Return-path: <suelmann@shea.forwiss.uni-passau.de> Date: Sat, 10 May 1997 14:36:34 +0200 From: Michael Suelmann <suelmann@forwiss.uni-passau.de> Subject: 227 To: Ole.Joe@poboxes.com Check our new domain names! http://www.netforward.com v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v MRWADE.227 By Master Wade The Death of Doubt and The Birth of Surrender Copyright Wade Mondegam "No! I am NOT ready! You shouldn't have brought me here in the first place, and you can just step out of my way, because I am leaving. NOW!" The girl's hands were balled into fists, and her voice was metallic and laced with anger. Paul McCabe stood at the door with his arms crossed and listened. There was nothing about this outburst that surprised him, or even troubled him. "You aren't really angry at me, you know," he said, calmly. "The hell I'm not! What are you trying to pull, anyway? I told you I needed more time, and you just smiled that sarcastic smile that you think is so damn cute. Take me home, Paul! I mean it!" "You're angry with yourself, and afraid," he said, walking slowly toward her. "Come another step closer and I'll show you who I'm angry with! Don't mess with me!" Paul walked steadily toward her, and when she began swinging at him, caught her wrists and pulled her arms behind her, feeling her breasts push against his chest. "Stop!", she cried out, furiously. Paul covered her mouth with his and felt her teeth close on his tongue. "OUCH!", he screamed, jerking his head back. Then, quickly, he pushed her back toward the bed, and sitting on it, pulled her down across his lap. Struggling to free herself, the girl kicked and tried to escape the death grip he had on her wrists, to no avail. Somehow he was able to hold both her wrists with one hand, and she could hear his belt swishing through the loops on his slacks. Cold air hit her naked thighs as he roughly pushed her skirt up around her waist. She felt her panties rip as he pulled them down halfway to her knees with a violent jerk. "You aren't fighting me, Brenda, you're fighing yourself! Stop it!" The leather belt, doubled in his right hand, landed on her right ass cheek, sending a jolt of quickly fading but intense pain through her tender body. Brenda cried out and struggled harder, but the belt landed a second time, and a third, the pain disolving her resistance through it's insistent attack on her naked buttocks. By the tenth slap of the hard leather, the tears had begun, complicating her ability to focus on her initial anger. Now there was nothing but the searing jolt of the strapping she was getting and the underlying knowledge that she was powerless to stop it. "You are a vicious bitch!", Paul seethed. <WHACK!> "A stubborn, hard-headed, <WHACK!> difficult, impetuous, <WHACK!> aggravating as hell slut <WHACK!> who let's her own fear <WHACK!> stop her from doing <WHACK!> the very thing <WHACK!> that she wants most <WHACK!> in the whole world! <WHACK!> <WHACK!> <WHACK!> Brenda sobbed as the assault on her ass slowed to a halt. She had ceased to fight it long before it ended, and now that it was over, felt an odd sense of relief wash over her. The anger was gone now, replaced instead by a feeling of wholeness which both startled and surprised her. She was not happy at the humiliation she had endured, nor pleased with her still-smarting buttocks, but the frustrating emptiness she had felt for so many days and weeks was now more distant even than the comfortable bungalow she called home. Releasing his grip on Brenda's wrists, Paul watched as she slid off his lap into the floor, resting her head on his leg and curling her arms around his calves to hug them tightly. "We can go now if you want," he said, smoothing her almost black hair with his hand. Saying nothing, Brenda simply shook her head, indicating a negative response to his suggestion. "If we stay, this is it, Brenda," he said, softly. "No more waiting, no more time, no more pretending not to want it. Do you understand?" Now she nodded, tears still coming from her eyes, and hugged his legs more tightly. "I mean it, Brenda. Your fear has made us both suffer enough. This doesn't have to be nearly so difficult. I can't give you up, though you've certainly made me think that I should, and you know I can't. But you've controlled our relationship through your resistance and denial, and you simply cannot continue to do that." Brenda Phillips, proud President and major stockholder of Fantasy Cruises, Inc., a self-made woman with two separate Master's degrees and numerous awards from industry associations, stood quietly and began removing her clothing. There were still tears on her cheeks, and her long brown hair hung in disaray, framing her pretty face. Her fingers trembled slightly as she slowly removed each article of clothing, folding it and adding it to a growing pile on the couch beside Paul. Paul watched quietly, inwardly thrilled at the symbolism of Brenda's actions, as well as by her incredible beauty. He felt his pulse race as he watched her unclasp each garter and as she slid the stockings off her shapely legs. When she was totally nude, Brenda sat in the floor in front of Paul, her knees apart so as to expose her sex, her hands clasped behind her straightened back, her breasts pushed outward and upward, the hard nipples pink little stones. "I am totally yours, Master," she said, softly, her eyes fixed on his. "May I service my Master? Please?" Paul opened his legs and unzipped his pants as he motioned with his hand for her to come to him. Rising softly onto her knees, Brenda moved between her Master's legs, reached inside her his pants and removed his member, her small hand guiding it gently toward her lipstick coated lips and hungry mouth. Paul gathered his slavegirl's hair in his hands, luxuriating in the fullness of it and in the wonderful feeling of her suckling. Holding him inside her mouth and gently caressing the shaft with her lips, Brenda felt him harden inside her, his cock lengthening and growing in girth, requiring her to open her lips further, and then further again. When she felt that he was ready, Brenda raised her head, allowing her Master's cock to slide from her mouth. Encircling it with her hand and stroking it slowly, her tongue reached forth to caress the head, licking around the rim, and then down the length of his shaft. Over and over she teased his cock, taking it into her mouth from time to time to feel it's thickness and hardness against her lips and tongue, sighing softly to herself at the joy she always felt when taking a man's turgid member into her mouth. Paul allowed the beautiful woman to play with his cock for some time, thrilled by the sight of cock in her face, jolted from time to time by the pleasure her mouth brought him. But finally he chose to be inside her, and when she tried to raise her head yet another time, he pushed it back down firmly until he felt the head of his thick cock pushing against the opening of her throat, then pushing yet more firmly until he was in it, the head thick and stuffing her, requiring her to breathe through her nose. Paul felt her push back against his hold on her, testing him, but he continued to hold her fast, keeping her stuffed with dick. It was not more than she could give, or he would have released her, and it pleased him to look at her head buried in his lap, feeling her throat tight against the head of his penis. She was a beautiful woman, a precious girl, a brilliant strategist in business matters, intellectually superior to most people Paul had known, supremely capable in all things, and now she was his slave and filled with his fuck meat. Such thoughts gave rise to his passion, and Paul lifted the girl's head, allowing her lips to stroke him to the rim of his glans and just past it, then pushing her head back down firmly to fuck into her throat yet again. He repeated this lifting and dropping of her head as he held her hair tightly in his fists, pushing his hips up toward her to drive the cock deeper into his precious slut's face, giving her all the Master dick she could handle and poking some into her throat as well. Faster and faster the head rose and fell, and faster and faster the cock worked inside her, until finally Paul could stand it no longer and began spewing his fuck into her, his cock lodged tightly into her throat, it's thickness throbbing with each jerk of the muscle that pushed into her on all sides, as stream after stream of slick white man sperm squirted down the tube to her belly. Panting, Paul let his hands fall away from her head and dropped them to his sides, watching as Brenda eased the still hard meat from her mouth and licked it gently, getting all of his cum, and savoring it with genuine hunger. She milked him softly with her clenched fist, draining him of every drop, and when she had done so, continued to hold him softly as she lay her head on his thigh and rested. Paul lifted the handset from the telephone on the table next to him and dialed the number of the gatehouse. "It's okay now, Tony, you can unlock the gate. Did you do as I asked earlier? Okay. Yes, now." Brenda listened quietly, her head still on her Master's leg. She had been locked in and could not have escaped by car even if she had tried, at least not without Paul along. It hardly mattered now, though, she thought to herself, as she felt a cool drop of cum leak from Paul's cock onto her wrist. There would be no more running for her now, no more escape, no more denial of her love for him or the incredible need she felt to submit...not just to submit...but to submit to him. As she thought these thoughts she felt a wave of relief wash over her, cleansing her, taking away the lonely emptiness she had felt for so long. Before, she had struggled diligently to find fulfilment in all of life, yet there had always been something missing. How incredible that this final surrender could be the missing piece, the one thing that she needed more than any of the others, and which she had fought tooth and nail all the way. "You won't always feel as you do now, you know," Paul said, his voice soft and cautioning. "What do you mean, Master?", she asked, turning her head to look up at him. "Tomorrow, the day after, perhaps even later on today...I don't know when it will be, but you will feel very unsubmissive and you will wonder if your submission to me is real or not." "No, Master. You're wrong. I know that I mean it this time." "No, you will wonder, and you will doubt, and you will grow angry with yourself for doubting and angry with me that I would let that doubt touch you. And you will doubt me as well, wondering if I can possibly be the one, the Master that you can trust enough to give it all to." "I'll never doubt you, Master," Brenda said, her voice tinged with hurt at the very thought of it. "Oh, but you will, precious slavegirl. And when you do I will hurt inside, because I will remember how hard you fought me at first, and I will know that you could easily fight me yet again." "Master, I am your slave. Not just now, but always. Forever." "Yes, you are. But you must know that you will not always feel it, that it will not always be a burning passion inside you. You must know that and you must not be surprised when those feelings come, because they will." "Don't say these things, Master. I will not let them be so." "You will not be able to stop it from happening, Brenda. It will be as the tide, strong and undeniable, and you will sometimes see it coming and you will fight it and deny it and pray for relief from it, but it will come just the same and overwhelm you." "But you will see it and you will hold me tight to you and I will know who I am and that I am yours, Master." "Yes, I will see it. And I will hold you tight to me. But it will not be enough, and the doubt will come and the fear will rise in your throat, and you will cry out once again with loneliness and emptiness and the feeling of not being who you know you are in your heart." "Then what can I do, Master? What must I do when this happens? Tell me, for I would only be yours in all ways and at every moment." "Just as one cannot fight the coming of the tide, you must not attempt to fight these feelings, Brenda. You must, instead, accept them and work within them. You must see them for what they are, and not let your fear turn them into something they are not. They are the normal doubts that will come to you. They are NOT a sign that you have chosen poorly, or that you are lacking in some way as a slave. Neither of us has the power to keep them from us, but both of us have the power to keep them in their place." "I know I can do it, Master, for you will be strong for me, and I will lean on you." "Yes, I will be strong for you. But I will have my own moments of doubt and fear as well, Brenda. And I will sometimes lean on you and will know that all will be well. But there will be other times when we cannot lean on each other at all, and when we simply will have to stand together through these times, not allowing anything to move us apart, even though we do not at all feel close to one another." "I don't ever want to feel that, Master." "Nor do I, slavegirl, but I know those times will come. And when they do, I will be steady in my resolve to not be swept away, and you must be as well. And the good times will return, and the closeness will come back to us, and each time we stand together against the tide of doubt and fear our love and trust in each other will deepen and grow stronger." "I do love you, Master," Brenda said, resting her head again on his leg. "And I will always love you," Paul replied, gently. Taking a manilla envelope from the table next to the couch, Paul opened it, removing a leather collar which had been made for just this occasion. "Raise your head, slavegirl," he said, softly. Brenda sat up, assuming the position she knew was expected of her. The sight of the collar in his hands thrilled her, and she felt a tingling begin deep within her body. "This is more than an example of the leather-crafter's art, Brenda, and more than something for you to wear. It is a symbol of the very deepest surrender you are capable of making. It will serve as a reminder to you of this moment, and the promises you make to me as you become totally mine. What you give to me now is not only your sex, though it is entirely mine in every way. What you give me now is your steadfast obedience and unflinching service in all things." Paul placed the collar around the beautiful woman's neck as she held her long hair out of the way for him. When he had fastened the clasp, he touched her cheek gently with the back of his fingers, and opened his arms as she rose to kiss him and to seal the giving of herself to him as his slave. Tony opened the gate to allow the car to enter the long winding driveway. Inside the sedan, the three men sat without speaking, each filled with his own mixture of anticipation and excitement. It was not the first mission of this type they had shared, nor the first time that Paul had called to ask for their help. But there was always an element of mystery and intrigue when there was a new slavegirl involved. Paul had told them that this one was very special. They were about to find out just how right he was.