At the intermission, I turned Janey's stimulators down, more so that she could help Sally to the Lady's Room than to give her a break. I fully intended for her to be in a constant state of arousal for the remainder of the evening. It promised to be most entertaining, if not exactly fulfilling for me. I was beginning to get a certain — some might say perverse — satisfaction from the constant arousal in the two women.
They returned from the obligatory visit without incident. I indicated to Janey to bring a plate with a selection of the refreshments from the buffet and a single glass of champagne. The food had been artistically laid out by the Opera House staff prior to our arrival. Looking next at Sally, I simply pointed to the kneeling bench. Keeping her head bowed, she moved gracefully to my side and knelt down. I couldn't help but notice her calm demeanor and that a satisfied smile kept playing with the corners of her mouth.
I placed a finger under her chin and lifted her eyes to meet mine.
"Are you happy, my love?"
"Oh, YES, Master!"
"That pleases me."
I smiled at her warmly. Then, just as I was releasing her chin, I quietly asked, "By the way, how many times did you cum in the lady's room with Janey?"
I had detected a more than faint odor of sex wafting on her currents as she had come over to me. The offhand question was rewarded with a look of sheer panic on her face; that deer in the headlights look. Caught! She blushed a deep scarlet, and turned her face from mine in shame.
"That's five, my love. Do not make me give you more."
"Yes, Master."
I was silent for a moment, reflecting.
"Am I really, Sally?
"Really what, Master?"
She was confused by how I addressed her with her name. Normally, I use 'my Love' to address her when she was a Sub.
"Am I your 'Master'?"
She didn't answer for a while. When she did it was with her head bowed completely down, her chin resting on her chest. The jeweled collar must have been choking her.
"To be completely honest, I don't know. Sometimes, when you are focused, you are my Master. Other times I sense you are unsure or defocused. You try to cover for your uncertainty by pretending this is not serious. When you are like that, then it is hard for me to think of you as my Master. Uncertainty is dangerous in a Master.
"As much as I desire to do so, I cannot commit to you — as a slave — when you are unsure. You know I am committed to you as a lover, even as your future wife. I cannot commit myself, my will to you when..."
She looked me directly in the eye as she spoke that last part. She was not being cruel. She was, in a way, begging me to take this seriously, to be the total Master she could commit to.
"Forgive me for speaking so openly, but you asked."
I was quiet, shamed by my own indecision. I had sensed the same things, but didn't know what to do. No, that's not true. I did know. I needed to take this change in our relationship seriously, attack it the same way I did a business problem. Half the time I was feeling my way, unsure of myself. So I played it light, like a game. But this was not a game to her. I would have to get serious about this, and soon.
"Sally, thank you. I confess I have been feeling the same thing, but I didn't ... No. No excuses." I frowned at her, then made a decision.
"Slave! Do not address me as 'Master' until I am your Master."
She looked up at me, startled at my use of 'slave' to address her.
"You may use 'Sir' until then."
She nodded. She understood it was not an option. She also understood that I intended to become a true Master to her.
"Yes, Ma ... Sir. Thank you for understanding."
I nodded curtly. Taking the glass of champagne from the side table where Janey had placed it, I offered my lover a sip. She drank gratefully. I pointed to each one of the selections of delicacies Janey had brought over, one at a time. She finally nodded her head at a particularly small one. I held it for her to bite and she deftly nibbled at it until it was gone, then cleaned my fingers with her tongue. I grinned to myself as I thought of how she had made a meal of that tidbit. I could have wolfed it down in one bite with six others just like it. Sally took another sip of wine then refused all offers for more.
As the orchestra was still out, I leaned back, opened the Velcro fly of my trousers and let the head of my soft cock slip out.
"Slave, where is your place?" I asked her quietly.
Once again I saw a faint grin teasing her luscious lips as she repositioned herself over my lap and swooped down to claim her prize.
With Sally taken care of, momentarily, anyway, I turned my attention to my 'date.' She had been taking extraordinary pains to ignore Sally and me during our little discussion, which clearly meant that she had been watching and listening to everything. To take her mind off us, I cranked up all of her external stimulators to full, even the one in her ass. I also activated the implanted neuro-chemical reservoirs in her system to their lowest level, knowing that they would release tiny amounts of the sexual enhancer into her system. She would now orgasm at the slightest touch. Hell, if she even thought about it, she would cum.
I saw her blush as the sensations kicked in, then sag slightly as the combination of the stimulators and the chemicals pushed her over the edge almost immediately. She wasn't going to climb back out of this for a while. Wild-eyed, she staggered stiff-limbed back to her chair beside me. She sort of oozed into her seat, a puddle of quivering teenaged flesh. Her breathing was ragged.
"Comfy?" I asked her in a light tone.
She looked back up at me with a languid expression, her eyes unfocused and her mouth open. Her breath, when she could catch it, was in short gasps; most unladylike, but incredibly appealing. I thought I detected a slight nod in answer to my question, but it could have been another spasm passing through her.
I tipped her head over onto my shoulder and sat back to wait for the second half of the concert. About a minute later I felt a warm light touch on my leg. Janey had put her hand there, right below her mother's face. As Janey climaxed, her hand squeezed my leg, and gradually moved towards my iron shaft. When her fingertips finally grazed the velvety skin, she stopped moving any closer. She seemed content with just that light contact. Her sharp fingernails moved lazily though my thatch of curly pubic hairs, digging in from time to time as she crashed through another climax.
Her mother watched this from above, her mouth never moving off of the head of my cock. It must have been strange for her, watching her daughter in the throes of orgasm after orgasm and not being able to sense it. I still had the damper on their link, keeping their sensations apart.
Even when the music started, Sally stayed in place. I didn't urge her away this time. This part of the program was not the composer's best work, neither were they Sally's favorite pieces and the conductor's interpretations left me a little cold. To be honest, I don't think any of us was paying much attention to the music.
Somehow, I managed to get both of them into the limo at the end of the concert. Janey's legs were a little wobbly, but she pulled herself together to get through the dwindling crowd. She didn't talk to anyone and she looked a bit flushed. I held her close to me, supporting her through the crowd. She leaned heavily on me until we stepped outside. The cool night air seemed to revive her. Sally followed obediently behind us, as ordered.
The limo driver moved smoothly up to the curb as we emerged from the gaily-lit doors of the Opera House. She hopped out and opened the rear door, timing it so that we didn't even have to slow down; just down the stairs and into the limo. She was good.
As we settled into the rear seats, I felt my fly being opened by two timid hands. Since Sally was still bound with her arms behind her, that could only mean that Janey was doing some exploring. I glanced at Sally, who was just getting to her knees in front of me. I motioned with my head for her to get up and sit beside me on the other side away from Janey. She did so without hesitation.
After Sally was seated, I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her into me. I nuzzled my nose into her hair and breathed in deeply. I loved the smell of her hair. I brushed my lips softly along the top of her head. I hoped she wouldn't notice this apparent weakness on my part, but I found it hard not to express my love for her in 'soft' ways. I was still learning, and hadn't yet realized it was the attitude, not the action.
With a deep sigh of satisfaction, Sally accepted my affectionate gesture. She tucked her legs up under her, and snuggled into my side. I slipped my hand through the opening of her cape and captured a firm tit. She turned her face to my chest.
"Please, Sir. I will cum if you do that. You know that. You are very skilled at arousing this slave. I cannot help myself. Forgive my weakness."
I carefully captured the stiff nipple between my thumb and forefinger. I looked her right in the eye.
"Slave, you have my permission to cum three times before we get home. I will not stop playing with your tits until we arrive, and I know just how sensitive they are and how horny you are right now. I will do my utmost to make you cum as often as I can. If you succeed in limiting your pleasure to three climaxes, you may choose your own punishment for your indiscretions tonight. You will receive only the five strokes, which you will count aloud for me and for which you will then thank me. If you do not succeed, the number will be doubled, and I will choose the punishment."
She gasped as I squeezed her nipple hard just as I ended. It must have taken a supreme effort on her part to stifle that orgasm, but she did not cum. The driver started the limo and the vibrations from the road added to her torment. I teased the firm flesh in my hand unmercifully. Sally did not draw away from me or resist my marauding hand. She remained quiet, her breathing very controlled.
Janey had begun her exploration of my now engorged prick as I was dealing with her Mom. Her hot little hands grasped the base of shaft. She could not encircle it with one hand.
"Daddy?"
Her voice was small, much like I imagine it was when she was six years old.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure, Honey. What do you want to know?"
"Are most guys this big?"
She lifted my swollen organ in her tiny hands and waved it a little to indicate what she was referring to.
I laughed quietly. This was going to be an interesting ride home.
"I'm not sure, but I don't think so. However, the size of a man's penis is not really that important between two people who love each other. A man does not need a big cock to bring pleasure to a woman."
"Does it hurt when you stick it in down there?"
"The first time a woman is penetrated usually hurts her, at least a little. Even after that, a small penis can hurt the woman if she isn't prepared or ready or willing."
Janey had her own experience with that. She knew it could hurt, even a small one. She was quiet, softly stroking her fingers up and down.
"Some of the girls at school were talking about blow jobs, putting their boyfriend's thingy in their mouth and then sucking on it. Is that what Mom has been doing tonight?"
"Not exactly."
I eased off on my tit-torture of Sally as I reflected on some of the great oral passions we had experienced in the past.
"Your Mom and I had a bet once that she could make me cum in a minute or less by just holding the head of my cock in her mouth. To win the bet, she couldn't move, or suck, or hum or anything. Just hold it. She was right and she won the bet, the first time. I won the second time. I won't bet with her like that again. I'm afraid of what I would lose next time."
I smiled down at my lover. I placed a tender kiss on her forehead. She closed her eyes and a small tear of happiness trickled down her cheek from the corner of one eye. Sally sighed as I attacked her sensitive nipple once more, this time caressing it to its full turgid height, then flicking it rapidly with the tip of my finger. I continued talking to Janey.
"Now, I have her do it that way, just holding the head in her mouth, more as a reminder. Giving a man oral pleasure is one of the most intimate acts a woman can do for a man. The pleasure almost always goes just one way with this act, from the woman to the man. The very position the woman is in, kneeling, is a position of servitude. In addition, it just feels great to have her mouth there."
"Do you ever let her move, I mean, does she still give you blow jobs?"
"Janey, you should know by now, I don't 'let' your mother do anything. She pretty much does whatever she wants, whenever she wants and I willingly accept her gifts to me. By the way, I also have pretty much the same freedom with her, to do what I want, when I want and she accepts the pleasures I give her. She even accepted my proposal of marriage, eventually.
"So the answer to your question is, 'Yes' she still does pleasure me orally. I do the same for her, too."
"You mean you put your mouth down there, on her?"
"Uh-huh."
"Wow! Doesn't that tickle?"
"Not too much. I trimmed her pussy hair back out of the way so that I..."
"Not you, silly. Her! Doesn't it tickle her?"
"OH! Well, exc-u-u-use me."
We both laughed.
"Well, I don't think so but I really don't know. You'll have to ask her. Later. I do know she never laughed while I was eating her pussy, at least not out loud. She moans a lot, but no laughter."
She was quiet for a bit.
"Is Mom a good cock-sucker? Is that the right name for it?"
I chuckled. What a loaded question! How did women always manage to ask questions that made you compare them to each other? I was just about ready to answer her, truthfully, when Janey interrupted. She had sensed my quandary.
"I'm sorry, Daddy. I'll rephrase the question. Do you like the way Mom gives head? Does she have a good technique?"
This time I laughed aloud.
"First, the name 'cock-sucker' has kind of a bad taste to it. I wouldn't call you or her that, no matter what. Second, your Mom is the absolute best, not that I have that much to compare it to."
I felt Sally shaking as I held her. She was laughing, not having an orgasm.
"Third, it is not her technique that makes her the best, although she is fantastic that way too. What makes your Mom so special is her attitude. She wants to give me pleasure that way. It is her gift. I have never asked her to do it."
My voice kind of tapered off at the end. Suddenly, a light went off in my head. Attitude, not actions. Attitude, not techniques. I needed a fucking attitude adjustment. Fast.
Janey was thinking about what I had said, too. As she was thinking, her head lowered toward my prick. She continued her inspection from point-blank range. Her inquisitive fingers pressed against the spongy head. A clear drop of pre-cum grew at the slit at the top.
"What does it taste like, you know, that stuff that spurts out?"
"I, uh, I don't know."
"Didn't you, you know, that time in the dungeon?"
"No." I cast about for a way to continue.
"I failed my Mistress that time."
She looked up at me, her face a question mark. I explained my comment to her.
"When I was in the dungeon, I gave myself, gave over my will, totally to your Mom. It was the only way I could endure what was going on inside my head, to get rid of the terror and fear. Understand that I did what I did willingly. I would do it again, if she asked me to. Still, in my mind, when I was in the dungeon, I came to think of her as 'Mistress, ' my owner. I still think of her in that way when I remember what happened. She is my Mistress even now, in many ways.
"When I was in the dungeon, at the end, I only tasted the clear discharge a man makes at the beginning, the pre-cum, at that time. All I can tell you about that stuff is that it tasted 'slippery', salty. But sometimes, after your Mom takes me in her mouth, we will kiss, and I can detect a different taste that I assume is a little of what I taste like. It isn't awful or foul tasting or anything, but it is different. Tangy, I guess."
"Oh. You don't like to talk about that time she did all that stuff, do you?"
"It's OK, Honey. I'm just not exactly sure what happened or how I feel about it sometimes. I do know that a lot of good changes came out of that experience."
"So, am I supposed to swallow that white stuff? Some of the girls thought that would be gross, but they hadn't done it, so they didn't know. Doesn't a guy pee out that hole, too?"
I played with the loose hairs on the back of her neck, careful to not put any downward pressure on her head.
"Janey, Honey, you're not even supposed to have a cock in your mouth unless you want it there. It should always be your choice. Never let a guy try to tell you he will be injured if he doesn't get relief. It doesn't work that way.
"Second, it's up to you what you do with it. Spit or swallow. It's your choice."
"What does Mom do?"
"Does it matter?"
She thought about that.
"No. Not really."
That seemed to be the end of her questions as she was silent for the rest of the ride. A lot of the content she had already heard from her Mom in their many talks. I know Sally had been very thorough and more explicit than I thought necessary.
I don't know if Janey just wanted a second opinion or a man's perspective. Sally and I agreed in our approach to sex and relationships in terms of giving and not taking, of it being a shared experience, not one forcing or coercing the other. I felt confident I had not contradicted anything Sally may have told her.
Janey seemed content to hold and fondle my cock, gaining a sense of its size, hardness, and strength. One time she leaned forward and touched the tip of her dainty tongue to the drop of pre-cum that had collected at the pee-slit. After she had tasted that, she leaned her head back on my stomach, apparently deep in thought. I felt her shudder as the stimulators pushed her over the edge of one climax after the other with regularity. I was amazed she had been able to hold a coherent conversation with all that shakin' going on.
We rode the rest of the way home without incident, in silence.
We disembarked from the limo, and I walked Janey to the front door. As this was still our first 'date, ' I took her in my arms and gave her a good night kiss on the porch in front of Sally. Janey returned the kiss and sucked in my tongue greedily. That simple good night kiss ended up leaving us both a little breathless. Her enthusiasm was highly erotic.
I slipped my hand into my coat pocket and turned her stimulators off. She gave a little whimper.
"Well, I guess the date is over. Right, Dad?"
She almost sounded disappointed.
"Yes."
She gave me another big hug.
"Thank you. I had a good time. You made me feel very special tonight. Good night!"
With that, she gave me a chaste peck on the cheek and let herself into the house. The door shut, leaving Sally and me standing in the cool night air. I turned to Sally.
"So, slave. How many times did you cum on the way home? I didn't feel any. Am I losing my touch?"
She looked up at me, trembling. "None, Sir. But I had cum three times in the ladies room with Janey without your permission. How did you know, Sir?"
It had been a damn lucky guess. I just smiled a knowing smile at her. I think I almost fooled her.
"Anyway, since I had cum three times and you allowed me three, I figured I couldn't allow myself any more, Sir."
I was not pleased with her response, but I had promised her that she could choose her punishment. I was in unfamiliar territory, and I think I overplayed the part a bit. It didn't feel natural, but it was what I thought a displeased master would act like. I was wrong.
I reached out to the clasps of her cape. I undid them roughly, one by one, and jerked the cape off her shoulders, exposing her naked body to the night air. The nearest neighbor was 2 miles away, and the porch was secluded. But it was still a shock to her to be exposed outside of the house, outdoors. I towered over her, backing her up against the front door. My eyes were angry, and my tone harsh.
"First, slave, you don't think. You don't 'figure.' You do what I tell you and only that. I gave you permission to come three times in the car. You missed out on that pleasure, slave. I already knew you had cum without permission and you are going to be punished for that.
"Second, by refusing to cum for me, you took away from me the pleasure of pleasuring you, of bringing you to a sweet release. You resisted my touch, you ignored my commands, my caresses, squeezes and pinches. If you do not wish my tender touches, you will get painful ones instead.
"Third," and I softened, considerably, "I love you. Deeply. Totally. Forever and ever."
I kissed her trembling lips. I wanted to ravish her then and there, to fuck her on the porch. It was one of the few places in her house we hadn't done it. But her fear was a good indication it probably wasn't a good time. She wasn't the only one frightened. We were on the threshold of a new darkness. I didn't know if the darkness contained an abyss or if it was just another room in the house of our relationship. I took her in my arms as I continued.
"Slave, my Love, I promised you a punishment. I also promised you that you could choose it. Here is the key to the dungeon. Go get something for me to use, then come back to the bedroom and we will continue."
I turned her around and set her arms free. She would need them to get into the dungeon. We stood still for a while as I massaged some feeling back into her stiff upper limbs. When she was able to roll her shoulders without grunting in pain, I opened the door and gave her fanny a good smack to get her moving. She literally ran into the house in her high heels, and all the way to the basement. I thought I heard a sob a she turned the first corner and went out of sight, but I couldn't tell.
I made my way to our room, lost in thought. I was confused, overwhelmed by the events of the evening with Sally. They hadn't gone the way I had anticipated. I was sitting on the edge of the bed when Janey called out from the hallway.
"Dad, the date is officially over, right?"
"Yes, Honey. We said 'Good Night' and everything. Why do you ask?"
"Well, I wouldn't want to give you the impression I do this on a 'first' date."
With that, she slid, - oozed is a better term — around the corner and into our bedroom. She had removed her cocktail dress and her bra, leaving her in just the wispy panties. She still had on the heels as well. My prick hardened at the sight of her. I took in her swaying breasts as she walked towards the bed. I noticed she was staring at my crotch and that she was licking her lips hungrily. Something made me stifle any protest I should have made.
"Janey, Honey, I hope you never dress like that on any date, other than your wedding night!"
She giggled and shimmied her young tits at me as she came over.
"Get real, Dad."
I hoped she was joking. What she did next made me think she wasn't.
She knelt down in front of my feet. She placed her hands on my knees and spread them, making room for her to shuffle in closer. I could feel the scalding heat of her breasts as they pressed into my inner thighs. Her stiffened nipples felt as if they would rip the fabric of my slacks.
She deftly opened my fly with a quick tug. My iron hard prick sprang out, almost hitting her in the face. Without a word, without hesitation, she opened her mouth wide and swallowed as much of that iron shaft as she could.
Like most beginners, she tried to take too much too soon. Unlike most beginners, Janey had never accepted failure in anything she tried to do. Her second attempt to swallow the thick shaft was even more determined. I felt the spongy head of my prick nudging against her tonsils. Again she gagged. Again she came back for more. Six times she tried to swallow me whole. On the seventh, she did.
And she dug her fingernails sharply into the cloth covering my thighs. She reared back her head, gasping and shaking. Janey had just discovered one of the more deviously placed pressure sensitive implants the Rosens had put in. Thank God, she hadn't had a hold on my balls.
"Dad! What in the hell was that?"
She was shaken, but definitely not displeased at her discovery.
"That's a little gift from the Drs. Rosen. They told me about it after they were already in. They thought you might enjoy it after they saw the length and size of my equipment."
"Wow!" She caught her breath a minute. "So, how am I doing so far, Dad?"
"Janey, you're doing fine. Outstanding, actually. But remember, it's the attitude, not the technique. Just watch the teeth. I admit you are the first person to ever get that much of my prick in their mouth and down their throat. Not even your Mom has taken that much; but don't tell her, OK? This isn't a competition. Not that I wouldn't mind..."
"Oh, Daddy!"
She giggled as she re-captured the fat ruddy head in her mouth. As she began to bob up and down, taking more of the shaft inside with each downward stroke, I realized this was the actualization of a major fantasy for me. I thought she should know.
"Janey, no, don't stop. Just listen. When you Mom first proposed that I be a part of your, uh, sexual education, I immediately got this mental picture in my head. It was so erotic that I got an erection at a very inappropriate moment and your Mom almost called the whole thing off. She almost kicked me out of the house, for good. Fortunately, she didn't.
"Janey, the picture that came to my mind was exactly this: You, naked, or nearly so, between my legs, sucking on my cock. You were looking up at me, - Oh, God, Yeah, Honey, just like that — and you moved your head up and down the length of my hard shaft. It was erotic then, but it is nothing compared to the real thing. OH SHIT, BABY! I'M CUMMING!"
I thrust my hips forward, burying my cock head deep into her elastic throat. I spasmed once, twice, three, four, five times. A large gob of pearly white semen surged into her esophagus with each butt-clenching throb. Spent, I sagged back on the bed.
She continued sucking on me until she had the last drop. Then, sliding her breasts up my body, she brought her face up to meet mine. She pressed her lips against my sealed lips. I knew what she had in mind. I opened my eyes and looked directly into hers. She was not demanding I kiss her, only offering me the opportunity. I don't know why, but I kissed her, opening my mouth to hers.
I felt a stringy mass pass from her mouth to mine as she bathed my mouth with her tongue. I tasted myself fully for the first time and didn't gag. It would have ruined the moment.
Janey then proceeded to swab my tonsils and mouth with her tongue, removing as much of the transferred jism as she could. She pushed herself up on her hands, moving away from my face. She made a big show of swallowing the contents of her mouth. I collapsed back onto bed. I felt her slip my pecker back into my pants and then close the fly.
"Bye, lover," she lilted.
"Bye, sweets. Thank you for your gift. Next time it's your turn."
Her eyes widened at the thought of me eating her out.
"Now?" came hopefully
"No. Next time. I'll let you know, don't worry."
She had a pleased smile on her face as she slipped out of the room and made her way back down the hall to her own. Something other than my cum had passed between us just then. An understanding of sorts.
I was still smiling contentedly when Sally slipped silently back into the room.
That smile froze in place as she handed me a short, stiff crop. I recognized it as the one from Amud's shop. This one could really hurt. I had tried it out against my leg once and the stripe had lasted more than a week, almost as long as my howling did.
But even as her choice of the implement for her punishment chilled me, her next movements numbed me to the bone. She moved silently and surely over to her makeup table and picked up the backless bench she sat on when she did her makeup. She moved the bench to the center of the room.
She knelt with her back to the bench and bent backward over the bench. She reached under the bench with her arms and grasped her ankles with her hands. She was bowed backward over the bench, tense. Her breasts were presented in a most alluring fashion. Had I not had a whip in my hand, I would have taken this as an invitation to tit-fuck her. Even with the whip I considered it seriously.
As it was, I was trembling. I hadn't been this shaky-shit scared since I drove my Dad's car into the lake.
This was it. I raised my arm and took a trial swing in the air. The sounds of the stiff leather whistling through the air terrified me, and I was the one holding the crop! All I could think of was how much this would hurt my lover. It was not so much that I might hurt her, I knew it would do that. It was that I might injure her, do damage. I could not bear to mark her lovely skin. I was torn. I could not bring myself to do this; but I had promised.
I didn't say a word as I stood up and moved to one side. I didn't' trust myself to speak. Sally had her eyes closed, which was just as well, as I was crying like a baby. I made a tentative swat at her upthrust mounds, her chosen targets for this pain. The sound of the crop slapping against that tender flesh sounded like a cannon going off in my head. I almost dropped the crop and ran; but something was sneaking around in the back of my head. I thought I sensed something from her at the exact moment the crop touched her, but I wasn't sure. It was like it came through the crop, talking to me. Sally had said nothing. She didn't even flinch.
I swatted again. Again half-heartedly. Two down, three to go. I thought I just might make it through this without killing her. Then I realized she wasn't counting the strokes like I had told her to. In frustration, I cried out at her,
"You're supposed to be counting, Damn it!"
She replied in a calm voice.
"I will count if you ever strike me, Sir."
Then she braced herself, waiting for what she must have known was going to happen. She was trying to make me mad, taunting my weakness. She almost succeeded.
I dropped the tip of the trembling crop so that it just touched her flesh. It wasn't a blow, the end was just resting on her. However, the effect on me was electrifying. Suddenly, it was as if I could sense her thoughts; but they weren't really thoughts. It was more as if I could sense her needs, her cravings. I understood she needed to be disciplined. By me. By her master. Not because she was bad; but because I loved her and she had displeased me. Whatever it was that I felt, it also let me know just how hard to bring the crop down. I could sense what she needed, how much pain, and where. It was as if we were one.
I went with the feelings, followed these strange and unfamiliar ethereal urgings. I never knew I raised my arm. The crop came down. Thunder exploded in the silence of the room. It was louder than the gunshot when she had dropped my gun on the bed. The flaming red welt it left crossed the tops of both breasts on the soft fleshy middle part.
"One. Thank you, Sir."
How she managed not to shout, scream, yell, or holler, I don't know.
CRACK!!
"Two. Thank you, Sir."
Swoosh. CRACK!!
"OH! Three! Th-thank you, Sir."
SwooshCRACK!!
There was a sharp intake of breath this time. I let the tip of the crop rest on her chest, feeling her pain, her exhilaration, her neediness for this.
"F-f-ffffour ... Thank you. M-m-mas, S-Sir!"
I let her steel herself for the final blow. I sensed from within her that she knew this one would be the worst, the culmination of all the preceding blows. It was what she needed
When I sensed she was ready, I released my arm to the essence that we had become. I know I was the one holding and moving the whip, but it was as if someone or something else was guiding it, aiming it, and applying the right amount of force. I watched, fascinated, as the crop whistled down and landed, bisecting the other four. Two of them had landed above her erect nipples. That they were erect, fully aroused, struck me as odd. The other two welts were spaced evenly below her turgid nipples. The fifth blow landed directly over those sensitive buds of flesh. She arched her back even tighter than it was in the position she was in.
"FIVE! OH, MY MASTER!" she shouted and fainted dead away.
I rushed to her and picked up my lover, her limp form draping over my arms, tears streaming down my face. Her head and feet hung down on either side. Without banging her head on the door, I carefully rushed her into the bathroom and eased her down into the large bathtub. I climbed in behind her, supporting her head on my shoulder. I started the water with my feet, set the temperature at just shy of scalding, and let the tub fill around us.
The hot water diluted the flood of my tears as I rocked and crooned to my love, swaying gently back and forth as one would with a sick or injured child. I felt as if my heart were breaking. The discipline, the pain she had just accepted far outweighed anything she had done to displease me. I had been insensitive to her needs. I had not taken my responsibilities seriously and I now had injured her.
I looked down through my tears and saw the angry welts that striped her ivory flesh. I attempted to cup them, to massage the pain away, but I couldn't bring myself to even caress that sore flesh. I settled for cupping my hand around them, almost but not touching, sensing the aura of them. I sensed pain, aching, and, surprisingly, relief.
The water rose over our bodies and the automatic shutoff stopped the flow of water into the tub. Her sore tits were submerged, and floated softly in the steamy water. We lay like that for some time, allowing the scalding water to soak the pain from her skin. Her breathing evened out, no longer catching in small gasps and sobs. Finally, after an eternity, I felt her stir.
Her first action was to check to see if her collar was still on. Her hand slowly rose, at first I thought to check her breasts, but her hand kept rising, until her fingertips lightly caressed the symbol of her servitude. In all that had gone on, I had not even thought of taking off the collar. She moved her arms slowly, as if it hurt to move. I could well imagine it would. As she ran her fingers lightly over the sparking necklace, I could feel her contentment grow.
She continued to lay there, her back to my chest. I cannot describe what happened during that time, but I think we became more one than we were two. Our brainwaves synched, something. Her deep contentment spilled over onto me. She wouldn't let me feel guilt anymore. What I had done was my right as her Master.
I didn't pretend to understand and, typical of a woman, just as I was feeling as if I understood what was going on, she shocked me again.
"I've made you ruin your suit, Master."
"Ssshhh. Quiet. It's OK."
Huh? Where in the Hell did that come from? My suit? I couldn't have cared less. I had just about ripped her tits off, and she's worried about my suit!
She was quiet for a while, then, in almost a whisper.
"Thank you, Master."
Feeling is one thing, hearing it is another. Her obvious gratitude was too much for me. I burst out crying, sobbing into the back of her hair. She let me cry myself out.
"Master, may I speak freely?"
"Yes, my Love. You know you can always speak freely to me."
She took a deep breath to steady herself and then plunged into a long lecture. I listened.
"Master, I am sorry, but I had to make you hurt me like that. I did it on purpose. I knew that if I didn't force you to do it, you would never do that to me, to whip my tits. You are so careful with me and I know you adore them. I adore your adoration of them. So I choose for you to hurt me there. That is what took me so long in the dungeon. I was not looking forward to the pain of being tit-whipped with a crop. I had to build up my courage to force you to go through with this.
"I also tried to make you angry with me, to make you strike me in anger. I was kind of angry with you, Master. You were not being serious with me. You acted as if we were playing a game. So I intentionally taunted you. I was trying to make you mad.
"If you had struck me in anger, then I would have had a reason to never submit myself to you again, ever. I understood that it would have meant we would eventually be torn apart, as I have this need to submit to my Master. I don't know what it is, but it is a part of me, just as eating or breathing. I don't need it all the time, just occasionally. It is there, nonetheless.
"Master, you must never let a slave, this slave especially, choose the punishment. For me, your displeasure, even in jest, is too much for me to bear. This slave lives to serve you, for your pleasure alone. Because I had displeased you so greatly, well, that was another reason I had to choose the worst punishment I could imagine for myself. I felt as if I deserved that and more. I thought about what you said on the porch, when you were angry with me. I thought at first you were not being serious again, but there was something else there, too. Like you were trying too hard to be what you thought I would think a Master would be. What you said, about me stealing your pleasure from you by resisting your arousing touches; that was more true than I think you knew. I almost decided to end this evening, until I remembered you said that. It showed me that you grasped at least some of the basics, that down deep, you just might understand what this was about. I heard what you said to Janey about your time in the dungeon, about submitting to my will.
"Master, when I am your slave that is exactly how I am. I am yours completely. If you treat that lightly, I will be ... I am crushed. I would rather be humiliated, stripped in public, made to perform like an animal, with an animal, even, than be brushed off lightly.
"Master, to be my Master, you do not have to put on an act. Just be who you are. Be sure of what you are. I crave your demands on me, I long to do what you command. You can still love me as you are accustomed to doing. I adore your touch, whether tender or harsh. I need them both. Your sweet caresses are so honest, so pure that they melt my heart. Your firm hand in disciplining me just now fires my blood. I have never felt so alive.
"Yes, it hurts, but only for the moment. For certain it hurts less than an angry or careless word from you, and for not nearly as long. I will wear these stripes proudly. I earned them and, more important, they are from my master's hand.
"If you allow it, I wish to show them to Bala on their visit the day after tomorrow. Not to make her jealous, though secretly she will be, but because I am proud of what you are becoming. She has a crush on you, I think, Master. She is very happy with Amud, but your raw power thrills a part of her he cannot touch.
"Master, oh, my Master! I had it all carefully planned out. Forgive this slave for being so presumptuous. I know you told me not to think, but I wanted so much for this to be real for us. I wanted to give you one more chance. And then something happened...
"Master? What happened to you? To us? I taunted you, I felt your sudden anger and then, all of a sudden, you were in me, in my mind. You filled me, possessed me as no one ever has. You knew what I needed, you understood. I felt the fear flow out of me and out of you, too. I am sorry I made you afraid. Master, were you afraid for me? That I would be hurt? That would be just like you, you know. You are so gentle and kind.
"And then I felt your strength, your tremendous power, your goodness. I felt you release yourself, to let your fear go. Did you feel it, too?
"And then you whipped me, Master. Oh, Master, it was wonderful! I could feel your love beating into me with each searing stroke of the crop. Did you know I came each time you whipped me? Especially the last one. Forgive me, again, but I have never experienced orgasms like that ever before. Perhaps one day you will explain all of the places the good doctors hid their wonderful little toys. You did not give me permission to cum, Master. Perhaps you should punish me again?"
She steeled herself, I could feel her resolve, and then she raised herself up and away from my chest. With a grace that would make a Polar Bear envious, she rolled over so that we were facing each other; without a splash. She pulled her knees up under her and positioned her legs between mine.
With sure hands, she loosened the wet cloth of my fly and dug out the flaccid length of my cock. She took a deep breath and immersed her face, sucking the entire length into her mouth. Her gentle ministrations produced the predictable effect and the swelling, lengthening shaft eventually forced her face out of the water. She continued bobbing on the shaft, until it had reached its full hardness.
Sally then rose up slightly, lifting her head to look me directly in the eye. We locked gazes. She held my eyes as if in a vice as she took her own hands and cupped her injured breasts. I felt the searing pains she felt as she forced my fierce hardness between her pliant orbs and gave me the tit-fucking I had thought about earlier.
"How? How did you know I was thinking about doing this to you?"
She smiled that vague, mysterious smile women have. Then she let me off the hook.
"I was peeking. I watched you in the mirror. This was really hard on you, wasn't it?"
I nodded, shamed by her tenderness.
"Poor baby. Let Mommy make it all better..." She tipped her head down and lightly kissed the head of my cock on the upstroke through her tit-meat. When she looked back at me, she was serious again. The love light never left her eyes as she moved her hands, forcing her striped tits up and down around her master's staff.
Our eyes never left the others' as she gave me this tender, painful gift, the gift of a slave to her master. To refuse her would have been to crush her needlessly.
I let myself go, released myself into her gift. I reached out, thinking I could ease the searing pain in her breasts. But when I sensed her, I found that she was reveling in her pain, her badge of honor. So instead of taking, I gave to her. I let her feel my pride in her, of my gratitude for her love, for the acknowledgement of the lesson she had taught me. I let her feel the depth of my sorrow, and she drew it out and away from me. She allowed me no sorrow, no regrets for her pain.
When I came, she caught my essence in her mouth, covering the spewing cap, sealing the leaks with her ruby lips.
Before she could swallow it all, I lifted her up to me and kissed her fiercely on the mouth. Her eyes opened in surprise as I shared the remainder of my cum with her, savoring and then swallowing for the first time the strange-tasting substance. Her single raised eyebrow queried me for a reason for this sudden change. I just smiled at her and kissed her again, softly.
We lay together like that for a long time, finally emerging for the cooling water with prune-like wrinkles all over.
Sally insisted on wearing her collar to bed that night. For a slave, she was very demanding sexually, more so than when she was not subservient. She was not satisfied until I had cum into every orifice, crevice, crack and cavity of her body. She discovered the same implants deep in her throat that Janey had discovered earlier in the evening. She found others even I hadn't known about. At least, I think they were implants. Might it have been love? When she was covered from her perky nose to her sexy toes in a sticky coat of my cum, only then did she lie quietly beside me.
I listened to her rhythmic breathing, wondering at this intricate woman and the direction our lives were now headed. I wondered at the unknown destination, as well. I felt as if we had crossed a major hurdle tonight, but I knew that several more remained. My mind, although relaxed, went over and over the events that had brought us to this point, reviewing and remembering. I don't remember falling asleep.
We all slept late, well into the next afternoon.