Sam's cuffs to make sure they weren't too tight.  They were
fine, and the double lock had been engaged so they couldn't tighten up
on her.  Looking around, I spied the key, tossed against one of the
glass panels around the area, out of her reach.

"Who put these on you, the girls?"

Sam blushed a bit.  "I did.  After you left."

I smiled.  Samantha's soup was in a tall, narrow cup that would go
through the bars.  A sandwich on a plate, wrapped in plastic.  I passed
her the soup and tilted the plate; she took it inside and sat cross
legged on the blanket to eat.

"So, did you have a nice visit with the twins?" I asked.

"They came down to sit with me for a while," Sam answered.  Her lower
lip pouted out a bit.  "It seemed like they didn't want to stay too
long."

"Well, Mike thinks sometimes it's better if you're left alone down
here.  Gives a person a chance to think about stuff."

"It gets kinda lonely all by myself.  I miss being with you, master."

"Would you like the girls to come see you more often?"

Sam's face brightened.  "That would be nice."

"I'll talk to Mike," I said.

Sam made a nice stinky poo and I emptied out her pan, then I had to go.

"Master?" Sam asked.  "Could you take these cuffs off?"

"Maybe tonight," I said, grinning.  "I have to get back to work.  Bye,
Sam."

Upstairs, Mike hadn't returned, but I told the girls that they could go
see Sam for an hour or two if they wanted to.  They seemed quite eager
to do so.  I left to return to work.


Samantha heard the twins coming and she looked up.  The two girls,
wearing nothing as was the rule for women inside the room, were coming
to visit again.  Sam sat up with the handcuffs digging into her wrists,
her bracelets dropping down her arms to jangle noisily against them.
The girls were holding hands as they approached the cage.

"Master Jim said we could see you again," Liselle said.  "If we're
bothering you, we could come back later."

"No, please.  Sit with me for a while."

Lisa found a blanket to spread on the floor and the two sat close
together beside the cage.  Sam placed her hands on the bars and the two
girls reached out to touch Sam's hands.  Sam tried to reach out through
the bars, but of course the handcuff chain made that impossible.  She
tried pushing both arms through the same place but her arms got
squashed together, making them press her breasts together, and it hurt.

"Could you take these off me?" Sam asked.  "The key is right over
there."

Liselle looked at Lisa.

Lisa said, "Our master would be angry if we were to interfere with your
bondage, Miss.  I'm sorry."

"But I put these on myself, this morning."

"Did you ask Master Jim to take them off when he was with you earlier?"

"Yes, but he didn't."

"Then we cannot," Liselle said.

Lisa looked towards the handcuff key.  "How did the key get there?"

"I..." Sam hesitated a moment.  "I threw it there after I'd locked the
cuffs on."

"Please, tell me, why did you throw the key out of your reach?"

"I..." Again a pause while Sam tried to make sense of it.  "I wanted to
stay like this.  I didn't want to be able to take them off."

Lisa smiled.  "And so, it is done."

Lisa reached inside the cage to stroke Sam's cheek.  Liselle also put
her arms through the bars to smooth Sam's hair.  She gathered it up in
one hand, holding its length tightly, wrapping the strands around her
hand, and gave it a gentle tug.  Sam closed her eyes.  Liselle pulled
on Samantha's hair to bring her head up against the side of the cage.
She held Sam there for a moment, then released her hair.  Picking up
Sam's brush, Liselle began to brush out the length of her hair.

"You have lovely long hair, Miss Samantha.  May I braid it for you?"

"If you'd like," Sam said, contentedly.

Liselle got up to leave the cage area and go to the rack of dungeon
supplies.  On a shelf, she found what she wanted, then returned to sit
beside the cage once more.  While Sam leaned back against the side,
Liselle took up the length of her hair.  She gathered it up in an even
bunch up high on the back of Samantha's head.

Lisa held the bunch of hair while Liselle tied the thin cotton rope
around the base.  Then Sam's hair was divided into five fairly even
bunches.  The rope made six, and the twins braided up Sam's hair,
intertwining the length of rope amongst the lengths of hair.  Samantha
was left with one, tight, intricate braid, about four feet of rope
hanging off the end.  Liselle used a short strip of rawhide to tie off
the end of the braid.

The twins got Samantha on her knees facing the side of the cage.  They
had her bring her handcuffed hands through the bars on top, then her
arms up through to her elbows.  Sam's arms were drawn backwards by Lisa
so her forearms were flat on top of the cage, her elbows hooked over a
bar.  Lisa hooked a thumb around the handcuff chain to hold them.

Liselle took hold of Sam's braid to feed it through the top of the cage
and around a bar behind her.  She brought it around Sam's handcuff
chain, then back to the back where she pulled up all the slack, drawing
Sam's head backwards, to tie the rope off.

Sam arched her back to relieve the strain on her neck.  Her face was
pressed against the top bars, her eyes staring at her bracelets and the
handcuffs on her wrists.  The twins had her get her feet under her so
her knees were up and her feet were flat on the blanket.  Her thighs
pressed against her big belly.  Samantha had a bit more comfort this
way, but only for a moment.  Liselle pulled in a bit more slack on
Sam's hair and re-tied the rope.

Samantha could not move her upper body one bit.  If she tried to raise
her hands, her hair would pull her head back even more.  She tried to
move her feet forward, but her toes hit the bars in front of her.  By
hanging from her elbows her bum wouldn't reach the floor.  She pushed
one foot between the bars in front, but she knew they were too close
together and she only could get her foot and part of her lower leg
through.  She couldn't stretch her leg out.  Sam got her feet under her
again and squatted, staring at the ceiling through the bars.

The twins sat, watching Sam struggle.  Samantha felt very uncomfortable
and didn't think she could take much more of this.  She couldn't raise
up because her face was pressing against the top bars and she couldn't
lower herself because her arms held her up, and her hair would pull her
head back even more.

"Lisa, it hurts," Sam cried.

"I know, Miss Samantha."

"Just five more minutes, Samantha," Liselle said.

Samantha hung on, counting the seconds.  The bars pressed on her
forehead and her cheeks.  Hard steel bars alongside her eyes.  Her legs
trembled with strain.  Samantha shifted her feet back, then forward,
searching for the centre.

"Just a little more, Samantha," Lisa said, encouragingly.  "You can do
it."

Sam felt it as a slippery motion against her thighs, her baby moving
inside her.  The child seemed to do a flip, a violent shift that threw
Sam's balance off.  She inched her feet forwards an inch to compensate,
and she was hit with a pleasant sensation.  Equilibrium, the glorious
centre point.  Sam's fingers had been clutching the rope between her
cuffs and she relaxed her grip.  A feeling seemed to flow down her
arms, across her shoulders and down her body, along her legs, down to
her toes.  Samantha began to smile.  Her neck relaxed and the pressure
of the bars against her face eased.

Lisa held her hair so it wouldn't fall on Sam as she leaned over the
cage to gaze into her eyes.

"You've done it," she quietly said.  "You've found your centre."

"I believe we must hurry," said Liselle to her sister.

Both the twins had smelled it, now Lisa went to Jim's clothing bag.
Beside it, on the floor, the shirt he'd worn to work yesterday.  Lisa
picked it up.  Samantha would make a mess of her blanket so Lisa placed
the shirt between Sam's feet, under her bottom.  Then Lisa did what she
had wanted to do for a while now.  She brought her hand up to stroke a
finger between Samantha's labia rings.

Liselle had her hands on Sam's breasts and Sam felt the contact with
her nipples at the same time as Lisa touched her, lower down.  Sam's
body shuddered as the two sensations collided within her.  Lisa touched
the rings, flicking them to make them tinkle together, while Liselle
gently kneaded Sam's breasts and tweaked her nipples.  Lisa slipped her
finger through Sam's slit, then pressed lightly on her clit.  Her hand
was met with a warm gush of Samantha's juices.

Lisa was lying on the floor with her hand stroking Sam's pussy while
Liselle was bent over the cage, both her arms inside, stroking Sam's
breasts.  Liselle's breast was right over Samantha's face and she took
the nipple into her mouth.  Sam began to suck greedily on Liselle's
nipple while an insane mix of feelings pushing her brain into overload.

Samantha was in the right position to give birth, and at first, that's
what the twins thought was about to happen.  Sam's body went hard,
every muscle tensing up, preparing for the onslaught of her cum.  Her
face pressed tight against the top of the cage as she panted in great
breaths of air.  Sam began to groan loudly with each breath.  A torrent
of liquid gushed from her pussy, drenching Lisa's hand working at her
clit and soaking Jim's shirt as well as a good portion of the blanket.
An intense orgasm blasted Samantha's mind out of the cage that trapped
her body, out of the dungeon, and off to never-never land.

Lisa had screamed when the flood poured over her hand, thinking Sam's
water had broken.  She jumped back from the cage, looking frantically
towards her sister for guidance.  Liselle, her hands still on
Samantha's breasts, felt the immensity of the orgasm that gripped the
girl.  Sam's entire being was vibrating with it.  Liselle moved her
hands lower, around the sides of Sam's tummy.  She felt Sam's womb
contracting tight around the baby, then felt it release.  Slowly,
rhythmically, Sam's orgasm gripped her tight, then allowed a brief
period of relaxation.  Liselle could feel the baby stretch out between
the contractions, move around a bit inside.  All was well.

"It's all right, Lisa," Liselle said.  "Come, hold Samantha.  We have
to release her now."

Lisa moved towards the cage and held Sam upright while Liselle pulled
the slipknot to untie Sam's hair braid.  She passed it through the
cuffs and slowly raised Sam's hands up to allow her to lower herself
down inside the cage.  Lisa guided Sam's head so she didn't bump it,
and Samantha, still quaking from her orgasm, slumped down to the bottom
of the cage.

Liselle worked the sodden shirt out from under Sam, then balled it up
and threw it at her sister.  It caught her square in the face, and Lisa
yelped as the shirt, soaked with Sam's pussy juice, splatted across her
mouth and nose.

"You'd best rinse that out," Liselle said.  "Master Jim will be mad at
you."

Lisa peeled the shirt off her face and stood up.  She went to go, but
as she passed Liselle, her fingers found a particularly juicy part, and
she rubbed it into her sister's face.  Liselle let out a roar and
jumped up.  Lisa was already on the run, but of course, she collided
with Mike who'd come down to investigate the noises coming from the
dungeon.  His arms went around the naked Lisa, the cum soaked shirt
pressed between them.

My beeper went off around three thirty with a cryptic "sam ok/call
mike" on the display.  I found a phone and Mike picked up on the first
ring.  He sounded pissed.

"Sam's all right," he said first, "she's resting.  Did you tell my
girls they could go fool around with your girl?"

"Well, Lisa asked me this morning..."

"Lisa asked?  Lisa?  Lisa never asks for anything."

"Mike, what's got you so steamed?  Sam was lonely and she wanted some
company.  The girls had a chat this morning and Sam felt better."

"They were doing more than chatting this afternoon."

"I was going to ask you at lunch time, but you weren't there."

"So you gave your permission to my girls to fool with your girl?"

My head was starting to hurt.  "Well, yeah."

Mike was quiet for a moment.  "That was a serious breach of etiquette,
Jim.  I keep the twins on a short leash, and the episode this afternoon
has been a setback in their discipline.  We'll have to set some rules;
be here at seven."

"I..." Mike had already hung up.

Promptly at seven, I pulled in front of Mike's mansion and stopped.
Inside, Mike called to me from the kitchen.  He was drinking red wine,
and poured me a glass full, then sat at the table with me.  He sounded
a lot calmer than he had been earlier.

"I had a long talk with Samantha after I'd called you," Mike told me.
"She's very much in love with you, you know."

"I know."

"We talked about the times you've whipped her.  She'd always asked you
to do it, you've never done it to punish her..."

"She's never given me reason to punish her."  This was not the time to
be glib with Mike.  "I would never want to punish her, Mike; she's a
person, and she's free to do as she chooses."

"She can't be a submissive if she's free to do as she chooses."

"She chooses to submit to me, Mike.  And I gratefully accept her
submission."

Never argue with a lawyer.  Mike was quiet for a time.  Domination and
submission relationships aren't covered in law school.

"Look, Mike," I said.  "You know I'm not as into the scene as you are.
But as an outsider looking in, let me tell you; Sam and I have joy
beyond belief.  She sometimes rubs me the wrong way, as I do her, I'm
sure.  I don't feel it's right to impose my will on her, she has to
want it, or it's just no good.  So we talk and try to work through it.
We find a common point, and it's pretty damn good for us both.

"The way I see it, a submissive girl is something special, a treasure
box filled with wonders.  You look inside, examine a piece.  Maybe
smooth the rough edges a little.  Help her make things fit better, help
her better understand herself.  Then you sit back and revel in the
glory of her surrendering her most precious thing to you, her very
being."

"You're wrong, Jim.  Domination is the taking of another, by force if
necessary."

"That works for a lot of people, but it's not me, Mike.  What Sam and I
have may not be true D and S, but it works for us.  I don't ask for
things she cannot do, but what I do ask for, she willingly gives."

I asked him, "What happened anyway that got you so pissed?"

Mike stood up.  "I'll let the girls tell you.  Come on."

Mike and I went down to the dungeon.  Inside, Lisa was standing beside
one wall, Liselle, the other.  The girl's collars were locked to rings
in the walls.  I went to Samantha's cage while Mike unlocked Lisa to
bring her over.

Sam sat in her cage, looking sad.  I bent to her and reached inside to
stroke her cheek.  She'd been crying.  She reached for my arm, the
handcuffs still on her wrists, jangling.

"It's O.K. Sam," I said.  "I'm here now."

Mike brought Lisa over and had her kneel on the bare floor beside the
cage.  He had her tell me about what went on this afternoon.  I'd
noticed the rope braided up in Sam's hair, and I sat in wonder as Lisa
revealed Sam's time with the two girls.  When she told of the cum-
soaked shirt fight, my shirt, I burst out laughing.  Laughter in a
dungeon, another no-no I guessed.

"It's not funny, Jim," Mike chastened me.  "Unauthorized horseplay in
my dungeon!  It's unacceptable.  I left orders that Sam not be
disturbed down here and then I find that my girls had come down not
once but twice today.  You heard what they did to her Jim; you think
that's right?  You think it's funny?"

Lisa cringed as I stood up to face Mike.  I'd just about had enough.  I
had a mind to take Samantha and leave, but she wasn't going anywhere
soon, with that big lock on the cage door.

"For Fuck's sake, Mike!" I almost roared.  "Sam.  Did you have fun with
the twins this afternoon?"

"Yes Master, I did."

"Lisa, did you have a nice time?"

In a shy voice, "Yes I did."

I called over to Liselle.  "And you Liselle, did you enjoy the time
with Samantha this afternoon?"

A loud voice.  "Yes, Sir."

I turned to Mike.  He was fuming.  "Let's go back upstairs," I
suggested.

Mike turned to go, then paused.  He reached into a pocket and tossed a
key towards Lisa.

"Unlock your sister."

Upstairs in the kitchen I poured some wine for Mike and myself.  I sat
at the table with Mike and I waited for him to say something.  When it
seemed he would not do so, I spoke up.

"I'm starved, I'll go order us some Chinese."

"Yes, O.K." Mike answered with a touch of, I don't know, sadness in his
voice.

I placed the call to the Golden Dragon for a delivery of several
dishes, then I sat with Mike once more.

"You remember Beckey?" he asked me.  "The one I went with in high
school?"

"Short redhead with the freckles?"

"That's her.  The things she'd do just 'cause I told her to.  She was
my first taste of a subbie girl, and man, did she turn me on."

Mike paused, lost in thought.  I waited him out.

"Remember Judy?  I took her to your and Sue's wedding."

"I remember a brown doggie collar, and everyone trying not to stare."

He laughed, an unhappy sound.  I'd never seen my buddy Mike looking so
glum.

"And Wendy, and Nikki," he went on.  "Patrice, and Ingrid the big Swiss
blond...Janice?  It was always so great with a new girl Jim.  So much
to do, so much to find out.  Kim, the exhibitionist, she could refuse
me nothing.  The merest suggestion and off she'd go, no matter how
perverse or bizarre."

"You've always had a pretty girl hanging off your arm," I softly said.
"Mike, what's wrong?  What's got you so down?  I've never seen you like
this."

"No Jim, you never have."  A pause.  "It would last maybe a year, two
tops.  Then, one day, I'd come home and she'd be gone.  Sometimes a
note, more often, not.  I'd open the door and I'd instantly know, it's
over.  She's gone.

"I'd be down for weeks, sometimes months at a time.  I couldn't read,
I'd barely eat.  Nothing gave me joy after losing what I'd had.  Then,
one day, at the grocery store or even walking down the street, I'd see
a girl and it was like an alarm went off in my head.  This is one.
We'd make eye contact and I'd hold her gaze.  I'd say something.  She'd
answer.  And around we'd go until...

It was a few minutes before Mike spoke again.  "How long were you and
Susan together, eight years?"

"Nine."

"I'll bet you'd still be together if not for that stupid plane crash.
And now there is Samantha.  I can see that you two have what it takes
to stay happily together for a long, long time."

I was beginning to see what Mike was getting at.  I thought that I was
starting to understand.

Mike continued.  "Lisa and Liselle are the best.  There's nothing more
I could ask of two beautifully submissive girls.  In my bed at night,
whether we're cuddled close and sleeping, or doing stuff, you know?
Those two make me crazy sometimes.

"But subs need rules, Jim.  They need orders, and they're expected to
carry them out.  That's why we're called dominants; we take charge and
make things so, they just have to do it.  When I say something is going
to be this way, I expect that it will be that way.  Yet, you aren't
like that.  You go with a bare outline and just let things happen.

"Like Sam's last session with the whip.  You called saying you were
going to whip your wife and wanted the twins to watch over her.  O.K.
But then, as I heard, it was Liselle who whipped her while you watched.
You say one thing and then do something else.  How can you just shift
gears like that with a sub?  Where's the control, with you or with
her?"

"Mike," I said.  "It's not so much a control thing with me.  It is to a
point, but I work with a greater goal in mind.  It's doing something
purely for pleasure, working an idea up and then doing it.  I change
things along the way because I see a better direction to take.  Liselle
said that you'd suggested she do Sam and Lisa at the same time, and I
thought, hell, why not."

"I suggested she do Lisa while you whipped Samantha."

"Well, maybe I misunderstood.  The point is, the evening went
swimmingly and everyone was happy afterwards.  You've gotta understand,
Mike; Sam and I do things for both our pleasures, not to rigidly adhere
to some D and S manual, going by chapter and verse.  How we get there
is not so important as the results afterwards.  Basking in the
afterglow of a scene that went fantastic, that's the important thing.

"Samantha might ask me to do something, or I'll get an idea somewhere,
and we talk about it.  I don't make her do things; we agree to do them
together.  On that last canoe trip of ours, I'd planned things that
didn't quite work the way I thought, but we made up other things as the
trip went along that worked out even better.  Even today, I thought the
girls would get together for a while, maybe cuddle and stuff.  I never
expected it would go so far, but look what happened.  They all had a
great time.  Sam especially so, from the sounds of it."

The doorbell rang, the food had arrived.  Mike said he'd get it and
asked me to fetch Liselle.  So downstairs I went, to see the twins
sitting around Samantha's cage.  Not touching each other, just sitting
there, with my pretty Samantha inside.  Sam's hands were still cuffed
together and I picked up the key to finally take the handcuffs off her.

"Mike wants to see you," I said to Liselle.  "I think to help with
supper."

"Yes, Sir," she said, standing.

"I think things are going to be O.K." I told the twins, and Sam.

"Is Mike still mad?" Sam asked me.

"I don't think he's so much mad, as upset."

Samantha's wrists had big red marks on them from being in cuffs the
whole day.  Her wrists were a bit sore too.  I gave her tummy a feel,
then I said I had to go see Mike.  As I was going up the stairs, he and
Liselle met me on the way down, Mike carrying a big tray and Liselle
with the bag of food.

"There's another tray of bowls and stuff, Jim.  Could you get it?"

On the table was a tray of cups and a teapot, small bowels, spoons and
such.  I carried it downstairs.  Mike had set the large tray on top of
Sam's cage and the bag of food was sitting on it.  Mike and the twins
had seated themselves on cushions around Samantha.  I went over to them
and set my tray on the floor nearby, then I took a seat on a cushion
beside Lisa.

"Liselle," Mike asked, "could you go to the other room and fill the
teapot, please?"

Mike had a tap in the bar that gave out steaming hot water, so she
wasn't long in returning.  She placed the pot on the tray on the cage,
then sat beside her master.

"Girls, and Jim, I'd like to apologize for my outburst this afternoon,"
Mike stated.  "Samantha and Jim are guests in our home, and if they are
content with what happened here today, then I will try to be more
understanding.  Now, let's eat."

At first, I thought Liselle had miscounted the bowels.  Lisa handed
them out while Liselle opened the containers of food.  Sam, not getting
a bowl, looked through the bars of her cage, expectantly.  Lisa spooned
some rice into her bowl, then moved the spoon down and into Sam's cage.
Sam took a mouthful.  Liselle picked up two ribs, passing one to
Samantha.  And so the meal went, each of us passing bits of food under
the "table" to our treasured pet Samantha.  She took sips of tea from
our teacups when one of us would offer.

It takes a big man to admit he's wrong; it takes a bigger one to
apologize for it.  There is no manual for dominants; we're mostly left
to figure it out on our own.  When you make a mistake in your job, you
can usually fix it without any trouble.  But when dealing with another
person, who's trusted you with their life, their soul; errors in
judgement become much more difficult to smooth over.

As the meal went along, the tensions that had built up over the day
started to dissipate.  Samantha complained when I finished a sparerib
and tossed the bone inside her cage.

"I thought doggies liked bones," I said, jokingly.

Liselle nibbled all the meat off a chicken wing, then flipped the bone
at Sam.  Sam's cage was soon a mess as most of the bones ended up
inside with her.  I even saw Mike crack a smile as Sam ate bits of food
handed to her and we'd toss in the empty containers for her to play
with.


[part 3]

By the time the meal was over, the area of Sam's cage was an utter mess
of bones, bits of food, and squashed containers that Sam had sat on.
Mike stood up to go wash his hands in the sink in the other corner of
the dungeon.  He returned and picked up the cushion he'd been sitting
on, and brushed off the crumbs.

"O.K. girls.  I want this area scrubbed clean.  Jim, your girl looks a
little grubby, should the twins give her a wash too?"

I got up.  "I'd noticed a bit of a doggie smell.  That's a good idea."

Mike bowed to his girls.  "Ladies."

While the girls got busy getting all the garbage out of Sam's cage,
Mike motioned me towards another part of the room.  We sat down on some
benches and watched the activity.  He spoke to me in a quiet voice so
as not be overheard.

"I don't know, Jim.  Old dogs and new tricks, all that.  I've been
noticing it with the girls lately; things just don't have that sparkle
they once did.  I'd sometimes catch them about to do something, and it
would just seem like they were trying to get my goat, just trying to
see how far they could push before I'd get all riled up.  I'd keep them
to regular discipline sessions, but it was having less and less effect.
Maybe I will try it your way for a while."

"Look, Mike," I said.  "Don't think I have any of the answers.  I
sometimes feel lost too.  Some girls crave the constant discipline;
others don't need or don't want it.  Even I've seen that Lisa and
Liselle look alike, but they're two distinctly different people inside.
Sam and I hit it off because we were lucky, that's all.  If she needed
a stronger hand, I don't think I could give it.  But we've talked about
it, and maybe she's had to compromise.  People don't always fit into
the mould you have, but a bit of give and take, a little all around
willingness to compromise, and hopefully, things work out."

"Maybe you're right Jim.  It's hard to admit I may have had it wrong
all these years, but I simply can't risk losing these two."

"It's hard work," I said, "just staying on top of one girl, never mind
having to deal with two.  Just lighten up a little.  I'm sure they'll
act up a bit.  Go with it, see where it takes you.  You might find
surprises you'd never expected."

The twins had moved out all the cushions and my bedroll, Sam's blanket
was pulled out of the cage, and all the garbage from supper swept up.
Liselle had found some rope and had stood on the cage to loop it over a
hook.  She tied Sam's hair braid to the end and I watched her pull
Sam's hair up out of the cage, drawing her head up to the top.  Lisa
turned on the hose and let the water run warm, then began spraying down
Samantha inside, neatly avoiding getting her hair wet.  Liselle reached
in with a soapy washcloth to scrub Sam down.

After washing Samantha, the twins did themselves, then scrubbed the
cage and the floor around it.  Lisa used the hose again to rinse off
the other two girls, herself, and the floor.  A towel was handed to
Sam, then the twins used another to dry themselves.  They wiped down
the cage and the glass panels around the area.  A switch was turned on,
which started a fan blowing warm air over the cage to dry everything
up.  Sam's braid was released.

I went off for a shower, and when I returned, everyone had cleared out.
Sam was sitting in her cage, basking in the warm breeze from the dryer.
I switched it off, got my bedroll, and lay down beside her.  A clean,
soft fluffy blanket lay beside the cage and I pushed it through to
Samantha.  I had to help get it spread out under her, since she didn't
have much room to move in there.  I grabbed the rope tied into her hair
and gave it a tug.

"So, you had a nice time with the twins today."

"It was awesome, master.  But why was Mike so angry?"

I tried to explain, but it was hard.  I told Sam a bit about the girls
Mike used to have, and how I thought his rigid adherence to discipline
may had finally drove them to seek another.

"I know you'd maybe like me to take a firmer hand with you, Sam, but
it's really not something that I can do."

"I thought at the beginning that's what I wanted, but you've allowed me
to make my own choices, and some of those were ones I'd never thought
I'd make.  Like in our basement with the twins.  I never thought I
could make love with two other pretty girls watching, but when it
happened, it just felt so right.  Seeing Lisa over your face getting
what you've given me so many times, I felt happy that she was able to
share in the love that we have for each other."

"You're the greatest, Sam."

"As are you, Master."

I got up to dim the lights, then returned to my wife's side.  Sam was
fidgeting with her hands behind her.  She tried to roll over, but her
tummy got in the way, so she scooted around to face away from me.  I
saw she'd threaded the rope from her hair through her bracelets behind
her.

"Could you tie this for me, please?"

"Sure, Sam."

Next morning, I untied her and kissed her good bye.  I said I'd rather
she not do anything with the twins that day, just talk if they came to
visit.  We'd maybe do something on the weekend, I said, which would be
in two days.

Upstairs was deserted, so I just grabbed a glass of juice, then hit the
trail.  I had breakfast with Carlos and the guys at the hospital.  A
truckload of new terminals had arrived last night, so our work was
planned out for the next few days.  Nigel had got the new system
running last night, and would be loading the software while the rest of
us installed terminals around the building.

I called Mike around noon, and Lisa or Liselle picked up.

"Lisa?"  It was Liselle.  "I won't make it for lunch, we're really busy
here.  How's Samantha?"

"She's fine, Sir.  We were just talking with her a while ago."

"Good.  I'll see you at dinner."

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

Liselle's voice dropped.  "My sister and I wish to thank you, Sir."

"For what?"

"You know.  For talking to Master last evening."

"I..." My voice dropped too.  "I only want the best for the three of
you, Liselle."

"I know, Sir.  We'll see you later."

The twins had prepared a wonderful feast for dinner that evening, which
we all ate downstairs, again using Sam's cage for a table.  A big board
was placed upon it and chairs were placed around.  Even a candle on
top.  Samantha, underneath, was fed by our hands slipping bits of food
to her.  She'd take the food from my fingers with her mouth, lapping up
any juices or gravy from my fingers with her tongue.

Mike seemed in a much better mood, and the twins were on their best
behaviour as well.  I silently wished them the kinds of peace and joy
that Samantha and I shared.

The following evening, I spent some time sitting around upstairs with
Mike and the twins, knocking around ideas to further torture my wife.
Mike mostly sat quietly in his big chair in the corner of his living
room, listening as the girls and I discussed what we could do.  I could
see there'd be some unease at times, when Mike would speak up over some
point, and the twins would become quiet for a time.  Discussing a scene
as equals was new territory for them all.

"Lisa," Mike said, "Samantha was quite taken with the way you were all
trussed up tight inside the cage last time.  Do you think she'd be
interested in trying it like that herself?"

Lisa began speaking, before she realized she'd actually been asked to
give an opinion on something.

"I remember she seem...She seemed very interested that time, Sir."

"I'm not sure about the dildo in back," I said.  "Even with the cage
bars between us, I've been hitting bottom lately.  I don't want her to
do herself an injury up there."

Liselle spoke up.  "We have a thicker one that's not as long."

"That might be better," I said.

"What about the strain on her back with the weight of her belly hanging
down?" asked Liselle.

Lisa spoke up.  "We could use several loops of rope, evenly spaced
along her body, to help support her."

Even without the presence of Samantha, but with the help of Mike's
girls who'd already done time in the cage and knew what to expect, we'd
discussed the scene, contributed ideas, and had come up with a plan
that I felt Sam would enjoy.  Mike was smiling, the girls were smiling,
and so was I.

"Liselle?" Mike asked.  "Could you go in the bedroom and bring a six-
foot chain and two locks, please?"

Liselle jumped up.  "Yes, Sir."

When she'd gone, Mike held out his hand towards Lisa.  From her chair,
she went to her knees, then moved the short distance to Mike's chair.
Kneeling beside his legs, she placed her head and hands in his lap.

Mike tenderly stroked the girl's hair.

Liselle returned to kneel on the other side of Mike's legs and handed
the requested items to him.  Mike took one end of the steel chain and
locked it to the ring on Liselle's collar.  Lifting Lisa's head, he
locked the other end to hers.  The twins looked at one another,
fingering the links of the chain that connected them together.

"Stand up, girls," Mike told them.  "Let Jim see how nice you look."

The two girls got up and moved to stand before me.  The sight of the
two identical twins chained together took my breath away.  Their long
blond hair and perfect bodies.  The shiny steel collar on Lisa, the
chain locked and hanging down to her pussy, then back up and locked to
the matching collar on Liselle.  The girls posed for me, moving a bit,
the chain tinkling.  Stunning.

Mike raised his hand and the twins came to him.  He reached out to take
hold of the chain.  He pulled slightly and the girls sank to their
knees before him.  They brought their heads together on Mike's lap as
he held the chain close to their collars in one hand.  Liselle reached
up to unfasten Mike's pants and he lifted his butt up off the chair to
allow the twins to pull them down.

"Err, I think I'll go see Samantha now," I said, standing.

"Good night, Jim," Mike said.

"Good night, Sir," said the girls, Lisa's voice a bit muffled.

Down in the dungeon, I told Samantha what we'd planned to do to her.  I
mentioned the shorter dildo, and the rope idea to help support her
inside the cage.

"I'll be just like Lisa was?" she asked.  "For how long?"

"As long as you want," I said.  "So long as you can stand it, I guess.
Now, if you get into any trouble with the baby or anything, I want you
to say so.  I'll want someone here at all times, ready to release you.
If you just need a rest, we'll let you go, then after, if you're O.K.,
you can continue if you want.  All right?"

"Yes."

"Good."

I took a quick shower in the bathroom in the other room, then I made up
my bed beside Samantha.  Sam was lying on her side facing me, and I
reached through the cage bars to stroke her big tummy.  She placed her
hands on my arm to press my hand to her, and I felt our baby squirming
around inside her.  I pressed my face to the bars, Sam moved her head
closer, and we kissed.  We slept holding each other's hand.

In the morning, I dressed quietly so as not to disturb Sam, then I went
upstairs.  In the kitchen, Lisa and Liselle had a coffee ready for me,
and had made me breakfast as well.  They'd both had to get up to do it;
the six-foot chain was still locked to both their collars.

"It wasn't necessary for you to wake up early just to make breakfast
for me," I told them.

"We're pleased that we may do this small thing for you, Sir," Liselle
said.

"Well, thank you, girls.  I truly do appreciate all that you've done
for Samantha and me."

Lisa said, "Master asked me to enquire of you if we could begin putting
the restraints on Samantha this afternoon so she's readied for your
return.  "

"You may prepare her inside the cage, but leave the two dildos for when
I get back.  I don't want to miss the look on her face when she
realises she's stuck like that."

"Very good, Sir," Liselle said.  "I'm sure that her reaction will be
interesting."

The crew took it easy that day at work, since the project was ahead of
schedule, and it was Friday.  Nigel had given us the weekend off, and
we all were looking forward to a nice two days holiday.  Around five,
we called it quits for the day, and I jumped into my Jeep for the drive
to Mike's.

I let myself in, and as I passed by Mike's study, I saw him on the
phone with someone, but he motioned that I go downstairs.  Liselle was
in the kitchen, tending to dinner, and she crossed the room to give me
a peck on the cheek.

"We're glad you're home early today," she said.  "Miss Samantha is
quite eager to have her bondage completed.  She has already eaten
something, Sir."

"Thanks Liselle.  I'd best go see her."

Down in the dungeon, Lisa was keeping Sam company.  Sam was on her
hands and knees inside the cage, her bum resting on a steel bar that
was clamped to the sides.  Coils of thick, soft rope went around and
around her body, starting at her hips, just under her tummy, and looped
up over a bar, then back around her.  The rope continued over the next
bar, then around her again, a little higher up.  A few more loops
around her belly to just under her breasts, then a bar was skipped
where her breasts were, leaving them nicely exposed.  Two more loops
supported her chest and shoulders.  I reached in to give her nipples a
squeeze.  Her hair was still in a long braid with the rope woven in,
and it had been pulled up through the top of the cage and tied off.
This served nicely to support her head.

I'd been finding tie wraps in my pockets each night, and had been
dumping them in the corner beside my bag.  Tie wraps are strips of
plastic that you wrap a bundle of cables with and push one end through
a catch in the other end.  You draw the strip up tight around the
cables and it locks in place to hold them.  Two of these had been used
to attach Sam's bracelets to the sides of the cage.  She could raise
her hands a little, up and down the cage bar, with the plastic loop
sliding on the bar.  That was about the limits of her movement.

Around Sam's ankles were locked the heavy shackles that I'd seen on
Lisa.  They looked somewhat tight, since Sam's ankles had swollen a bit
from her being pregnant.  A short bar led from each of the shackles to
a clamp that was bolted to the bars of the cage on either side.  I saw
that Sam had her old blanket back, washed, and she knelt on two small
cushions.  I went to my clothing bag and found my laundry had also been
done.  I pulled out shorts and a shirt.

"I'm just going to take a quick shower, Lisa; I won't be long."

After I'd cleaned up and dressed, I went back to see Sam.  When I
reached into her cage to stroke her cheek, she turned her head and took
my finger into her mouth.  She lovingly licked and sucked on my finger
as I watched her rub her bum on the bar behind her.  Besides Sam being
tied tightly inside of a locked cage, which turned me on plenty, the
simple act of her making love to my finger started to get me aroused as
hell.  I looked up at Lisa somewhat embarrassed, and re-arranged myself
inside my shorts.  Lisa smiled.

"Miss Samantha has eaten a light snack," Lisa said.  "Does she wish
supper now, or would she like to finish with the bondage?"

I pulled out my finger.  "Sam, are you hungry, or do you want the
dildos put in now?"

It took a moment for Sam to settle down.  "Could I have a glass of
apple juice first?"

Lisa stood up to get Sam's juice, and while she was gone, I asked Sam
how she was.  She said she was doing just fine.  I told her we would
put the two cocks into her for the evening and then she could have a
break later on to eat something.  Lately she'd been uncomfortable
eating big meals, preferring to snack several times during the day
instead.  I slid my hand under the coils of rope to feel her tummy.  I
let my hand rest there for a while, feeling Sam's regular breathing
pushing her tummy against my hand.  Then, I felt a small tremor as Gwen
shifted her position inside a bit.

Lisa returned with a glass of juice and a straw, and she held the glass
for Samantha while she drank the apple juice through the straw.  When
she'd finished, Lisa set the glass down on the table beside the wall.
She picked up a black rubber dildo with a clamp attached to the end.

The dildo was only around five inches long, but was thick enough that
Sam would certainly be aware of its presence in her pussy.  Lisa gave
me a look, and I nodded my head.  We both went to the rear of the cage.

I reached inside and lifted Sam's bum up off the crossbar.  Lisa gently
worked the rubber cock into my wife's cunt, then I let Sam lower
herself until the clamp on the dildo seated on the crossbar.  Lisa
turned the bolt with her fingers to snug the dildo in place.

We watched as Samantha rocked herself forward, and the tip of the dildo
slipped out of her.  She moved back, shifting a bit to line herself up,
then took it into her again.  Lisa stood up to go to the table, and she
picked up some chain.

Liselle and Mike had come down to watch.  Liselle helped her sister get
the neck chain adjusted and locked around Samantha's neck.  They got
Sam to move fully back on the rear dildo, then the long steel bar was
pushed through the cage in front of Sam's face and they locked down the
clamps on the ends with a small wrench.  The hollow dildo was removed
from the front of the cage, disconnected from the water bottle, and
positioned before Samantha's mouth.  Sam grinned at me, then opened her
mouth to take the thing inside her.

The neck chains were loosely fastened to the front bar to let Sam get a
feel for the two rubber cocks that were sticking into her at both ends.
Sam began to rock herself back and forth, her body supported by the web
of rope around her.  She still had the use of her arms with the loose
tie wraps through her bracelets and around the side bars, and her hands
were holding onto the bars, giving her some leverage to push back on
the rear dildo.

"How you doing, Sam?" I asked.  "You O.K.?"

A muffled moan was my reply.  Mike told me that dinner was ready, and
he asked Lisa to stay behind to watch Samantha while we ate.  Up in the
kitchen, Liselle served Mike and I dinner, then she fixed a plate for
herself.  She ate quickly, then went down to let Lisa come up and have
her dinner with us.

"Jim," Mike asked me.  "How long do you think Sam will stay like that
down there?"

"I don't know.  She seems to have settled in nicely."

"Well the thing is, the girls and I have to take a trip the week after
next.  A fellow in Seattle who does the same kind of work as I do has
contacted me to do a job with him."

Mike told me about the guy, a pro dom like Mike who'd do things for
women wanting to experience a domination type scene, but needed it done
in a safe environment and in a discreet manner.

"The guy's name is Howard Cole, and he lives in Seattle," Mike said.
"He has a girlfriend who works with him, and five middle aged and quite
well off ladies had been asking him to set up a pirate, kidnapping sort
of thing for them.  One of the girls was someone who I'd done a scene
for a while back, and she put Mr. Cole on to me.  We've exchanged a few
e-mails now, and we've put together an idea that should please the five
ladies."

"Sounds interesting."

"Howard knows a fellow in Vancouver that owns a big sailing ship.  A
big old wooden kind that's constantly in need of repair.  For a nice
fee, the guy will take us out to sea to "capture" the five women off
their boat.  Then he'll drop us all off on some little island that will
be the pirates' lair.  We'll have our way with the ladies on the ship,
and then even more fun once we reach the island.  He thinks the whole
thing will take three, maybe four weeks."

"So Sam needs to finish with the cage before you all leave," I guessed.

"You're both welcome to use the house for as long as you want," Mike
said.  "But with the twins and me not here, and with you working, it
might not be good for her to be left alone down there."

"Not the way she is now," I agreed.

"Sorry, Jim.  I know you both wanted this, but this job's just too
juicy to pass up.  When Howard found out about Lisa and Liselle being
identical twins, he flipped.  For the start, they're both going to play
one role, the pirate who never sleeps, the one who seems to be in two
places at once.  Should be a hoot."

"It's alright, Mike, Sam'll probably burn out in a few days anyway.  I
really can't see her lasting more than a week, all trussed up like she
is."

We finished dinner and went down to see how Sam was doing.  Liselle had
tightened the chains that held Sam's head closer to the dildo, so she
wasn't able to pull back enough to get it out.  When she'd rock herself
forward though, the short one in back was able to slip out of her
pussy.  Mike had the girls adjust the crossbars in front and back
closer in.  Sam seemed to enjoy it more that way, and she began to rock
herself a bit faster against the rubber cocks.  However, the one in
back would still slip out at times and she'd stab herself on it.

Her labia rings could have been used as convenient anchor points, but
the chance of her doing a serious injury back there was just too great.
The problem was solved by tying rope around Sam's thighs and the
crossbar so she couldn't pull herself off the dildo.  She was then free
to thrash around as much as she wanted to without having either cock
slip out.

The four of us were all standing around watching Samantha in the cage,
and I could tell she was rather uncomfortable with us there.  I knelt
down to look at her.

"Are you all right Sam?" I asked.

A garbled, "Mmmm Mmmm."

"Would you like to be alone for a while, just have me stay here with
you?"

Sam grinned around the dildo in her mouth and nodded her head slightly.
The chains around her neck jingled gaily.  Mike and the twins cleared
out, leaving me alone with my wife.

I reached into the cage to stroke Sam's cheek, and as she rocked
forward, I felt the dildo fill up her mouth.  She opened her mouth wide
and took it deeper into her, then made a strangled sounding groan.  Sam
moved backwards off the cock in her mouth while the one in back filled
her pussy.  She pushed her tongue past the dildo to lick my wrist.
Then she smiled a crooked smile and began humping back and forth on the
two rubber cocks.  I had little else to do but watch her.

Actually, there was one thing I could do, and I retrieved a towel from
my clothes bag, placing it under Sam's bum to catch her juices that
were already starting to drip on her blanket.  I watched her pussy open
up to swallow the thick dildo, and I saw her rings slide along its
slick surface as she took it in.  Then slowly she withdrew from it as
she worked the other one down into her throat.

Samantha started to rock herself faster and faster on the two rubber
cocks.  I was longing to touch her, to feel some of the feelings she
was getting from the dildos and from being tied tightly inside the
cage.  Even just being locked inside the thing for the past five days
had seemed to do such wonderful things for her.  Not once had she
complained or so much as questioned why she had to remain stuck inside
the little steel cage.  Right from the start, she'd simply accepted it
as her place in the world.  A little, small space that she'd occupy for
a time.

Sam slowed down as the first orgasm began to take hold.  She pressed
back on the rear cock, grinding her hips to move the thing around
inside her, and she began a long, low moan.  She'd jerk forward a bit,
then press backward on the cock.  Her moaning would change pitch as the
cock in front was forced deeper into her mouth.  I watched her back
arch upwards, lifting her tummy clear of the ropes around it.  She held
herself up as the full force of her cum washed through her, her
energetic wailing loud, despite the rubber dildo in her mouth.

Sam's belly crashed down against the cushioning web of ropes as her
orgasm subsided and her muscles relaxed, a low shuddering moan escaping
past the dildo in her mouth.  I reached into her cage to gently cup a
breast in my hand.  Aftershocks made her body twitch and shake, and her
breathing was fast and ragged sounding.  Yet, in but a few moments,
she'd regained control of herself and she started to gently rock
herself back and forth once more.  I pushed both my arms inside to let
her two nipples brush against my palms as she moved herself against the
two cocks.

Even with her nipples stroking against my hands, it took Sam a bit
longer for her to make herself cum again.  Yet this one was a doozey.
When it took her, she threw herself against the rear cock and screamed.
She then leapt forward, letting the front one spear down her throat
while a jet of pussy juice squirted out of her, landing a good three
feet past the back of the cage.  I'd moved my hands from her breasts to
around her body to try to guide her movements, but as much as she was
able to, she was a flurry of movement inside the small cage.  She
bounced herself between the two rubber cocks, ending up with the front
one stuck deep into her, and she couldn't breath.  I eased her back,
and she groaned a deeply satisfied groan.

Samantha's mouth was dry and she was covered in sweat.  I brought my
arms out of the cage, then unhooked the water bottle from the front.  I
took it to the sink to fill it, then I brought it back and pushed the
tube into the front dildo.  After I'd hung the bottle back on the cage,
Sam sucked greedily on the rubber cock until the water began to flow
into her mouth.  She drank over a quarter of the water, then eased
herself back and smiled at me.

I stared into her bright eyes.  Either she'd had enough for now, or she
had not, and wanted to go again.  Sam must have sensed what I was
waiting for and she wriggled her bottom on the dildo as her eyes
pleaded with me.

"One more, Sam, then you take a break."

Her eyes lit up and she made a purring sound against the dildo.  This
time I positioned myself behind her, careful not to step in the puddle
she'd made.  I reached under the rear crossbar and got my finger on her
clit.  I began to stroke her on that little bundle of nerve endings.

Sam's energy was pretty much spent, and she was only able to gently
thrust herself between the two cocks.  But with only one finger on her,
I managed to coax another crashing orgasm to rip through her.  After
she'd done, Sam lay motionless in the web of ropes, gasping for air.  I
went to her head and loosened the bolt holding the dildo to the front
bar.  I unclipped her neck chains from the bar, then lifted her head a
bit to withdraw the rubber cock from her mouth.  I found a small
cushion nearby to place on the bar so Samantha could rest her head on
it.  Then I sat with her for a few minutes until her even breathing
told me she'd fallen asleep.

I got up to quietly leave the dungeon and go see what our hosts were up
to.  I found Mike and the twins in the kitchen, having apple pie and
coffee.  While the girls fixed me some, I told them that Samantha
seemed to be enjoying herself, and she was taking a little nap now.
After the twins had finished eating, they went down to watch over her,
leaving Mike and me alone.  Both girls had to go, their collars were
locked together again with the long chain between them.  Lisa took a
piece of pie down for Sam, Liselle a glass of milk.

"You know, Jim," Mike said to me, "we were just talking about the job
coming up in Seattle.  The girls really gave me a few good ideas."

"No one knows better what a submissive likes than another submissive."

"The girls seemed really pleased that I'm allowing them to help out in
planning this scene.  I'd just like to say thanks, for, you know."

"Mike, if you and the girls find the kinds of happiness Sam and I have,
then that's all the thanks I need."

A bit later on, I went down to see Sam, and found her still asleep, her
head resting on the pillow on the crossbar with the twins sitting by
her side.  I sat down near Sam's head to reach inside and softly stroke
her cheek.  Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at me.

"Is it morning, Master?"

"No, Sam.  It's around eleven at night."

"Oh.  Am I going to sleep like this?"

"I could put the cock back in your mouth if you want."

The twins came over to me and they each gave me a little kiss
goodnight.  They reached into the cage to softly stroke my wife, and
Sam made gentle cooing sounds as she worked her bum on the cock in
back.  Then the girls stood up and left us alone.  I unrolled my
sleeping bag and the pad, spreading it out beside Sam's cage.  I fed
Sam her apple pie and held the glass of milk to let her drink.  I held
the bedpan beneath her rear so she could pee, and I emptied it, then I
dimmed the lights, got undressed, and crawled into bed.  Reaching up, I
laid Sam's pillow on the crossbar and she settled her head upon it.

"Good night, Samantha," I said.

"Good night, Master."


I guess one big disadvantage of being pregnant was with a baby growing
inside your tummy your insides get all squashed out of the way to make
room.  This fact became painfully apparent as Sunday wore on, and Sam,
who badly needed to shit, just couldn't manage it with her body held
horizontal inside the cage.  She was starting to get annoying cramps
and it wasn't being fun anymore.  Around noon, I finally had Lisa help
me get Sam's bondage off.  It was a couple hours later that Sam was
finally able to sit on her bedpan and make a big smelly crap.

Having Samantha locked inside Mike's cage was kind of fun, and Sam had
enjoyed the experience a lot, but I wasn't getting a whole lot of
enjoyment in having her so close yet unable to just take her in my arms
and make hot love to her any way I chose.  I didn't want to say
anything to her that would spoil her enjoyment, but she must have read
my mind.  In the afternoon, she asked me if she could get out of the
cage.

Sam was sitting on her blanket taking bites from a sandwich that I was
holding for her.  I'd used a tie wrap to join her bracelets together
behind her back.

"It's been a nice time Master and I've had fun, but my legs are
starting to get sore and I'd really like to stretch out.  It would be
nice to just get up and go for a walk.  You're not upset with me, are
you?"

"Of course not, Sam, why would I be upset?"

"Because I was only in here for a week.  Lisa was in for a month, and
she was locked up tight in here.  I barely lasted two days like that."

"Sam, it's not a contest to see who can take it the longest.  If you've
had fun, but now you've had enough, then that's good.  I'll drive home
and get the key, then I'll let you out.  It'll be kind of nice to be
able to hold you again.  I've missed you, Sam."

I found my cutters and snipped the tie on Sam's bracelets.  Then I
pushed my arms into the cage.  Sam pushed hers out, and we awkwardly
hugged each other.  Sam pressed her face to the bars and I kissed her.

"I'll tell you what," I said as we drew apart.  "I'll go get the key
now, but you have to stay in there until tomorrow evening.  The girls
will clean you up for me tomorrow, and when I finish work, I'll let you
out.  Then we'll go home.  That will make it over a full week.  O.K.?"

"All right, master."

She made it sound like she was sad about having to stay in another day,
but I caught her smiling.  Upstairs, I found Mike and the girls and
told them of our plans.  The twins were more than eager to have
Samantha to themselves the next day, and promised to take good care of
her and have her ready for me to take home.  I made the drive home, and
along the way I stopped to buy some food and stuff for our return.

The two keys to the big lock were right where I'd left them and I
lifted them off the nail and hooked them to my key ring.  On the drive
back, my eyes kept being drawn to them hanging in the ignition, and I
couldn't stop thinking about the wondrous creature they'd release from
Mike's cage.

It was awfully tempting to get Sam out right then and have my wicked
way with her, but we had a quiet candle lit supper down there, just her
and I, and we sat around talking for the rest of the evening.

Next day it was tough keeping my mind on my work, and I could hardly
wait for the day to be over.  I met Lisa in the kitchen, and she told
me they'd prepared a going away dinner for us.  She and I went down to
the dungeon to release Samantha.

Liselle stood when Lisa and I approached the cage.  Samantha looked
radiant inside it.  She was sitting on a silk pillow, and she'd been
scrubbed from head to toe.  Her hair had been washed, dried, and
brushed out, and it flowed down her back and sides, spilling off the
pillow to fan out on the floor around her.  Her nails were trimmed and
polished, painted a deep red colour.  Her face glowed, and her big
tummy looked delicious.  I looked at it a bit closer.

Samantha's belly button used to be a cute dimple in her tummy, and now
it had popped out.  Sam saw me staring and she moved her hand to cover
it.  I had to touch it, so I went to her and pushed my arm inside her
cage.  I stroked my fingertips over the little bump.

"Sam, that's so cute.  This means the baby's done cooking and she's
ready to come out."

"But there's still a month and a half till I'm due," she said.

"I'm just joking," I said.  "But I think it means you're as big now as
you're going to get.  You look really nice Sam.  Let's get you out."

I pulled out my keys and fitted the one into the lock.  It popped open
with a solid thump.  After taking the lock off, I lifted the latch to
the cage door and swung it open.  Looking inside, I saw my pretty
Samantha for the first time in a week without looking at her through
steel bars.  I held out my hand to her and she took it.  She moved off
her pillow and onto her knees, then crawled out from Mike's cage.

Taking hold of her arms, I helped her to stand up.  Her knees, which
had been bent for a week, didn't take kindly to the sudden change in
her environment, and Sam stumbled against me.  I held her for a few
minutes to support her until her legs would support her weight.  Then I
took a step back to admire her radiant beauty.

Samantha shyly looked down as I cupped her belly in my hand, feeling
the funny little bump of her navel pressing against my palm.  I then
moved to her and tilted up her head to plant a loving kiss on her lips.

"You look really great, Sam," I whispered into her ear.

Sam hugged me tight.  "Thank you, Master.  I missed being able to hold
you."

"Come," I said to her.  "Let's have dinner, then we'll go home."

I held her close as we walked away from the little cage in the corner.
Along the wall was a big mirror, and Sam stopped in front to look at
herself in it.  She stood there, turning this way and that, her hair
swishing around her lovely body as I watched her.  She placed both
hands under her belly and struck a pose that brought tears to my eyes,
it was so beautiful.

"I look fat!" she said, bursting my bubble.

I put my arm around her.  "No, Samantha, you look wonderful.  Good
enough to eat."

The twins let out a giggle.  We all headed upstairs for the supper
they'd made for us.

We had a nice beef stew with fluffy dumplings and little potatoes and
carrots, with a delicious bottle of white wine to drink.  Sam ate
sparingly since she was quite uncomfortable now that her insides had
shifted to a different position after being let out of the cramped
cage, but she was happy and contented nonetheless.  I stood up with
glass in hand.

"Mike, Lisa, Liselle," I raised my glass to each in turn, "I'd like to
thank you all for letting us stay with you for this time.  I know it's
been an extra bother, but Samantha and I truly appreciate it."

"It really hasn't been a bother, Jim," Mike said.  "We've been pleased
to have you folks over.  Any time you wish to use the dungeon, just let
us know and we'll be happy to oblige."

"That may be difficult after the baby comes," I said.

"Well," Mike said, "you have three good baby sitters here, if mom and
dad ever need some time alone."

The twins smiled at us.  Sam began to smile as she realized that having
a baby around might not curtail our sex life that much after all.

After supper Samantha dressed in the jacket and boots she'd come here
with, then Mike and the girls went outside with us to see us off.  It
was a nice warm April evening, and most of the snow Sam saw when last
she'd been outside had melted.  We got in the truck and made an easy
drive home.

The house was chilly, and I first cranked up the heat.  Despite the
cool air, Sam shook off her jacket, since being nude for a week had
conditioned her to now being uncomfortable with clothes on.  I poured
her a glass of apple juice, and she made herself a cheese sandwich
while I took a fast shower.  I found her in our bed under the covers.
Naked myself, I slid into the warm nest alongside my wonderful wife.

I began with her face, kissing her eyelids and her cute nose.  Then I
feasted upon her lips for a while.  Across her chin and around her
neck, then down, down, down to her breasts.  Gently sucking on her
nipples, first one, then the other; they hardened beneath my tongue.

After several minutes, I left those lovely pleasure buds to travel
lower still.  Up and across the vast expanse of her taut tummy,
planting little kisses as I went, until I got to her inside out belly
button.  There I paused to softly caress it with my tongue, gently
sucking the strange little bump into my mouth.  She squirmed beneath
me.

"Stop," she cried.  More softly, "It tickles."

I followed the curve of her swollen belly down, lower still, to the
bushy part of her pussy.  I brought up my hand to stroke her furry
pelt, neatly trimmed around the edges, freshly shaved.  A slight musky
odour rose to greet me, to call to me with a hint of cloying sweetness.

I scooted down until my feet pushed out beneath the covers, until my
legs hung off the bed.  Between Samantha's lovely legs, I settled
myself.  I placed the tip of my nose against her, to gently rub her
there.  Inching ahead slightly, I pushed between her labia rings to
breath deep of her scent.  A tiny drop it must have been, placed there
by Lisa, or Liselle.  I must discover the name of the perfume, its
subtle fragrance, dew dampened raspberries on a fresh summer's morning,
making me dizzy with desire.  My tongue snaked out to lick Sam's soft
folds of skin, then up to play across her clit.

Samantha brought her legs up to give me better access, presenting
herself to me, open, ready, and delicious.  I licked the length of her
from bottom to top.  Sucking into my mouth her lips, one and then the
other, her little rings clicked against my back teeth.  My tongue
pushing inside was met with a warm gush of tangy tasting liquid as
Sam's hips traced a tiny circle around me.  Her hands came to my head,
fingers entwined into my hair, and Samantha came in a great big rush.
My world shrank to a tiny spot and my head followed her movements while
my tongue flicked madly across her clitoris.

Samantha's thighs gripped my head tight while she pulled on my hair to
hold me to her.  My cock pressed against the mattress and twitched in
pain.  My lust for her was driven into overdrive, and as even as Sam
was calling out in her desire I was on the move.  Up between those legs
of hers I rose until I faced her.  My cock at her entrance, I guided it
into her sweet, boiling pussy.  I tried to bend to kiss her lips, but a
big bulge was in the way, so I held myself above her body and drove my
cock inside her.

Sam brought her hands up my arms and held on to my shoulders as I began
to forcefully thrust into her.  However I quickly realised I was
hitting her cervix, and I slowed as to not hurt her, or Gwen.  This
would be one of the few times I'd fucked with Sam that she wasn't bound
in any way.  Her bracelets were in front of me, and I dipped my head to
kiss and lick her wrists, but the two rings of stainless steel, welded
on around them, had now become a part of her, and by themselves
couldn't count as bondage.

I was careful to be gentle, yet Sam quickly had another mind blowing
cum.  My cock gently stroked inside her while she writhed in ecstasy.
Her slippery wetness enveloped me and I began to press on with urgency.
Images of my pretty Samantha began to take shape in the back of my
mind.  Samantha bent over a rock, tied down.  A black rubber bit in her
mouth and her, smiling at me.  Her in the canoe chained hand and foot.
Helping me paddle into the unknown.  Her feet tied close and her
hanging upside down.  From a tree.  Swinging slightly in the breeze.
Samantha, sitting crouched in Mike's cage, a small and fragile creature
trapped inside a tiny, cramped, steel cage.  And Samantha beneath me
now, her bulging tummy rubbing against mine as I banged my cock into
her.  Into my beautiful Samantha.

I lowered my head to her chest, held on to her hips tightly.
Supporting myself up so as not to press on our child, I came and came
into the sweet creature that was my lovely wife Samantha.

We lay together on our sides, face to face, Sam's belly pressed against
mine.  I could feel the little creature inside, restlessly moving
around.

"I missed you Sam, having you close like this."

"I missed you too."  Sam was quiet for a time, then she asked, "Do you
think it was selfish of me to want to be by myself in Mike's cage, to
be in there apart from you?"

"Well, it was something you did mainly for yourself, Samantha.  Being
inside the cage was something you had to try, to see, and to understand
if you liked it.  I know you had a nice time in there.  Why?"

"You didn't have much fun with me stuck in there.  We couldn't hold
each other properly, or do much else together.  I sometimes felt a bit
guilty having so much fun while you could only sit and watch me."

It was my turn to be quiet for a time, while I thought up a good
answer.

"It wasn't like we were apart, Sam.  You were right there for me to
touch.  We were separated by the bars of the cage, but it wasn't for so
long.  We have a lifetime to be together.  Being in there was something
you had to do for yourself.  I would never want to stop you from doing
something that you really wanted to do."

"Thank you, Master, for being so understanding."


Monday morning, six A.M.  Me, on the highway heading for work in the
city.  Going in early in the morning was a little better with less cars
on the road, and I could stop later for coffee and something to eat
before starting work.

The job on the hospital computer upgrade was almost finished, and the
other installers had been laid off to other jobs, leaving Nigel,
Carlos, and me to clean things up and finish off.  While Nigel worked
on getting the programs and the data files set up, Carlos and I went
around the building testing terminals and routers, dressing up the
cables and replacing ceiling tiles.  Easy work that didn't put too much
strain on one's brain.

By the end of the week, things were running smoothly, so Carlos left
for another job, leaving Nigel, me, and a young student who we'd hired
on as apprentice trainee.  A few weeks later, Nigel informed me that
he'd be leaving in a few months for greener pastures, and he planned on
recommending me to fill his position in the hospital as head
administrator for the computer systems.  It would leave me with more
responsibilities, lots more.  But the salary increase would be hard to
pass up.

I talked it over with Samantha that evening, and she said I should go
for it.  The extra money would be nice, but spending less time with
Sam, and the baby, would be tough.  Still, nose to the grindstone and
all that rot.

I drove Sam to see her doctor in the city on a bright sunny, spring-
like day.  He just did a quick exam of Sam, feeling her tummy and
measuring her size.  We sat in his office for a while, talking about
what to expect in a month from now.  He talked about the painkillers
that were available, and Samantha asked if she could perhaps try to go
without them.

"Many women these days prefer to have a more natural form of
childbirth," the doctor told Sam.  "I caution my patients not to hold
steadfast to the idea of having no interventions at all.  Each birth is
different, and where some women have a fairly easy time of it, others
find their labour and the associated pain just too overwhelming.  The
decision is, of course, yours, and we can wait until your labour is
well under way before making any final decisions on pain relief."

Later on in the Jeep, I asked Sam, "Sam, I know you have a rather high
pain tolerance, but you're not thinking..."

I saw her eyes dance for a moment, and I said no more.

Sam and I went to the library to check out a few more "What to expect
when you're expecting" type baby books.  Apparently, having a trusted
and calm, gentle companion along makes the woman feel more secure and
more at ease, and the birthing process usually goes a lot smoother
under those kinds of circumstances.  I seemed to fit the bill as
gentle, trusted companion.  Over the next couple of weeks, Sam and I
went through the various breathing exercises described in the books,
and we read up on what we'd expect during the period of labour and the
final delivery.

Mike and the girls returned from the trip to Seattle and invited
themselves over for dinner one evening.  Mike was eager to tell us how
great the job went with him and Howard Cole.  Apparently, two of the
ladies had no idea the kidnapping had been set up, and believed they
were really being captured by real life pirates.  This made for a few
tense moments during the beginning, until the two were finally let in
on the game.

Even the boat's owner played a part as the swarthy first mate, and Mike
proudly told us that the twins played their roles brilliantly. "Howard
was amazing," Mike said.  "He was the pirate captain on the ship, the
good pirate, while I played the bad pirate.  Once the clients began to
trust him we switched.  On the island, I was the nice one while Howard
was the cruel one.  The girls didn't know who to run to."  In the end,
a simply amazing time was had by all.

A few days later, we met with Sam's doctor again, with less than two
weeks to go.  Everything looked good to him; the baby was turned the
right way and now sat low in Sam's pelvis, just waiting for the right
time.  Sam was big, awkward, and mostly grumpy now, not interested in
doing much else but sitting around the house waiting.  Still fun in
bed, though.

Three A.M., on a rainy Sunday morning, Sam shook me awake.  I looked at
the clock, then rolled to face her.  Sam's face was set in a grimace
and her hand on my shoulder trembled.  I put my hand on her tummy and
felt the contraction easing.  Sam smiled at me.

"I think it's time," she simply said.

We lay in bed and I held her close.  Sam went through two more
contractions as I timed them.  Hard and regular, about eight minutes
apart.  I phoned the hospital, the same one I worked at.  Sam's doctor
coincidentally worked from that one.  I knew the head nurse who picked
up.

"Hi, Judy, It's me, Jim.  It looks like Samantha has gone into labour,
her contractions are eight minutes apart."

"Oh, you've got lots of time.  Give her an hour or two, and if she
keeps up and they get closer together, you might as well come in."

"Thanks Judy, I'll call back later then."

I went and washed my hands, then I felt up inside Sam with a finger.  I
knew what she normally felt like up there, but I couldn't really tell
any difference.  Sam and I lay together for a while as her contractions
continued.  I had a stopwatch, and sure enough, they slowly began
getting closer together.  I pushed a finger in, and low and behold,
even I could tell her cervix was starting to open up.

"We'd best be going," I said to Sam.

We had a little something to eat and drink, and I called the hospital,
then I walked Samantha out to the truck, me holding her and her bag,
her, the umbrella.  I got her settled in, then I went around and got
in, and we drove to the hospital.

There was no traffic that time of the morning, and I knew where all the
potholes were, so I missed them so as not to jar Sam.  It was close to
six when I pulled up in front and helped Sam up the steps and into the
building.  I left her while I parked the Jeep; I found her sitting in
admissions filling out a form.  After that a wheelchair appeared, and I
pushed my wife along the hall to the elevator, then up to the delivery
rooms on the fourth floor.

I was ordered into a room and told to put on a white gown while Sam was
settled into another room.  In a short while, a nurse came to get me
and I was seated beside Sam's bed.  I held her hand as she strained
through another contraction.  When it was done, she looked at me and
smiled.

Sam's labour lasted through most of the morning.  I sat beside her
while nurses and doctors would come and go.  They'd look in on her,
sometimes poke and prod, then leave us alone once more.  I'd be ordered
out at times, but I'd hold my ground.  Allowances would be made because
most of the staff had seen me around, and besides, I was the poor,
confused husband.  And still, it was my doing that started all this,
why shouldn't I stick around.

I'd hold her upright while she groaned and strained.  I'd wet a cloth
to sooth her fevered brow.  Fetch her water for her to drink, hold a
proffered container of juice for her.  I'd coach her through the
breathing, and after, I'd tell her how beautiful she was, even though
she was sweaty and puffy eyed from the exertions.

Sam's water broke, but it was hardly a flood.  There was a bit of a
gush, then more a dribbling seepage.  She'd squirt almost as much when
she cums, I thought, and I squeezed her shoulders, massaged her sore
back.  A nurse came around to change the pad under her.  Sam tensed, as
another contraction took hold.  She moaned long, then yelped out loud,
as clear liquid dribbled out of her pussy.  Sam slumped back; she
looked at me, a goofy grin spread wide.  Could she possibly be enjoying
this?

Sam's mood darkened as noon rolled around.  The washcloth was too wet,
too cold.  "I'm hot, I'm thirsty," she'd groan and strain, she'd yell
and curse.  Transition.  The time of squeezing to open her cervix was
over; the time of pushing out a baby was at hand.

Sam's doctor put in an appearance and I was ordered out.  A nurse came
to my rescue with a subtle "The husband wishes to remain" in the
doctor's ear.  He shrugged, then plunged his hand into Samantha.

"Ten Centimetres," he did declare.  Sam was told to push, and I held
on.  I could tell it was different now, much more strain for Sam, more
pain too, I imagined.  The doctor stood and watched, then placed his
hand on Sam's abdomen.  He smiled; Sam smiled too.  All was well.

This time when I was told to go, I did.  To the change room for green
scrubs and a mask.  Sam was wheeled to another room, The Room.  Under
the bright lights, 'It's Show Time!'

Well, not quite.  You expect thing to happen fast, and on a few times
they do.  Yet mostly, it's hurry up and wait.  It seemed like forever
before I was called, to come into the room.  A seat beside Sam's bed
and I sat down.  I looked around, then I looked up.  A big mirror, and
in it, reflected back to me and Sam, her gaping pussy.  Two silver
rings spread farther apart than I ever thought possible.

"Sam," I whispered in her ear.  "Look at your pussy."

Sam's face was screwed in a grimace of pain.

"Don't push, Samantha," the nurse told her, "breath through it."

I held her head and coached her through the puffing and blowing.  Sam
collapsed with a long groan.

"Are you all right, Sam?" I asked, for lack of anything intelligent to
say.

"I...I think so, Mas, uh, Jim."

The doctor came in, followed by a retinue of nurses and extras, and the
show got under way.

"How are we doing, Samantha?" he asked.  "Do you need something for the
pain?"

"I..." Sam took a breath.  "I'm O.K."

"All right.  Now on the next contraction, I want you to push.  O.K.?"

I wondered what she'd been doing.  "O.K," she answered.

The next one began to build and Sam tried to raise herself.  I helped
to support her and she bore down hard.  She began panting with the
strain, then moaning loudly.  In the mirror, I saw a bulge, her labia
rings spread even wider apart, and the bluish coloured bulge began to
appear.  The top of the baby's head.

"I'm going to do the episiotomy now, Samantha.  Are you all right?"

Sam was gasping for air, but in between breaths, she managed to give a
tiny nod.  An instrument was handed over, which of course was a
scalpel.  The doctor made a small straight cut to avoid a jagged tear.
I'd turned away from the mirror to gaze upon Samantha's face.  A sharp
surface bite of pain, overlaid on her deeper thundering pain.  When her
eyes flickered open, they locked on mine.  And she smiled at me.

"Here it comes," she whispered.

I glanced towards the doctor, but he was ready.

"Deep breath, Samantha," he said.

With a glance, I saw the baby's head begin to move and her tiny ears
pushed past Sam's labia rings.  Sam threw her head back against my arms
and howled a howl I'd heard her make many times before.  Her face was
red, her chest was flushed a bright red.  Samantha has never admitted
to it, but I felt that the signs were unmistakable.  As our first-born
came into the world, it seemed like her mother was experiencing
something akin to orgasm.

The baby's head came out, followed by her shoulders, then the rest came
out in a messy gush.  A nurse had a rubber syringe ready to suck goo
from the child's mouth and nose.  The baby moved her head aside, then
opened its tiny mouth and let out a loud screech.  Sam and I watched as
those first wet breaths turned our baby's skin from purplish blue to a
healthy reddish pink.

The cord was clamped and severed, the baby was carried to a table, and
gently the slime was sponged off her.  She was then tagged with her
name in tiny beads on a string, wrapped in a hospital blanket, brought
towards us, and placed in Samantha's outstretched arms.

Eight pounds, four ounces, a health baby girl.  We'll name her
Guenivere, but everyone will call her Gwen, for short.

[End chapter 5]


[Epilogue:]

Dateline: Algonquin Provincial Park - Canada.  Six years later, August
long weekend.

Evening, sitting on the beach.  Quiet time.  If I had a favourite time
of the day, evenings would probably be it.  Finish dinner, clean up.
Maybe take a shower, or a rinse in the lake later on.  Grab lawn
chairs, a cup of your preferred beverage, and hit the beach.

Gwen is sculpting her sand castle for the third time today.  Tall with
ornate looking spires, she's using a small stick to carve windows on
one tower.  William, but we call him Bill for short, Billy pauses in
his digging, looks at his sister, gauges her progress on the castle,
and decides the time is ripe to strike.

Gwen senses him coming and rocks back on her heels moments before her
brother dives headlong into her sand sculpture.  Billy comes up
spitting sand.  Gwen smiles, pleased with his distress from not yet
learning to close his mouth.  She looks over at us, and I wave to her.
While her brother eradicates all traces of the sand castle, Gwen comes
to sit with Sam and I.

Samantha's belly is big with our third child and I feel him stirring
restlessly inside my wife's tummy.  I gently take my daughter's hand to
place it on her mommy's bulge.

"Your new sister wants to come out and play," I say to her.

Gwen will be starting school this fall, her brother Billy turned three
this past March.  Sam and I had planned on stopping at two, and her
doctor had inserted an I.U.D. into her womb to prevent another
pregnancy.  He might as well have planted a potato up there, since two
weeks after Billy's birthday, Samantha missed her period.

Gwen sits on my lap as mom awkwardly rises from her chair, then waddles
down the beach to tend to our son.  I watch, transfixed by her beauty,
as she scoops up water to wash sand from Billy's face and mouth, her
two bracelets flashing in the evening's last sunlight.  I hold my
daughter closely, pointing out to the lake.  Liselle and Lisa, paddling
a canoe, Mike sitting like a Samoan king in the centre.

I carry Billy and a chair, Samantha has her chair in one hand, Gwen's
hand in her other, and we make our way back to our campsite.  I stare
for the umpteenth time at a child's small hand fingering the ring of
steel around her mother's wrist.  We pass by Mike's big motor home with
its flush toilet and shower, the air conditioning.  To our big, patched
tent with the screened in front section you can sit in if the bugs are
bad.

Later on, the hot chocolate drunk, the marshmallows roasted over the
campfire and eaten, the kids settled into their beds, Samantha and I
sit close together by the fire, listening to a far away baseball game
on the little radio.  Tomorrow, Mike and the twins are taking our two
kids for the day, hiking on a couple of the shorter nature trails in
the park.  Sam and I will paddle a nearby river to a secluded swamp
that we know about for a little bit of fun.

I place my hand on Sam's belly, and baby number three is quiet now.  I
lean close and kiss my wife; she returns the kiss with passion. Life is
good.

			  dino@canoemail.com

  [End of story, "The Ad."]		    C/W Dino.  June 2000


Note: The idea of Mike being a professional dominant, and the character
of Howard Cole from Seattle was lifted, with permission, from a story
entitled "Submission in Seattle", and can be found on the Leviticus
website.  (http://www.dajungle.com/stories/leviticus/)

Review This Story || Email Author: Dino Dave

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