Kelly White Days in the life. Tales of Dominance and submission. To those people who love the lifestyle. 
 
 
 Sweet Mary's Hair. 
 "You’re welcome." Said the pretty woman who’d asked me what I wanted to drink and then come back with a straight scotch in her hand. She smiled a warm and glowing smile as I took it from her. Petite and somehow pleasantly curvy, I became aware that I was eyeing her all over. 
 What the fuck am I doing here? I asked myself that once again, silently but not really meaning it. The divorce was only a few months old and had included a change of continent, job and outlook. I was here to do what a man free of burdens does. I was going to go after those things my marriage had always denied me. “I’ve never seen you in here before.” the pretty girl said as she smiled, short dark hair bobbed about her ears as she lifted her chin, looking around the huge, onetime warehouse. It was beginning to fill up as the night progressed. “I’m new in town, well- just recently back from a long time in Europe, you’re right, I’ve never been here before. “ I told her that and took a sip, going on after the burning liquid had traversed my throat. “This is good whiskey, thank you!” 
 She was wearing a collar and that did, indeed, force my eyes back to places that were more trouble free than her breasts and thighs. “We’re always glad to see new people come in, my master was just bitching the other day about how seeing the same faces all the time was getting boring. That’s him over there.” She pointed toward a man across the room, the guy was pleasant looking and had the sort of easy aura about him that I liked. The kind of guy you could talk to without getting under each other's skin. That made me calm down a bit, I was living a fantasy and my stomach was still a little freaked out by it all. “So far, it’s been as easy to swallow as warm pudding.” I told her, then found myself grinning and just let myself enjoy the conversation. “You don’t have a slave.” She said, and it wasn’t a question. 
 I took another look and saw a face that had gone into matchmaker mode. I know that look! Some women just shift gears and go to work as soon as they see a single man. I suppose they can’t help it, but I was in no hurry to change things, not yet. “No, I don’t- I just went through a divorce-“ She was nodding and had grabbed my elbow, gently pulling at it as though following her would be the most natural thing in the world for me to do.  The power of politeness had me walking right with her. “Well, let me see- you’re a quiet one, I’ll bet you don’t REALLY like a lot of people or parties- yeah- I’ll bet you came here on the spur of the moment, didn’t you?” She was going on and on, ostensibly talking to me but I could feel her mind holding up pictures of single submissives, matching them one by one to my new met face and I was about to put my foot down when something she said came through my inner alarm bells. 
 “You aren’t the only new face in here tonight, Sir- there she is!“ She smiled and somehow managed to make the simple hand gesture feel like a grand “Taa-daaa.” She was pointing to a gal sitting on what looked like an old piano stool and I just stopped, stopped and wallowed in the sight of the lushest fall of hair I’d seen in forever. When I came back to the present, the collared girl beside me was talking to her, tapping her shoulder politely. “Mary, it  is  Mary, right?” She beamed on receiving a nod in the affirmative and half swivelled back to address me as the woman turned a curious face to us, to me, saying “Yes, I’m Mary.“ 
 My breath caught in my chest and I smiled very slow as those green eyes came into view. “I’m sorry, Sir, I didn’t catch your name-“ I told her and she nodded, then wandered off just as two smiles merged to become one and my always too bold finger moved of its own accord, taking that first touch of- sweet Mary’s hair. 
 
 
 
 Strictly Speaking. 
 Thunder crashed outside of the night dark window and the man took another small pull of tepid wine. He’d poured the goblet on getting in, hours ago. It was a large goblet, but despite the time he’d just held it there, it wasn't anywhere near empty. He’d not wanted to let alcohol influence him. The rain began in earnest as the door opened, a small breeze smelling of ocean and fresh winds pushed past that door and ran into the living room from the hallway. Cool and fresh, it caused him to raise his head expectantly, only one person would come in without knocking.  
 He watched her silently as she entered and took off her coat. Water was dripping from it and he wondered idly if she'd walked home. He didn't say hello and she seemed too nervous to do so. With a slow nod in greeting, he took another sip and watched her disappear into the hallway. The bathroom, most likely, that would be where she was headed, women always seemed to make that their first stop on getting home. Yeah, he thought as the wine numbed a throat that was locked tight with the hours of silent waiting, she'd walked. She’d dawdled in the rain and chill, letting him wait rather than hurry what had to be coming. 
 “Are you angry with me?“ She asked and he considered that as she came back into the room. She paused at the door then walked to the liquor cabinet, getting out the wine that she could see he was drinking, pouring a fresh goblet and slinking up to him, changing it out as he opened his fingers. It would not do to let his anger undermine the lessons of the past, she was doing as she was supposed to. But his eyes were hard, dark spots that she didn't seem to want to meet. 
 “It’s just-” He liked the way she smiled when she started to explain, it was a bright smile and yet, somehow uncertain, he stayed wrapped in his silence as she went on. “I haven’t seen Jenny in over two years– " She paused and he felt her hands on his shoulders, she was caressing his neck the way she knew he liked it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think, just didn't think, that’s all.” 
 “Think is what you didn't do, that’s true.” That was all he said, just those words let out in a raspy rumble as he sipped of the fresh wine. She blanched and turned, seeking refuge in the kitchen. She would be back, he knew that, she had no other choice. He went over the afternoon, again, mulling it in his mind. They’d had coffee with old friends and she’d asked him to leave her there to reminisce with a girlfriend that she hadn’t heard from in a very long time. 
 On the surface the transgression wasn't huge, as transgressions go, but on the surface was not where they lived. She came back into the room and stood in the doorway, he’d made no secret of his displeasure at being put off, speaking in his quiet way, using the codes that only he and she shared, he'd let her know that she would pay for her slip of the tongue. She’d snapped at him in an angry tone of voice as he’d reminded her politely that he wanted to leave. Moreover, she'd done that in front of witnesses, forced his hand in a situation that he couldn't control. It was as though she wanted his anger, needed to feel him turn cold and unforgiving. 
 No, he doubted that she was that calculating. Not when he looked at the way she was now fidgeting there, in the doorway. She’d just forgotten her- her place. On the table beside his elbow was his belt, he’d taken it off for comfort after the sort of lunch that any bachelor would appreciate. If he was going to be alone, he'd decided he might as well eat the way he once would have. Apparently he wasn't going to be alone. 
 He lifted his face up from his study of the table, the belt on it and spoke. “Lower the blinds and come here.” He couldn't keep the hard edge out of those words, they were his ire made audible and they had an effect on her, she flinched as though he'd raised his hand to slap her face. Maybe he hadn't wanted to keep the edge out, maybe he wanted her to feel it in full measure.  
 She did as he’d told her to and then shuffled reluctantly toward his chair once the room was shielded from the outside world, the blinds made what went on here, in their home, opaque and occult to outside eyes. He had all the lights on and it was bright enough to make shadows a figment of the imagination in the room. He wanted to see, he wanted her to know he was watching, everything. She came to his call so slowly that it tried his patience, drawing out that arrival at his knee while he stared at her eyes with  that  look, stared so long that she began to stammer before she could get down on hands and knees. 
 “Gods damn it, don’t look at me like that, all I said was that if you needed to go home, you should– I’m a big girl… Fuck!” He still didn't say a word, setting the wine glass down silently and picking the belt up in it's place, curling it slowly into a loop that swung out and dangled before her eyes. He held it there for a very long time before dragging that length of good leather up and over her blouse covered back. The tiny skirt that he liked her to wear was stretched taut over her ass and he thought she would cry out as he shifted forward in the chair. 
 “Only?”  
 He’d gone, too, turned on his heel and left without another word, and he’d waited for her to find her way home, waited here– for hours and hours of long thought. “Only disobeyed me-“ She did cry out, then, briefly before she got control of herself, cried out loud and in obvious pain as he brought that width of black leather down hard onto the curved spine of her back. Again that teacher’s tool fell over her soft flesh and her fingers made fists that scraped ineffectually at the thick carpet, seeking a hold where there was none. It was bad enough to have earned such a spanking through disrespect, a lack of self control and disobedience, she knew what he thought of a slut who couldn't control her body during punishment. 
 “Only– disrespected me!” Again, he used the belt, it fell with loud slaps onto her ass and the back of her thighs this time, his anger was there but he worked hard to keep it out of his essence, away from the hand that was disciplining her. That wasn't an easy thing to do, but he prided himself on trying to, you don’t do these things in anger, ever. He didn't stop until her forehead had hit the carpet and she was crying openly. The sound of her anguished voice a sweet/bitter wrench that made his heart sing, his soul sting and his cock harden in loose denim. 
 It was over, for now, the belt rolled up and placed onto the table and traded for the wine goblet as he sat back into the chair. It was then that she finally moved from where she’d been sobbing into her arms, sliding around to hug his knees. Tightly. It was that way, sometimes. Tears were earned and he was sure she was already looking happier about the eyes, she hated it when she fucked up, hated it when he thought ill of her. It would be a long while before something like this happened again, well, maybe not that long, his bitch always did seem a lot more loving after such things happened. 
 The thunder had stopped and the rain had gone gentle as he let the back of his knuckles touch her lips lightly, letting her know it would be okay. “I love you, dear“ he said before standing and leading her to the bedroom. They needed to go to bed, tomorrow would be a busy day.  
 Just another day- In the life… 
   
 
 
 
 Resolution 
 "You can do it, I know you can.“ 
 He said and his smile was easy as he affixed the collar about her throat, pulling the material of her light blouse down away from the thin and very elegant band. She had insisted on elegant and he’d agreed with her. “You look pretty, you’ll be the hit of the party.” She swallowed and stared in the mirror that he so loved. It was a pretty thing, the sort of mirror that you just didn't find anymore, unless you went to garage sales and flea markets. The woodwork was handcrafted and the years lay over it like a palpable blanket. The thing stood on a base of dark oak, an oval mirror easily as long as she was tall that could be swiveled along it’s longest axis. He loved the mirror, there were times she hated it, he thought, like now. 
 “I’ve never worn my collar in public-“ Her eyes widened as the realization struck her again of what he had planned, what he would insist on, what she would do. He’d been enjoying that look of awe and shock that came over her pretty cheeks and eyes all day, it happened ever more frequently as the time drew near for them to go. “You want to lead me in on a leash, along a public street.” Her voice went husky on that last word and he laughed, pulling her close and kissing the spot below her ear. “I do, I will. Don’t worry...” He let his hand slide up between her legs, pushing the short skirt that he'd chosen for her to wear into a heavy bunch at her waist. He loved the sight of her thighs bared, almost as much as he loved the feel of her cunt. 
 Elegance 
 She was waxed there, loving that for herself as well as knowing how much it pleased him to feel her bare and smooth. Hard fingers caressed her softness while he set about reassuring her quietly. “It’s a big city and no one we know could possibly be anywhere near where we'll be. Think about how it will feel baby-“ Another kiss to her neck and he slipped a finger into the folds of labia that were like a soft portal to the dark tightness of her body. She twisted in his arms and looked him dead in the eye, speaking seriously as he tried to ease her mind of the fears that she'd shared with him since he’d first outlined his desire. “Please, walk fast-“ Her cheeks flamed with whatever thoughts went through her mind at the idea that he would probably not- walk fast. “Please!” 
 Thirty minutes later, after one trip down a cloverleaf, then back up onto the highway after he realized he’d missed the right exit, and they were there. He parked the car and half turned in his seat to look at her. “It’s time baby. Are you ready?” He’d not made conversation on the way over and she'd been content to stare out at the passing buildings and streets of a city that they both had decided to move away from some years ago. The suburbs were more peaceful, but it wasn't memories that held her quiet. His girl was struggling with this. “Yes- “ she said fast. „No- hell, master.” He smiled as she used the word, taking the thin leash from his jacket pocket and slapping the coiled length into his palm. “Maybe tomorrow, I’m not sure…“ 
 His voice overrode hers as he opened the car door, speaking before stepping up and out of the vehicle. “I am, come on.” He was around the car and waiting as her door opened, she knew enough to obey and that made him happy, happy somewhere deep inside. It would be a good evening. The coming night was a first for them as a couple, one that had been a fast year in the shaping. “Come on, give me your neck.” He spoke in easy tones, you used calm tones if you wanted a calm girl and right now she needed him to be sure and certain. He said nothing as she took the time to look in the mirror, check her make-up and then scan his eyes for what felt like minutes. It probably wasn't minutes, but it felt like that. Then the waiting broke as she pushed her face into the palm of his hand, nuzzling, needing that warmth. Surprisingly, he found he needed it too. 
 Both of them listened intently as the clasp of the black leather leash clicked into the ring of her collar. “I’m ready– Master“ was all she said after taking a deep breath and he could hear the resolute force of her will in those few words. He helped her out of the car, closed the door and took her in as she stood there. She was on a public street, in fuckslut heels, a skirt that fell to just below the thigh highs he'd insisted on and a blouse suitable for the hot weather they’d been having. Her cheeks were absolutely flaming, as he made sure the doors were locked, the windows were up, and did he have the keys? 
 “Goddamn baby-“ He whistled low, a whistle meant only for her and one he could see she appreciated. “You look stunning, let’s go, the party should be starting soon. I don’t want to be late.” She still had an almost hunted look about her eyes but fell in beside him as he walked toward the house, number thirty-four, and rang the bell next to the name marked “Tawse.“ 
 The area was not really inner city, being a neighborhood of small single family homes that had been built in the late forties or early fifties. This neighborhood had been the suburbs, once, before the city swallowed them whole. They had to leave the open sidewalk for a smaller one that was lined by a tall hedge and he laughed quietly as she relaxed visibly. The laugh earned him a very dirty look that he accepted, hey, subs were human too, she was doing what he wanted her to do and he wouldn't get petty over a dirty look. 
 Not today. 
 The doorbell button was found and he pushed it then turned to pull her in for a quick kiss before the door was opened. A pretty redhead in a collar and unbuttoned shirt over dark silk stockings and nothing more smiled, asked his name politely, and looked at the leash running between his hand and his girl’s throat before admitting them into the house. 
 Everything changed as the door closed behind them, the bitch on his leash was instantly different, markedly so, feeling the acceptance of the servant that had opened the door, feeling the ambience of a place that understood why- She had walked along a public street with a leash on her neck. 
 She smiled at him after he'd said his hellos and introduced her as his property, going to her knees beside the chair he'd taken. He petted her cheek with the back of his fingers slowly before turning his eyes to the exhibition that the host had planned to start the evening. The girl who’d opened the door for them was being chained to stout rings that hung from the ceiling and thrust up from the wooden floor while her master, presumably, detailed what was about to happen. “Thank you- Master.“ He heard it and simply nodded, feeling the touch of her lips to the back of his hand as he looked at the woman who had willingly become his slave. There was no need for thanks, he thought, this was what he did, he taught her to be what she needed to be. 
 “I love you, pet” 
 The whisper was lost to any ears save those that needed to hear it most, sliding out to touch her mind as the night began. 
 Just another day in... The life. 
 
 
 
 Desperado 
 It was one of those parties I really hated to attend, a private house several income brackets above my own and filled with people who just knew they were better than me, all gauged by the size of their wallet and the measure of their corporate success.  
 I work construction, operating a piece of machinery and actually earn more money, in the summer anyway. But I like jeans and flannel shirts. Fuck them, I liked my life for the most part. 
 What in the world had drawn me to this place? My buddy Sven, A German engineering student that was working with our crew for a year to gain experience and learn the language had dragged me away from my Thursday night routine of two beers, a joint and go to sleep at ten. Five in the morning comes early and a twelve hour workday kinda makes you stoned all by itself, after awhile, anyway. They had good taste in beer here, though, and not a single one of the very self assured women I saw walking left and right around me was chewing tobacco. 
 That was a definite plus and I decided I might as well get comfortable and enjoy the scenery, took a place on one of the couches and simply watched the Paris Hilton generation walk by, their faces pretty, their nipples straining at every mention of a BMW and their minds as empty as the cocktail glasses they were carrying with them. 
 No one was talking; it was almost surreal. Not the kind of thing I would call talk, anyway. Come on, we moved dirt and build things for a living, but I had kind of hoped I would at least get into some sort of political debate among this type of crowd, operating a noisy scraper leaves you in your own head for way too long, I was in need of some outside stimulation. See, I like to talk, I enjoy expressing myself and this party was becoming severely boring, seriously fast. 
 Sven and his chosen playmate had gone out to sit beside the pool, it was a warm night and I didn’t blame them. She was a looker and I raised my beer to him as he looked back to check on me.  He called me Opa, the German word for Gramps. Hell, I guess the forties look old as hell to the mid twenties, they say a man grows more distinguished looking- maybe. 
 The men and girls shuffled around each other in a sort of brownian movement for the better part of an hour when my first beer was suddenly empty, well, there was only one thing to do about that and I hitched my large ass up from the comfortable sofa and went looking for the party bar. Every party seems to need a bar and a self styled DeeJay anymore, I was right, this one had both. The bar was actually built into the floor plan and the Deejay was doing a pretty good job. Someone must have found an Eagles greatest hits cd from somewhere because Desperado came on as the pretty thing behind that bar popped the top from a Heineken, handing it to me with a smile before she turned to ask the other person waiting there what she was drinking. That person immediately captured my interest. she was dark haired and pretty, a bit older than most of the flesh circulating about, which I liked, and she was short, that was immediately apparent, as was the tee shirt she wore. 
 It was printed with boldly black block letters squarely over full tits. 
 …Slave… 
 She must have seen my look, the way my right eyebrow rose Spocklike into my forehead in curious appreciation.  It's a shirt, they say all kinds of things nowadays, anyone can buy a shirt. 
 “You look bored.” She smiled and I became aware that she wasn't as young or as reticent as most of the women scattered all about the place. Who talks to an old man, anyway? Desperado went off only to be replaced by some sort of rap and I made a sad sound. 
 “Yeah, I am, it's not my kind of thing, this. As far as I'm concerned, they could have played that album all the way through.” She giggled then, turning to place an elbow on the bar and I could see she was drinking something that had the color of whiskey, I could also see she was wearing a skirt that could be either too short or a bit risqué, depending on whether you were at church or at a party. Nice legs, that was immediately clear as well. “No one calls them albums anymore, most of the kids here would go blank if you said that word. I’m Marsha-“ She held out a small hand and I took it, being careful not to squeeze too hard as I shook the ladies hand, a handshake that I held for just a moment too long. 
 “That's a nice shirt, slavery has been abolished for a while now, I remember when Mr. Lincoln-“ She giggled again and it made her breasts do really wonderful things as she pulled air into her lungs. “Oh now, you're not that old, your moustache is a bit grey but still, I bet you aren’t over forty-five“ I nodded in agreement with her and took another sip of the beer, suddenly finding it flat and tasteless. 
 “Besides which-“ She had a way of enunciating things clearly, speaking clean and yet, her voice was just the sort of soft/husky that drove me to think really dark things. Her legs weren't helping me retain my calm air of disinterest either. If her body and speech were giving me hell, the woman’s next words cinched it, I was in lust. “Not all slavery has been abolished. Some girls like that shit.” And she winked. 
 Hey, what can I say? How often do you meet someone like that? There was a signal but one thing is proven daily anymore, women don’t always mean what they're saying during small talk, they flirt and a man has to be very careful about interpreting what he's hearing.  I have to be frank here, the kind of sex I like, well- It could almost be considered assault if a man misjudged his partner- almost. I decided to let the thing drop, smiled at her and said, “Sure, masters and slaves in the new millennium. I think I read a book sometime. I’m going to catch some air, it was nice talking to you. Marsha.” 
 I passed Sven and his girlfriend; they were necking heavily so I assumed she'd be his next lover, maybe just a night’s fuck though and none of my concern. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I was horny, that was the other reason I had come to this party. My last woman had left a couple of months back, I’d been too hard on her, I know I'm not easy for a woman to live with. As a matter of fact, I had decided to never again hook up with what people I knew well termed “Vanilla” women. Fucking them only brought a physical release, a very unsatisfactory one at that. You have to realize that a man like me spends hours wondering why he needs to slap a woman, needs her to yell and shout and break for him, wonders why simple pussy, good pussy and easy sex, don’t do it for him. 
 In the end, you just accept it and go on; otherwise you go nuts. 
 I pulled the small bag of weed I'd brought with me out of a pocket once I sat down onto a bench near a huge rhododendron, slowly rolled a nice, thick joint and kicked myself in the ass, mentally. Her shirt had said “Slave“ What if it had been more than just a shirt she bought at some store? But to err on the side of caution is perhaps better, I sparked the joint and decided I didn't need a frustrating night of hearing “No, I'd  never  do that for any man” or an assault charge. It paid to be sure. Still, the whole thing had turned my mood sour and I was slightly pissed at my own lack of initiative. 
 “I thought you wanted fresh air, can I have some of that?” I looked up at the lady, Marsha, saw she was alone and simply offered the joint to her, our fingers touched as she took it, standing before me, she inhaled hard on the spliff as I considered, truth or an excuse. The weed started giving me a clarity that alcohol never could and I simply told her how it was. “All those young people were making me feel old. And I was having terribly dark thoughts about you and your shirt. Better for all concerned if I leave for awhile.” 
 The girl was a cool one, I have to give her that, she hit the joint a second time then handed it back to me, asking “Do you mind if I sit? I wait tables and my feet are killing me. I like the idea of some men having dark thoughts about me” I nodded, speaking quietly between little pulls on the joint while thinking over her words carefully. Very carefully. “I don’t mind, it’s a free country“ She sat on the bench and did the oddest thing, a man always considers himself a hunter, but sometimes you have to wonder at the reality of that, she put both hands behind her head and lifted one leg up, letting it ease onto my lap. Light from the back of the house barely fell back here, but the moon was near to full and I could see her clearly. “Yeah, it is- ain’t it a bitch? 
 That brought my head up, moving away from where her legs disappeared under the skirt and I bent a little, watching her face as one hand closed about her ankle, lifting the other leg to lay it next to the one that was resting on my thigh. “Slavery was terrible, I'm glad we have freedom.“ Marsha nodded and the fall of her hair was a soft gleam in the moonlight, a dark glimmer that I liked. “Non-consensual slavery is bad, and the world don’t need it, but consensual slavery, well, like I said-” 
 She stared at me through heavy lidded eyes as she talked and my hands simply knocked the low pumps from her feet, my face stayed impassive but you know, you can feel when the mood changes, when polite talk becomes a dance that ends up in a certain place, or doesn't. 
 “Some girls like that shit, I do-“ 
 She left it to hang there as I ran a hand up her leg. What the hell- she was my kind of woman in a lot of ways and I pushed my hand under her skirt there in the dark, cupping her thigh easily for a long moment. I don’t like to rush things, I like to be certain of things, and so I asked her the thing that was on my mind. “You followed me, why?” She shot back an answer so fast that had it been a bullet I would have been bleeding. “You didn't grope me after seeing my shirt. You didn't make a stupid remark, you didn't assume I would fall over for anything with a penis-“ She smiled and her teeth were pretty, strong and white as she laughed a throaty laugh. 
 “You would not  believe  some of the things I have to put up with when I wear this shirt.” I squeezed the thick part of her thigh, enjoying the hidden warmth as I realised I had hardened, painfully. “Yeah, I would, trust me, I would!“ All the times of broaching the subject delicately to a girl who might be, the stupid jokes, the shocked faux horror, men get it too, but still, your need drives you to always find out. “We get it too“ I said, my mouth echoing my thoughts. Then I wormed my hand further toward her belly and received the most pleasant surprise. Marsha wasn't wearing panties, a thing that always drives me into lovely certitude, and I touched her clit with the barest of touches. 
 “So, if you're a slave, there must be a Master around somewhere, does he let you pick up older men at parties.” She laughed again and opened her legs enough to accommodate my hand without letting one fall from my lap, shaking her head nearly vehemently at my question. “There was, he's gone, found something better.” I could hear the heartache in that, hidden though it was, no one likes rejection and I know a bit about the rejection of a master. 
 “Gone, yeah- It happens pretty girl...“ I pushed my index finger into her body. I watched her face, there in the low light of a silver moon, she simply closed her eyes for a long moment and her body shuddered so, I could swear she had cum. “I know a bit about that too.“ I did, too. I think at my age, well, we've all been through it. The joint had burned out as we talked and I found myself moving to lean over her, my hand suddenly at the back of her neck as I curled her body up, toward me, toward a hard kiss, a tongue fuck that I was finding I needed, badly. 
 “Damn bitch-“ It just spilled from my mouth, spoken into hers as we shared, I took, she offered, another kiss, my one finger joined by another in her pussy, trying to reach her belly as things became super clear to me. My words were loud but soft in my own hearing, the party sounds only a low background in the distance as we shared a moan, a growl- a sentiment.  “I need you” 
 
 
 
 Poetry Interregnum 
 
 His living doll 
 
   
 Kneeling there in sunlight soft 
 Porcelain perfection, still 
 Silent, my heart overflows 
   
   
 
 Proofs 
 
   
 Show me your deep love 
 Proofs exist in the doing 
 Hard eyes miss nothing. 
   
   
 Pain . 
   
 Pain, do you know me?  
 Have you seared my inner places with the light of crimson fires? You have, betimes. Perhaps we bring it on ourselves, the lust for knowledge a gate to Hells.  
 Hells of emotion and tears salty flow, of nights spent lonely, thinking slow.  Sigh, and look around, what was that familiar sound.  Ah, a heart as it falls in two. 
 Hurt, have you scourged enough, this thing inside, my own soul-stuff? Is it done, and why? What are lessons to be learned hereby? Lessons that teach of pain and joy, sometimes more than I'd employ. 
 But looking back at all the pains, from childhoods wounds to darkest drain, of love and light from a face stricken hard, wisdom lays shining among those shards. If I am but strong enough, to bend and pick them free, even then, that knowledge sets bright blood free. 
 Pain, I believe, the human condition, I perceive. 
 Pain. 
 
 
 
 Tiny Tee shirt. 
 "I’m not gonna wear that, not even for you!“ I smiled and nodded at her from where I leaned with my ass against the old, dark windowsill of the farmhouse. The afternoon sunlight lit her half nude body where she stood before a mirror and warmed my back as I watched, amused at her little tantrum. 
 I like the long blonde hair she has and the full tits, that is why I was here- she turned me on. The little strip of black cloth that some people called a skirt looked good stretched over her ass as well.  I loved that ass, and I was really enjoying the blush on her face as she stood there in front of me, in front of a mirror, naked from the softly rounded belly up and holding the tiny half tee-shirt in her hand. I’d just told her we were going out for the evening and given her the things I had purchased for her to wear. She wanted to shred it, the tee-shirt, into bits of rag if the set of her mouth was any indication. Of course, we both knew that was not going to happen. 
 “Yes you will. You’ll wear it and feel like some cheap little slut as I show you off. It is what I want.” Her face went panicky and then exasperated as she asked for the tenth time, turning angrily away from the mirror to watch me. “Why!” It was almost a wail, she was getting into beg mode.  
 I figured she had decided that the sight of those tits winking at me on the bounce would ease my mood, that the big eyes looking up and vulnerable and a slightly desperate quiver to her chin would soften my resolve.  It almost worked, almost, but there are some things a man can let a girl get away with, others, never. This was a never.  “Baby please-“  Her voice went husky and she slid up to me, kissing my neck, whispering as my hand automatically cupped the smoothness of her woman heavy breast and squeezed, I was still in a playful mood, still. “Daddy- I’m a full figured woman, I just can’t wear a shirt like this, and it’s white!” She held it up over her body, pulling back to let me see how it barely covered the delicious swell of her at the bottom. “It might as well be see through- I’ll be showing everything.” We both knew it would be stretched nipple teasing tight once she was in it and I just nodded, smacking her ass and pulling at her hard enough to make her stumble into me. The slap was loud and her little “Ouch.” of pain was almost enough to make me lose my self control- I didn't dare, I had plans for tonight, for her, for the half tee shirt.  “I know, don’t worry, we won’t be going anywhere your mom or dad will be.” That brought a quick smile from her, her parents were the sort of people who appreciated the milder aspects of life. She didn't, she was definitely not her mother, the girl standing bathed in sunlight was a dark little cunt, which is why I was there.  “I won’t wear it, something longer and yes, this thing, no. No way-“  I slapped her then, fast and hard, it just does not do to let too many “No’s” come out of a stubborn woman’s mouth.  “Put it on, now.“ My hand had slid to her shoulder before scuttling up to her neck- this had turned into quite the little power play. It was a battle that I was sure I would win as that mean streak, that bit of rage that always moves through me once I’ve been disobeyed enough stung my mind, moved my hand to tighten fiercely on the column of muscles and soft flesh below her skull, shoving her body down onto her pretty knees..  Enough is enough. She started crying as I held her hard by the neck. I'm a fair man, I like to let a girl see all angles so I asked her quietly through the little sobs she was making, “Why not, pet, what bothers you about it?“ The slap had set her nose to running and she was tearing up, either from embarrassment or from the ringing blow I’d been forced to give her. I was impressed, she must really not want to wear the little tee shirt I'd bought for her.  She’s been trained, had the best training that a girl can have, an active dominant presence in her life. She'd been with me for a while now and she knew the tone of my voice. Her head dropped at that cold question but she said it loudly, her eyes sharp and defiant as she spit out what had to come.  “Because I don’t want to, I’ll look stupid.”  That pissed me off so much that I slapped her again as my teeth crunched hard against each other. “Look stupid to who- who besides me do you need to impress, pet?”  My voice was chill and angry as I tossed her head back from my waist. She was already trying to grab my leg- as I say, she knows me and knew how I see things. I fought for calm there, looking out of the window I had turned to as I let go of her, the one that looked out on the big chestnut tree and the backyard. We didn't have much time, it was a long drive to get far enough away that the local busybodies couldn't notice the little lesson I had in mind for her. Small town busy bodies were a plague and the infection was everywhere in this town.  Turning back, that ice-cold mask sliding over my face as my words took on an emotionless and distant cast to them, I walked a step to where she was sobbing quietly on her knees. It was not the slap, even though one hand was holding her cheek where I had reddened it, no, my pet liked that, she saw it as a sign of caring- No, it was her stubborn will in this, she was struggling. As she should, no one said this shit was easy, just worthwhile.  “So, what, you have some other motherfucker who you need to be sexy for? He has a different idea of what sexy is- what the fuck…“  I breathed in a slow lungful of air as I felt suspicion burn into my mind, seeking that crystalline place that comes when anger and equanimity balance.  “You been wriggling that ass for another man on me, bitch?” The very idea made me grab her hair and crane her neck way back until she had to look me in the face, leaving her with no choice and no place to look away. I knew my eyes were fiery, I could see it in the way she had a problem meeting them even as her mouth worked silently, trying to push words past her throat.  “No- OH HELL no, no, it's just, you're not a girl baby, you don’t understand-“  I shook her and bent down slowly, making sure I held her as tightly and painfully as I could.  “ I don’t want to understand, do you understand that!” Now I was breathing hard with the emotion and the sight of her tears smearing freshly applied mascara was evoking a response in my own mind. Tonight, control, I had plans.  “You will wear it, you will wear it because I want it. Put it on. NOW!”  I'd had enough of discussing it and let her go with a shake, my eyes hard on her as she slowly picked up the shirt from where it had fallen. It took forever, the lifting and sliding of that scrap of cloth over her head, the pulling down of it and that series of little adjustments a woman always needs to make until things sit “Right.“ I watched it all, nodding quietly when she was done.  “Good, that's good.“ I took the time then to pet her cheek, running the backs of my fingers over the bruise there. Just as I believe a woman has to be brought to heel quickly, I also believe she needs to be told when she has done well.  “You might need a little rouge on the other cheek, but I won’t tell you how to do your make-up-“  I looked at her for a long hard moment, she was still sullen, but that was fine, she’d get over it, she had to, nothing else was allowed. My pet was no easy girl to keep, but she was obedient, in the end. Stepping to the door I looked at where she stood before the mirror, she was smoothing cloth and pulling the shirt down as far as it would go, as though hoping the stretching would actually make it cover her belly.  I smiled, seeing that a tall man could easily see her nipples, the shirt was just barely legal in most American counties and combined with the skirt was grounds for a whore burning in some others.  Just right.  “I’m going to gas up the car, be ready in fifteen minutes, I don’t want to wait”  I smiled at her nod, she was dealing with it, getting used to it, after all, there was no real choice. “We have a long night ahead of us, pet.”  I said that quietly as I closed the door and went to get the car, chuckling easily on my way out.  It was true, and the morning would bring new challenges, of that I was sure. “Better?” I looked at her as she slammed the door to my old Dodge shut, it was one of those huge cars from the sixties, my Polara, and I loved it. Blue was a car that had a lot of room in it. I checked her over as she slithered into that huge bench seat and could not stop the small smile, well; smirk, actually, as I saw the long coat she was wearing. It went down to her calves and hardly fit the ninety-degree weather that was making things wetly miserable in the area.  “That’s a bit much isn’t it“ I asked as the shift lever hit the big D and all those horsepower moved us off past the neighbors house.  The neighbor, one miss Bitch Grundy, had the house with the most windows in our little part of the neighborhood and we were both convinced that had they not been there when she moved in, the busybody would have had them cut.  I grinned and pointed to a hastily drown curtain seen as we cruised by.  “Looks like your neighbor still thinks you’re a whore. I wonder if she knows how right she is. Put some music on will you?“ That brought a smile to her face even though she was still petulant, the way she had tossed her handbag in the window and her nearness to the door showed that. I shrugged mentally, concentrating on the traffic out of town until we had that behind us. I had more important things to worry about than a pissed off slave.  She fiddled with a vintage AM radio until she found a station that did Eminen about three times every twenty minutes and I ignored all of it after the second rendition.  “Where are we going baby?” It was about an hour into the drive before the silence broke, she’d been busy filing her nails and touching up the heavy powder or whatever it was she had put on her face. Whatever she used it worked, in a low light you could barely see her bruises. “Are we going to Cooter’s  I looked in the rearview mirror, watching a highway patrol car get busy and pull past us in a hurry. None of my business, I did the speed limits. “No, not Cooter's.” I took my eyes from the road long enough to give her a hard look, I wasn’t smiling. That silent half answer worked, she slid her ass a little closer and came within reach. My girl knows how I like to touch her and had shrugged out of the coat long since. Bitch Grundy made the coat necessary, but she was nowhere near now. Necessary, who needs extra trouble in a small town, but if she had tried to wear it into the club I had in mind she would have been in for another fight. Some things just don’t need to be said, however, not after enough time and lessons have gone by.  Lessons, tonight was going to be just exactly that, a lesson. “Oh good, I am so tired of Cooters, I am sick of the bitches there and the town it's in and- Oh baby- where are we goin’?“ She said as her warmth slid over into my arms, easy and pneumatically soft.  She sat there and hummed to the radio as the highway signs flashed past us when those big brown eyes suddenly started gleaming where they had been sullen and dull at my lack of an answer.  . “Are we going to N’orleans, we are, you’re taking me to N’Orleans.” I grinned; she was positively bouncing after kissing me under my jaw. I loved her accent, not coming from anywhere near so far south as she.  My hand had found it’s way to her thigh, resting easy there with the pinky pushed lightly against her pretty, nearly hidden cunt. The compact mirror was back out and she was suddenly humming enthusiastically to the music. Yeah, baby was happy, there were men in any city and you have to know this about baby; she just gets electrified at a mob of cock.  I wondered how long that would last and drove the rest of the way in easy silence, enjoying her mood, it would last until she realized I was not going to let her get any strange peter, but she would get over it, I had other plans.  Traffic on a Saturday night into the city was okay, I only got to muttering once and was in a pretty good mood as I negotiated the strange streets and boulevards.  I liked this place, it had a mixture of old and new and that always made it stick n my mind.  She looked at me as we pulled into the parking lot of what appeared to be a rapidly filling dance club. I’d seen it on a trip into the city a few weeks back, took a look at it last week and decided it was perfect.  Full of people, dark in spots and the music was good; or had been, the band they hired was subject to change and should be, but hey, you take your chances. “The coat stays here.“ That soured her smile, but not for long, she was a good fifteen years younger than me and was already looking forward to dancing with the young bulls she could see lounging around outside or walking in and out of the big set of double doors that welcomed the guests.  “Hey-“  She’d nearly forgotten herself in her rush to get out, my girl loved to party, it was one f the things I liked to watch her do, she partied the way a young woman should, I had other pleasures but I loved to watch. She stopped as my fingers curled into her long and curly hair, stopping her with one stocking wrapped leg already out of the door. For dancing, she can get used to anything. For me, she will.  “You ain’t here to dance. I’m gonna take a piss and you get us a couple of beers, walk around, show off your stuff and pick us a nice table.”  She was clouding up hardly then, I laughed and yanked her head to mine, contorting her tightly sheathed body until her tits were bare without a single touch of my hands to them.  “We drove all this way and you’re not going to let me dance? Oh- goddamnit, you are just being mean to be ornery. Please let me dance just once or twice, please, I’ll pay for it, I’ll make it good for you baby, I promise.“ I thought about that, and the idea of her dancing on a crowded dance floor somehow lit up the darker side of my mind, yeah, I liked it, but she would pay for it, hell the bill was already in the mail, so to speak.  “Alright, but you have to get people to join us at our table. Your age, and open- and you will pay for it, don’t think I won’t remember what you owe me…slut.“ The word rolled out and I enjoyed the widening of her eyes as she heard it. Yes, it was going to be that kind of night. “I know you won’t-“ She nodded and spoke quietly, using a tone of voice that showed she knew something was coming.. Her nipples were perking as I let her get out.  My girl has the kind of figure that old men dream of, mature men always look at and young men are too fucking stupid to see. That was their loss, but dressed like I had her dressed, even the idiot boys, all hormone and muscle, cocks still growing and brain would come later, even they were looking and that made her straighten right up and strut. It must be unconscious, that tit straining advertising a woman does in front of men.  She said she was fat but Marilyn M. would have loved her figure, times change, men don’t.  Yeah, she’d pay, she always paid, and that is why she is mine. Baby liked that shit; so did I.  I left her with a possessive smack to her barely covered ass and headed for the gents restroom once we got inside the air conditioned building, leaving her to find one of several bars and a table.  Why do they call it that, the restroom? I have pissed in them, fucked in them, lost my lunch in places dedicated to the waste products of humans, but I had yet to rest in one. I could barely piss; I was already so hard that it was a pain just shoving the half hard cock back into my Levis. Thank god for button down jeans, zippers could be a tool of torture in a hasty moment and that was a lesson no man needed twice.  I set out, looking at the local flesh as I walked slowly through the large club, trying to find where she had come to light. There she was.  Her beer, mine and a double of good scotch in a tumbler sat in front of where we would sit, that received an approving nod from me before I bent over her head my hand on the back of the chair she’d taken. “Good girl” I whispered in her ear as I bent lower over where she was sitting on the edge of her chair, kissing her behind her ear.  She was bouncing up and down to the music and watching the bodies move in the dances they did nowadays with shiny eyes. It was Hip hop or whatever the hell they called it nowadays, the moves were really not that far from the stuff people were doing in the eighties I decided as I took my chair, a sip, and a handful of hair. That brought a smile and a look, she knows me, knows that a public setting is just another place for her to obey.  Dominance never stops.  “Oh please, can I dance to this one? Please, please, you said I could“ I nodded and let her go, smiling easy and sipping on the scotch. “Yeah, go dance, have fun.” She would, baby enjoyed life, all of it.  Does it sound lie she is a simpering little piece of fluff? She has been trained to be that way, to me, because she knows what will happen if she does not ask, worse if she does not obey. However, to set your mind on the right track, I have to tell you that I’ve seen her smack a grabby man so hard in the teeth that his dentist sent her flowers, just for getting fresh. In her world, there is flirting and there is fucking and there is only one man who can touch her anytime he wants, any place and anywhere.  Me.  I would enjoy it too, watching her move out there among the young bodies it seemed as though she had forgotten what she was wearing in the atmosphere of the club and that was very much according to plan.  Charged, yeah, that is a good word for it, she was charged as tight as a lightning bolt and I could see the males circle her. Women were gathering too and that raised my eyebrows, she was watching as well, I decided by the way she was moving with a small group of men and women around her own age that baby was getting horny.  She’s a slut and knows it, but she is a controlled slut, she knows that too. She tossed me a look as the music changed, not wanting to come; she was moving with a man and had stopped in place, looking at me where I held the tumbler of whiskey in idle fingers. Baby wanted to dance; I could see her eyes asking even though I would never have been able to hear her words, not over that. She wanted to dance for him- for me. I nodded and my eyes held hers as I pointed down with a finger, letting it make a swirling motion. Her eyes widened and she grinned, turning to meet the boy’s advance. Down, she knows what down means in every situation and the music made it easy for her to grind, every lift of her arms, each time she tossed that hair up high her tits were exposed. The man who was having trouble keeping his hands from her had obviously already progressed to fucking her in his mind and I laughed hard as she licked his jaw line, pressing against him as though she were ready for that too before she slid down to kiss the front of is jeans. Little fucking tease, right, she’d done as told but she’d also loved it.  He looked a little non-plussed as she led him back to our table, obviously trying to fit me into the little picture he had made and failing. “I’m Jeff, nice to meet you”  He yelled this at me in a friendly way and it looked like he meant it, why not there were a lot of women the place and the night was young. “I’m me, nice to met you too.“ I yelled back and offered him a seat as baby went off to find more. I snagged the attention of a cocktail waitress dressed just like my pet but weighing fifteen pounds less and ordered another scotch, boy Jeff wanted a brandy and something sticky and she left as baby hit the dance floor with a brunette and what appeared to be her date. Jeff was looking at her hungrily, hell, I could see why, she may not be a fashion model but once she got up close to you, baby made you know she was a woman, there was a direct link between her eyes and the place in your brain that said “Fuckslut…”  Hell, I enjoyed watching him watch her as a few others joined what was shaping up to be a party on the dance floor. I laughed unheard as a skinny red head dropped to her knees and pressed her head into my girl’s crotch. No one even noticed, in this day and age that was called tame but I expected her to come back with baby. I was right. Soon we had a table for six and seven bodies wanting the seats. The cocktail waitress was busy getting drinks all around as chairs were slid and things got pushed together. Two couples, us one of them, two men and the redhead got comfortable and prepared to settle into some serious drinking.  I snagged baby where she stood next to me, my fingers MUCH harder than they needed to be as she was thumped down hard into my lap…  Yeah, I’d had it planned, the buttons of my jeans were undone when I sat down there, it was so dark inhere that no one would notice that. They did not notice that or the bruising squeeze of her tit as she got comfortable.  Everyone was busy with their own settling in and never saw he look of absolute horror that hit babies face as my hand pushed he upper part of her back forward until her legs spread to each side of my knee. I could feel her gasp under my palm as her hands took hold of me there, each palm on a knee and her ass high in front of my flat belly where I half lounged in my chair.  I had to laugh then, leaning forward to whispering her ear, nipping her on the neck with hard teeth.  “Time to pay baby, you acted like a slut-“  Jeff was looking as she turned her head to mine, kissing my lips with the barest of nods. I swear her fingers felt like they would draw blood through the denim as I pulled her back hard onto the head of my cock where it was busting into that soft round ass, hidden and secret in this tumultuous place. She colored and shuddered- her eyes closed then she turned her face toward the pretty guy, Jeff, nodding to my words in agreement. “Now be one.“ A sip of whiskey taken and I held he tumbler to my side as though I were listening to the conversation, relaxing.  My legs were spread for balance as I pulled her back and down onto my cock where it slid slowly in between her soft cheeks as she choked out a protest, the darkness muting her crimson shame. “Baby, they can see! It’s illegal to fuck in bars. I won’t do that”  I nodded as my arm tightened around her waist. “Yes you will, oh yes- you will” I was holding my drink in the long, strong fingers of my right hand, aware of the chattering that goes on as people meet other people and very aware that the redhead and Boy Jeff were staring at baby’s thighs.  It was not like there was anything hiding her, nothing save the darkness that disappeared regularly with the swaying lights that clubs like these had swiveling around all the time.  It looked as though they were both concentrating very hard on that juncture where her thighs became hot slutcunt- who wouldn’t.  “Lean forward baby, get your drink.“ I pushed her forward with the flat of my palm in between the shoulder blades, I’d eased the fingers in under the tiny tee shirt, just a reinforcement, flesh on flesh- my flesh on hers. She moved.  Hell, you have to smile at that, I could have scooted up and down, wiggled around to get my cock to her rectum, that was where that purply, dry thickness was going. But I wanted an open secret. As she leaned and lifted the beer she’d chosen from the water ringed table that all bars seemed to have, I pulled her back savagely.  Would it rip? I was not sure; I did know it would make her gasp and her eyes fly open. No amount of training of the anus can make a girl take a dry cock head nonchalantly.  Not when it is pushed in with the force of her own weight, the push of a hard arm below her tits, a belt of bone about her ribs…  That was lesson number two, control.  Lesson number one was the one you have to teach every day. Daddy gets what the wants, in the end, always.  I could not hear her gasp but I saw her eyes fly open wide then burn shut, I felt her tremble and cupped a heavy tit while taking a sip of my scotch. It would be empty soon and I’d have to order another.  “Hey, do you need another drink?“ It was the waitress; she barely glanced at baby, busy as hell as the musicians took a break and CD sounds started. A lot of people were wanting to ease their thirst and piss, she did not have a lot of time to notice the way baby was blushing in the dark. My fingers had a nipple and it was growing happily under the turning, twisting touches I enjoy giving her.  I knew; I could feel her.  Can you imagine that, the feeling of her driving every concern down and out of her mind because YOU want her to; the idea of a pretty girl becoming some base bitch toy to make you smile?  I don’t have to, imagine it that is, I have baby.  “Yes, do the table please,“ I waved the nearly empty scotch glass around as a very animal beat from the late nineties started. One of the few songs I liked from baby’s generation and it made me hit the right mood.  The redhead was entranced and I smiled in the dark, did she know that my cock had just now been swallowed whole by baby’s asshole. Could she feel my girl’s nails press hard into the flesh below my knees as she tried to hide all of that? I had to whisper- I had to pull her back from that forward lean she had and settle her against my chest, not wanting to blow it all by shouting.  “Grind bitch“ Just that and baby turned her brown haired head at me, she knows that tone of voice, she knows it means that easy time is over.  I wanted to cum, there at the table.  I would.  What can I say, the music was cool and my girl did. Indeed, begin a wicked little ass grind that moved my cock in and out of her bowels in a minimalist way that would drive me-  Absolutely crazy  Soon.  I do crazy, but I do it controlled. How the hell can you control anyone else if you cannot control yourself?  Boy Jeff had gone so far as to turn his chair and I could see he had some idea what was happening. Poor bastard, maybe he would find his own little cunt, maybe baby and I had just created a new Dominant to make the girls all fluttery.  The idea titillated and I leaned forward…  That had to hurt and I just had to take the time to make sure baby’s tits were completely bare of her tee shirt.  She was talking to the redhead, who had scooted a little closer. Of course she had, it was loud, dance clubs were, goes with the territory.  A couple of pretty bitches were between boy Jeff and I, when they finally moved I took the time to study his face. Yeah, my left hand was completely covering baby’s cunt, I had one finger sheathed warmly in the folds of that softness without actually entering her, the grind baby was doing to the song pushed her clit into my palm regularly and I could feel her warm up, get sweaty.  I thought then, that I would let her cum. I would enjoy that, a nice soundless scream as she blew her soul into my dark roll.  “You like her? She is cute. Maybe you can get her to come visit you sometime, maybe I will let you lick her asshole and cunt until she screams, baby.”  There is a lot to be said about loud music, until it stops. The buzz of conversation did not hinder the words lick, asshole or cunt from easing into the suddenly quiet air.  I almost laughed and I am sure baby died, if she had blushed before she was on fire now. In daylight, her tits would have been flushed red, it was not daylight, and only the closest had an idea of what was going on.  I relied on the usual politeness of people to keep anyone from making a scene. That and the craggy face that too many fights had given me.  It worked, but another pair of eyes, one of the other men, a ruggedly handsome blonde haired type that seemed friendly enough as he had sat down was openly trying to decide what he was seeing.  Not seeing.  She was a girl sitting on her lover’s lap- all perfectly innocent and about to drive me mad with her heat. I had to say it, there was no choice, and choices had stopped when I entered her belly.  “I want you to cum baby”  This was growled roughly toward where her head was lolling back on my shoulder, pretty legs up on her tip toes as she rocked herself back and forth, forth and back- just a pretty bitch enjoying the music.  Yes.  How do I tell you of the rush of semen that floods a man’s balls? It feels like lava screaming down some pipeline in your gut and the gasp baby made when she heard she would be allowed, forced, to cum before these absolute strangers made me turn my head to her neck, kissing her in a kiss that would have been bloody were we at home.  We were not at home, which was the purpose of it all.  A lesson.  Red was definitely interested, pressing baby for a telephone number and that presented such a lovely future that I had to growl and catch her eye, she gave me a hard look then turned her face toward my hand, the one that held baby’s pussy as my own. That caused another look at my face that ended as she turned pretty green eyes down to the floor quickly.  Sweet, very sweet.  “You better hurry bitch, I want you to cum before I do” The drinks arrived and money that I had left on the table was taken, the woman was honest and I nodded as she held up a five spot. “Tip?” She yelled/asked over the low roar. “Yeah, go ahead and thanks.“ I am a cold bastard, not an asshole or greedy. The woman was busting her ass off to keep people happy. Hey, a man like me has to reward that.  Baby had definitely lost rythym with the music, she was working for it now, the muscles in her legs swelling and easing in time to her own song.  I had to breathe.  A man can come explosively, he can come easy, and it all depends on the mind and how that has been tickled.  This one was shaping up to be hard and normally I'd have something in my hand to grip and twist brutally when I come.  A lesson for me as well.  Jeff was shaking his head but not looking away as baby gasped out loud and you had to realize something-  We always give the benefit of the doubt, maybe she had hiccupped, a beer explosion in her belly. But they were all taking little looks now, none could see what baby had felt, my fingers gripping the tiny button of her clit and squeezing like it was a thing provided to be made- thin.  Bloodless.  Baby did and I felt her begin.  What she was doing would have been obvious in a restaurant, but in a dark club, where sweat scent mixed with a thousand perfumes and darkness hid those things humans did not like to show when hunting fuck meat. It was a guessing game.  Baby wasn't guessing, she was dancing and goddamn. I had no choice. She robbed me of choice and my hand curled into the hair that she kept long and curly for me, my strength ripping her head back and around until I could shove my whiskey flavored tongue into her mouth.  It was necessary, she screamed into my mouth as I held her tight.  Baby was cumming.  Explosively.  Then I was as well, so hard that I nearly dropped the pretence and shoved her to her knees-  Control.  Her hole was slippery with whatever lubrication the rectum provides to a large cock, now it was sloppy with my cum and her cunt was sopping wet over my fingers. I didn't let go, no way, cruel maybe, but hey- I never said I was a saint, don’t want to be a saint. I wanted her to feel my touch when she awoke tomorrow, feel it burn as she made coffee to awaken me from my satiated sleep. 
 But all things wind down, soon enough, she was breathing hard but slowing and I was softening in her body, that would soon make a mess of my jeans but I had planned for that.  “We have to go baby. Been nice meeting y’all“ I pushed her up slowly from my lap and let her movement cover the rapid hiding of my cock into my jeans. Fuck it, we may never be back here, there was cum on my crotch and even that had a purpose. A plan. “Can I-“ she asked and looked toward the redheaded girl, her eyes pregnant with lust. Baby likes a bit of woman flesh, I like to let her, sometimes, if she's willing to pay for it. Baby ALWAYS pays her debts, always. “Sure, make it quick.” She nodded at that and slid onto the chair I had stood up from as Red slid hers up close.  Cell phones were out and I finished my drink as thumbs pounded on little rubber covered and conveniently backlit numbers. They would meet next week and baby was looking embarrassed and flushed again. That sounded wicked.  Time would tell.  “Come on baby, we have a long drive.” Two drinks in the time we’d been there, I’d be okay. We could not leave soon anyway. Baby had one more thing to do. She and red shared one of those hugs that women do when they hit it off spontaneously and we beat a retreat.  The car was a bubble of welcome silence as the doors slammed.  “OH MY GOD”  Baby’s eyes were bright and she practically flew into my arms and chest once we were in that anonymity.  The night had come and there was no one outside of the club yet save a few bulls that had drank too much too fast.  .  “Oh daddy, I came so fucking hard. Thank you baby-“  I laughed, baby was so sexy when she was feeling cared for and I let her kiss at my neck and jaw for a while before pushing her head to my cum sticky groin. “I’m hungry and don’t feel like going into a restaurant looking like I messed myself. Get busy.” She smiled that wicked smile that always tells me she’d been hoping then took the pressure of my hand on her neck as a signal, leaning down eagerly in the big bench seat of the old Polara and letting her tongue-  Clean me of her mess.  Sitting there and quiet as I enjoyed the little sounds she made, I stared out of the window at the lonely men hanging out front of the club and smiled. It was power, what the fuck else could it be, power and the kisses of my cunt in my lap.  Hungry. 
   
 They complete me. 
   
 I had a real feeling baby would have to go out again in her- Tiny Tee Shirt. 
   
 
 
 
 ...Thirty seconds... 
 He came into the kitchen and the screen door banged shut behind his shoulders. She stood at the sink, washing breakfast dishes as a hot breeze pushed little yellow fringe curtains into the room through windows of ancient wood slammed up high. Those windows were held up in the various frames with a wooden spoon here, a book there but they were held, thankfully, up. 
 It was hot in the kitchen. 
 The sound of a lawnmower buzzed distantly about them as his hand drops onto her shoulder and she’s turned...around. . Away from the housework that needs doing and toward his body. As a bee flirts with the idea that an embroidered flower might have pollen sweet- her eyes move to where he is jacking a nearly hard cock out of faded Levis. 
 They widen, those eyes... 
 The sounds of kids playing in full summer tilt drifts by their silence as she moves her eyes to his face and he stares at her as pretty teeth worry- at a lower lip. 
 Anyone could come banging through the screen door... 
 Anyone- 
 The thought is shared, it seems, but he smiles where she shudders at what he wants - fucking sadisticcontrollingperverted BASTARD! His eyes are neutral, the face sweat-sheened and impassive but she can feel the waiting edge of command, the desire of demand; it is written all over that face as his hand remains- an ever present push on her slim shoulder- toward gravity, toward his sweat and musk scented cock, toward that filthy place that he makes her go to on the slightest whim. 
 His whim. 
  She trembles and wonders what will happen if she says no, wonders if it was that cunt from across the alley that had him stirred up, what was she, just a valve to conveniently drain his overloaded balls? 
 A fly unseen replaced the bee, unheeded; her mind was following a different buzz as she slowly falls- to slut knees, opening as he slams rubbery cock flesh into her mouth, he’s not gentle, going for her throat and getting there too, and she would cry- 
 As bitches sometimes do.... 
 
 
 
 Uncollared 
 "Fuck you!“ she screamed and threw a cup at him, maybe, he amended silently as the heavy thing sailed wide of its supposed mark, crashing into the wall some feet behind the back of his chair. Maybe it was at him, maybe she had meant to miss. She was livid, and he lifted an eyebrow laughing silently behind fingers that stroked the moustache above his lip at her anger. She’d asked for it, she’d known there would be things that made her angry or shamed happening to her. It was part of the way they lived. 
 “I told you-“ He’d told her, yes, but the woman in his vision turned livid at his reminder, her fingers began pulling frantically at the thin black band of leather that circled her neck. “Take it off! Have I been fucking crazy, who the hell wears a motherfuckin’ dog collar in the twenty-first century-“ She was panting and wild, twisting the tight bit of restraint back and forth as she stared at him with burning eyes. He almost expected her to spit venom, she was so worked up, but he had to go silent at her words. She had never said that before, it was enough to stop him laughing. 
 Showdown time. 
 “You wear a collar, you agreed to it, don’t you remember?“ He kept his voice calm, trying to throttle back both anger and that startled feeling in his gut at the same time while getting control of the situation. “You begged for it, as I recall“ She screamed and the leather was tugged at even more vehemently, her efforts were making a mess of the soft skin of her neck as vile epithets that he'd never expected to hear from her mouth, certainly not directed at him, rang loudly through the room. He had to get up and out of the chair. He needed to try to get her to calm down. “I was insane you sonofabitch, GET THIS THING OFF OF ME SO I CAN LEAVE!” 
 “You can’t leave without clothes on anyway, people would stare, and it’s not locked.“ He stopped a few feet away from her and spoke quietly, feeling anything but calm inside. This was his mistake, she'd been coming along so fast that he'd rushed things and then insisted. Stupid, stupid man, he was so shocked at the sudden turn of events that anger seemed to flee, to run out of his limbs like water through open pipes, leaving him drained and cold inside. 
 Where it counted. 
 “Alright-“ He said, mainly to stop her tearing at the hated collar in a search for the small clasp. “Alright, hold still, Let me get it open. His voice reflected what he was feeling inside, it was dead and flat, emotionless, there was something unreal about the removal and he watched it in slow motion, seeing the strap fall free of her neck, slipping across the bare skin of her shoulder as her pretty hair bounced. Then she had turned on a heel and walked to the bedroom, making immediate use of her newfound freedom. 
 He sat down and tried to not think about what had just happened, that was impossible, though. He could see her putting on her street clothes through he doorway to the bedroom and wondered that only a short time before they had been discussing a move into the same home. The light snapped off in there, she was done dressing and there was suddenly a low sort of half darkness as she left the bedroom, crossing the living room to switch on the aquarium floods. She knew he liked to sit in that blue light and watch the shadows, sit quietly and think of the happenings of the day, any given day. Maybe his one time slave figured he needed that aqua bit of calm right now. “I’m sorry, it’s a thing I can’t get past.” She said and her face looked like she was near to crying. Her hands knotted the leather handle of her purse nonstop as she said that, he could see how hard it was for her but still- She went on, finishing what she had to say. “I’m sorry I cursed you, that was wrong, but you earned it!“ He nodded at her where she stood, what can you say to that. She also carried a small bag that she’d used to bring a few necessities and toiletries with her back in the beginning days, stuff a girl needed for the nights she slept here. With him, her master. It was slung over her shoulder and filled near to bursting, now, with what had become a steadily growing pile of her belongings over the months. He'd forgotten the bag and wondered briefly where she had had it stowed in the time between then and now. 
 “I’m sorry too, take care of yourself.“ That was cold, something told him that he should say more but he could feel it, he’d already started the process of erasing her from his psyche. She stared at him for a long moment, apparently waiting for something more from him, continuing on in a rush when nothing more came. “I won’t be back, I begged you not to-“ A pause then she just shook her head resolutely. “ I won’t be back, you take care too.“ The door opened, he could tell by the night-scented air that pushed across to his nose that she'd stepped out. Then he heard it close and knew, his girl had gone away. 
 Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck- Fuck! 
 There were cigarettes that some guest had forgotten after a night's conversation months ago, and he had brandy, it all helped as the long hours drug by, him smoking one cigarette after another, twirling the collar that he had re-clasped into a loop around one finger- Incessantly as he took easy and very careful sips of brandy. It would not do to get drunk.  She had withdrawn her consent, which was a very strange thing for him to have to consider. The thoughts that had gone through his head as she had made it clear that she no longer consented had been sobering. Once, she had been his to control, now, with one slip over the razor blade edge, she was not- it was that simple, that ugly. It was that brutal. It's always a question for a couple living the lifestyle, how far is too far and what the fuckis compatibility, really? He mused that the thing that had broken her resolve was not at all the thing he would have bet upon doing it. Not at all, he tasted the taste of humility and it was sheathed in the bitter coating of arrogance regretted. 
 On the other hand, maybe she had simply been too weak. It was a consideration; he looked at it and discarded it. He had demanded a very, very difficult thing of her. No, the fault was his, were it hers, she would have stayed, tried to do better. He knew her. She’d always been his good girl. 
 His slave. 
 Time tick-tocked away and he'd dozed off in the chair sometime in the night only to be startled into wakefulness by the phone ringing beside his ear. The sun was starting to lighten the windows and he felt like death warmed over, muscles that didn't appreciate such treatment were groaning as he stretched to get the noisy thing before it pissed off the Gods- “Hello-“ He said. “I couldn’t sleep“ her voice was tired and raspy, it sounded like she'd been awake all night and crying. The man bit back an anger filled retort, breathing deeply and trying to clear his head of the fogs of sleep and booze. 
 “Could you sleep“ She asked as he rubbed his face, feeling stubble and tired eyes then sitting up straight in the chair. “Fuck what time- Yeah, I dozed off in the chair. Not much, no-“ He could hear her tsk tsk on the other end of the connection and then she dressed him down mildly. “That’s stupid, you know what that will do to your neck.” She was right and he groaned feeling the cramped muscles fully once she'd suggested it, the pain waking him miserably. 
 “Master, I’m sorry. Please, can I come by so we can talk? It just hurt so badly and I didn’t understand why and please, I love you. Please-“ She wasn't begging, her voice was slow and very matter of fact, fervent but she seemed very aware that he could say no. She was not the simpering kind of slave, he didnlt like those, wouldn’t have one around. 
 He was wide-awake now, a decision had to be made. The way she had cussed him, that was hard, that he'd probably earned it only made it worse and then he lit a cigarette, letting her hang while he took several puffs of the foul tasting thing. He had to say it, he hated failure and there was only one way to fix what he'd screwed up. He had to be honest, he had to be fair and square with her. 
 “No, I moved too fast- I was stupid.“ He said it and was glad he had, it was true and right and if she were going to trust him, she would have to know he was honest in all things. “You’re not stupid- but sometimes you don’t listen!” she said and he found himself pushing down a burst of anger, glad when he felt it disappear, it needed to disappear. 
 The things his kink demanded of her required a lot of trust and right was right. They murmured plans to meet in an hour, both would take the day off and fuck work, this was like- like saving a marriage, some days you had to just talk and work through what had gone wrong. 
 If it was important. It had to be important; or there was no point. He was finding out how important she was to him. He made terrible coffee and watched the sun rise over his small plot of kingdom behind the house until he felt the door open. There was that breeze again. Her hands on his shoulder caused him to turn and he whispered. “Hello pet.” Before teary lips met his, cutting off his words as small fingers gripped him hard and the day began anew. Another day in the life... 
 
 
 
 The Diner 
 You couldn’t really say I’m the suspicious type, not really. Pushing open the door to the diner where my girl worked, a smile touched my face as she looked over and saw me come in. It was midmorning and the joint was pretty much empty. The morning rush was over and lunch was still an hour away. Back behind the counter, Bob, her boss, was refilling the salt and pepper shakers while Sandy, a young girl who’d decided finishing high school would just take too long was talking to a half seen cook. The slut was taking an order as I sat down and hurried, yeah, she definitely hurried to give the cook the little slip of gray paper and come over to my table. Bob was a fairly devout Christian but he knew the value of a short skirt, pretty legs were one of the unwritten rules he had for his waitresses and it did have the desired effect. Hell, it was how I’d wandered in, if the food is the same as the other places but the waitresses look sweet, where would you eat? 
   
 “Hi!” she didn't say the other word, master, I chuckled a little at the thought of good old Bob hearing that out of her lips and ran a slow finger up the inside of her thigh. She almost slapped at my hand then trembled, she needed this job, I knew it, she knew it, but there were limits. My finger stopped short of the hemline as I talked to her. “Did you do as you were told?” I had a menu open and looked back to it while I waited for her to answer. Bacon and eggs sounded really good, coffee and maybe even a big glass of milk. Her voice breathed out in a quiet rush as Bob stared out from behind the counter, just idly surveying his plastic and pleather kingdom. “I did- Of course I did, you know I wouldn’t disobey you!” She was intense was intense as I spoke up, loud enough to let Bob know he was earning money, I wasn’t just some bum trying to get out of the sun and maybe score some naïve flesh. Good old Bob… “I’ll have bacon and four eggs, over medium with wheat toast. Coffee- oh, and a large glass of milk, please.” She was writing it down and Bob turned away, his greedy little heart set at ease by the normality of it all. 
 “Prove it…” I whispered as she looked up from her order pad and my smile felt predatory. I could feel the swell in my chest that controlling her always gave me begin and time seemed to slow as her eyes went wide. “Now!” She squeaked, and I nodded, talking low and firm. “Before I leave, otherwise I’ll just have to take it on faith.” My fingers touched her knee under the old and battle scarred table; only that but it was enough, she nodded and turned, fled almost, going to get my breakfast set up. The coffee came first as I sat, silent all the while, just watching her. Unobtrusively intent on every move she made as I added sugar, cream, stirred it and sipped, our past slipped through my mind. I’d owned her for quite awhile now and she should really be used to my quirks and demands, but I guess you never stop learning. She was heading back with the milk and frowning, she knows I don’t like milk, about the only sort I’ll drink is buttermilk, she set it down and I picked it up immediately, calling out as she turned away- “Miss-“ She stopped dead and came back to the table, taking the glass I pressed into her hands. “I’m sorry, I wanted buttermilk; would you exchange it? I’ll pay for it; I just don’t like milk…” Bob was watching again and she grinned, there was that tiny spark in her eyes as she turned and before I could sip from my heavy coffee cup I heard a “Damn it!” and a crash. Milk was splattered all over my slut’s shoes and the floor. Bob tossed her a towel, he wasn’t a dickhead and glasses get broken. “Pick it up with that then get the mop; I don’t need anyone slipping on that.”  He wandered off toward the kitchen muttering something incomprehensible as everyone else forgot the waitress. She'd gotten down on her hands and knees to begin slowly sopping up the cold milk from the floor… pretty bare ass and cunt shining in the morning sunlight as her skirt hitched up high in- proof. 
 
 
 
 The last touch. 
 She was the last one in the little spot below the trees where she'd insisted on holding the goodbye ceremony.  Master would have been LIVID had she put his body in a Christian cemetery. He'd be cremated, but for the moment, he was still here. 
 Stepping up to the bier, the High Priestess and the Shaman stepping back to give her privacy, her fingers curled about the edge of the casket she'd ordered... for the viewing. "Oh Daddy, what will I do?" A tear fell onto his pale cheek and she groaned. Her heart, it was beyond hurt. 
 Bereft, alone. She cried, the tears running down her face, wetting the collar she'd worn these last thirty years. She had to go on, he'd taught her that, and after a hard cry- seemed it's all she'd been doing these last days, crying- she kissed him, arranged her leash in his hand- it would be cremated with him- the collar would be cremated with her. 
 She stood up and straightened her dress, turning to go to a tree. Touching it, he'd taught her that, that wisdom and solace could be had if you would just, listen to the trees, and she did. 
 "...I'll be waiting..." What was that, the warm wind had touched her cheek, curled in around her neck, pulled her hair and she'd heard him. She was sure of it, she's heard him speak to her. A smile spread on her face and her heart opened wide, he'd be waiting. 
 She walked away, finally, as the sun was setting, better now, turning to look at that tree, she whispered. "I'll be alright now Master. And I'll find you as soon as I get there." She would, and to seal it, she left one more thought on the wind. "I promise master. I promise." 
 A final day... In the life. 
 
 
 
 Poetry to the end. 
 
 Club Cunt 
 
 It falls to be, swift poetry, that touch of an eye hard and chill to a larger one of wondering brown, so filled...  With need and ache, desire and fear.  A throat swallows hard, danger is near.  The flick of a sense is all it takes as a pretty girl partakes..  Decidedly  Of the images, smells, toned voices low or loud and all that is sucked out from a...  Crowd  Inhaled in a breath as the door closes behind, uh oh girly-  It's show fucking time!  Nipples swell, thick clit thrums like hell and she sees-  That one, maybe two, men, those darker souls that play a different tune.  Men, like the others, two legs, two eyes, mouth and hair and bone-  But men who stand apart-  Alone.  They see her, too.  Cause for her painted smile to widen as her legs tremble fast, oh shit, time to walk right past-  Move fast-  She would, if she were really worried that they might see, take an interest idly, if she feared capture by those hard eyed attentions, yes, fast she'd go with a meek head held-  Eyes down.  And so- 
 Slut strut  Do an ass roll that would make J. Lo go-  "Oh!"  Bitch crawl it, yanno?  Wear that hungry, defiant look, it glows through the eyes, this is a bitch who needs polarized- Brought from on high to so fucking low, lower than hell she cannot go.  But there she'll be taken, willingly, that's agreed.  Taken with clenching, merciless speed.  Or forced in a slow and never ending rhyme- what will he do to her-  This time.  All inhaled in a breath, grasped in a blink right there at the door, a talent of value to a certain kind of whore. The End 
   
   
 Little Bitch Bruised I say as I look at where you kneel before a window sunny, stripes of shadow making your body a contrasting canvas.  The words touch your mind as my fingers caress your hair, pull it out and examine the strand singly, glowing and alone in the light of that sunny window.  "Do you like that, cunt?"  Asked even though it doesn't really matter, not now, not at this stage.  The fingers let loose that hair, gone from their conscious, of no more use to them, it is forgotten-  The lips are now the source of my fascination and that finger, it traces those curves of sensuality in a slow movement that seems to take a good part of forever before it ends.  I like to touch you softly, to let your flesh feel and thrill and wonder-  Will I do it now?  Maybe, maybe not yet, you kneel, and I stand and it must be clear to you what that means.  it would take precious time to get away if I decided to slap-  "You little bitch."  -you, And I did, tears spring brightly into existence on your face, they glow like opals in the sun- pretty.  I enjoy the slight sting of pain to my hand as well, the way my fingers have left a testament of their touch on your cheek.  I like even more the way you look at the floor between your thighs and then raise your head proudly-  Ready for more, waiting.  A proud little bitch. The End 
   
 
 Limits 
 
 “I don’t do that!  She said with a smile, a smile that faded as he looked away.  Disappointment in his eyes, kink jaded; ruined the rest of her night. Thwarted will deflated desire and he packed his cock out of sight. Quiet, he only nodded, silent, not a word of argument spoken, lonesome, he simply turned, joy and happiness broken.  Later, she laid there beside him, cold stranger in a cold, comfortless bed. Thoughts of memory and decision, cause and effect, gain and loss all whirling through her head  Time went by, it always does and he smiled again when his seed splashed happily over lips curved to a frown, she nodded, words not needed, and swallowed his cum straight down.  “Not here, not now, oh no, you can’t ask that of me”  she spoke with words aghast, breathed so tremulously.  Aquiver, afraid, wondering now as his hand insists behind her hair.  She broke to him once, twice and thrice, will she now go anywhere?  Demanding with never a word harsh uttered, his eyes on hers as muscles hold-  Simply hold, the final act must freely come, a soft “No” is muttered before a kiss to a cock grows bold  Mouth stopped, pleasantly mum.  “It’s the twenty first century, women don’t get spankings anymore.”  She said with a grin while looking into eyes that simply waited, what had she done this was not fun could it be, hell should she run.  Run, she could, those eyes they simply waited, he’d told her to bend over the bed.  Indecision and lord she loves him, a flush burns straight to her head.  Did she deserve it, he was always so fair, was it right to think that maybe-  He was right and he certainly would be upset if she denied him what  Was his anyway.  As the mattress creaked below her palms- “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again” she said.  She might, she might, and maybe he hopes she does. Maybe.  “I’m not a whore!”  She said as he smiled and gently pulled at her head, held her there cradled close her ass, his ass high and free-  Offered as a gift to a man like he.  Hold her as she shudders, choke her outraged screams with the gift of your fingers in her hair, about the throat that aches to pull more air as Another grunts and slaps, takes her, makes her for a while, a tool, a toy, a possession loaned.  Whisper to her, how much you smiled, trace your name in letters on her quivering spine, and let her come to hold your knee, later, listen as she tells of how she felt. Run your fingers through her curls, there is a reason the girl has knelt.  Leash her, and praise her assure her there will always be more and never forget-  Always remember.  Her limits. 
 
 
 
 Carmen's capture. 
 She didn't really like to party in this kind of place, the lights where they hung were two shades too bright and where they didn't reach was too dark.  
 However, the company you keep is half of the battle and Carmen watched in silence as her girlfriend ordered something with a name that evoked images of sugary sweet and sticky drunkenness that threatened to start her stomach turning.  “Do you want one?“ Melissa asked brightly, she just shook her at the question.  “Gods no, how can you drink that stuff?“ Carmen made a face then made her own order. “I’ll have a double brandy, please.  With a double espresso”  The last went off to the pretty waitress, a redhead in very short shorts and simple white blouse with a low neckline that was apparently some sort of uniform here. “Did you want ice in your brandy?“ She had a sweet face, Carmen would just bet her tip jar was filled by the end of the night; she had waited tables some during college and never failed to tip after that. It had been a hard job, one that had helped her tough it out and get a degree despite the long nights of studying or working as others partied.  This girl had the body and a personality that was easy to like. Nevertheless, the simple suggestion horrified her, she liked her drinks straight, a quirk in her personality. “No, thank you, neat for me please.”  That sent the waitress walking back toward a bar in one of the more lighted areas, Carmen watched her as she moved between the groups of men who were just starting their drinking, and the groups of women huddled around the tables who had not yet been pulled apart by the inevitable whispered advances of men leaning in and smiling.  The women were watching back just as avidly as the men were and that almost made Carmen laugh.  The laugh that eventually swelled from her throat was caused as she saw her girlfriend scouting the talent as openly as any of the others in the place did, her penciled eyebrow slid into a brow still smooth and somehow professional even as she chuckled openly.  “You told me it was a nice tavern with atmosphere Mel. It had flair you said!” Carmen snorted lightly at that. “The only atmosphere here is meat market!“ It was an old and amiable argument, one neither really lost or won. Melissa enjoyed moving from one whirlwind affair to the other, attracting the men and letting them go when done; the picking and choosing of them seemed almost a pleasant addiction in her case. She went after it like a junkie looking for a daily fix anyway.  And they did come, in droves, the men. Her girlfriend had the kind of figure that a lot of men liked, padded hourglass form, startling blue eyes and a ready wit.  Carmen's own gray eyes met the blue ones as they left two men that had just entered the joint.  She decided that was what she was sitting in, a joint. It was a dive and the fake indignation that slid across Melissa's blue eyes when Carmen told her she thought so only made her laugh again, the quiet chuckles merging over the table even as their drinks arrived.  “Thank you“ Paying the woman, Carmen made sure that she paid with a decent sized bill and that the pretty waitress kept the change, Carmen started a little ritual even as she lost the thread of what the smaller woman across from her was saying.  Prepare the palate with the espresso and then swirl the snifter of brandy slowly. At least this place had the decency to buy big balloon snifters, Carmen decided the owner or manager or someone must be a brandy drinker and smiled at the pungent smell before taking a small sip.  She never drank for the buzz, although she knew many who did, she liked the burn of the alcohol as it skinned the back of her throat, always waiting a long fiery moment before easing that with a sip of the stout coffee. Melissa was going on about some guy she had met and how she wasn't sure yet, he looked to be a promising fuck but was married and maybe she should wai  “Oh lord, look at that.“ The stop of banal non-conversation and the reverent way that Melissa let that slide out grabbed Carmen's attention. Melissa was staring at a group of three men who were taking their first steps into the place. And that was no wonder, over half of the other women and many of the men in the bar were looking as well.  They didn't fit in here for one thing.  Especially the one walking along at the back of the small group, he seemed to be very alone despite the presence of the other two.  The first two were very good looking, Carmen knew the type, tanned and self confident like many she had studied with at the Ivy League college she'd attended. Suave and casual, they were talking and checking out the competition in that easy way that men who looked like that had.  Young lawyers or doctors maybe and you could almost hear the spines straighten and cloth stretch as breasts were shoved out just a little further across the badly lit bar.  They had captured Melissa's attention as well, but the man behind them, he took Carmen's look and shot it back in a kind of smoky stare that took her breath away.  A reflective look that was as much challenge as scrutiny, as though he were studying her  That was a very uncomfortable feeling and Carmen eventually looked away, seeking the darkness of her espresso when the discomfort grew too heavy.  He didn't fit in here either.  No way, the man had a nose that had been broken at some point, close trimmed dark hair that was kept neat and he was dressed in expensive clothing. Black slacks and a deep purple jacket offset by decent bits of gold at each ear that seemed to be the only jewelry on him.  The man was elegant somehow, no; he didn't fit in here at all.  He was scary in a way that the toughs lined up against the bars and leaning in dark corners just weren't, the carriage was slow and calm, as though nothing could make him lose control.  This man felt cold, like a black flame and he was looking right at her face.  She couldn't explain it but found herself crossing her legs under the table and sipping on the demitasse that still steamed as he walked past. Hiding a smile even as they decided to take the table next to where she and Melissa sat. Melissa was reacting just as those tanned faces knew she would, how could you turn a chair gracefully to see the object of your interest and not telegraph your desire? A frustrating dilemma and her girlfriend solved it by ignoring it.  Carmen didn't even try, reminding herself that she was a grown woman and a professional, she sat easily sipping at her brandy and trying to make small talk with Melissa even as she sparred with one of the tanned faces.  God, she hated places like this one, hated the swirl of anonymous sexual energy that only got thicker as people got drunker.  It wasn't as though she were looking for a man, Melissa would cajole and push every weekend until she left the comfort of her apartment and came out to watch other people trying to get fucked.  That was maybe a bit crude, she had a thing against crude, liking to carry herself with what she felt was an easy dignity without false arrogance, but it was how she felt about it.  False modesty was a thing she didn't indulge in either. She certainly would not end up on her back under just any Joe Blow from a downtown bar.  She had spent eight years fending off the attacks of the horny and the marriage minded in her quest to become a psychologist. Not that she had always been successful or wanted to, there had been Gary and she loved to remember him, a creative and thorough lover who had loved the coast of California more than her. Then there was Shawn.  He had been too soft for her personality. Left calling her a moody bitch and stuck up, not true at all, even if she did like having a say in things. She was no pushover and felt a lot of pride in that.  He was looking at her, that dark man. She noticed he drank from a heavy tumbler that seemed somehow small in his hands. He had pretty hands, long fingers without adornment. Certainly no wedding ring and why the fuck was she looking? She had come to get out of the house, nothing else!  He caught her study of him, the hard, lightly lined face that seemed somehow appropriate to the elegant clothing he had on bloomed into a sudden smile that left her cheeks hot. He nodded and raised the square tumbler. Jesus, those eyes-  “C’mon Melissa, I need to get rid of some coffee.“ Her girlfriend was just leaning forward to answer a question put to her by tanned face number one and Carmen had to be firm.  “Now!”  That brought about the scraping of chairs and a fast apology from Melissa as Carmen hurried back to the darker area of the bar, passing tables loaded with drinks and finger food, the music going off as a local band began tuning guitars and beating on a drum preparatory to beginning the nights entertainment.  Carmen took a deep breath as the door closed behind them and Melissa went immediately to the large mirror that hung on the simple white and pink tiles of the restroom walls.  At least they kept the restroom clean. “Girl what's gotten into you?" Melissa was checking her face with a practiced and critical eye, it seemed she had found her target for the night.  “Carmen, don't let me drink too much, okay? I don't want to get drunk in front of Thomas” Carmen asked in surprise. “Thomas, you already know his name?" She quipped with a smile. "When did that ever stop you? “  However, her thoughts were not on Melissa's request as she lifted the little skirt she wished she hadn't worn, sitting onto the cold seat and letting the flow begin. She always dressed the way she felt, but the look in that guys eyes, that smile, it had all served to make her suddenly self-conscious, and that was a thing new to her.  Maybe it was the stockings that she had chosen to wear tonight; her lovers had often told her that her legs were second only to her eyes in sex appeal. Be that as it may, the sheer black hosiery with the stark line that went straight up the back of her legs was a cause for concern. Did she look cheap?  “Are my lines straight Mel?“ She asked after flushing and coming out of the stall. Turning, she felt the tiny hands plucking and pulling at her stockings as only a friend would be allowed to do, then turned back to face her as a quiet “They are now.“ answered her question. Carmen warned her girlfriend. “Don’t invite them to our table Mel, I mean it.“ She frowned and turned to the mirror to make her own inspection even as Melissa's face flashed into stubbornness. “Are you nuts? Did you see Thomas, I could lay him down and eat him up raw and you want me to-“ She clucked her tongue as the door was opened.  Carmen had refreshed her face and her own sense of propriety; she was ready to go back out into the melee and only paused to make sure Melissa was ready as well.  “Alright, alright, I get the message, but don't expect me to be anything but what I am.”  Melissa nodded and they swayed across the room, skirting the dance floor even as the band struck up a rendition of some popular country song that she couldn't put a name too.  Carmen stopped dead, there was a fresh brandy where she sat and she took her seat with the slightest tremor in her stomach. A frown creasing the smooth forehead even as she realized she was being silly, she was an attractive woman, she knew this, what the fuck was wrong with her.  “Somebody likes you, lucky girl“ The pretty waitress was bending over the table, showing ample, smooth fleshed cleavage to anyone who might care to look and grinning as she changed out the ashtray that Mel had already filled.  “That's from the quiet one. The one in the black and purple.” „ Him?“ Carmen nodded her head toward the man in question, grinning even though she felt an impulse to send the drink back. That would be rude and she had no reason to be rude. She had only a strange feeling in her stomach that came and went like some crazy tide whenever she thought about the situation.  Melissa was already back in the battle, trading pleasant flirting insults with the one who had to be Thomas as the other Tanned Face scanned the room for meat in a way that screamed his surety that he would take someone to bed tonight. “I'm Mary, and if you want a little advice, be careful of the quiet ones.“ Leaning closer, talking loudly to make it over the band that was more enthusiastic than good, Mary went on with her warning. “He never even looked“ It was obvious what she meant and must be a thing that the woman rarely ran into, a man who didn't look at her curves. “He just asked what you were drinking, ordered it and then stared at your chair. How come the ones who look that good have to be so spooky huh?”  There was a flash of sympathy between the two and Carmen knew, instinctively sudden, that she could become friends with this woman.  Waitress or not, she was easy on the mood. “Lady, you just said a mouthful. I'm not looking, not at all, so I'll be okay. Thanks anyway, a girl can always use a good tip. With all the girls staring at that table, he'll forget about me soon enough”. “Maybe-“ Mary said over a call for more booze and a shout as someone a few tables over opened a bottle of tequila. Then the pretty woman with the slim ankles was gone, cutting off her voiced doubts and slipping on a professional smile.  She bet Mary walked a good thirty miles on a busy night, probably part of the reason she kept that figure so trim. The music changed to one of her evergreen favorites and the second brandy followed the first slowly as time went by.  It was still in her corner, quiet as Melissa gave all of her attentions to the skirmish she was engaged in and the second tanned one had moved to a table full of women. Taking his place as though that was normal and right, she felt a little disgusted as the women there started preening, taking another sip to shield herself from some of the actions of her gender that she found distasteful. Knowing it was the way of things, deciding again, for the thousandth time to never let a man get that kind of hold on her!  She was not a psychologist for nothing.  Lost in the simple pleasure of a little buzz and no talk, Carmen almost jumped out of her skin, barely avoiding slopping brandy onto her skirt as a hand came down onto the back of her chair.  A voice was demanding her attention in a deep, slow sort of way that gave the impression nothing could ever make it hurry or be less than calm.  Nothing.  Turning, dreading seeing whom it was leaning over her head, Carmen's gray eyes met the deepest, darkest eyes she had seen in a long time and she smiled brightly. At least she tried to smile brightly and that made her ego begin a slow angry burn in the pit of her stomach.  “Hello, would you care to dance?”  The man's fingers were already taking hers and she found herself saying no, she didn't care to even as her legs pushed her up and out of the chair. This was so untypical of her that Melissa actually stopped talking as the man slid her onto the shabby little dance floor, his arms easing around her middle even as he persuaded her to come closer than she would have on her own.  He smelled good and his eyes smiled into hers, never leaving her face, making her feel as though she were the only woman in the room. The butterflies increased their bouncing flight in her stomach even as she tried to concentrate on her steps.  He was talking, leaning in to put his face close to her scented brown hair, that voice filling her mind even as his hand pressed into the small of her back. Sliding her through and around the other couples as though they were not there, ghosts in the dream.  “My name is Jason and you are the sexiest woman I have seen in a very long time.”  She knew it was a come on line, even as her mind screamed at her in traitorous reasoning. No voice that sounded like that could lie about something like this, which was what her brain was saying anyway. She didn't trust it, not at all.  “Thank you, I think.”  The music came to an end as music tends to do and a moment of hushed peace fell over the bar as Carmen and Jason- Jason, she liked the sound of his name and she liked the gentlemanly way he took her forearm as they walked back to the table. The man had an air about him that divorced him from his surroundings and she really liked that.  Carmen was furious with herself for liking anything at all.  The hairs on the back of her neck felt as though they were standing at rigid attention as she went through a very fast internal argument, she also suddenly felt that yes, her skirt was definitely too short and wanted to sit down fast behind the shield of her table.  The music was replaced by the hushed babble of people suddenly realizing that they are talking too loud and the look on Mel's face, now that she ”REALLY” hated.  She was psychologist enough to see a smug certitude in her girlfriends eyes that screamed ”The ice lady is gonna get fuuuuucked!”  Moreover, that was exactly how she would put it too; Mel was a natural minx and reveled in it, there was little that could curb her tongue or her appetites. Maybe that was why they were friends. The dissonance kept them close somehow. A lighter touch at the small of her back gave guidance as the man pulled out Carmen's chair and a strong arm helped her settle into it. “Thank you-“  She looked up, feeling suddenly like some sort of anachronistic female from her mother's day, perched on a chair like a nightingale on a stick, trying to please a man, catching herself starting to curve her spine to thrust her breasts against the simple white cotton of her blouse.  That made her cheeks flush almost as much as the thought of her lack of manners. She certainly should have given him her name when she received his. He had been courteous in every way. What was wrong with her and damn it felt hot in here. Maybe the poor ventilation couldn't keep up with the mass of bodies that migrated around the bar in a weird sort of “Brownian movement.“  “Carmen, My name is Carmen”  She wanted to take her brandy, she wanted to turn around, let him go back to his table without another word, and that would wipe the smug look from Melissa's face by damn.  But he did the goddamndest thing.  Jason stood tall and craggy faced in front of her, looking at her with that poker face that she couldn't seem to see behind for the longest time, simply that, and it unnerved her completely.  Then he reached out slowly and brushed her cheek with his fingers.  They smelled-  Clean, they smelled clean and Carmen panicked a little as she fought an urge to roll her head to the side and nuzzle her face into his warm palm.  What the HELL-  “Thank you for the dance Carmen, you're an excellent partner and I enjoyed it very much.“ His fingers slid past the very front of her hair, a smile flashing onto his face that made her eyes narrow as he pulled a lone strand of hair away from her face.  The damndest thing.  “And by the way, your skirt isn't too short, I think it looks very good on you.”  With that, he laughed oddly and turned, walking back to his table, stalking actually, the man moved like an athlete despite the beginning lines of maturity in his face.  Just that, walked away as though he had ceased to think about her and it seemed like the bar somehow went dingier than it had been for a few minutes. As though some brilliant light had been shuttered before her eyes, leaving everything a bit grayer than it had been. Right now dingy seemed okay though. Dingy wasn't scary and Jason was scary as hell on a level she'd never felt before.  “Go after himmmm!“ Melissa hissed this at Carmen as she leaned around the table, her head shaking at what she must consider complete stupidity in her best friend. “Jesus Carmen, are you BLIND girl?“ That woke her up and she turned away from the sight of him sitting into his own chair, more than just a bit pissed off as she picked up the brandy and went far past any simple sip. Mel bore the brunt of her frustration, even though she would never call it that to herself.  “Stop it Mel, damn it! There's nothing to go after!“ She sounded angry and that seemed wrong even to her own ears as Mel just shook her head.“ I’m going to invite them to join us.”  “Oh No you don't, if you want to sit with Thomas then go over there!“ Her voice sounded bitchy and she took a deep breath and tried to calm her emotions, easing her tone of voice toward what was the actually the best friend she had in the whole world.  “I need a few minutes Mel, give me time to think will you.“ That seemed to make sense to her girlfriend and she stood up, playing it off, smoothing her slacks before she slipped into an empty chair beside Thomas. The brandy eased the fluttering in her belly and she took herself to task sternly. She was going home alone and would never see the guy- Jason again. That would end it.  Mary ran by on one of her interminable rounds throughout the place, the crooked set of her blouse and the look on her face made it more than clear that a group of six or so men at a table across the room were making her earn her tips.  Groping, pinching, and smacking as only drunks do, they seemed to believe all women loved that treatment and it got worse with drink.  Carmen remembered the shit well, and could sympathize with the waitress, guessing her ass would be stinging by the end of the night, sore and bruised from drunken male hands trying to slap it.  She had the kind of filled shorts that seemed to attract that kind of thing. And some women did like to be appreciated that way, if you could call it that.  Carmen was reminded briefly of one of the girls she had worked with, Darlene, you could hardly pull her away from a table full of rough men. It takes all kinds she guessed, arcing a thin eyebrow at the memory.  Oh shit, one of them was coming this way and he was obviously weaving, that was all she needed now.  The man was big, all of them at that table looked like they belonged to a construction crew or something, and he’d been looking this way the whole time she was ordering another coffee from Mary. A mug of the brewed stuff this time, she didn't like too much espresso, it tended to give her a queasy stomach.  If she had thought about it, she had supposed at the back of her mind that he'd been watching Mary, but no, he was here, leaning over her table, placing big knuckled hands on the wooden tabletop and the back of her chair, caging her in on one side as a stench of alcohol wafted into her face. Fuck!  “Would you care to dance?” the man asked, he was obviously drunk and Carmen answered in a way that was meant to send him right back where he came from. “No thank you I would not and please take your arm from the back of my chair” Icy, she moved away and wrinkled her nose while putting a hand on the man’s chest and shoving back. She had shoved hard and still he didn't move. His eyes went small and hard and Carmen suddenly got scared, not seeing any kind of bouncer in this place.  She knew she had taken the wrong tack immediately, the smell of whiskey and cigarettes rolled out of his mouth as his voice turned mean.  “Snooty little bitch huh? Too good for the likes of me I bet.“ He was getting steamed fast, it was the alcohol and Carmen tried to ease the situation, speaking rationally. “No, I don’t think that, I really just don’t want to dance-“ She tried to calm him but he yelled at her, enraged for what seemed no reason, you can't reason with a drunken man, not when his pride was hurt in front of his buddies.  “ Shut the fuck up, bitch, I'm talking!”  He was yelling and Carmen was recoiling back into her chair, realizing there was no way out of his encirclement unless she slid under his thick arms, going to the floor below the table.  Getting below an attacker did not seem to be a very good idea, the man’s face had gone purple and his palm slapped the tabletop a ringing blow that sounded louder as the band finished its last set, no way was she gonna go where he could pin her to the ground. Instead, she sat frozen in her chair, shuddering violently suddenly.  She blanched at the slap and could not see anything but his wide t-shirted chest and the face contorted in rage even as his hand shot down to her legs, jamming in under the tiny skirt that she would never, ever, ever wear again even as he leaned close, trying to force her legs apart.  ” I hate bitches like you, dressing like some street slut and then act like you're too good to talk to anyone. I oughtta“ She didn't know what he thought he ought to do because he was suddenly gone. Jason had joined Thomas and tanned face number two in standing up.  Jason going further, apparently he had come up from behind when he noticed the commotion.  Yanking the other man back and away from her even as his fingers had curled around the soft lace of her panties, Carmen's stomach felt so sick with a gripping fear that she wanted to throw up, but the scene before her was too captivating.  Heads turned everywhere as the two faced off.  Thomas and the other seemed bent on making sure none of the others from this fellow's table decide to join in, staring hard eyed at the other group, a sense of waiting readiness about them as Jason had just released the larger man.  Carmen almost died as she saw the ripped lace fall from the thick fingers and realized that she was now effectively bare down there. Irrationally she suddenly felt cold air flit over her pussy lips and cringed.  She was inexplicably wet, soaked through and through when she should have been dry in outrage. What the-  The insane thought went through her mind that at least it was quality lace, and she realized she was shaking terribly, all the signs of shock going through her body.  Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit like this just didn't happen to her.  “Hardly the way to attract a lady, friend.“ Jason was big, the other guy was massive and still, the smaller man took the time to brush a bit of imaginary lint from the other's t-shirted shoulder, he was daring him. “You're drunk and the bar is full of bitches, look at her, she got your point.”  Carmen stared incredulous as the man looked at her, Jason looked at her and Mel was looking at her and goddamn it, wasn't there anything else in this fucking place to look at! The change in language from Jason shocked her as well, but she relied on his instinct. She felt terribly helpless, what else could she do?  Her mind screamed and she was sure she gaped as Jason wrapped a comradely arm around the man's shoulder, said something apparently crude and turned the guy away, laughing, his fingers expressive as they gesticulated in a calm way.  Walking him back to his table even as Thomas sat down and Mel stood up, coming around the table to look after her girlfriend.  She stood beside Carmen, a worried look replacing the flirtatious face.  “Did he slap you?“ The very thought made her take in a deep shuddering breath as a deeper voice chimed in. “He didn't slap her”.  Jason was back and those pretty smelling fingers were under her chin, lifting her face to the light as he stood beside her again. Inspecting her so calmly that she would have giggled if he’d said ” Don’t worry, I’m a doctor“ He didn't say that, rather, the dark voice was coolly contemplative and darkly silken when it rolled across her ears.  Men should not have voices like that; it was unfair, simply unfair.  "No bruises, sorry I wasn't quicker-  Carmen…”  His eyes moved to the scrap of lace panty where it lay wadded up on the carpeted floor, thankfully forgotten by everyone but he and she, before moving back to her face, searching her features strangely in a very disturbing way.  He didn't even smile.  “Care if I join you?”  His right eyebrow slid up in emphasis of the question, it was funny how she never though about it, but that was exactly one of the gestures she would have expected him to use. It looked right on his face as he slid a chair out from under the table.  And what could a girl say to that?  The man was an able conversationalist and she found herself somehow engaged in a wonderful philosophic walk across many subjects, they were oblivious to the bar party around them.  Aside from a free cup of coffee, the manager, owner, or whoever she was only seemed concerned that she didn't need a cop. Cops were apparently very bad for her profit margin. Carmen found herself engaged and delightfully sparring with the man, he never once took the conversation sexual despite the growing four-armed beast across the table from them that Thomas and Mel were mutating into as the drinks flowed. He could make a point with his eyes; she found that out and at some point in the evening, Carmen decided she was attracted to those smoky-dark globes. They seemed lit from within by the light of secrets, bits of himself that he kept close, held in a place deeper than he ever intentionally let anyone get to.  Hidden bits that could only fascinate a psychologist, the very hiding of them being a challenge, a mystery that she, the woman, wanted to solve.  There was one point where the talk had turned to politics and the future, Jason had sat up suddenly from his lounging position, startling her as his hand started to slap down hard onto the table for emphasis as passion filled his face and she watched the man control himself, visibly control his emotion. She watched carefully as that face moved through realization into reflection before settling on an icy calm that, while stilling the anger, did nothing to water down the passion behind his convictions.  And it had all happened in the space of one heartbeat. That moment, the one where his face had almost snarled, she had become acutely aware of the missing shield her panties had offered, aware of his dark eyes boring into hers as though he would imprint his concepts directly onto her mind.  Carmen had started shuddering then and barely noticed the traitorous thrill as his hand came down onto hers later. “I've had all of this place I can handle I think, why don't you let me buy you a late steak dinner? Rare steak beaten into submission by a cook who cares, surrounded by golden brown potatoes served with coffee that was walked down from the mountains on the hips of happy farmers then treated like gold by a slow roast master.”  He was grinning, playing with words and she smiled, nodding yes, as he squeezed her fingers a bit harder than she would have liked.  Mel's shirt was definitely disarrayed and Thomas held a bleary eyed, lipstick smeared conversation with Jason as Carmen made her excuses.  The people here and there around the bar looked tired as she made her to way to the restroom, Melissa had jumped up and was walking unsteadily beside her, making no effort to straighten anything, strutting in a sort of casual drunken stroll for the benefit of the women still sitting alone this late in the night.  She was catty that way sometimes, a complete professional at work but let a man into the picture, and other women to prove how hot she was as well and Mel could become quite the slut. Arrogant with her easy sexuality in a way that used to bother Carmen, she had become used to it though.  “I'll call you in the morning, but not before two, I wonder if a man will answer the phone?“ Mel said as she grinned and stuck out her tongue at Carmen's image in the mirror before heading for a stall to unload all the fluid she had downed in her quest for inebriation. Half listening to the rustle of clothing, Carmen checked her own spare make-up, chuckling lightly and speaking absently to the closed door behind her back.  “I bet you're still comatose at two in the afternoon Mel.“ She laughed aloud, feeling good, better than she had expected on walking into this place, she felt almost like humming and had to check herself with a frown. Dinner, just a very late dinner, there would be no more. She put a mental foot down and set her resolve straight on that score.  “If you're awake, I bet you're still in bed. We know your appetites.“ Carmen saw the stall door open and Melissa appeared behind her in the mirror, straightening this and fixing that as the sound of a flush filled the little room.  “You don't know the half of it girl, the man has a cock that almost scares ME!”  However, she was grinning as she said it and Carmen was forced to laugh at the obvious lust for life her girlfriend was projecting. She was in her element, the ever taut nipples proved that. “Right, I bet you're scared Mel. C’mon-“  A last look, lipstick on straight and her eyebrows touched up, she needed to pee but didn't want the quiet man outside to wait too long.  “You've told me about all of your adventures my dear friend. I hardly think you're scared.“ They both laughed as women do at a shared joke and stepped out of the restroom. And that was strange in itself, the thought of him waiting, perhaps impatiently, made her content herself with the thought that any really good restaurant was no more than twenty minutes away by taxi, and that let her open the door and step out into the bar despite having to pee.  She could hold it that long.  The band was packing up and one of the waitresses was feeding coins into a gaudy jukebox to keep the place from going too quiet.  They were met halfway by Jason already dressed to go and holding her coat, Carmen smiled a goodbye to Mary, knowing she would come back to see her again. She was that way if she liked someone. Mary smiled back and got a strange look on her face as she saw just whom it was helping Carmen into the light black silk jacket that she had worn to set off the simple blouse.  It was spring, but it still chill at eleven at night. The jacket felt good and she shrugged into it gratefully.  Damn she felt shameless where the chill air caressed the soft bareness of her carefully shaven mons as she walked, kicking the long nylon encased legs easily before her along the street as they looked for a taxi.  It was cold indeed and she shivered, hoping they would find one soon. He must have noticed. “Are you cold Carmen? The restaurant I'm thinking of is kind of far away and-“  He stopped as a taxi cruised past, a shrill whistle from Jason's pursed lips evidently piercing the rolled up windows. And that made the question of her comfort moot; the cab would be heated.  He held the door for her of course, handing her into the yellow taxi as though it were an old fashioned horse carriage and she had that strangest feeling again, as though she had fallen back in time somehow.  Jason only smiled, muttered an address she vaguely knew to the driver and sat back in the seat beside her.  “Does it bother you if my arm is around your shoulder Carmen? It seems your girlfriend likes Thomas. He was quite taken with her if I'm any judge“ She nodded, his arm was indeed around her shoulders and the index finger of his left hand was twisting itself into her hair in a way that distracted her completely.  “Melissa is easy for men to like” and they both smiled at that.  Fuck, his finger had just pulled her hair in the sharpest pain, she winced and the little pressure immediately let up.  It was nothing, but he didn't apologize.  He was watching her face intently in the darkness, bars of light from the passing cars darkening and lightening the man's hard features in a bizarre alternating pattern that she found disturbing.  Somehow spooky.  “What do you do, Jason? You haven't told me that yet.“ Forgetting the hair, she laughed and let her own femaleness came out, shifting on her seat to face him and leaning into the crook of his arm. That felt better than she had expected and she listened quietly as he told her of being a management trouble-shooter for one of the area's largest firms. Explaining that he'd been sent here three months ago for a one year period to bring up production, she let him talk, lulled by his voice and the movement of the car. Carmen sighed, many of her best customers, well, her most frequent patients anyway, worked for that company.  She hoped, in an abstract sort of way, that he wasn't here to rationalize jobs away, but the thought disappeared into the nebulous winds of the unimportant as they pulled up to a restaurant with an honest to goodness door attendant. The place reeked of wealth and society, she knew the area of town and knew that she could never afford the rent on a practice here. Not yet, if ever, it was upscale as hell and that he would bring her here raised her eyebrows a bit.  Jason was out and paying the cab driver as the uniformed fellow helped her out of the car. Hmm, he’d been here almost a whole year, the thought made her smile even as the cold air rushed in through the open door, over her legs and under her skirt.  She was very careful to keep her legs closed as she slid across the seat and out of the cab, but blushed furiously as she caught the attendant looking hard at her after she stood up.  Had he seen, damn it, she would die if he had! She was handed off to Jason and the fellow smirked. There was no other word for it. That was a goddamn smirk, she knew it!  Carmen resisted an urge to be politely clumsy and bring the tip of her medium spike heel down on the fellow's corns.  Asshole.  The doors were old, leftovers from another time, made of solid oak she guessed and inset with vintage beveled glass panes through which a chandelier was shining from where it hung in the foyer.  She could afford this, but it wasn't the sort of place a single woman would ever go to for a meal- and certainly not without an escort, it was that kind of place.  The Maitre D` met them and apparently knew Jason, leading them back to a table for two. Placed next to elegant French windows, the view of the night time river that bisected the city was startling and made her smile even as she continued to blush. The simple white tablecloth held long candles set into elegant silver holders that were lit by an attentive server even as her jacket was taken, her chair pulled out and her bottom seated into it as it was firmly moved toward the table.  “Jason-“ She almost hissed across the table, trying to keep her voice down. “I'm not dressed for a place like this-” She felt cheap in this place; almost hissing as his face went stubborn and a hand flashed between them, silencing her. Her dress was for a night out in the kind of place Melissa liked, not this place.  But Jason was sitting down, his hand coming up as he just shook his head, ignoring her protestations as he spoke with the waiter in black and white.  The man finally nodded at the instructions and shuffled off busily, this left those enigmatic eyes on her. He stared at her for the longest time, almost making Carmen feel like some butterfly trapped below a magnifying lens until he moved his attentions to the wine.  If he had carried himself well in the bar, he seemed thoroughly at home here. Not pompous but comfortable in a sovereign sort of way that she found herself studying clinically when he finally talked.  “You must have dressed for comfort when you left your house tonight Carmen, I don’t see anything that has changed except setting and company.“ He must have noticed the women about them as she walked through; how could he not?  Her short skirt drew as many eyes as her obvious lack of jewelry.  “You are easily the sexiest woman in here at the moment. You can be certain that they are all fuming over the fact that their men are ogling your admittedly lovely legs, so why don’t you sit back, laugh-”  He grinned a grin that seemed playfully devilish and too damned self-assured.  “Do you revel in their discomfort?“ Believe me, they would if the tables were turned”  And wasn’t that an insight to the man that left her speechless as he laughed quietly. 
   
 The wine arrived, was opened with a subdued flair that impressed her and he approved of it before it was poured. The whole thing had an air of ritual that she found fascinating even as they sipped.  
 Soon the steaks arrived, exactly as promised and Carmen moved into a state of mellow comfort that was broken as her bladder spoke up suddenly, compressed by the pleasantly full stomach. “I need to go to the restroom Jason, forgive me?”  That had come out a question and Carmen never even questioned that. If she did, she might find herself hoping to be asked for a phone number and that didn't fit her self-image at all.  A quick question to a cute young waiter led her to doors that could have guarded the restroom of the Queen of England.  Carmen hurried in and soon she was sitting down, skirt raised up over her full hips and looking to lock the door to the stall, as was her habit.  She dropped the fruitless search as it became apparent that the mechanism had been removed, replaced by a simple latch of expensive brass and porcelain that had taken the place of any sort of lock. She sniggered a bit, too many high-strung society bitches locking themselves in once too often, most likely.  She smirked, definitely feeling superior to those pampered pets, she was a professional woman and those vacuous minded creatures out there were the playthings of men; the last of a fading society that she didn't place herself in at all. Nor would she, of that she was certain.  The door to the restroom opened as she finished, feeling much better now that the pressure was lessened, she idly followed the anonymous footsteps as they walked across the room on an errand of their own.  Reaching for the toilet paper, Carmen stopped and was about to politely tell whoever was opening her stall door that it was full, please take another when her mouth was covered and her voice stilled. 
 The hard fingers that clamped over her mouth shocked her senseless as Jason pushed the door shut behind him, shaking his head in a slow negative gesture as she tried to force words past his fingers. He stood there staring at her, his eyes moving to the nexus of her thighs and then back to her face as she tried to move past the shock that had filled her like icy water washing over the spine on a hot day.  Then something seemed to be decided, he was bending toward her face and she tried to scream even as his other hand came into sight. Crushed between those pretty fingers was the scrap of lace panty that she'd last seen lying on the floor of the bar.  “I thought you might need this Carmen.“ Cold his voice was cold and his grip on her face was terribly hard as he held her there. “You looked so cold without it baby”  Baby?  Baby? 
   
 Holy shit what the fuck was this? 
   
 Her mind started to lose it's hold on the tattered edges of reality at the familiarity that was so contradictory from this man’s mouth  She began to struggle in earnest even as he forced his legs between hers before she could think to clamp them closed.  Then he touched her there, no preamble, there was none of the gentle foreplay of her previous lovers. His hand was working its way between her thighs and she tried to skitter up onto the back of the toilet as the tip of his finger touched what the lace should have held hidden. Not that it would've been any more effective than it had back in the bar.  He never even slowed down as she tried to kick him, being too close, fuck he was strong and then his finger invaded her tightness despite her best efforts.  Carmen tried to blush, she tried to scream, and she almost died as he laughed at her, bending slowly down to force a kiss onto her lips. “Stop, please” “I won’t Carmen, and you don’t want me too anyway.“ He was unflappable and she just knew she would be raped, tears stung her eyes as she fought him, how the fuck could you be raped in a public restroom her mind wanted to scream.  Didn’t anyone HEAR- fuck someone had to hear!  He was relentless, forcing his tongue into her mouth even as his fingers invaded her body. His hand had left her face and was now a cruel fist in her brown hair, holding her despite her efforts, Carmen’s neck was bent back painfully and her scalp was a blaze of pain as she began to panic.  “Please, stop Jason, I don’t want it like this!“ Then she couldn't say anything as his tongue won, filing her throat with him.  That brought on a hard shove to his chest and some very ineffectual slaps that only made a terribly slow laugh bubble up from around his lips.  She cried as he laughed, easing another finger into the traitorous pussy at her middle. 
 She was gushing wet and weeping bitterly at the shame of it all. They both froze like that as the outer door opened, his mouth holding her silent and his strength making her struggles small, quiet rustlings that wouldn't attract any attention no matter how she wormed and struggled. It probably sounded like a person with a bit of gastro-intestinal distress; most people wouldn't give the tiny sounds a second thought.  His lips left hers as the other person flushed washed their hands and left.  Standing up, Jason never once let go of her hair as he held her face. “You should never wear panties Carmen, I don’t like it, it's better this way, sexier.”  Did rapists talk to their victims?  His two fingers were joined by a third and she cried again, he was implacable, to big to be rid of and worse than that even.  His fingers were beginning to make her pussy warm and flow with a pleasure that should not be, could not be and her soul cringed at that.  “Noooo”  A quiet scream as he began pulling her face to his trouser covered groin by the hair stretched painfully between her scalp and his fist.  “No, please…BASTARD!”  His arm moved back and Carmen gasped, she was suddenly empty, the soft lips of a woman’s pussy do not clap together. They ease back closed softly when there is no more need for them to be open, like flower petals closing for the night.  But it felt as if they had clapped shut as a part of her rejected what he was doing, maybe it was her mind that had slammed closed so hard, denying what could not be run away from.  Of course, she rejected what was happening to her, of course she did. Her whole being resisted the invasion completely. And hope welled over her breasts and mind at that removal, frantic thoughts beating a crazy rhythm through her mind as she saw his fingers, a rhythm that forced her to walk the twilit penumbra between panic and shuddering relief.  They were slick, Jason’s fingers; all three of them were gleaming below the fluorescent lights, coated with fluids meant to ease the passage of a man’s member during lovemaking.  Maybe he'd had a bit too much to drink or perhaps he was simply too impulsive and was exercising that control she had seen before. Carmen’s mind had already moved to a rationalization of the last five minutes that would allow her to pull her skirt down, stand up and walk out of here with some semblance of dignity wrapped about her. A misunderstanding, that was what this was, a case of false signals and she cursed the short skirt again.  She would blush; she knew that, wondering if those bitches out there had known-  Had seen him go into the wrong door and not come back out, she wouldn't put it past them, maybe it was a game those bored leeches played.  But she would never look back. With that, her mind fell into a clinical analysis of his face that failed as she realized a few things.  His hand still held her long, thick hair cruelly, pressing her cheek to his trouser covered groin.  The man’s face was dead calm, those haunting eyes burning with an excitement that the face was not allowed to give expression to, and moreover, those sticky fingers were easing the zipper of those expensive slacks down.  Slowly.  He did everything with a slow deliberation and purpose that suddenly became very clear even as her hopes died. It was method, pure and simple method.  Ohmigod, he was going to-  “ Fuck you Jason! NO!no, no no, nonononoo, I won’t!” She gasped then half screamed.“ Jason!”  This last was accompanied by a frantic twisting and pulling of her head, Carmen’s small hands were shoving at his legs in an attempt to win distance, fuck she was too close to hit him in the ball sac, her own body blocking that option. Carmen closed her eyes and fought as hard as she could, her breath heaving and her knees banging against the stall walls.  A low thumping that made her angry as hell with herself.  Why the hell had she not thought of that before, maybe the last visitor would have thought she was having a heart attack and checked, maybe.  Her scalp felt as though it were about to come off, fresh tears coursing down her cheeks at the starbursts of pain that jolted through her whole body with each wild tug against his fist in her curls.  “Stop it Carmen!”  He slapped her. Not hard but it caused her to gasp. She hadn't been slapped since that time at the age of 14 when her mother had decided that Carmen’s mouth was a getting too foul.  And she did stop, the violence was no longer a threat, it had become a stomach sinking reality.  She stopped and realized the tears had plugged up her sinuses, conversely making her nose run in a miserable sensation that made her face feel twice as thick as normal. The pretty psychologist had the strangest thought just then, it struck her suddenly that mascara must be tracking down her cheeks and the image of her like that almost sent her off the precarious point of balance she had temporarily won.  Whirling on the edge of temporary insanity, almost, Carmen began to find out just how tough she was.  “Shhh, there is no need for that Carmen, all you need to do is what comes naturally.”  She was enraged; he was talking to her in the same tone of voice her father had used with his horses when they became rambunctious. He was talking to her like she was some high strung fucking filly that needed a bit of calming to realize she'd erred. To understand that she was being intractable, how dare he try that with her goddamnit.  “Let me go!” Cooking inside, she blanched as he worked his penis free, her eyes avoided his, she knew they were full of rage and at some level, she understood that he might slap her again.  Her jaw already hurt, the scalp was still aching and would be for a long time she knew.  Carmen despaired as it became clear to her that she didn't want to risk another slap. There had to be another way to get him to stop.  Her mind was babbling but all of that came to a sudden halt as he slowly made a fist around the hard length of his penis, stroking it lewdly, slowly running the fingers of his left hand up and down the shaft in front of her.  This shit turned him on and the understanding of that made her hopes die forever.  “NO! I mean it I’ll bite it off-“ He laughed, actually stunning her into silence by tapping the silky skinned glans against her nose before forcing her face even closer.  She refused to open her lips, locking her jaw as hard as she could and staring hotly at his face now.  “Will you bite it off, really?” It didn't seem to scare him at all, rather, the idea seemed to put an eager hunger into his voice, like a gambler laying a wager.  “Have you considered what's worse Carmen?”  A jagged sort of arrogance had woven throughout that resonating voice as he stood wide legged before her, shaking the longhaired head for emphasis as his fist clumsily painted the outline of her lips with the sticky-wet headed brush of that cock.  It felt like lip balm smearing over her lips and could only be pre-seminal fluid, a sign of his excited tension. That sent her stomach roiling again and she gulped at the saliva that filled her mouth in sick reaction, trying to keep from throwing up.  Ignore it! Ignore it! Ignore it! Ignore it! Ignore it!  She almost gagged, then, as his musky scent wafted up and out of the slacks, not that it was especially dirty or unclean but it was certainly sweaty male and she did not LIKE to suck cock. Carmen had only done it on a few occasions, and that only with the understanding that she was doing her lover a favor and don’t get used to it! Moreover, don’t even think about cumming in her mouth, which was nasty and a thing that other women, sluts, did.  She was babbling behind the walls of her skull and who could blame her.  It had been one of the things her last lover had held against her, that she could receive but not give. Carmen was like that in many things, according to him.  A selfish bitch he'd called her. She had shrugged and watched him go, nothing could make her become what she didn't see herself as being.  Nothing.  “A mouth full of blood or that pretty stomach holding a tiny drop of cum? Not even enough to fill a shot glass Carmen. How bad could that be?”  And if that didn't snap her mind back into focus, nothing could.  The image of blood in her mouth-  Cascading over her chin and onto her blouse, the very thought made her mind recoil into a corner, trying to escape any such decision.  Trying to deny the need to make such a decision, maybe she would have been successful at her search for a hiding place had he given her time to look properly.  But he was holding her nose closed and it became a true contest as she writhed in what felt more and more like a fight for survival.  It had to be his voice, the spookiest thing of this entire terrible act. It was as calm as though he were instructing a wayward pupil or explaining a marketing strategy to a bright but stubborn manager of whom he expected better.  She had to breathe and Jason pressed his advantage as her bruised lips gasped open, pressed it with a ferocity that made her throat burn and ache as her nose was banged hard into his hard pelvis, those coarse hairs abrading the skin lightly.  The reach for air is foiled as his cock closed that avenue of ingress, and he wasn't letting go of her nose, damn it let go her mind screamed, pleaded and begged, all of it to now avail. Carmen’s eyes flew wide open as true panic accompanied the too tight corset feeling that was beginning to burn in her chest.  Then he opened his fingers and life-giving oxygen filled her lungs as his laugh filled her ears.  Carmen was crying openly now, her head was being thrust back and forth and she found out how HARD it was to bite, cringing, dying inside as she realized how correct he'd been.  How impossible it was for her to bite that thing that tormented her so.  For whatever reason, she couldn't force herself to bite him.  Maybe it was the scary thought of only hurting him and the pain she KNEW he would inflict on her afterwards.  Maybe it was the way she was busy with trying to swallow, trying to cry, trying to push him away and furiously attempting to ignore the taste of him; all at once and all of them unsuccessful in varying degrees.  The smell of his aftershave was an incongruous distraction in her nose as he used her mouth, a distraction that actually did very little to distract as she held onto the hard swell of his ass in self-defense. Carmen’s scalp hurt less if she held her upper body up, even though that plaguing hand never once let go nor eased up.  Never once.  .  An irrational and burning shame filled her belly, heating her face despite an obvious inability to stop him. She hadn't caused this, but her cheeks burned as that wet length fucked in and out of her virgin throat.  Bastard! 
   “Better, that's much better Carmen, shhhhh-“ He was talking in a gentler voice now, and her scalp hurt much less, at some point her body had decided to relax, give in and let him do what he wanted.  Let this madness end then she could take steps.  Fear thrilled through her suddenly as her mind opened a dimension that she'd been steadfastly ignoring. Some girls didn't come home from dates in this terribly large and very cold city.  The thought made her body go so limp that Jason had to move to hold her up.  The pain in her head forced her to rise back up immediately, pressing herself into his groin even as she wanted to pull away, in an instant she had made a survival decision, keep the motherfucker happy and maybe she would make it to a police station.  Just get through this.  Fuck, her throat ached in it's distension, hurt and violated even as her jaw began to throb in complaint at the wide angle it was being forced to maintain.  ”If you could see how pretty you are right now pet-“  His voice made her tremble, tears hot on her cheeks as her mouth worked, trying to make the best of it, looking for some way to ease the terrible strain even as his fingers left her lips.  Just as she thought her throat couldn't take another micron of that hard length, his balls slid onto lips that had been bruised by the harder fingers just removed.  And that meant he had a hand free, his eyes were glinting down on her face as he crushed one of her breasts through the light cotton blouse.  “You wouldn't fight so hard if you could see yourself, you are truly beautiful like this Carmen. A pretty girl-“  His breathing had changed, become harder and more ragged and she knew he was going to cum in her throat, had been mentally trying to come to grips with it even as his fingers slid over her clit.  Gentler this time, he spread her lips and began a three fingered fucking of her pussy that set up a buzzing glow in the back of her head.  Warmth spread from there to her stomach, a bubble that worked against the roiling fear and degradation she was feeling. “A very pretty girl should be rewarded Carmen.”  He smiled; a slow wolf’s grin that she now knew was predatory, speaking a sentence that threw her over the edge.  “Cum with me pet-“  Cum with him, she lost it at those words, her back was curled on the toilet seat, her legs wide as her heels clicked on the tile floor in an attempt to ease the terrible ache the position made in her lower back and she was supposed to…  …Cum…  With him.  Just like that and then, Carmen did weep, silent bitter tears at her shame.  .  Because her body was screaming that it would gladly cum., traitor, traitor, and traitor!  Soon.  “Yessss”  He gripped her harder and the rhythm of his fingers matched that of his hips, the water tank came up against the back of her head as he pushed further forward, the tiny skirt a forgotten ribbon of black under a bare belly showing where the shirt had given up trying to stay tucked in.  Tucked into what was now purely ornamental, a useless scrap of cloth that hid nothing. Now his legs were to either side of her face, he was truly using her mouth and throat as though it were a pussy.  Oh god no, this could NOT be! NO!  Her head tried to shake form side to side in denial of what was happening between her stocking sheathed thighs, but his implacable grip denied her even that solace. Working at her, chivvying her flesh to get what he wanted.  Then he was cumming, a gushing thickness that made her gag spilled into her mouth as a great groan left his chest to pound into her mind.  A thick stickiness was threatening to flow up her nose even as he pulled his cock out of her mouth  She was cumming despite herself, her hips bumping and grinding as the rest of his terrible stickiness splashed her lips.  Slid down her chin to spot her blouse, as the weirdest vision of Monica Lewinski’s famous dress flashed into and out of her conscious mind in a crazy reach for something to hang onto.  Lord how they had laughed at the woman.  She was certainly not laughing now.  “Cum, swallow…  …Cum slut!”  He was slamming his knuckles into her pussy, the four fingers a steam driven piston that drove her into a sore frenzy, threatening to split her in two even as the wet sounds this made shamed her even further. She swore to herself that she would make this bastard eat the word slut, make him regret ever using it to her.  He could see her, all of her, there was nothing hidden from him now.  And that made her wail somewhere deep in her soul, her fingers gripping his as cheeks hard as her body became one stiff, writhing muscle.  “Motherfuckerrrrr”  He slapped her for that, and then held her until her shudders subsided.  Carmen couldn't breathe.  Never, never had she ever felt an orgasm like that, it had rocked her and the aftershocks were still swelling across her body in delicious tremors that she didn't want to see end.  She was furious and ashamed, trying to hit him in his coldly smug face as he pulled her to her unsteady feet.  This brought a hard shove of his hand to her breasts, slamming her casually back into the wall of the stall.  “Stop it, it's over now Carmen- Stop it!”  He pinned her there, shoving a hard knee between her legs and kissing her full on the lips with a weird tenderness that had been missing a moment ago.  “You did well beautiful, for a first date, come, fix your make up and-  Hey, what's this?”  Looking down at her blouse, she colored as they both noticed a large glob of pearlescent cum on her blouse, right over the nipple that was still taut with forbidden pleasure.  Traitorous body, traitorous soul.  The thick fluid had soaked through the light material, sticking a quarter-sized spot to the swell of her tit and Carmen cringed as he scooped it onto the tip of his finger, knowing instinctively what was coming next.  He never hesitated a moment before popping it into a mouth that had opened in indignation. Again wrapping his fist firmly into her hair to make sure she couldn't squirm away.  “First date are you cra-“ She got cut off by his matter of fact words. “I am a bit crazy, as far as a lot of people are concerned Carmen. Swallow that or I'll have to force you again pet.” He talked as though her swallowing of his filthy semen was a foregone conclusion and she raged as her throat obeyed.  Salt, the stuff was salty and somehow-  Carmen hurriedly dropped that line of investigation, not liking where it was leading, she would never have cum in her mouth again, and she need not decide what the foul stuff tasted like.  “Good, very good.” And then he smiled, turned her around, slapped her ass in a way that felt-  Goddamn it, it felt satiated.  Fucking male but he was pulling her skirt down, tucking her blouse back in before her own hands angrily shoved his away. “Am I allowed to straighten myself up Jason?” His right eyebrow rose high into his forehead and for a minute she regretted the biting sarcasm that had filled her words.  However, he just grinned, and then did the strangest thing. Jason slid a hand behind her neck and kissed her in the softest way anyone had ever kissed her.  Her stomach did a flip-flop then, her mind so confused by this that she barely remembered where she was.  “Allowed?”  The eyebrow slid Vulcan-like into his forehead in what she realized was a habitual expression of his. The man liked questions, was innately curious and attractive to her.  Why did he have to be a rapist?  “A very good choice of words pet. Yes, you are allowed, we need to go back out there. Are you still hungry.”  He had opened the stall door and was washing his hands. She followed, wanting to stomp out and get a cab but knowing she could never walk through that bitch crowded room unless she had checked for tell tale signs of what had gone on in here. “I should have you arrested Jason, that was rape“  He nodded, saying “You probably should Carmen, but you won’t”  They both turned as the door opened and a startled looking woman in pale green entered the restroom, stopping at the sight of him and her in the women’s restroom. The elegantly dressed woman started to smirk as she saw Carmen’s still mussed state, but dropped that expression as Jason barked in a voice that would do a drill sergeant proud.  “Stop! GET OUT!”  The woman actually seemed like she was going to wet herself at that, a range of emotions chased themselves across her face as she backed up faster than she'd come in.  Carmen was every bit as startled as she was though.  The words the woman tossed back toward the man who leaned casually against wide sink counter startled her more, though. “Yes Sir, of course-” The door closed but Carmen’s mouth dropped as she heard the last word uttered.  …Master…  Jason only nodded and waited for Carmen to make herself presentable, actually sliding a hand over her ass and letting it come to rest in the small of her back as he moved to take her out of this terrible place.  “Don’t embarrass me when we go out there. Everyone will be watching, so be sexy Carmen.”  For some reason, Carmen found herself walking taller and this made her rage internally again.  She was not a fucking plaything, damn it, who was this sonofabitch to make her act like this?  He grinned and kept on, talking quieter as they entered the dining room. “I wonder if Thomas will bring your girlfriend here. Now, she would fit in very well, we like her kind in the club.” She looked at him, trying hard not to look at the tables of people. Was it her or were they all staring. “Thomas is a member in very good standing here.”  They were! Every head in the room had turned to them and was staring avidly at her!  Every face, and she could have melted into the floor right then, the bruised lips burning, they felt as though a bee had sting them, swollen so no one could overlook them.  A handsome waiter came hurrying forward with a tray laden with two small glasses of bubbling champagne, speaking politely as he slid to a practiced stop before them.  “As you ordered Master Jason.” The man waited patiently as Jason took the glasses, heading back to his work as Carmen was forced to take the long glass he pressed into her hand. It was that or let it fall crashing to the floor. However, he was watching her and her cheek still hurt from the last slap, hell, it was probably glowing red now too, come to think about it.  “Did I tell you the name of our little club Carmen? Not everyone is invited to this place; you noticed there was no name outside. We like to keep it very exclusive.”  His grin widened and she felt as though she were about to faint.  Carmen’s eyes went wide as well, there was a very pretty girl walking across the next room, seen through an elegant doorway as she was being led by a man holding a leash that ran from his hand to her neck. A slim collar was there and a smile was on the woman’s face.  Carmen felt weak, she felt trapped as Jason clinked his glass against hers and somehow she managed a sip. A part of her mind noted that the champagne was expensive and very good, as she swallowed, at least it masked other tastes less pleasant.  “Acceptance into the club is only through examination Carmen, congratulations pet.” His voice went very dry and she let him guide her back to the table they'd shared, sitting in confounded disbelief. What century was this? He helped her into a chair, once again the very picture of gentility.  “You passed with flying colors Carmen.” He sat himself, sliding his own chair below him and placing both elbows on the table.  “The club doesn't advertise because we couldn’t think of a catchy name Carmen, but I am happy to welcome you to the Dog Kennel Club.”  His smile widened and she despaired under the penetrating touch of those dark eyes, he was playing with her and why was she still fucking SITTING here goddamn it.  “A club for Gentlemen”  And with that he laughed, he laughed in the darkest way and Carmen looked down at the hands she held tight in her lap.  She knew it now, she was lost, lost and the tears threatened to start all over as he raised his glass in a small toast. 
   
 The Next Morning. The ringing of the phone woke her and she opened her eyes to a blindingly gorgeous- Umm- Afternoon.  A bleary look at the clock preceded the sudden realization that her jaw hurt like hell.  Nevertheless, she rolled naked out of the thick down blankets she liked, padding over to look at the phone’s digital display that was blinking in angry counterpoint to the buzzing ring. It was Mel.  Fuck that she would call her back.  She probably wanted to boast about getting laid-  And that brought it all back didn’t it.  Carmen took a deep breath to steady herself and ran a hand over her face, her cheeks felt gritty. She’d cried herself to sleep after being ordered-  ORDERED! 
 To go home and go to bed. Escorted out of the building and placed into a taxi, sent home once her presence was no longer required. Jason had forced another kiss on her in the back seat before turning to accept a cigar from one of his cronies.  A smaller man, trim and dapper, had been watching as she left, eyeing her with that same predatory and supercilious look that most of the men had in that strange place as he stood on the low steps before the outer doorway.  She knew now why they kept a doorman, no one got in who wasn'tt known to the man.  She’d been shown just how strange the Dog Kennel Club was through the rest of the evening, the revelations had come in various forms, some subliminal, some very blatant, and Carmen still shuddered at what she had seen.  Then she shuddered even more as she realized some part of her had liked those things she had been made to observe. Like watching a strikingly handsome woman of middle years suddenly being dragged across the lap of the man she was with and spanked thoroughly, then made to apologize to the entire room for her lack of consideration in interrupting the pursuits of the men present. She had meant it too, crying and explaining that she had meant to hold her tongue.  Her-  Her master, glowering in true embarrassment behind her, forcefully explaining to a grinning neighbor that  “Discipline should not be allowed to wait Donald, it spoils the girl.” Before allowing her to sit down and finish her meal. The woman had stared at her plate the whole time and Carmen had the definite suspicion that even more awaited her later.  Not that she'd been sitting comfortably, not at all. Carmen had watched her through the evening before Jason moved them to a curtained back room for aperitifs, and the red flush of the woman’s cheeks had grown crimson every time she’d moved on the ornate chair.  The man had been thorough, the sounds alone had had women all across the room staring and flinching. The frenzied kicking of full legs had brought about smiles and hard stares from as many women as men.  A disgusting display that was what it was.  Decadent.  …Master…  And wasn’t that one hard word to force yourself to say anyway, the tongue balked and the mind laughed at it.  This was the year of Our Lord Two thousand and ought four!  Master!  Bastard!  She started to tremble again, the thought of what he had made her do in the restroom trembling in her mind, threatening to make her dinner come up.  Oh yeah, that had happened when she got home.  She had showered for what seemed an interminable time once her doors had locked the world away and stepped into the bathroom to do it again now.  Illogical  That was illogical but Carmen felt her hair go terribly heavy as the hot water fell on her head, felt it attack the chill her skin felt after the warm blankets, and knew she needed this.  Logic be damned.  Then she was crying again, leaning back against the warm toned tiles she liked and weeping almost uncontrollably.  BASTARD!  What had given him the right?  Had it been the skirt? She had a right to wear anything she wanted to goddamnit!  A sudden small laugh bubbled up between those sobs.  Minx Melissa’s Thomas was a “Member in good standing” at the Dog kennel club.  She understood the name better now after being forced to sit through the “Training” of a new servant in that back room.  The woman had been in her mid-twenties, plain faced and lush bodied. That face had glowed with a simple beauty as a male hand snapped a simple, thin collar suitable for small dogs around her neck.  Her demeanor had adopted a loveliness that the clinical side of Carmen had only seen through case photos of some nuns or ascetics who had given their life to something greater than themselves.  Yes, the woman had positively glowed with pleasure, bending her neck as the collar clicked shut, kissing the back of that hand once the clasp was firmly done up. How could any man induce that in a woman?  Understand it?  She soaped up and almost slapped herself as she noticed how hard her nipples were.  
 Of course, she understood it. It was rapture, like religious ecstasy and the woman had been beautiful in its grip, beautiful in her sacrifice. She couldn't understand how the man she'd been kneeling in front of had brought it about.  Deity had always been the focus of the few examples she’d ever casually studied.  But a man?  How did they get a woman to behave like that in this day and age? Her mind skittered away from that thought, not wanting to follow that at all. She had bit his cock off all night, her dreams had plagued her with the recriminating vision of blood flowing down the front of that white blouse as he fell back screaming and clutching the stump of what had been a cock.  And she had enjoyed it in her dream.  Fuck.  What the hell had happened to her there?  Where had he forced her to and-  “WHY THE HELL DID YOU STAY THERE FOR FOUR MORE HOURS?”  Carmen was screaming at her image in the mirror, having stepped out of the shower and grabbing a hairbrush to comb out the long curly mass that she would never cut.  She was screaming and beating the plastic bodied brush hard against the counter, so hard that it broke in her hand and that let her fall back to the wall and slide down until she was sitting on the cold floor with her knees against her forehead.  “I-“ Carmen sobbed a shaky lungful air into her lungs, past the aching throat and fuck it hurt to swallow now.  “I gotta quit crying, it’s in the past and it will never goddamn it happen again.  Why Me.  She could understand Melissa being singled out by such men, the woman brought things like this on herself with the way she acted around them.  Fuck, she had to eat, her stomach was cramping in hunger and the school-trained psychologist noted that this was a good sign.  It made this determination while studiously ignoring how close to the edge the other side of her mind was walking.  Pushing herself up, using the wall as an aid she made it to her feet and stopped dead at the poignant view the mirror shot at her.  Lips swollen, cheek bruised-  Fuck, someone had bruised her thighs as well, but which one had done that?  Jason or the guy in the bar?  The bruises ached and she noticed that every time those tender muscles twinged or complained her mind shot back to the pretty fingers that had put the bruises on them.  Jason. A man she would never see again. That resolution gave her the ability to set her lips in a stern line and comb her hair.  Looking at her naked body, she turned with new purpose and left the bathroom, slipping into a pair of light pants and a male shirt that she loved to wear when private, Carmen went to the little kitchen she had and began to make eggs solid and bacon crispy.  His fucking loss and she hoped he had enjoyed the only taste he would ever get of her. He should deem himself lucky that she didn't call the police.  Bastard!  Maybe if she said it enough she could quit saying it- eventually.  Carmen had finished and called Mel, the day, yeah right, the whole afternoon went quickly by during a long conversation that had just dripped with glowing descriptions being met on the electric telephone lines by non-committal grunts and uh-huh’s.  Thomas was a great lover, creative and talented in bed. Kind of demanding but she could deal with that; just have to teach him how things were supposed to be but maybe this was the ONE.  
 And that made Carmen’s eyes fly open, Melissa never ever sought one; she wanted all. In addition, she’d been invited her to a very exclusive dinner, Wednesday. Could she borrow that cameo she liked so much, please!  Yes, of course you can Mel.  Carmen agonized as they talked, finally deciding she was unable to tell anyone what she'd gone through.  No one, not fucking ever, her secret and she would work it out herself. With that in mind, she held her tongue about Thomas, the club and anything that happened last night. After getting through the conversation that had ended up being a real chore, Carmen lost herself in the Sunday work of reviewing the coming week’s patients.  As the sun began to go down, she called and ordered Chinese, then began thinking about a walk through the city park after eating, it would be chill and she liked the way the sun made a golden slit of light over the pretty lake that the city sported.  She felt restless and hugely sad, angry, somewhere at the back of her mind.  She knew many women went through some version of what she'd lived through.  Better organized in his brutality, Jason simply focused better on attaining his desires and was cold enough to get what he wanted.  Bastard. Nothing worse than a few drunken dates that had stopped acting brutish after a hard slap and a caustic comment, at worst, had come her fortunate way.  She would make it though, things would be all right and that realization brought a smile as the doorbell rang. That had to be her duck and she stood up from her desk where she'd just finished her work to go answer it. 
 She was tough and would make it past this; that thought gave her stride a new energy as she set off.  Yes, a walk would be just the thing.  It was not Liu, the delivery guy from her favorite Chinese restaurant standing there as she opened the door though, it was a college student in his early twenties, wearing a jeans jacket and carrying a huge bouquet of flowers in his hand, an air of hurried need to get to another customer hovering about him.  “Preis? Miss Prees?” The guy was trying to make sense of the name her Austrian grandfather had left her with and making hash of it instead. “Preis, yes, like ice” “Oh, sorry, then these are for you, please sign here“ Carmen took the proffered pen and signed for one bouquet of-  Flowers: Personally selected.  And one-  Box, gift: delivery of.  “Thank you!” Then he was gone and Carmen’s stomach was curling into a hard knot. He knew, he knew her name- the implications made her knees go wobbly.  He knew her address.  “Oh Mel-“  The flowers landed in the trash and she simply stared at the gift box.  It was small and very elegant and it sat there on the table in her living room like some coiled adder waiting to poison her if she moved too close.  The doorbell rang, that had to be Liu with her order, but she let it go unanswered, glad when the ringing stopped.  It was unimportant to her, food. The sun went down and the room became dark without her moving to turn on any kind of light. The planned walk had slid into impossibility as well.  He knew! 
 If she had to guess Carmen would say it had probably taken roughly two hours before her fingers picked up the pretty little box. Two hours of gathering the courage to see what was inside that pretty, predatory thing.  Four inches by four inches and definitely bought in the expensive part of town, but then, she couldn't see a man like Jason doing anything cheap. That wasn't his way at all.  It didn't even creak as she opened it, almost throwing it across the room as she saw what was contained inside.  Sitting on the deepest blue velvet she had ever seen was a simple collar; sized to fit a large a poodle or small spaniel but inset with a diamond that she knew was real. She also knew it would fit her neck perfectly.  The man was one to make sure of things like that.  He watched the details, always, she was certain.  A heavy card had fallen out as she opened it and she bent to pick it up.  Numb as fright and anxiety rolled over her mind like the ocean waves, unceasing.  “A pet deserves to be rewarded Carmen. This is for the future.  I will pick you up for dinner at eight O’clock on Wednesday.  Thomas will join us with a date.  Jason.”  Bastard  Not a hint of asking her out to dinner, he assumed she would meekly come.  Bastard, Bastard! Bastard!  Then she did throw the thing away from her hard enough to carry it across the long room, knocking a book from a shelf she had hung herself.  Carmen stumbled blindly away from that black leather thing, made it to her bed and fell into the blankets that had remained unmade all day, her hands alternating between wringing the pillow into her face and smacking the unfeeling softness in rage.  None of it lasted long; she was tired, so goddamned tired-  He KNEW!  Bastard.  Tears of despair and rage escorted her into a dark sleep of dreams. 
 Monday had been a blessed whirlwind of business and the myriad small problems that make Mondays so typically Mondays.  One receptionist was sick and her other had asked for three weeks off in the autumn to get married.  A problematic time, autumn always brought on incipient depression in sensitive people, the sharp fall from the sun and warmth of Summer bringing her a new caseload each year.  But what did you do? She maintained a good but distant relationship with her staff. Had hugged the younger girl and agreed to the unscheduled time off then began thinking on a suitable gift. Luckily, there was time to pick something appropriate.  In addition, Mel had called, chattering-  That made Carmen laugh at her sexual friend, she was chattering like a schoolgirl on her first “True love“ Carmen didn’t know her girlfriend any longer it seemed.  Tuesday was brutal, overshadowed by a low boiling anxiety that made her angry as hell when she took the time to really think about things.  Fuck that arrogant, smug, self-centered sonofabitch.  Well, another girlfriend had agreed to come spend the night with her, she had the ready pretext of boredom, they had both decided a night of girl talk, popcorn and old weepy movies would be just the thing.  That let her sleep the night through with almost no nightmares.  She would have a witness.  Wednesday morning woke her with a gorgeous sunrise that seemed like it had a reason to be gorgeous and the sleepy walk to the bathroom was pleasant. She was in a good mood.  Carmen felt back in control and enjoyed her leisurely breakfast, unconsciously dressing in power colors and swaggering a bit. Check and mate, motherfucker.  She had noticed a new tendency to curse, and it bothered her.  But, fuck it felt good to curse sometimes. It was a sign of the lack of resolution in her mind; she knew that, she was a psychologist. She would deal with it soon.  Doctor, heal thyself. Six patients today and the last one had just left her blue and oak “discussion” room when the phone rang.  Sharon, it was Sharon and Carmen panicked.  “I can’t make it Carmen, my sister is in labor and they don’t have anyone to watch my niece”  “Oh, sure I understand, maybe next week, Thanks anyway, Shar.”  Damn, damn, damn, damn and godDAMNit!  Her voice was calm and she really doubted if her girlfriend had noticed the sudden nervousness that she felt, they weren’t that close and hadn’t been for several years.  There were less than five hours before the man would be ringing her doorbell.  Somehow, she just knew he would be punctual.  Her fists came down hard on the heavy wooden desk she’d just had to have.  An antique of oak, it had taken a moving crew of four men two hours to work it into her office.  The thumps of her fists on the polished wood made almost no sound as she took her frustration out on the massive thing. Carmen looked up to see Nadine stopped in the doorway, staring at her.  She had been thinking about what she would wear tonight. That had sparked her anger, was it either or? If so, why, that made no sense! She would simply not open the door, end of story.  “Is everything okay Doctor? You look terribly pale-“  “I’m just not feeling well today, I’m going home missy, please archive these files for me.”  With that said Carmen was up, into her jacket and gone before the woman could do more than nod in the affirmative.  Everyone has bad days.  At home, she took a bath and wondered that Mel hadn’t called, she was probably lost in her preparations. The bath felt good and somewhere in that long heated soak, lying in the bathtub surrounded by bubbles in abundance and everything smelling like a floral spring breeze, Carmen got very angry.  She WOULD go damn it.  Just to spite him. To laugh in his face before those submissive bitches and walk out after slapping his earrings out, laughing all the way.  Of course, it never hurt to be careful.  Carmen programmed he Police emergency number into the tiny cell phone that she had, realizing for the first time that it would be good to use the damned thing more often, have it with her, it was slipped into the tiny purse she would carry along with ample money for a cab and dinner.  She would need to get home somehow and money made that a non-problem. Then she went to dress, a finger on her chin as she studied the clothing that a woman accumulates over the years.  Hmmm, they wanted to see something did they. Fine, she thought- if they wanted legs, let us just show them legs.  Carmen went all out, a bit of reverse psychology usually worked with men.  Let him think he had already won. It would only make her victory sweeter as the door to that place slammed behind her back.  A tiny skirt of strip of leather that some designer had decided was a skirt over thigh high stockings.  The stockings had been purchased a long time ago for a party and a certain male whom she had kinda sorta pursued. A man who liked the old-fashioned silk and hand-sewn line that ran up the back of the sheer things. He had loved the stockings, but was not interested in the woman who’d filled them then.  His loss she decided as she bent over the edge of the tub that held her foot, long fingers sliding sensuously from toe to thigh, smoothing and stretching the elastic stuff until it all sat perfectly.  She almost broke her neck trying to make sure the line was straight, but was satisfied in the end.  Simple golden earrings, her hair down and loose, an easy fall of brown curls that she knew looked good and she was nearly ready. The image of his face as she slapped him kept an elated grin on her face all through the penciling of her eyebrows. She selected a tube of very slutty-shiny lipstick that had been lying unused since Mel had forgotten it there one evening. Startled she realized that had been nearly a year ago, an evening in which the friends had been preparing to make the city unsafe. Easier times and she smeared the shiny stuff onto her lips with a vengeance.  Vengeance, yes that was a good tasting word, vengeance.  Carmen stopped as the image in the mirror looked back at her with burning eyes.  Damn, she looked-  Not sure, different somehow, her mind reeled a bit as she realized what she looked like.  She looked like one of the women she had always sniffed at, thinking them a- Damn, she made a passable slut. Then the doorbell rang and she was easing a hip-length maroon jacket over the sheer blouse. No bra, it wouldn’t fit the image she wanted and her nipples swung crazily against the silky-scratchy material, hardening despite her best intentions. No panties either, she knew his game now, certain he would grope her as soon as the car doors shut.  Shoes on and open the door, he hadn’t even come up and she concentrated on her revenge as he elevator slid smoothly down the shaft, feeling like a boxer walking to the roped ring.  “Get him girl”  There he was, carrying a single flower and standing next to the heavy door that led to the street, walking toward her as she moved toward the exit.  “You look lovely Carmen.” His eyes flashed to her neck and then took all of her in. Carmen laughed inside, had he really expected her to wear that vile thing?  “Thank you Jason, so do you.” “He handed her the flower which she smelled, admired and then purposely left laying on a chair that had been in the foyer since she moved into the high-rise.  Maybe someone would find it. He did look good, and was completely the gentleman as he helped her into the car. Will wonders never cease?  A big car this time, large and powerful, with an engine that could not be heard once the doors closed.” I think you’ll like this evening’s events Carmen, there’s an after dinner show.”  “What sort of show? I'm a bit picky.”  He laughed at that, turning up the music that had been a pleasant background to the words.  Good music, he hadn't kissed her nor tried to, not once.  Aside from holding her arm to steady her as she slipped onto the leather seats, he had ignored her and the first bits of doubt began to rill across the nerve endings in her stomach.  Maybe she didn't look as good as she thought. Maybe he had changed his mind.  That was good, if true, but she was still going to slap the motherfucker.  That stiffened her resolve again and before she knew it, he was parking the car in an underground garage near to where the club was located and they were walking easily along a moderately busy city street.  He had hooked her arm in his, the free hand coming down over her fingers in a gesture that was somehow tender and somehow very possessive.  She had to remind herself of the game SHE was playing as he stopped before the door attendant.  It was the same man, the one who had looked under her skirt last time and she almost bristled on seeing his face.  “Carmen, this is Joe, a man who never ever forgets a face, isn’t that right Joe?” The man nodded, smiling and speaking in an easy voice. “That’s right miss, I know each member and their accompaniment.“ Jason spoke again, filling him in. “Joe, this is Carmen.” That done, Jason seemed to lose interest; it felt as though he were anxious to get inside the building, maybe out of the public eye?  “I’ve been here since day one. Welcome to the club miss.” The man’s smile was not at all predatory and for single moment Carmen warmed to his easy way, before her anger slammed down hard on that feeling, letting her walk away without answering.  She wondered, was he a-?  A master as well?  Somehow, he didn’t seem to be and Carmen reserved judgment.  She almost goggled, it seemed as though she’d been accepted and that made her belly burn again, the knowing look in both of their eyes. Signed, sealed and never once-  Asked.  It also seemed very apparent that her date, Jason, was a very important member of this club, Carmen was not impressed. Money did not impress a woman who had her own and she could see that money was woven all through this “Club”.  A place for the jaded wealthy and that made her sniff. She was better than that.  The dinner was very pleasant; she had to admit that. The kitchen was better than most places she had eaten in, her meal had been chosen for her, a nine course menu that revolved around tender, grilled beef and deep sea fish with various drinks as accompanying satellites to the whole. It all served to put her into a very pleasant frame of mind.  And the bitches, oh lord they had looked, she laughed internally while holding her face in a reserved calm, a mask that she would keep no matter what happened tonight.  Carmen had had to positively strut as she walked through that crowded room, had needed to strut. Some smiled and many frowned upon seeing whose arm held hers and she enjoyed the parade this time.  Very much so, she wanted to make a point, crossing her shapely legs many times though the evening to make sure anyone and everyone could see her panty less state.  Gods, she would never have the courage to act this way again.  Carmen knew that, and found she loved acting the wanton for these poor bastards. That surprised hell out of her and she quickly hid it away before she could examine it closer.  At least she did examine such things eventually, these people, she shook her head in a silent conversation held with herself, they were locked in their own kink and unwilling to see how unhealthy it was.  He still had not touched her. Not one single time since sliding her chair up to the table, after she had sat gracefully into it, had his fingers so much as brushed hers.  The thought of that made her smile falter.  Lord, she had to pee; she looked at the door that held the restroom close.  No way, there was no fucking way she was going in there. Carmen would burst before she did that.  “No, I do not think he is the right man to lead this country though. Much too weak and much too deeply in the grip of partisan lobbyists.” Jason had been talking the whole time in that pleasantly deep voice he owned but Carmen had become distracted, there was a woman, a very pretty woman who was busy staring daggers at her.  She had been since they came in this evening; if looks could harm, Carmen would be a mass of blood.  She also noted that some of these women sat alone, in tables at the center of the large elegant room, below the chandelier where the light was brightest.  A light bulb flashed on in her mind as a single man went to another table near where little miss pissy sat, watched as he bent low, whispering into the ear of a very sympathetic redhead before leading her to his table.  Display case, those tables were fucking display cases and she was pissed off again.  Funny though, the redhead had seemed positively thrilled, if she was any judge, and she was.  “I thought Thomas would be joining us Jason. Was he kept late somewhere?”  Carmen smiled before going on; maybe Mel could be spared her terrible experience despite Carmen’s lack of courage.  “That is too bad-“  The man’s eyes looked to hers as though he hadn’t expected her to interrupt him. A long look, penetrating and pregnant with portentous moments where she wondered just what he was thinking. It made her shiver, no she was being silly, the window that framed the river view was opened a touch, there was a soft breeze from outside playing in the room, that had to be the cause of her shivers.  That HAD to be it.  A closed book, this man, closed to her despite her training, well, it was one she would not be reading further after tonight anyway.  “Very few people detain our friend Thomas, he’s here, just attending to the show.”  “I see“ Sje answered, but she didn’t, not really.  She wondered where the hell Melissa was then, she had figured her girlfriend for Thomas’ “Date” but realized belatedly that she had never asked about it, merely inferred.  The automatic screens over the window that showed them the river began rolling down with an electric hum and Joe could be seen locking the front door, turning out the lights in the foyer before sliding into this room.  This startled her even as every head in the place turned toward a man tapping his water glass with a spoon. They had locked the fucking doors and that scared her before she remembered their charter.  It hung on the wall, proclaimed this a “Gentleman’s club” had been issued by the city and that meant a fire marshal had inspected fire exits.  She could get out.  “Attention, if I could have your attention please!” Carmen watched the silver haired man closely as he spoke from a low, rolling stage that she had not seen being brought out and set up. He seemed to be a very patient man and the noise died down quickly, in spite of or maybe because of that. “As many of you know, tonight is a special occasion-”  The older man coughed politely and looked toward a well-padded woman tastefully hung with expensive jewelry who looked to match him in age, somewhere in her early fifties, her face bloomed into a smile that made green eyes shine then went down meekly as the fellow winked at her.  The club was now sealed to outside eyes and Carmen almost giggled to see the door attendant Joe slide to his knees beside a petite blonde-haired woman who occupied a table against the one of the far walls.  The woman’s smile purely feline as her hand fell over his head; the much larger man preened visibly under the petting she gave him  Shit.  Not strictly “Gentlemen Only” then.  “We all like to play with our unattached girls, I like a walk among the pretty little sluts myself. But eventually even the most playful of us gets attached to a girl and we are here tonight-”  “GO TOM!”  Laughter rippled from the men around the room as this ripped across the speech, the women joining in with only a split seconds hesitation.  As though they had waited to be certain that it was okay to laugh before doing so.  Carmen had laughed as well, despite all appearances, it seemed these people could be easy and have fun. Dissonance, that’s what it was.   She stole a look at Jason, the man was lounging, smoking a thin cigar and holding a cognac snifter in the other hand as the wait staff kept to the walls, quietly discreet as the older fellow talked. The candles provided most of the light and Carmen was sure that had been carefully planned for effect. It was damned effectual too, the man looked good in the low light.  “Yes, Tom. As you all know Master Thomas has decided to bind one of our most loved sluts to his hand.” Did they always talk like that? The mixture of degradation and formal civility sounded strange as hell in her ears.  “I see I’m only holding up the high point, I guess I should shut up and let better looking people stand up here.” He was smiling despite the disparaging words directed toward himself, and Carmen found herself actually liking the old guy. “After the ceremony is complete the basement will be opened so that the lovely new slave can be viewed and appreciated. I hope you enjoy yourselves, Jolene and I certainly shall.”  Carmen HAD to see this.  The slap could wait.  The older man had stepped down from the stage and was sitting beside the woman he had winked at earlier, their fingers joining in an incongruous tangle that looked strangely like a thing that lovers would do. She must have frowned or something as she watched because the man who had ignored her all evening took that moment to lean closer, still not touching her despite all of her expectations and whispering.  ”They’re married, he’s the club’s founder, Doctor Gentry. They make a very beautiful pair don’t you think?”  And how do you answer that save with the truth, the woman was obviously in love with the man who’d spoken, that shone through the candle lit gloom, was easy enough to see.  “Yes, they are“ She tactfully did not mention the outrageous idea of holding a slave in this year and time.  Thomas had entered the room, picking up a heavy wooden chair with carved arms. setting it down and sitting into it as soft music began playing. His face was mobile with expectation and he smiled at the few calls from the crowd. The man was nervous, that was easy to see. Why nervous though, she had been under the impression that men had nothing to be nervous about in this place.  Well, it should make interesting viewing if nothing else. She could always use it as a footnote for her memoirs one day. Carmen held a cold and detached aloofness in her ceor, a distance from the goings on around her that covered her like a psychic shield.  She even smiled at the light atmosphere. This was almost fun, almost.  Some hidden show master dimmed the lights even further, Carmen could only make out the intensely interested face of Jason and the iris lit stage in the dark. Everything else was twilit and shadowed, small whispers could be heard from various quarters but these too died slowly away, leaving a sort of hushed expectancy that Carmen found contagious hanging over the high ceilinged room.  A woman walked onto the stage, naked save for black high-heeled shoes, she had been pretty legs and a trim form that supported womanly breasts heavy enough to attract a man without being grossly disproportionate. The shoes were probably a practical aspect. Carmen’s mind immediately likened the thing to a rite of passage, stepping naked into a new existence as though being reborn.  Or remade, it depended very much on the culture behind the ritual.  Jason was no longer watching the stage but had turned to her and captured her hand in a strong grip, Speaking sharply in an intense whisper as Melissa looked up from where she was kneeling before Thomas.  “Be still, don’t you spoil this for her!” Carmen could not have said a word if she’d wanted to, her jaw was as frozen as her mind at the sight of her girlfriend up there. She knew those breasts, had shared a morning bathroom with them often enough after a long night out on the town had led Mel to sleep over at her place.  The pretty woman looked straight across the room at Carmen and smiled that blinding smile she had even as her eyes seemed to be begging for a chance to explain.  Ohmigod.  She must have gasped because Jason’s grip tightened on her fingers, she’d had to force herself to stop from standing bolt upright as Thomas gently pulled Mel’s face back, forcing her to focus on him. He was holding a collar and she was staring at the good-looking man with blatant adulation. Adulation, now that was not something that came over Melissa in three or four days.  No way!  With a sinking feeling in her belly that felt like a river of ice sliding toward a winter waterfall filling her completely, it became crystal clear to Carmen what had happened. The ice woke her up and numbed her at one and the same time.  Her best friend had cruelly manipulated her.  Her eyes went wide as she realized that this was her girlfriends stodgy old “Bridge club“ Bridge was a game she detested, a club of people who played it avidly was a place Carmen would never ever ask to accompany her to, never.  Melissa had always made it clear that she thought Carmen should have more to do with men, but this-  Her mind rebelled even as Jason’s fingers squeezed fingers that seemed to have gone numb, as cold as the ice that had gripped her gut.  Bitch! BitchBitchBitchBitch!    
 The couple had exchanged words that she hadn't heard, the collar was fastened around Mel’s neck as Carmen had been busy with herself. Carmen could only watch now, gulping at her brandy as a leash was affixed to her girlfriend’s neck; a leash, a motherfucking, honest to goodness leash hung from her neck.  No way  This was a bad joke, it could be nothing more than a very elaborate and incredibly tasteless bad joke.  But everyone was up and standing, Joe was offering smiles to Mel, who was positively beaming and people were easing forward as crowds do, all waiting to speak pleasant congratulations as the couple moved to a wide set of double doors that must lead to the basement.  Ah yes, the place where the new slave could be „viewed”  A shaky breath and she whispered a word, not really knowing that it had been audible in the easy bedlam-  …Jesus…  She took another deep breath that she didn't think she needed until it hit her lungs, as if that weren’t a crock of shit. She needed it and badly. “Shall we pet“?  That name and that voice almost made her cry.  The thought of slapping him had fallen so far back in her priorities that other things easily eclipsed that vain dream. She had to face Mel, had to see what the fuck this was all about. “Yes, I suppose there’s no getting past it is there.”  Looking to his face where he stood with his pretty hand simply held out between them, waiting for her patiently as the crowd filed down the stairs, Carmen nodded slowly and took it, stepping to him.  .  The waiters were walking with the crowd, carrying drinks or clearing the tables up here as they emptied, Jason’s hand was rock steady, held palm up and waiting for the fingers that she finally, resignedly placed into them, standing to join him. “No, there’s no getting past it, you must go through it pet. Those are very lovely stockings  I like them a lot Carmen.” And with that, he led her down the stairs to where the “Show” was starting, his hand possessively on her skirted ass as the double doors closed behind her with a click that might as well have been the clang of iron prison bars, so loud it was in her ears.  If Carmen had thought the goings-on upstairs were out of the norm, the basement was definitely crazy. The stairs ended in a huge room that was so full of paradox, it almost took her breath away.  There were large, comfortable looking sofa’s placed here and there, pretty tables and comfortable chairs that had been built in a style that could only be called “Massive“ Ashtrays in simple silver were placed tastefully beside humidors of what had to be good cigars and the whole place fairly reeked of gentility, money and good taste.  Bad cigars just would not fit in, somehow. She smirked a little, there was even a newspaper rack.  For the discerning guest she decided. The paradox lay in the hooks set into three of the walls around the room. And there, a wooden cross, x-form, black and an almost exact mirror image of a drawing she had seen from the time of the Spanish Inquisition during some long forgotten history discussion. The room was roughly rectangular with only a few wide, bricked arches that held up the first floor to block the view of anything that was going on in the place.  Some of what was going on quite literally made her gape. Jason grinned, no, the man smirked as he slid a chair out for her to sit in.  A signal honor, it seemed, most of the women were kneeling beside a man’s chair or leashed to a wall as though waiting for a hand to take them away from that boring state. What had made her gape and possibly gasp was the sight of Joe kneeling before that petite woman he had joined earlier, gently licking her pussy as a little, hard knuckled fist held him there. Now that was absolute control and it made her shiver, despite her disgust, she became wet and traitorously tingly at the crotch. Now she wished she had worn the panties.  “Don’t worry Carmen, you're a guest, you are allowed a chair“  Allowed, imagine that.  His eyebrow rose higher, crinkling his forehead a bit and the grin he shot at her was amused, almost the way it had been amused back in the bar. Where, she now knew, he had fascinated her. “If you feel the need to kneel, feel free, no one will stop you pet.“ She grimaced wryly, all thoughts of slapping the man pushed from her mind by what was actually a very fascinating study of the human psyche. She answered him with a very dry and sarcastic “I’m sure.”  He was playing with her, she could see it in his eyes but his smile was awful hard not to smile back at when it combined with the easy surety the man projected.  “Excuse me, I need to congratulate Thomas, I won’t be long.“ Again, he was the perfect cavalier, moving off in the casually brisk way he had. The offer of coffee came from over her shoulder and she nodded, the waiter distanced and remote as he walked about the place with a roll cart after serving her, avoiding the milling people as his path took him through what was becoming quite the party.  If you had asked the pastor of the church she had been required to attend during her childhood, he would have certainly found the activities weird. He might even have termed it evil, maybe.  Thomas was nodding at something Jason had said, reaching down to unclip the leash, Jesus Mel, a fucking leash and you would have thought a psychologist would have picked up on THAT in her personality, but she hadn't.  Her best girlfriend actually licked the man’s hand before standing, hurrying to where Carmen sat and kneeling before her grasping Carmen’s knees.  The dagger-eyed slut she’d seen earlier was also moving, heading for a door that obviously led to a restroom.  That reminded Carmen of her own duress, making her squirm on the chair and push the coffee away even as Mel slowed to a sudden stop, prudently out of reach of her hand. Carmen watched and knew anger had suffused her normally elegant features. The heat in her cheeks was enough proof of that. No way, Carmen decided, not here, she would hold it until she could sneak in there unnoticed  “Oh Carmen, baby, please don’t be angry with me.“ Carmen restrained the urge to slap her at that. “Mel-“  Her jaw tightened even as tears seemed to shine through the happiness her girlfriend was obviously feeling. Her girlfriend, yes, Carmen took a long look at the woman kneeling there, looking as though she’d just won the lottery and lost a mother in the same five minute time span. Carmen knew that she would forgive her, knew it in that moment- but fuck!  It wasn't easy, not at all.  “Do you know what he did to me Melissa? Do you know?“ She took a deep breath as it came back full force into her mind; it was a needed breath and very deep, shaky as it expanded her belly in a reach for calm.  Melissa nodded and stretched up to throw her arms around Carmen’s neck, squeezing her tight enough that Carmen began to worry she would be choked to death. “I know Carmen, he told us about it.“ Carmen gasped “He told you-“  That left her non-plussed and dumbfounded. “Melissa!”  Somehow, she just KNEW the little minx was grinning even as she felt for the hard bruising Carmen’s soul had taken.  “I thought he would be gentler Carmen, Thomas did too, the man is usually pure ice.”  Melissa finally quit wrangling her neck and slid back down into a kneeling position before Carmen’s crossed legs. “He’s considered one of the best trainers in the club-“ Barmen snorted at the upturned face, saying “Bridge club huh?“  That brought a sheepish smile to Mel’s face and Carmen had to join it with a wry one of her own. “Would you have let me explain it to you if I told you I went every week to get tied down and have my ass whipped“ Carmen’s answer was dry, how did you answer something like that. “Probably not“ Somehow, the absolute contradiction of that statement with the image she had of her free living and powerful girlfriend would not allow her to make a fast quip or repartee.  Why would she want that? She was a liberated woman if ever thee was one, Carmen had seen Mel toss a drink in a groping asshole’s face to many times in various bars to think of her as some meek “Yes, sir, no sir and may I please sir-“ type woman.  “Why would you want that Mel, why would any woman want that?” Mel’s fingers found hers as she knelt there silently pondering an answer to the question; Carmen thought she was pondering anyway, the fingers squeezed once and then a second time as the other woman’s eyes went introspective.  Carmen was doing some pondering herself, staring fascinated at the thin black line of leather that now circled her best friend’s neck. She could see Jason and Thomas still talking, and the tanned face man was absently smacking the new leash into his palm as they discussed whatever they discussed. They were looking over here as well, watching, and both faces were seemingly unconcerned about what was happening here with the two friends. She believed the two men weren't acutely aware of the two women like she believed Melissa was a virgin and a prude.     Dagger eyes was walking back from the restroom, she’d lost all clothing save the simple black spiked shoes she’d been wearing and Carmen had to admit she was a striking woman, very pale and very aloof under beautiful hair.  “Don’t think I haven’t wondered the sane goddamn thing myself too often, Carmen. I came here on a simple date three years ago, I never once wanted to stop coming after that.  I think I want to be-“ the pause was not long but it said volumes, it spoke of the search for an honest insight and that made Carmen listen closer. “Cared for maybe, maybe that’s it. Held”  The shorter woman took a deep breath and went on hurriedly as Carmen’s attention focused back o her. The fingers squeezed again as though asking silently for absolution. “Other men always wanted to fuck me, these men, they want to care for me. Somehow, Cara-“ Mel’s pet name for her girlfriend came and Carmen knew she was in agony, her eyes shining into Carmen’s as though she could make her understand through sheer need alone.  “Somehow I can let go and, and, I need that Carmen and I thought you might enjoy it as well and please say you won’t hate me forever Cara-“  Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.  “I don’t hate you Mel, I could choke the shit out of you right now, but I don’t hate you, I couldn’t hate you baby. Give me some time, maybe I can even understand it.”  She was woman enough to understand the attraction of a powerful man, psychologist enough to try to see all sides of it. “Mel, I’ve got to pee!” However, there was no more time. Thomas and Jason were coming to them, The latter sitting easily, wagging a finger to one of the white coated waiters in an indication of his need of him as Thomas came up to stand beside the kneeling form of Melissa.  “Hello, I’m Thomas, of course“ The man smiled and Carmen could see some of what made her girlfriends eyes sparkle. It all seemed a lot like a normal male/female relationship taken to extremes, the things that were being played out in front of her eyes and to all sides. In her time as a clinical therapist, she’d seen “Normal” women look to their mens faces like that, considered it a sign of true love.  That she was seeing it here, with a dog leash used to direct the giver of that adulation, rocked her. Maybe she was the one out of step. Was everyone hip but Grandma?  Damn.  “Yes, I know.“ He actually extended a hand and shook it, just like normal, what the hell was normal though?  Oh, she had to pee!  “Yes, the tables need to be pushed back, it is time for the viewing. And have a light directed this way please.“ Jason had stood as his chair was taken, the table that held the coffee she’d been unable to drink was moved away and she noticed that the others in the room were beginning to turn toward their little subgroup.  Thomas was petting Mel’s hair and whispering something into her ear as Jason came up behind the chair Carmen was sitting in. Then Thomas was addressing her. “We've done a lot of thinking Carmen, and the way you were initiated was probably a bit too much for a first experience.“ Thomas went on unhurriedly as the lights went down everywhere but here with them, if anything it increased a bit.  “We would like you to accept our apologies, you are a lovely lady, and Jason is quite taken with you. We thought having you here to share in Melissa’s lucky day would be a start to changing your view of us; most of us are good people, just kinky.“ He pointed toward the Doctor, who was sitting in a chair next to his woman, she’d been undressed to her waist and was kneeling before the happily smiling older man, idly stroking what was a very ordinary sized penis while beaming a smile toward Carmen.  Oh no, they had something planned.  “The good doctor is into control; most of the men here are in some form or other. I’m a lawyer and Jason makes loads of money for huge corporations.” Carmen had to answer that. “And I’m a psychologist and think a lot of you should be on my patient list.“  “Carmen!“ Hissed out of Melissa’s mouth but many of the people, women and men, were grinning at that. What were the fucking rules in this madhouse?  Were there rules in this place? Were the collared women allowed a sense of humor as well? It seemed that they were as they joined in the chuckling and polite laughter.  Damn! LORD, she had to pee!  Her eyes locked onto those of the man speaking but the urge to look toward the door that hid a place of relief was becoming nearly overpowering. “That might be, I concede the point Carmen. Before we go any further tonight though, I have to ask you if you would like to leave.“ Melissa’s eyes were begging her to stay and Jason was acting as though something else, anything else was of more importance to him than her answer. He was looking anywhere but at her, having moved slightly before and to the side of where she sat. She realized hers was the only chair left in the cleared space.  Maybe his fingernails were more important to him than she was, but some part of Carmen would not believe that, her ego refused to believe it anyway.  “Melissa can let you out if you decide to go, but you should know, we never, ever ask a person twice.“ Mel had turned, putting both arms on Carmen’s black-sheathed legs and shaking her head “Uh-uh” in that too familiar way.  Damn, fuck, damn.  In the end, it was a triumvirate of reasons that kept her sitting there.  Her dearest friend was begging her to stay seated  Where else would she ever get to study this sort of fascinating, perverse cultural subset and-?  And, to make matters worse, Jason wasn’t looking at her.  He was not looking at her at all and she found that that made something feel hollow somewhere deep inside her chest.  “No-“  Take a deep breath Carmen, blow it out calmly, you're a full-grown woman, lady! Carmen’s mind was talking to itself furiously, a part of it wanting her to get up, slap Jason and leave, the other part was gibbering in a low and panicky fear, aghast that her legs weren't lifting her ass up off of the chair she was perched on and getting her away from these people. Her mind was telling her to look at Jason, look and see if he’s looking at you, urging her to make him look at her.  “No, Thomas, I’ll stay.”  It was that simple and the hardest thing she’d ever done, as he nodded, she hoped the sudden smile on Melissa’s face would be worth it.  The turn of Jason’s head at that, the sudden smile she saw on his face sure was worth it. And that realization made her heart sink.  She was lost.  
 Lost. 
 
 
 
 
 The atmosphere changed visibly as soon as Carmen had spoken her intent to stay aloud. Jason had smiled widely and Carmen realized with a sudden shock that she might be in love even as Melissa turned to ask something of Thomas. Pretty, pleading eyes were looking up into his as slender arms circled his knees. Mel’s hands were sliding gently along the back of the man’s thighs and his fingers had fallen tenderly to her hair as he listened, pulling and tugging on it fondly.  Then she couldn’t see anything else as Jason’s face filled her immediate view.  “I had hoped you would stay, Carmen.” Low, whispered and just for her, she was breathless even as she understood her emotions were working to betray her, working on overtime, which was evident enough, proven by the flush that swelled from her bosom to cover her face.  Then she really flushed, going crimson as Jason moved behind her chair, placing a hand on each shoulder as she looked up at him.  She was nervous, the crowd had became positively intent and Jason was nodding at Thomas even as Melissa gave a tiny happy squeal and turned on her knees to face Carmen.  “Please Cara-  Don’t be angry with me, please.”  With that nod and a gentle touch of Thomas’ hand to the back of her pretty head Melissa placed one palm to each of Carmen’s knees and began persistently trying to open them.  “What, Mel- Oh no..” This was too much and she tried to stand up, needing to get away, into the restroom at least, to gain time…  To breathe…  Jason’s grip tightened on her shoulders, but she knew, somehow, that at this point she could still stand up and walk away.  However, she also knew in a message conveyed by that warm, firm grip, a gentle hold that said he wanted her to stay. He wanted this, badly, and she screamed internally as a new division split her soul. At the need for a new division, where the hell was her choice in this whole thing?  Her belly roiled with the after effects of his kiss and Carmen’s eyes closed in a sudden shame as she eased the lock that had held her legs tensely closed.  She had to pee…  She had to pee and Mel’s face was grinning up at hers as it slid unstoppably along the internal vee made by her silk encased thighs; the little hands were moving to chivvy her skirt up, up and over her belly and Mel kept looking up at Carmen’s face as the garters snaking over hr thighs became visible. Trying to gauge the reaction to what she was doing even as she joyed in the doing of it.  That was easy enough to see, the girl positively oozed happiness.  Sonofabitch, how had she missed this one, Carmen had always considered her girlfriend an open and easy to read book, for her anyway, the trained head doctor.  That tore it, she almost laughed, almost; as the skirt became a belt around her tummy, never ever again was she wearing a skirt, never.  An idle thereat, that.  Then a sigh went up from the viewers as Melissa’s tongue made that first tentative contact with her pussy. Carmen couldn't see it, Melissa’s hair hid the view even as her ass reared higher, the smaller body seeking a better position as both of those tiny hands moved to grip the taller woman’s ass cheeks, pulling forward in the chair until Carmen was almost laying on the seat. Greedy little bitch, and lord she would never have thought to see  Mel  doing anything with a woman. Never mind doing it with her, just fucking never mind that!  She was definitely cock dedicated but the sheer pleasure of it…rocked her. Carmen could not.  She just couldn’t do this.  A weird vision of her one time pastor brandishing the bible at a pulpit flashed through her mind and a thousand oratories about the fires of hell snapped across her memory even as Carmen put her hands on Mel’s head.  To push her away, to hold her closer, even she didn't know which, it was some of both of those, maybe.  “Oh-no…please, I can’t do this! I just can’t do this!”  But her legs betrayed her, not standing to get up until Jason leaned over her head, laughing softly and putting a large hand below each knee.”  “Yes, you can, Carmen” Lord, he was rolling her knees up, spreading her for anyone to see and she nearly died in crimson shame. Her knees touched her shoulder and she marveled at the sudden feel of his hardness as it tried to stab her softly in the neck. Cloth covered and apparently ignored by him, it amazed her that the sight of her curled like this could make his body react so, the rubbery heat of it’s presence a distraction despite the bondage of his trousers, one of many.  Then she stopped worrying about things like that, as her mind stumbled onto a warm fuzzy realization of the physical, her mind was busy. Physical and very impossible to ignore, his hands were more than a touch too hard around her knees as he crushed her breasts below them, and that devilish tongue that was lapping her center like some cruel tool of a tormenting inquisitor could not be put out of her mind.  And maybe, just maybe, she didn’ want to.  “Please, Jason, pleeease. Let me go.”  She couldn't see his face any longer; the way Mel had pulled her forward Carmen would fall off the chair if he released her. Her head had sunk to her breast as the back of the chair forced it forward, and she held tight to lightly bobbing, exploring head that was tormenting her.  Held it with her hands even as her thighs spread slutlike to allow her the freedom of movement that felt so…  Good  Goddamn it, it felt too good and the sound of his quietly controlled voice falling down from above her only caused the spiky heels of both feet to thud hard onto Melissa’s lower back. The tiny groan of pain thrilled through her swollen labia, causing her belly to burn in warmth.  A warmth that surprised her even as it began to invade the rest of her body.  “No Carmen, I may never let you go again”  And wasn’t that a phrase to make a modern woman’s eyes fly open.  Lord, she had to piss! Oh, fuck she had to piss!  Badly, and her girlfriend had just inserted a dainty long nailed finger into her pussy, which drove her absolutely crazy, her ass beginning a slow roll as the center, her clitoris kept trying to match orbits with that crazy making tongue.  It did nothing for her control of an already impatient bladder.  God, she was wet and her cheeks glowed again with the thought, the feeling of absolute degradation, that this was taking place before a crowd of calmly watching men and women scared her, nauseated her, terrified the shit out of her if she were truthful. That reality was like ocean waves beating at some bastion of her landlocked mind, eroding the pleasant defenses of a lifetime.  One thought horrified her as the bladder threatened to rebel, severe need and physical stimulation of those places that a woman obviously knew to touch made her gasp as much as the sloppy lick of a tongue across her rectum.  Was that pussy juice or piss?  “Oh god…”  She started to push at Melissa’s head in a quietly frantic way, speaking low enough that she hoped none of the audience could hear. Her voice as it came to her ears seemed strange to her, pleading in a way that some part of her had always assumed she would never hear passing her lips. Other women, weak women, plead like that before men. Not her!  “Mel- Jason- I have to pee-  Now! Let me up, please!”  The reaction surprised her, and she suddenly realized that she had moved into an area that the casual knowledge imparted by Hollywood and the occasional lurid tabloid article of what goes on in a place like this was insufficient to the reality, wildly insufficient.  Jason laughed darkly and simply held her tighter, an unseen rope that bound her with a ten digit cord from behind, but Thomas must have heard, he had stepped forward vigorously at her request, his large hand wrapping around the back of Mel’s head, holding her to Carmen’s sopping cunt.  Cunt  She never used words like that and what the hell, now she had to squirm.  The crowd had obviously sensed a change as well, they were leaning forward in their places, whether kneeling or sitting, the only eyes not focused on her were either in a head that was being savagely held into some man’s groin or busy attending to some task that served to assuage a dominant desire.  She was the entertainment, and another bit of shame began to glow in her chest as she realized some part of her liked that.  Some part of her liked what Mel was doing and there was even a teasing thought way in back asking why they had not tried it before, she had slept over often enough.  Receiving the logical response that no way would she have tried this at home.  Carmen was, at heart, a prude.  Someone had passed Thomas a silver champagne bucket and she cringed to see him slide it below Mel’s busy chin, an action that did make her struggle.  “Ohnono no, no way you BASTARD!”  She wanted to kick her legs down, she would not do this, that was sick, twisted and …  “Goddamn it let go of me and let me go to the restroom.” She spoke in an even voice, the anger in it easily heard despite her attempt at a level authority.  It didn't work. Thomas was crouched beside Mel, whispering intently into her ear even as he held her face to Carmen’s puffy, blood-swollen lips. The long obscene kiss was seemingly never-ending.  Fuck, the thought was totally inexplicable and barely made it through the incipient hated orgasm that she could feel coming.  Mel’s tongue had to be sore by now.  Didn’t it?  Then Jason’s forearms curled under her knees where his fingers had been, holding her still. He was bruising her she was sure, it ached where his grip had been,  Jason’s arms supported her in a gentle way that shocked when held up against the tableau and the activities going on everywhere in this strange place.  There was an awful lot of tenderness in what she was seeing, more than she ever would have believed. The men seemed inclined to be that way when they got exactly what they wished for, which, in this place must always happen.  It was the nature of this Dog Kennel Club and she had known that, she supposed, when she’d agreed to stay. Why had she agreed to stay though, that was the question.  His hands freed, Jason was running them over her breasts, mauling her softly through the light blouse as he bent low, stealing the sight of anything but his face from her. His face as he kissed her tit, his chest and him, him, him as he sucked a hard nipple past pursed lips, words started before being cut off by the willing gag of her flesh.  “No Carmen…cum!”  The voice was steel hard and definitely a command; she didn't follow commands, fuck.  However, the epithet and the rebellion were screamed inside her head where it remained ineffectual.  At that he shoved a hand in between the sloppy mess Mel’s tongue had made of her cunt and the still suckling lips of her girlfriend, two fingers invading her deeply without any hesitation, fucking her and then she was crying in shame even as his lips moved to kiss her belly softly.  It wasn't as though she weren't slick enough.  Thomas was pulling Mel away for some use of his own desire and the whole room could see her held like that as tears began to roll down her face, fists pounding at the broad back of Jason, the only part of him she could reach.  Tears and cum and her gut was wrenching at the orgasm as it stopped her thinking of anything but his touch, her tongue those people and her humiliation.  “Jassonnnnnn..”  Long and drawn out, a moan of his name and that was a shameful thing in itself, a terrible surrender but she could not control it no matter how hard she might try.  She couldn't hold it any longer, her body rebelling, the floodgates opened and she wept bitterly at his smug laugh, urine flowing over his fingers and the man spoke so fucking calmly, the words sinking into her belly  “Yes pet… cum!” He crooned into her flesh. She writhed and gasped as it all rolled over her. “Jason….Go-o-o-o-o-d-d-d-d-d-d!” She was shuddering and clenching, her body a burning, clenching mass of heat and wanton shame. Everyone was watching, everyone.  She couldn't stop it, piss and girl cum flowed into the bucket and onto the floor. She was powerless, completely powerless to stop any of it. 
 Please let her die.  Oh lord, the sensations went from head to toe and head to soul as the hardest orgasm she had ever yet experienced in her life claimed her for a small eternity. She heard it, even if no one else did... As she came the place had erupted into a loud cheer, but she heard him say it into her tummy. Words meant only for her. 
 “Goooood girl!”  Her eyes closed on her last coherent thought for awhile. Please, let her live. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 “Ummhhh” Carmen rolled and stretched in the big bed. She didn't hurt, not her body anyway, not really. With wakefulness came memory and she looked hurriedly to the other side of the bed.  Jason wasn’t there and she was certain he’d fucked her to sleep in a way, a gentle and tender way, that had surprised her completely.  Disappointment was a very large and very new thing in her middle, yet she noticed the little note left on the nightstand beside his side of the bed and smiled.  That stopped her a moment even as she sat up naked on the edge, he had left a note.  “I have an early meeting over a hundred miles away, I’ll call you later in the day. You made me very happy pet.”  Signed in a bold hand at the bottom and the signature made her smile even as she laid it back down and went in sleepy search of coffee, his signature was as certain and sure as the man himself  “Jason”  .  He had bruised the back of her knees, and the whole thing had bruised her soul somehow, left her ego black and blue in a way that scared her to the core. A realization hit her as coffee slid into the cup she’d taken form her orderly cupboard. He’d told her that he was falling in love with her, and that had let her mind hide the shame she felt.  What had happened to her, how-?  Why-  Why did she let it happen?  She forced herself not to blush as the toast popped up and actually smiled when the telephone rang. It had been primal, her dreams had replayed the slickly lapping tongue over and over again as she slept, the touch of Jason somehow alloyed to it in her deepest places, those places where she only dared walk when dreaming.  It as Melissa, wanting a phone breakfast, among other things, maybe she wanted to be certain they were still best friends.  “Good morning, Mel“ The voice on the other end of the line made her smile again in it’s liquid anxiety. “Is HE still there Cara“?  Carmen grinned and sipped a slug of coffee, her girlfriend was nervous, almost whispering into the telephone. She had reason, Mel had told Carmen last night that she was worried terribly for their friendship, told her this once Carmen had been sent to the restroom to clean herself up.  Allowed to clean herself up and that set a quiver loose in Carmen’s stomach that had to be ignored, if she took it out now and looked at it, she might not make it to work, and she must.  Must be ignored, Mel had also told her how pretty she was “Down there” and how long she had wanted to do that with her, to her.  The night had been a revelation, indeed.  “Now that’s one hell of a greeting Mel, no, he isn't, he had business to attend to. Quite an eye opener Mel“ She felt sovereign and in control as she spoke to her friend, the giggle on the other end seemingly right, normal, and somehow fitting to the other woman’s personality.  “You didn’t seem so relaxed with it last night Carmen.”  Then that changed suddenly, the giggle was gone and the anxiety was back, clearly heard through the digital telephone connection.  “I am sorry Cara-“  Mel seemed to take a deep breath even as Carmen swallowed another hasty slug of coffee, sliding a pretty and still sore leg under her ass on the chair. “I’m sorry about how I chose to do things, how it worked out, but I am not sorry at what I was allowed to give you! I've wanted to for a very long time.”  And what did a girl say to that? The image of her friend’s pretty head nuzzling unstoppable at the tender place between her legs threatened to unleash a flood of warm pleasure that could only bring guilt. She wasn't supposed to be attracted to that shit.  “Goddamn it Melissa, you could have asked me.” She snarled. Mel asked right back “Would you have said yes Carmen? Would you even have considered the idea?” Carmen almost let some of the resentment she was feeling out, knew she should but also had a feeling that if she did, she and Melissa would lose something precious. Carmen had always been the stronger of the two, self-discipline coming easily to her. That thought forced the image of Thomas guiding and directing Mel’s head, and that made a sort of click happen in her mind.  Yes, she could see that about her girlfriend, she needed Thomas, needed the structure he offered.  “I am not angry Mel, not really, he told me he loved me“ And that provoked a squeal from the other end of the phone that made her snatch the receiver from her ear and take a bite of toast as incomprehensible babble flooded the air between the plastic thing and her head.  Mel was still talking as Carmen cradled the receiver between cheek and shoulder, standing to clear the few dishes away, placing them in the sink where she would get to them after work.  A refill of the coffee Jason had made, not bad, the man had his uses she decided, and then she and the voice of Melissa were walking back to the shower.  Damn, ninety minutes until her first appointment of the day and Carmen detested being late.  “What do you mean Thomas likes me?”  The phrase had been plucked from out of a torrent of things that seemed to keep Melissa breathless, the relief had opened a floodgate that made it seem for a moment as though things were normal, nothing had happened.  An illusion.  “Well, he does, he says he likes your strength and that you are very pretty, Thomas seems to think you are the perfect match for Jason. You are really.” Toothpaste and brush thoroughly while considering this, looking idly at the mirror to see if there were an outward sign of her apparent depravity. She HAD enjoyed it, everything except the hot urine flowing over Jason’s hands in front of a crowd of strangers. Carmen looked up and noticed the woman in the mirror was blushing furiously and told Melissa in a sharper tone than she should have “Hey, I still have a few problems with the whole thing Mel. Not even a week ago I was a normal woman kinda-sorta looking for a husband or maybe just a lover, I've been through a lot- I need a bit of time Mel. I can’t get flippant yet and I have a huge issue with men discussing me as though I were a horse for sale-“  And that stopped her, stopped her dead, Mel understood and she had to hang up.  Time was pressing.  It was okay to cry in the shower wasn't it, okay or not, her tears mixed unseen with the hot water and scented soap as she searched deep for a bit of strength.  She was in love, and she was dead afraid of the fact that she wanted her girlfriend to do that again and lord, this had been damned hard to figure out when life had been a crystal clear puzzle not even one-  Week-  Ago.  Now it was impossible, and she wanted to beat her fists on the uncaring tiles of the shower walls, but she didn’t, the tears stopped and the soap was applied.  Duty is a great thing, it helps the mind put things into cassettes and boxes, lets us move on to the mundane and make it from sundown to sundown even when the mind wants to gibber and scream for all the paradoxical things that life forced on it.  It helped now and within the allotted time, dressed all in a very severe black pantsuit that had never appealed to her before, not since the day she’d bought it on a whim anyway, Carmen entered her office. Traffic had been a bitch and it was a relief to close the heavy oak door and just read through the coming patient’s file.  A referral from the exclusive Park Hospital in the center of the city, well, at least the insurance company was a good one. An interesting patient as well, intelligent and she read the warning from the colleague on staff at Park, this one enjoyed playing mind games, well, so did she, she used them to heal.  He would call, and Thomas liked her and she had to take a deep breath, reminding herself of duty as the door opened. The day was beginning.  “Hello, come in and sit down please. I'll be right with you.  But she was not really watching, her mind was in a loop and Carmen had to sigh, looking out the window briefly before settling into what she was good at, smiling professionally and turning in her chair to focus as one clarion thought rang though her mind.  He had said he loved her.  
 Mr. Xavier Grey, her first patient today and a troubling one at that, the man was very confused and perhaps very dangerous. She thought of the young kid he had been, saddled with a name like that in modern America and shuddered, thinking she knew where his anger originated.  He didn't look dangerous, not at all, that was the problem and she really wished they’d kept him in the hospital ward.  He was very clever, intelligent; Carmen had a sneaking suspicion that his native intelligence had coupled with a latent aggression to make him a very scary man. Marshalling her thoughts, she turned her attention to her patient. First things first, find out what had set his feet on the path to who he was now. Well, that was a day behind her, and thank all the Gods above that it was, too. Carmen was bone weary as she packed the last of what had seemed an insurmountable pile of folders into the wall cabinet she kept them in, turning the key to lock them into privacy gratefully.  “Goodnight” she heard “Goodnight!” She smiled and replied with the same. Her two assistants usually put in an hour or so more than she on any given day, typing, organizing and making her day easier.  They were pure gold and she thought about a way to show them that as she marched toward the elevators.  Carmen occupied herself on the long ride down the elevator shaft with her usual appearance check, the company that manufactured these had outfitted the interiors with large mirrors and she smiled at the way that seemed to bring the Narcissist out in just about everyone.  It would seem everybody wished to know what they looked like, how they ticked.  She was no exception. There was a wonderful smell coming from a street vendor, Pastrami and toasted rye bread that made her mouth water and the flat tummy below her light jacket growl as it wormed its way into her conscience. That made her actually take stock of her immediate surroundings and she noticed the sun going down in a crimson blaze that somehow screamed-  “Summer’s coming”  A warmth rode on the wind that had more to do with a change of the seasons than the auto exhaust that never stopped rolling into the sky above the city.  “I don’t feel like cooking.” she was talking to herself, trying to remember if she had cash or her cards with her as the vendor spoke, startling her, he was dark haired, Italian and probably ten years younger than she. “Then don’t! I’m a very good cook.” He was smiling and very handsome, thin, tall and charming in an instant.  Carmen weakened, standing there, talking about the oddest little things as the younger man made her a sandwich that she would never be able to finish alone.  He was flirting with her outrageously and Carmen found that she liked it; maybe she even flirted back at him, a bit, enjoying the easy flow that held no promises.  She was almost sad that the conversation would end as he placed the huge thing carefully into her hand, the man had really overdone it, and this sandwich must have cost him his profit margin. “Oh no, that’s too much, I could never eat that all by myself.” The cook shrugged and picked up his wide bladed knife, ripping aluminum foil from its roll in a smooth movement.  He moved like a dancer in his youth and Carmen found herself wondering how he would move between her legs as he smiled into her eyes.  “Here, let me cut it in two for you, if you get the half that you don’t eat into the fridge within an hour or so, you have lunch for tomorrow!” How simple, and how bright, his easy way of making a problem an asset appealed to her nature.  Carmen liked competence.  She realized her mind was being a shameless hussy, but Carmen didn't care, on an impulse she had to ask-  “It says Tony’s over the door, is that you?”  “Yes and no, Tony was my father, I am Antonio, it’s a pleasure to meet such a lovely lady“  Antonio, and proud to use the old fashioned form of that name, she saw, he made a tiny half bow then finished the wrapping of her sandwiches. Pushing them back into her hands and stealing a look past the zipper of her jacket, Carmen found his simple lust cute and grinned at the implied compliment.  . “Free of charge for a name pretty lady”  He was smiling as though he didn't expect to get that from her but wanting to.  What the fuck, you only lived once and what was the harm in a name.  “My name’s Carmen Ton-“ She stopped; Carmen thought names were sacrosanct and always tried to address people as they wished to be addressed.  “Antonio, but you must let me pay!” He laughed and waved her money away. “No, please, how often do I get the pleasure of such a woman as you in my little shop?”  She had to smile and accede, thinking the whole time that Mel would have had his number and set a date by now. The man was incredibly sexy; maybe it was the dark skin or the brilliant smile below his eyes.  Maybe it was just the easy way he moved, swaying like a dancer in his little shop, moving with an easy sensuality that warmed her belly despite the hunger she felt.  He seemed like a young puppy looking to mate with anything that would stand still, in a vibrant sort of way, there was no harm in him. However, he was not Jason and she was not Mel, and not everything in the world had to be dramatic.  After smiles and a quick retreat, Carmen was outside ad looking for a taxi, wanting to get home so she could tear into that sandwich.  Damn she was rally hungry, now, and not just for food.  The taxi cost a lot, they always did and in the back of her mind she was glad that she had toughed her college years out, it seemed better to have plenty of money rather than less and this thought occupied her all the way up to her apartment.  Have you ever walked into your home and known that it was occupied? There is an air to it that sets the hairs at the back of a person’s neck to rising, it can be felt by almost any human, instinct, and she slowed as soon as it hit her.  Someone was here. “Hello…“  Carmen set her handbag and the sandwiches down onto the low oak shoe cabinet that she kept by the door, walking carefully into her living room while snatching her cell phone free of its perch on her belt.  “Is anybody here, hello…?“  Maybe there’d been a repair to be made, the super had a key, they were good at informing the tenants of scheduled repairs but reserved the right to enter any apartment if a water line broke or some other immediate trouble needed attention. That was only prudent and had never been a problem, not yet anyway.  Maybe that was it, but the living room was empty.  That left the bathroom, the mirror still slightly fogged and water was dripping from the shower head as she opened the door, that made her frown and turn to the bedroom.  She was walking even slower now, the emergency police number had been programmed into her phone and her thumb was on the “call” button as she edged toward the door.  Carmen’s heart was racing and any thought of hunger had given way to the butterflies of fear, something screamed that she should leave, go outside and call the police, wait for them, be prudent, but that would be silly, what if she were wrong? Her long fingernails pushed the door that had only been touched to the frame, not latched, as her voice assayed one last challenge.  “Hello, is anybody in here…”  Screwing up her courage, closing her eyes briefly and taking a deep breath, realizing that her mind was going through about a million crazy scenario’s borrowed from gruesome movies and newspaper accounts, Carmen pushed the door wide and looked into the room. 
   Jason Brock liked to drive himself, despite the fact that his position and money could easily justify a driver. He was a man who joyed in being able to do many things himself, most of them physical and difficult. This wasn't difficult, driving was a pleasure, actually.  He did use a driver when necessary. Sometimes a bit of pomp and the show of affluence could help negotiations run a little smoother, get them over the inevitable bumps that came along.  The highway eased along below him, wonderfully tuned speakers keeping his mind busy with easy music, distracting him from the tedium of the road. They should sound good, he thought idly to himself. If you considered the sticker price of the powerful car he was driving, nothing in it should be less than top quality.  A time and place for everything mused through his mind as he passed a family van easily, doing exactly five miles per hour more than allowed, a calculated risk that he felt was justified. It was just a bad idea to arrive at a meeting of union representatives in a chauffeured car, it set them against you immediately and was a tactical error of the type that Jason didn’ make. Common sense alone said you didn't show up in a limousine, especially when you needed to convince them that production jobs were just too expensive and had to be tightened up to make sure other jobs remained.  Not like the mistake he had almost made with Carmen, the thought of her made him smile as the miles went smoothly by, a controlled smile despite his solitary occupancy of the big Cadillac. Jason was a man trained to command the flow and ebb of any negotiation and he did it remarkably well. Control was a sort of personal standard with him.  With Carmen he hadn't felt like negotiating, had allowed a gut instinct to shatter his control in a move that could have won him the game and lost him the pennant. There’d been nothing of calculation in his treatment of her that first night, the smile became a grimace as a little kid waved at him from the side window of the van, smiling, happy and his round face more than a bit sticky with what looked like lollipop spit from this distance.  Red lollipop spit at that. He returned the wave with a grin, somebody was enjoying himself. Well, He had to admit that he’d lost control, that was more than unusual, they had named him Iceblock in college, saying he never changed his facial expression once it set, not for pain nor victory, loss nor love.  That was a bit far fetched, but Jason’s cock grew hard as be drove along, thinking of some of the lovely ladies he had had the pleasure of training in the past.  Some had even touched him, made him smile or earned his anger, but none, not a single one, had ever captured him as Carmen had.  Maybe it had been the skirt or perhaps the realization that she was a sexual babe in the woods.  Carmen Preis was definitely an innocent when compared to people like him, Thomas Aquinos, or even her own best friend Melissa Roth.  He shook his head, Jason had almost dicked up that careful dance, the choreography had been carefully planned and he had almost blown the whole thing. But damn she had looked good, sweet and vulnerable, shining like a jewel in the darkness of that terrible dive Melissa had recommended. He supposed the adrenaline of the altercation had charged him, influenced his actions.  The white lines sliding monotonously by on the asphalt split and divided as the highway widened into four lanes. Jason flicked the heavy steering wheel right to move the car onto the cloverleaf access lane, powering down the asphalt and quietly satisfied that his journey would be over in the next ten minutes.  He hoped Carmen liked his peace offering, it was as much that as an attempt to kill two birds with one stone. Watching the traffic in his rear-view mirror and trying to move left, he thought about the efficiency of his idea.  She would find his last consort, Leslie Hastings, waiting for her this evening.  Once you started on the path, you might as well travel it was one of the things he believed.  Leslie hadn't been compatible with him, had not managed to keep his interest though she still tried. Trucks flashed by mere feet from his door, faster than he as he tried to move over. Jason was forced to brake as the oncoming vehicles made a solid wall to his left.  Just lovely, late afternoon traffic and his schedule was tight already.  They had stolen the idea from some wedding celebration gags popular around the country and it had worked well in the Dog Kennel before this. Tonight Carmen would be “Kidnapped” by Melissa and Joe, then brought to a place where little miss “Better than all others” Hastings would be waiting.  Tied  Joe was the very embodiment of tact and Melissa was there to whisper “She’s getting married” to anyone who looked askance at a hooded women be “Stolen” from her apartment building.  He would join them there, make sure that Leslie was aware of the new arrangements and turn the night into a masterstroke of discipline. It was all a part of the life he wanted to show Carmen. He’d seen Leslie shooting looks raw hate at her supposed rival the other night. If looks could kill, Jason would be dammed lonely right now?. There was no rivalry, she hadn't been what he was searching for and he’d told her that. Transferring her unseemly anger from him to Carmen was just showing her disrespect for his decisions. A large part of why he’d decided she wasn't worthy. That kind of shit had to be stopped immediately, it could ruin a good club, all of the masters, and this included the one Mistress currently a member of the club, were of a like mind on that. They would take steps. Mistress Sable, as she insisted on being called for reasons of her own, was actually the loudest proponent of a “Good fucking caning” for the haughty Leslie. Mistress Sable didn't like her at all and made no secret of that. She came from somewhere down south, had a lovely figure and the sort of slow drawl that made any man wish she were a submissive, but he’d seen her punish Joe one night, that was enough to make him realize he never ever wanted to come under her whip.  Aside from that, she was one of the most genteel and well-spoken women he knew. Leslie had earned what she would receive. Some women just didn't submit well, that was why they needed lessons like this. Why they needed men like him, he supposed.  His eyes flicked to the inboard clock and he frowned, he would be-  The crash was terrible, loud and seemed to go on forever as Jason gripped the wheel hard, trying to regain control after the family van smacked into him from behind, the car was shuddering and a large tractor-trailer was coming fast.  He never noticed much past the airbag’s deployment; the heavy car was actually lucky, being knocked back from the truck and shoved off of the highway to roll down the gentle incline to the right rather than being mangled beneath the wheels of the heavy semi.  It had landed with its tires up and spinning, no fire had broken out, quality pays off in the end. Everyone agreed, from the horrified driver of the van who swore he’d only looked away for a moment to make sure the boy was all right to the cop who had found Jason Brock alive, bruised, bloody and unconscious, it could have been worse. Tragic as hell and damn I hope the guy is alright, but it could have been a lot worse.  From what the emergency medical techs could say, his head had slammed into the side post of the door frame before the side airbags could inflate, the injury had broken the bone of the skull and they told the police officer who noted such things that it was ”Fifty-fifty, seen it go either way“. Which got a nod, the cop had seen too many accidents himself to not think the same thing, but their saying it made it official and it went into his log like that.  “We could have had a pile up” was what the youngest officer on the scene kept saying to any one who would listen as the ambulance hurried away.  The driver of the Cadillac was comatose and a check of his wallet identity showed no immediate family in the state but the company he worked for had been informed.  The union people would wait awhile; leaving to go back to their lives after a hurried telephone call from corporation headquarters mollified their impatience.  That was a bad deal, car accident, too damned bad.  .  A bad deal all around they said.  It seemed as though everyone was saying that, all day long; a bad deal all around.  Everything about Carmen seemed to focus down to the doorway that was opening before as she pushed the bedroom back on quiet hinges.  Nothing seemed mussed up or out of place, and her first thought of a break-in seemed to be wrong, then she saw her bed and gasped low in surprise and embarrassment.  Melissa was lying on her bed, naked and propped up by the fluffy pillows Carmen liked, sliding a dildo slowly up and down the obviously wet slit of her pussy. “Melissa!“ The obvious shock in Carmen’s face brought a smile to Melissa’s face as she patted the mattress beside her naked thigh.  “What Cara, I know what I like and I know you liked it too, don’t you want to return the favor? Don’t I look pretty, shaven and horny?” The matter of fact statements made Carmen’s face flush in a hot crimson rouge as she tossed the phone onto the mirrored and polished bureau she had just had to have. Carmen walked quickly to the bed where her, admittedly, sexy girlfriend was starting to push the dildo into her body. She was gasping and giggling slightly from between pouty lips as it’s width opened her pussy in a slow attack that somehow fascinated Carmen.  “Stop that” Mel, I was hoping- I was hoping that between you and I things would remain normal. Can we have that Melissa?” Carmen’s voice sounded plaintive and that wasn't what she’d wanted it to sound like. Melissa only smiled and grabbed Carmen’s hand in a hard grip, speaking low and husky, obviously turned on by the situation. Well Carmen had no desire to take this any further than it had already gone. She decided to demand her key bck when she really heard what Mel was saying. “No, nothing will ever be the same again Cara, and really, you don’t want it to.” She paused and that wide smile was brilliant as it spread across her face. “You glow nowadays girl.”  Carmen breath caught in her throat as a hard hand grabbed her from behind. A male hand, she could see that much in her struggle, was forcing a round object into her mouth, she screamed against it, Melissa had leaned forward and was holding her arms tightly, murmuring some shit about how everything was going to be okay.  She thrashed though, god-DAMN-it, she’d had enough of this fucking shit, but despite her thrashing and kicking she couldn't get free. She was sure she’d kicked Melissa hard in the ribs as she fought and wasn't the least bit sorry.  Fuck, how could she trust her twice, screw me once, shame on you screw me twice shame on me and Carmen tried to wail past the ball that was hurting her jaws as the light of the afternoon was taken from her.  They must have put a hood over her head; surprisingly gentle fingers were lacing the thing round her throat and a male voice whispered quietly into her ear.  “Shhh, no one is going to hurt you Miss Carmen, we have orders on that. Shhh now, be nice so I don’t have to handcuff you.  She knew that voice, it was the gentle giant of the club who was holding her tightly now, preventing her from hurting anyone, not even herself. The vision of him staring adoringly into another woman’s face flashed through her mind and Carmen did calm a bit. Someone, probably Mel, kissed the top of her head through the heavy cloth and talked in calm tones to her until Joe finally let her go.  “It’s not what you think baby, not at all, no one is going to hurt you. It‘ll be fun, I know what Jason has planned and you’ll like it this time Cara. Shhh. calm down now baby…”  Jason had planned this? Anger bloomed in her gut and tried to mix with the sudden flutter of butterflies that were zooming around in her belly at the thought of him. He’d thought of her! The two things in one spot didn't mix well and Carmen was left feeling queasy, if anything, more than a little afraid and not willing to push Joe into handcuffing her.  Fuck, what did she do? Could you really take someone out of their apartment in this day and age, during full daylight, and not get stopped?  Thinking on the city in which they lived, she suddenly realized, yes, you could.  And they did, things were quickly cleaned up, she could hear them as they moved about, Mel dressing apparently and Joe doing- whatever he was doing, Carmen couldn't tell from the sounds alone. Maybe he was straightening things up, some part of her realized it was a silly thing to be worrying about when people had you hooded and gagged. Then she was being helped out of her home, into the hallway and then into the elevator.  It came as quite a surprise to her, how helpless she was. It scared her and made her timid in her movements.  Joe’s hand and Mel’s were on her arms above each elbow and she was grateful for that.  She would surely have injured herself save for their guidance. Nevertheless, if it hadn't been for them, for Jason and his crazy desires, she would not be in need of that help- Carmen did not like feeling timid. It was foreign to her and made her even angrier.  She would be enjoying her Pastrami and rye before the evening news most likely. She would have been well fed and content to think dirty little thoughts of Antonio and Jason and would have went to sleep wondering when Jason would call.  Motherfuckers! They must have had a car waiting, because she was sitting before she was much more than aware of the warmer outside air. A hand, Joe’s from the size of it, had made sure she didn't bump her head as she entered the vehicle. The smell, it was clean and full, reeked of rich leather and newness, It didn't smell like a taxi in this city smelled. Those were always a mixture of pollution and cigarettes, cheap booze and working people. Aromas from everywhere around the metropolis seemed to hang in any cab she had ever taken.  They had left her hands free but the sound of power door locks made her realize just how little that meant to her at the moment. It made her feel better though, on some gut level where instinct resided, at least she could feel free.  The drive wasn't long and she was very certain of the destination when the door opened.  She was helped out into warm air again, hustled in through one door, the clicking of heels on polished marble floors was loud. Carmen felt a wind in her face as another door opened, allowing them into what, she was certain, must be the ballroom.  .  They stopped there and a voice that was almost familiar demanded answer’s.  “Who brings an initiate to be tested? Who stands for this woman’s worth?”  Carmen almost broke into a hysterical sort of laughter, in the absence of sight her mind was doing all kinds of weird things, had painted an old fashioned Judges wig onto a powdered and pasty face that would have been normal a couple of centuries back. Mel’s voice answered back, soothing and low, boasting a meekness that hadn't been present back at Carmen’s apartment. “I, Melissa Roth, bring this initiate to be considered, master.” That shocked her and Carmen was still taking that fact in when a male voice rumbled beside her shoulder. “I, Joe Knecht, bring this initiate to be considered, master.”  Another voice answered them from the front.  It was a slow and easy drawl that had more to do with the bayou than the area around here. That convinced her it must be Mistress Sable. “Is there no master to speak for this woman? How can she enter if no Master will vouch for her?” With no pause, an answer to that was given. All of it felt rehearsed and was being done with an easy familiarity that said this was nothing new. It felt like a well known stage production, that comforted her for reasons she couldn't articulate.  “Jason Brock has had her brought here, Mistress.“ Joe seemed to be taking the lead, Carmen could almost see the smile in his voice despite the solemnity they were all wrapped in.  It was a ritual, then, and one that they had observed in the past if their surety and ease of interaction let her be any sort of judge.  She hated this, and at the same time, she felt thrilled- scared and angry and timid and-  Fuck!  She was NOT timid goddamn it!  Carmen the psychologist was tangentially shocked at how much information she didn't have once her sight had been stolen. A thousand cues that could have made her feel more able to deal with the situation were missing and she wanted to just…  Slide down into a heap on the floor and go to sleep.  Her brain wanted to shut off this new thing, was not at all comfortable with where events were taking her.  There was whispering and another door opened to the fore, Joe’s hand, or someone’s hand, touched the small of her back, urging her forward as the woman’s voice affirmed the movements validity.  “Enter then, and be considered, the other is already waiting- come.”  She walked in tiny steps, needing the guiding hands she felt on her arms. “Be careful now, there are stairs, easy down. And step, now.” It was Joe, she felt certain Mel was just ahead of her and a thought flashed across her mind as she negotiated the stairs down into what she now knew was the club’s playroom.  The “Other” was already there, she’d been told. Now who could that be, she wondered? Or what, perhaps it was an other object? She’d just decided that she would find out soon enough when the hood was taken from her head. Light flared and she had to squint, her eyes going immediately to Leslie Hastings where she knelt on pretty knees. She wore nothing but lingerie and both hands tied tightly, almost cruelly behind her back.  They shared the same sort of gag, but the black cord that wrapped from above her elbows to her wrists, raising the flesh in small triangles of almost bruised flesh was shocking to see, it looked painful as hell. She looked pissed off- seriously pissed off. Leslie had been kidnapped as well, that was obvious, but that wasn't what had angered her, Carmen was certain of that. No, it was Carmen’s presence and the woman was fairly writhing in anger. Carmen chuckled a little, the bitch looked fit to be tied. Carmen didn't like it, but she felt a very warm, smug feeling at seeing what was obviously the worst sort of little bitch on her knees and bound up, trussed up like a turkey and sparks spitting from her pretty eyes.  That she was pretty was obvious, that she knew it was even more so.  Bitch.  The door above them closed and Mistress Sable came gliding easily down the stairs, walking beside a master, a man she only knew of as Master Sam.  Sam Turnbull, as she would later learn, was the club’s fire to Jason’s ice.  His eyes made her shudder and turn away, seeking out Mel’s encouraging smile where she knelt, naked again, beside Thomas Aquinos. The man was nodding, talking to another Master whose identity was an unknown to Carmen, and looking as though he were expecting to start at any moment.  “Unbind their mouths, they must be able to speak.” That was from Master Sam and Joe unbound her, just as another male, one with a collar around his neck, unbound Leslie’s mouth.  “What the fuck is she doing here, Jason is mine!” Leslie was panting and livid in her rage as the man behind her moved, slapping her hard across the face at a nod from Mistress Sable.  “Shut up initiate, that’s for a master to decide, not you.”  The slap had left finger marks on the cheek, but the eyes glowed despite tears of pain that gathered in the corners.  Carmen was pushed to her knees and Joe’s hands began removing her clothing.  She wasn't asked and wondered suddenly, desperately, where Jason was? All this shit might be bearable if he were near. She found herself wanting him to walk through the door, wishing it with a fervor she wouldn't have credited even two weeks ago.  Soon, her flesh was goose-pimpling and she shivered before them as handcuffs were place around her wrists. The steel was cold. cold on her body and cold in her soul as the implications of what was happening spread through her.  It must be a part of the ritual, those hands were actually careful. The treatment of Carmen was much nicer than that Leslie enjoyed.  She was being lectured by Mistress Sable, how incongruous the name, the blond Lady walked slowly around the kneeling slave, circling her like a hawk about to stoop on a mouse as she tapped a stiff switch into her palm. Carmen could only catch snatches of what she was saying, but if “I’ll peel the hide off slowly if you speak without permission again…” was any indication, or the sudden look of fear in Leslie’s eyes as the switch was moved to trace the outline of her lips was any clue- the haughty cunt was deathly afraid of the blond mistress.  Carmen was sure she would be as well. It seemed the initiation was about to begin.  The two doctors were busily scrubbing up after the emergency surgery they had just performed, working soap into the skin of arms and fingers in an attempt to remove the blood, sometimes it even worked. Shutting off the water with his hands, the first doctor, spoke in a mildly curious tone of voice. He was a bit older than the other but carried the same air of harried busy-ness on his face that emergency room doctor’s all seemed to have.  “Think he’ll, make it?” The other mimicked the first action, stopping the flow of water with his hands, neither had an operation planned and either would scrub again before beginning another. For the moment, it was time for dinner and then back to the emergency ward to wait for the next gunshot or accident casualty. “Yeah, he should now that we’ve relieved the pressure on his brain, nasty blow to the head he took though.”  Neither talked about the chances of a coma lasting long past the wounds had healed, both had seen too many wonderfully tuned bodies slowly waste into shadows of what they’d been. You did what you could and you hoped; that was about as far as it went.  Damned traffic accidents anyway, went through both of their heads for probably the millionth time and then they moved on to other patients and other crises, no rest for the wicked was a small joke among the staff of Metropolitan General Hospital.  A nurse looked in on Mr. Brock regularly, he had a private room with a view that he couldn't enjoy. The chest was rising and falling normally as she monitored his temperature, cast a practiced look over the body, looking for signs of infection or discomfort.  Nancy Weatherall hated coma patients, they made your soul ache so badly that you got drunk on your day off while trying to not think about them.  Sometimes it even worked, for a little while, not always though.  Coma patients and the little kids ward, both were bad but this was the easier of two difficult stations. Nancy had found herself getting drunk too often, when she had worked the kid’s ward, this was better and she was glad she’d asked for the transfer.  Moving back into the gleaming corridor, Nancy went to the next patient, she was a good nurse and conscientious as all hell, but she sometimes thought that she might leave the profession; it was hard to see people like this.  **Let us leave Jason there, oblivious to his pain and dreaming whatever dreams walked through his head.  The sun is falling as we look into the Dog Kennel Club, not far away as the pigeon flies, and the atmosphere was anything but clinical.**  Joe Knecht loved to watch his Mistress discipline a recalcitrant slave, the way she moved, the way she seemed to mean everything she said fascinated him.  He almost laughed at that thought as he removed Carmen’s clothing, the woman had stopped struggling, completely, watching that stupid bitch Leslie get a reminder of the solemnity of the occasion.  He stifled the chuckle because he knew that the Mistress, his mistress, meant what she said. She did as she promised to do, too. His back had held the brilliant and painful proof of that too many times for him to ever doubt her when she spoke.  Leslie would learn that as well, the only reason she hadn't been booted out of the Club was that she was a passably good fuck, and some of the Master’s liked the way her big mouth gave them a reason to beat her.  She was a masochist, and loved to feel pain, but there was something wild about Mistress Sable that just let you know- the woman could be pushed too far, and would enjoy going there.  A person with their arms tied behind their back, masochist or not, did well to realize that, and that quickly!  “What have I gotten into, what the fuck am I doing here?“  Carmen was whispering to herself and that was normal.  Joe had been hired to keep the peace in the club; Mistress Sable had come later, after he had found the situations and interactions of these people too fascinating to back away from.  A one-time boxer, Joe was the last person that would ever have believed a tiny woman with blonde hair could ever control him.  He would have wagered it couldn't happen even if you overpowered him and tied him down. Joe would have laughed if you had voiced the thought that he could be controlled by a word, a look, the snap of feminine fingers.  Nevertheless, it was so, and after a long time of competition between them, he had become a part of the family here, kneeling and laying his big head in the soft lap of Mistress Sable.  “Shhh, Carmen, I’m on your side, but don’t speak, okay?” He stole a look at the little podium where the master’s were starting to take their seats, no one had heard and Joe found himself letting out a soft sigh of relief as he turned his head back to Carmen.  “Initiates are not supposed to speak unless spoken to. If it gets too much, just say the word “bluebird“ that ‘s a safe word and they have to honor it Carmen. That stops everything immediately“  He did like the woman, it wasn't only that she was pretty, any woman master Jason picked was that, she had a ready smile, and there was fire in her belly.  Joe had little doubt that Master Jason would tame her, but he didn't expect it to be easy.  Easy was boring, Joe decided that Carmen Preis’ initiation would be anything but boring.  Leslie was white in the face and silent as Mistress Sable took her seat between Master Sam and the doctor-  Doc Gentry loved the pomp and circumstance of an initiation and took the time to attend nearly all of them.  Celina, his wife of many years stood behind his chair, Joe knew the why of that but it must be making Carmen wonder.  Most slaves didn't stand in this place unless ordered to.  Melissa had taken a position behind Leslie, actually grinning as she wreathed a small fist into the kneeling woman’s hair. Her task, as Mrs. Gentry’s would be, was to make sure the initiate remained focused on the words of the judges.  Leslie rolled her eyes to Melissa’s harder ones and blanched again. The two were about like oil and water, but then, no one got along with Leslie.  Joe wondered sometimes why the silly thing kept trying. Joe stepped back as Celina took the same position by Carmen that Melissa had taken.  His function was concluded now that the good Doctor’s wife had taken over and Joe went to kneel quietly beside a wall.  His cock was hard, how else considering all the bound flesh that was highlighted by brilliant and tightly irised lights in the center of the room.  There were only the required members needed for the judging and witnessing of the event.  Master’s judged and a group of five slaves witnessed any new initiation.  The slaves could even ask for a new judgment if they thought it a grave enough issue.  A thing the Doctor had considered important but which had never yet been necessary.  He stopped his train of thought with the simple and fervent desire that his Mistress would allow him to relieve the strain on his cock after this was over, then watched early as Celina and Melissa turned the two initiate’s heads to the side, so that they were facing the stage.  Thomas and Master Heller, a master who stood out with a shock of the most brilliantly orange hair and the brightest blue eyes Joe had ever seen, sat mum to the right of the room.  By custom, they would not speak until the voting took place.  “We ask again-“ Master Sam’s voice rang out harsh in the quiet, the only sounds to be heard were those of breathing and the lower buzz of the ventilation system that kept the air fresh down here.  “We ask again, are these two women worthy to be inducted into our good club? Who will speak for them?  His eyes were moving between Celina and Melissa, both of whom knew what to do. Celina made a small nod to Melissa that indicated she should go ahead.  “I will vouch for this woman, Leslie, I have seen her kneel before a Master and judge her able to learn”  Melissa’s face was fixed and Joe was certain it took all of her self control to keep from spitting in disgust.  The relationship between Leslie and Melissa was of the hair puling, tit-kicking sort, Joe’d had to get between the two more than once over the last months.  “I will vouch for this woman Master, I have not seen her kneel before any master, but I do judge her to be able to learn.” Celina’s sweet contralto voice carried across the small distance, she smiled and dipped her eyes.  Joe almost grinned at that, the Doctor was a GOOD trainer, and Celina was one of the meekest of submissives in the club.  She was also one of the most sought out when the play started, lush with the curves that only a bit of maturity could bring, she never, ever sat alone, no matter how many pretty young ones were left at a table wishing for the touch of a horny master. “Are you SURE?“ The emphasis in the Doctor’s voice could not be ignored, despite his easy seeming ways, the man took this seriously, was indeed leaning forward and studying both of the naked women “Yes” “Yes“ Both affirmatives rang out as one and the proceedings began in earnest.  Mistress Sable was leaning forward, speaking quietly even as she let one pretty leg slide forward, She was teasing Joe and he knew it, but it was only a fraction of her attention. Most of that was focused on Leslie’s face.  “Are they obedient? I detest a submissive that isn't obedient.”  “I am not a-  I am not a goddamned submissive” Carmen was indignant, but her protestations were cut off by a cruel yank of her hair by Celina, a hard pull that was meant to remind her to be silent. Celina did not appreciate a submissive that was what she called “Uppity”  “They will be Mistress, they require a firm hand.” Mistress Sable was nodding as Celina spoke, taking a long moment to consider Carmen before speaking again.  “It seems to me that both of them have a big mouth, punish them!” She sat back and tossed the thin switch that Joe knew she loved at Celina’s feet, where it lay like some ominous snake in the bright light.  That had certainly drawn both of the initiates eyes, if they stared at that bit of wood any harder, the thing would wilt.  “Two stripes to the back of both of their thighs, if the stripes are not correctly applied the assistants will share them as well.”  God, Joe loved her voice and only watched as Celina bent quickly, taking up the switch and moving to Carmen’s side, her fist never once leaving the pretty woman’s face.  ” NO! nonnonono you can’t-” Carmen and Leslie were both pulled into a high kneel by their minders fists wrapped in hair.  Swisssssshhhhhh- Whapp Swisssshhhh.whaaaap   “Ow ow ow goddammit it you can’t do- do this!”  Carmen was writhing, trying to stand up as the flesh of her legs welted immediately, trying to avoid any other blows and wailing like a small child being punished.  Celina must have believed the Mistress and tears were already streaming down Carmen’s pained face.  Joe could sympathize, that kind of switching hurt like three kinds of hell.  Celina was just moving to hand the switch to Melissa when the cell phone at Thomas hip went off.  He had to carry it, a part of his work life and the only reason he’d made the allowance today was that Joe was down here rather than upstairs where he could take incoming calls.  The beeping, sounding foreign and strange in the basement, was answered immediately, Thomas spoke in a low voice as the Masters, and Mistress Sable watched, various stages of disapproval and tolerance on their faces.  Leslie was watching Carmen, watching the switch, watching Melissa and trying already to shield her thighs from what she knew was coming despite the fact that Celina had stopped before handing the switch to Melissa.  “Unbind them.” Thomas had stood and was moving to Carmen, he quickly undid her cuffs as he talked.  “I’m sorry Carmen, Jason has been in a bad accident, he’s in a coma at he Metro hospital. I’m going there immediately.” Joe felt that sudden shock that people always feel when someone you are friendly with is hurt, the news went across the pool of people like ice and no one was watching as Carmen sprang to her feet.  “Jason…”  Joe started to get up as Carmen ripped the switch from Celina’s hand and literally pounced on Leslie, she was crying and screaming,  “You bitch, you bitch oh god you bitch.”  Joe had to hurry, Leslie’s arms were still bound and the cruel switch was falling everywhere, undirected and wielded with all the hurt and anger and fear the woman was feeling.  He got is arms around her but not before Leslie had fallen to her side, scrambling and kicking in pain, trying to get the fuck away from the madwoman as the switch kept tearing her translucent flesh.  “Fuck Carmen stop it, STOP it NOW.”  Melissa was there too and someone, Mistress Sable, had thought to open the door at the top of the stairs.  Joe had Carmen, Fuck, damn, fuck Leslie looked bad, sobbing in pain on the floor as Joe physically held the other woman.  The switch had taken her across the face; the back and her breasts were marked in livid welts that would only grow puffier with time. Joe knew that from experience as well. She was groaning and moaning in agony as Master Sam knelt to unbind her. He was talking in low tones that only she could hear even as the good doctor came off of the raised stage to ask after Jason, casting a glance at Carmen where she cried in frustration into Joe’s big chest.  “Get her cleaned up and make sure she and Melissa are taken to the Hospital Joe, I'll attend to Leslie.”  That was all the silver haired man had time for, Celina was moving to meet her husband and Joe was turning to do as he was told, it made sense, things the Doc said usually did.  Carmen had gone numb it seemed, her face was wooden and she only nodded at the things Melissa was whispering into her ear as they ascended the stairs and paused to dress.  Joe had shucked into his clothes hurriedly and was already waiting in the large car that the club owned as Carmen and Melissa came out onto the street.  All anger had left the pretty woman’s face; Joe looked hard trying to see anything there but grief.  No, she was deep in it and the one time boxer found himself hoping for her sake that Jason was going to be all right  He let them get in and the engaged the transmission as soon as he heard the door close behind them.  They had to get to the hospital, Joe hurried.  He hurried, pulling right up the big front doors of the hospital and telling them to go ahead, he would be along shortly.  They were family now, and that meant Joe Knecht would take care of them  He parked the car, locked it and went in search of a patient named Brock, Jason A.  The cab stopped and two women stepped quickly out of it, putting their feet down onto Park Avenue and hurriedly paying the cabbie so he could get back to work. Taxi drivers were always edgy, wanting to get back into the stream of traffic and make money.  Their reason for existence and the same reason that had lured Mary Harst and Tory Dewiler to this part of town, there had been an ad in the paper, a private club with a supposedly world class kitchen and exclusive membership was hiring experienced wait staff.  The pay was extraordinary, almost unbelievable, and both girls had talked it over after their last shift at the “The dirty Seven”. The “Seven” was the bar they ran their asses off in every night and was so goddamned average/dirty that it barely earned the name of dive.  It seemed as though there were a million such establishments in this city.  Well, judging by the pricey cars and the location, heavy oak doors and an air of affluence that hit a person full in the nose as soon as they breathed, this was no dive.  Mary developed nervous butterflies in her belly, smiling at Tory before stepping boldly up to the big doors. Tory was smiling as well but it sure looked as though the same thoughts were going through her head as were plaguing Mary’s mind.  Why would a place like this hire them?  “Are you ready?” Tory nodded and reached impulsively forward to push a golden button that had been inset into a slab of marble, which somehow just screamed out the fact that it cost a lot of money. “I bet their checks don’t bounce!” Mary and Tory both giggled at that, it was the real reason they were here, anything was worth a chance if it took them out of the Seven.  Tory had told Mary that the landlord had only “Just” been restrained from tossing her out after their checks had gone rubber. The little blonde-haired woman was forced to show the guy the bad check and make a written promise of payment. The „Just” meant she’d had to suck the oily bastard off as well, Mary could sympathize, her landlord was an old lady, but she was near to being tossed out on her ear as well. Luckily enough, tips had been a bit better.  They could both eat at least.  That was the problem with the Seven; Darryl was his own best customer and loved to spend money. The dirty bastard could have at least warned them of the problem, the spineless fuck!  “Geezus, look at that.“ A man in a white jacket, bow tie and nicely tailored slacks could be seen through the old glass of the door, clicking across the marble floor of what had to be the lobby Tory was swallowing hard as the man reached the doorway, whispering to Mary just before it opened.  “He looks like a penguin, I don’t think we fit in here Mabel…“  The tiny joke was a measure of her nervousness, usually the lady kept her co-workers laughing; she made the work bearable with her snide sarcasm that cast everything into a better light.  What you could laugh at you could deal with better. Now she was nervous, they both were putting a lot of hope into getting this job.  …Apply directly to  Mr. Knecht  The ad had said, and they had read it a good six or seven times while looking for the catch. They had decided to come here yesterday evening on an impulse, changing into what Darryl laughingly called a “Uniform” while discussing the ad Tory had brought to work with her. Dress conservative and talk up the restaurant experience they both had, that was the final plan. It didn't seem to be all that great of a plan any more; the cold light of morning and reason was hitting Mary full in the face. Sure, the tips were better in a bar, but most waitresses started in a truck stop or better, at least.  Mary certainly had, having been recruited from a family diner to start at a busy bar one night after the bar’s owner had noticed and admired her tits.  He’d been a pretty good boss too, but the work was different from diner work and this looked like it would be as well.  She almost turned to go as she realized just how different, an exclusive membership of dog lovers or some shit, it was bizarre, what the rich found to do with their money, but the door was opening and a pleasant voice was talking to them, well, to Tory anyway, Mary had been caught day dreaming.  There was no going back now.  “How can I help you?” He was watching Tory, you had to speak to one or the other and there were many men who liked to talk to the curvy woman with the shoulder length blond hair. Her tip jar reflected that well enough.  Mary didn’t mind, she had offers enough, her girlfriend not only was a pretty woman, she was competent as hell, even when nervous, it was good to let her do the talking.  “We wanted to speak with a Mr. Knecht, it’s about the open positions as wait-staff?”  The man nodded and opened the door further.  “Yes, please come in, it is not the best day for this, but Mr. Knecht is here.”  He let the women into the glamorous expanse of the lobby and then shut the door firmly behind them, blocking off any noise from the street. “Please, follow me“ Mary and Tory looked at each other and both grinned in silent relief, stepping out hurriedly to follow the man. Now all of their heels were clicking and Mary was glad when they moved past a beautiful bar and onto the carpeted portion of the club. The bar was of the sort that you just didn't see anymore, handcrafted a long time ago and built to convey the ease of wealth and comfort of person. The man turned right, taking a smaller hallway instead of following the “L” of the lobby to what must have been the main portion of the huge place, they went by a stair that could only be called grand and ended up in a very modern looking hallway that had obviously once been lined with hotel rooms. They were offices now, at least one of them was. The waiter, butler, or whatever the hell he was, asked them to please wait as he knocked on a white door with gilding and a brass knob.  “Can you imagine working here? Damn, this place must be huge.” Tory was nodding, looking at the oil paintings, which lined the bright hallway as Mary’s low whisper reached her. Further, down the hall, you could hear the sounds of what had to be a pretty large kitchen if Mary was any judge, but she had to admit, she had no idea of the layout of this place.  “I think this was one of the better hotels once, funny that you never hear about it.” Maybe it was and maybe it wasn't funny, in a city of this size, there were bound to be hundreds of old buildings that were going to waste. They were the sad victims of urban sprawl.  Mary was just glad to have made it past the front door, the wage mentioned and benefits had instilled a sense of urgency in the both of them. That was what had prompted them to get out of bed so early, It was only now a little after nine and Mary was feeling the lack of sleep. A job offering what the ad was offering either was too good to be true or would be swamped with applicants.  They had closed the bar at two A.M. and cleanup always took an hour. The fatigue mixed with excitement almost made Mary feel buzzed. Tory jumped a little as the door opened, a deeper voice breaking the heavy stillness as the first man left, nodding as he walked by them, back to his duties.  Whatever they were.  “Please, come in, I’m Joe“ The man nodded hello, looking as tired as Mary felt when he stood up from what was obviously his desk, shaking each of their hands.  He was a pleasant man, and this was a pleasant office, with a window, a humming pc and papers stacked here and there in an orderly fashion. It was not at all like the filthy little hole that Darryl used to order booze and count the night’s receipts before blowing them on coke and women.  Fuck she was tired! Mary snapped out of it, realizing that Tory was already answering the man’s first question. “No, we don’t mind, we can interview together if it will save you time Mr. Knecht. Isn’t that right Mary?” Tory and Mr. Knecht both looked at her and Mary was forced to throw the big man an award-winning smile to make up for the lapse of attention.  “Oh, yes, I’m fine with that.”  He asked after their shift preference and explained that the club didn't pay an hourly wage. The staff all received a salary and hours were carefully controlled to keep things fair. They were guaranteed two days of their choosing free per week, back to back or split as they liked, and were asked if they minded being called in on short notice and to tell him a bit about themselves. Tory was nodding, Mary watched her start talking too fast as she tried to make her limited experience in food service seem more than what it was.  The blond-haired woman was talking almost non-stop, actually, and Mary wouldn't blame her for it. They both wanted to do a lot better than they were and this sounded like a step in the right direction. Salary, guaranteed salary and days off you could count on! Her hearing snapped on again. “No, no children and I can work any hours Mr. Knecht, an employee should be there for their employer I think.” Tory ran down and suddenly the big man was addressing Mary. “Do you think that as well? Miss?”  Oh hell, it was her turn and the friendly eyes were looking at her, not at her tits but at her eyes. That was disconcerting enough, the fact that she could see the simple curiosity behind them was even worse. Her tits had gotten her more than one job, even if she didn't let just any Tom, Dick, or Harry touch them.  “Harst, Mary Harst, it's nice to meet you Mr. Knecht“ He simply nodded, sat back in his leather chair and made a steeple of the thick fingers before his chin, listening.  “I don’t have any children Mr. Knecht, I’m flexible.” Mary frowned then went on, it was a part of her nature, she hated to bullshit around any subject. With a sinking feeling in her heart, she heard her mouth saying things that probably should not be said if she wanted this job.  “Mr. Knecht, I ‘m going to be honest with you, because this place makes me feel uncomfortable and I would like to feel comfortable in a place like this. I wait tables in a very busy bar and my last paycheck bounced. I work my butt off and so does Tory, we take the bruises on our butts and the alcohol smelling leers all night, every night, because it pays the bills, or did. It doesn’t even do that anymore. I haven’t served in a restaurant for at least seven years-“  Mary shook her long red hair in a gesture of irritation, she hated explaining the obvious, but knew she had to, it was necessary, she reminded herself the man across the desk from her didn't know any of this, had never seen her work.  “But I can learn and I am one dedicated employee to a boss that treats me right.” She looked down into her lap where her hands were balled into little fists, the man had an unreadable look on his face and she was sure she’d blown it for the both of them. He sat up in the chair, and Mary almost smiled as she saw Tory nodding in time to her last sentiment. Well, at least that stupid part of her that made such things happen felt better.  Fuck.  “Good, we don’t have time here for anyone who isn’t honest. We have to retrain ALL of our new staff, every one- that included me when I signed on here. The club’s members are a bit eccentric and demand a lot of care and your utter discretion.” He stood up from the desk and invited them both to join him on the way out of his office door. Your, he had said “Your discretion”, as though he included her or them or whatever, hope began to rise again as Joe Knecht continued talking.  “Let me show you around the place, there are few things you should know about the Dog Kennel Club. If the money is good for you and you’re not scared off by the coming tour-“  She slid past a heavily muscled arm as it held the door open for them both, Tory was grinning and Mary was shocked speechless. Did the guy always make his mind up so fast? How eccentric could you get with DOGS for chrissake, this was suddenly moving fast, very fast.  “Then you’re hired. Let’s look at the kitchen, meet the head cook and then I’ll show you the member’s areas, come on ladies.”  He was the perfect gentleman and Mary found herself liking the big man in a friendly way, Tory squeezed her fingers, a salary, go figure, a goddamn salary.  Go figure! Across town in the hospital where Jason lay, the room was humming with the whirring and peeping of machinery. The room would be silent save for all of the various machines attached to the sleeping patient. Well, he seemed to be sleeping anyway, but anyone working on this floor knew better.  Jolene was a part of the hospital housekeeping staff and always hurried through this ward. It was always so spooky, as though the people wee dead but not aware of it yet. She hated the itchy feel this ward left on her spine.  Changing out the wastebaskets, she wondered what had happened to this one, he was good looking and the middle-aged woman thought that it was terrible for such a man to be lying there that way.  She looked at the charts sometimes, a nurse friend had told her some of what she was seeing, but she stopped that, the idle curiosity could cost her the job she needed and besides, she always felt as though she were eavesdropping, peeking in where she shouldn’t.  “Jesus...”  He had moved, his arm had moved and after long enough on this ward she should know better than to let that surprise her, a friendly doctor had taken the time to explain it to her way beck when, just because the mind is taking a walk elsewhere does not mean the body lays there stiff and immobile.  They turned or thrashed, sometimes, and some even groaned, though she had never yet seen one wake up from a coma.  Really, she had come to believe they didn't, not ever.  Living corpses.  “Get a hold of yourself Jo and do your work“ She bent to straighten the unused cart beside the patients head when he moved again, the dust cloth in Jolene’s hand stooped dead, dead still and a thrill ran through her chest that threatened to make her heart stop.  “Please, my head hurts and I am…  Thirsty-”  Jolene could move fast when she needed to, the sudden flood of fear induced adrenaline lent her speed and she got the hell out of that room, running straight into Gillian Miles, the ward's head nurse. “Shit Gillian, he talked, the guy in 412 B just talked, he said his head hurt”  Gillian looked at her for the longest moment, seeming to switch gears before nodding and walking quickly into the room where Brock, Jason A. was slowly trying to move his hands, feebly attempting to control his weakened limbs.  Soon Jolene watched as doctors converged on the door. Well, goddamn it, Jolene smiled and walked back to the elevators with a new spring in her step, she was going to take a smoke break to calm her nerves, the receiving area was the place for that, outside by the trees where the delivery trucks came and went. No one ever bothered you there.  Goddamn. Sometimes they did wake up.  Imagine that. She went for her cigarette with a smile on face. How cool was that? Melissa opened her eyes briefly, looking at the digital display of her clock as Thomas, the man she had accepted as her lover, master, a host of things, stumbled to the bathroom to take an early morning piss.  Four fifteen Am. and it must have been all of the coffee he had asked for last night that moved him now.  His best friend Jason was awake, irascible as hell and making the lives of nurses over in t the Metro hospital miserable on a continual basis.  That had put master into an expansive mood and Melissa giggled slightly at the sound of the flush. Snuggling back into her pillow and the warm blankets to get at least another hour of sleep before the day started, they had played at home last night, the accident had nearly emptied the club of members the last few days.  Damn, she was sore from his play, her thighs were bruised, as was her back; He had been in a very good mood.  He came back, and her eyes flew open, this time at the sudden snatch of her blankets from over her sleep warmed body.  “Tom, it’s cold!” She hissed at him, he was like that; he let her be how she was as long as he always ended up with what he wanted.  Well, damn near always.  “Be quiet Melissa, you won’t be cold for long.“ She knew that was true, he was crawling naked over he bed, the low light of pre-dawn showed that and then his hands were on her body, moving across her skin with no tentative touch or appeal.  Thomas was not one to ask his slut if she wanted to fuck, he just proceeded and that always left her breathless.  Like a big kid with a new toy, that was how he was, and she had secretly sworn to do whatever it took to remain his favorite toy.  He was hard, she could feel it in the dark, The big hands were all over her back and tits, lightly pinching her nipples and crushing her pale breasts in his grip even as he turned her more fully onto her belly.  “Baby, I need to pee” ”No” Well, that was terse enough, his voice was husky and as dark as the shadowed room they were in. “Hold it”  He had morning breath, she did too, and Melissa almost gasped as he shoved the head of his penis hard up against her rubbery rectum, all of a sudden the breath did not matter.  Oh, damn.  “Tom, I’m not wet at all, please…lube me master?” She could ask, and she felt the tightening of his stomach muscles as she called him master, she knew he loved to hear that word from her. Sometimes it could even cause him to give her what she wanted, like a gracious man giving his pet lab an extra treat.  Not this time though, he was hard in his cock, hard in his body and even harder in his desire for her.  It was going to be one of those days and Melissa smiled a little despite the anticipation of pain, that was why she was with him. Melissa turned onto her belly and shoved her arms down alongside her pretty body, opening her buttocks with grasping fingers, she knew what he wanted.  “No, lube is for pussies.”  With that, he centered himself over her, his knees to the outside of her thighs even as his hands gripped her shoulders, then he pushed.  She tried, hard, doing all of the things a girl can do when she has to give in to the inevitable, tried to loosen that muscle to his dryness and maybe it helped, some.  He was breathing heavy and those teeth that could smile so white were carefully biting the upper curve of her neck as he pounded his cock against the tight and unprepared rectum to no avail, it was just too dry.  With a low growl of almost anger he changed tact, sliding his cock into her cunt in a long drive that made her bite her lower lip in a sudden spate of feelings and emotions.  “Oh yes. Isn’t that good baby, please, master leave it there for a little while“ Melissa was a slut and admitted it, not admitting that fact about herself had made here very unhappy once, until a friend had shown her the wisdom of accepting it.  She loved to be fucked, there was no other way to put it, and now she accepted that- He was not listening!  Damn it, his cock had left her pussy empty again, had been there long enough to become wet, gleaming and slick before he slid the thing up between her asscheeks, a slow and lascivious slide that was meant to increase her tension, she was sure of that.  It worked too, Tom made it a point to show her just how willing she was to please him, this was a part of that, she knew. She knew it, accepted it and deep inside herself Melissa loved it, he was what made her eyes light up.  Oh fuck, it was going this time. And his cock did invade her with a jerky back and forth plunge that did not stop until his balls slapped warm against her cunt, a heavy touch on the back of her thighs.  She screamed a bit, biting her lips as she thought of the neighbors sleeping one wall away, groaning at the thought that he'd never once tried to do any of the things that men’s magazines recommended a man do before fucking his woman’s asshole.  No digital foreplay with a trendy, colored lubricant to ease her mind, the tender kiss was a hard bite to her neck that she would have to cover with make-up to hide and going slow-  Going slow would not have given him any pleasure.  Melissa was breathing hard, her hands actually splayed and pushing up, ineffectual against his groin, trying to slow that aching, ripping plunge as he breathed a loud- “Yesss” Into the morning dark bedroom.  That word breathed into her mind as she quit trying to stop his advance, curling her hands into tight fists of pain.  Then she had to stop, his hips were rolling her up toward the headboard and somehow she was on her knees, the bed shaking and two sets of breath mingling as he slapped her ass hard.  On her knees and her shoulders were the contact points with the mattress as he rocked her back and forth.  “Oh baby, oh baby oh…yes”  Melissa was about to start babbling, she hated butt fucking but loved any kind of fucking better than no kind of fucking and she wondered idly as he slapped her again across what she knew was a pretty ass- could the neighbors hear?  They had given her dirty looks before this after a night of play, that made it all the more fun and maybe she timed her slam back into him just to encourage the bed to slam into the wall.  If it was gonna happen, you might as well enjoy it.  But fuck, it hurt  The ache was joined by his fingers on her cunt and Melissa almost felt like crying, it hurt her heart so much, he was going to let her cum, make her cum, with his touch.  What a man she had.  He was speeding up in her belly, the plunging getting shorter, less deep but faster, jerky as he bent over her back, the sounds of his hips meeting her continually jiggling asscheeks was a fast- Whap-whap-whap-whap- In the room that made a ready counterpoint to the creaking of the bed below them.  Fuck, how to describe it, he was everywhere and the whole of her world at the moment was two fingers curled into her sopping cunt, gripping her cruelly, separated from stroking his own penis as it swelled and slid in the canal of her ass by the thinnest bit of flesh.  "Oh lord-“  Her breath caught and Melissa swallowed hard, forcing out the plaintive question, hoping he would allow her this, wanting this.  “May I, Please baby, can I cum””  He laughed then, slowed and pulled his cock all the way from her ass. She knew it was still back there and the sudden lack of that spreading heat made her breath catch almost as much as the first invasion of it had.  “Say please Mel!” He would insist on that and there were times where she would make him beat her to get the “please” out of her mouth.  This was not one of them.  …please……please……please……please…  She was singing for him and then he was within her body once more, driving her head into the mattress so hard that she was forced to slam a fist into the headboard, it was either that or eat it, holding tight as he hunched over her.  He seemed a madman behind Melissa’s body, wild now as she continued to whimper at the abuse she was taking.  She would be sore for a long time after this, so what, who cares- "Cum Melissa, cum on, we know how much you like it, you- are- a little -  Whore-  Melis-sss-sa.”  He punctuated each word with a hard thrust of that bulbous headed length of flesh that made her feel so crazy. Suddenly, he was no longer talking; Melissa closed her eyes and felt him jerk a final time, pushing his thickness as far into her gut as it would go as cum began to flow into her gut.  His fingers had gone still, his body was an iron hard bundle of muscle held tense as a loud growl/groan ripped through the air.  Even the creaking had stopped.  Then her own belly filled with the flush feeling of heated sex, those fingers started up again on her sopping cunt and Melissa was coming, squealing into the pillow that was suddenly gripped tightly to stop her from screaming in purest release.  Pure fucking joy and even her thighs felt as if they were on fire.  Fuck, she had to piss!  But she was coming and he was moving within her again, lewd and slowly, forcing every last gobbet of hot sperm out of his testicles, his hand slapped Melissa’s ass over and over, so many times that she knew she would feel it for a few days coming; so what, who cares, she sure as hell didn’t!  The orgasm rolled over her gut, through the length of her spine and seemed to rest in her mind for seven eternities before her man, her master was falling back from her, rolling onto his back and running a hand gently over the skin of her shoulder.  “Go pee, you can clean me when you get back.  “Yes master.”  And wasn’t she suddenly the meek little slut, sitting up carefully, trying not to let cum run out of her asshole onto the sheets, not sure if she had been able to stop that and not too concerned about it.  The harsh light of the bathroom woke her up in a way that nothing else could, pissing seemed to take forever and the golden liquid was joined by the thick, ropy cum, remnants of his fucking, in the bowl before she flushed it all away.  Melissa dug out a washcloth, wetted it and went to him where he lay.  She stopped then, just looking at his face for a long moment as he lie there, quiet with one arm behind his head.  He was asleep already, like some sated lion he was stretched out and asleep.  She sat quietly beside him, gently washing her scent from his bally and cock, bending to playfully lick the tip of the shriveled penis before taking the wash cloth back to the sink and rinsing it out.  Melissa looked at the sun where it had almost decided to peek over the horizon. She hoped, she really hoped, that they had awoken the neighbors.  Snuggling over onto his chest once she crawled quietly back into bed, letting the blankets and his heat warm her, Melissa smiled.  Things were going to be okay for her girlfriend and she was in bed with a man she loved. How much better could it get?  With that, sleep claimed her briefly, allowing them both another few hours before the day came to whisk them apart.  Carmen realized she was still pissed off. Eating her light breakfast this morning, she also realized she was not displeased, irritated or even angry.  Tossing the butter knife that she had used to smear grape jam over her toast into the stainless steel sink, the clatter and bang it made let her feel good, powerful and in control of something.  No, She was pissed off.  The sheer and utter arrogance of Jason, fucking asshole-  The plate followed the knife and the shattering sound that went through the kitchen shocked her nerves, sent a calming wave of remorse through her mind.  “Whoa girl, get a hold of yourself“  Carmen remonstrated silently, seeking some bit of calm to ease the burning frustration in her belly. ”You have to work today and what is bothering you anyway.”  Carmen worked it through as she brushed her teeth then thought some more on the thing that had her walking fast and snapping doors open as she selected a suit to wear for the day.  A suit jacket in charcoal gray, cut with wide shoulders and fuck– YES!  She knew the symbolism inherent in power dressing; black slacks would complement it nicely, she thought.  So what, some days you did what you had to do for your own sanity, your own peace of mind. Whatever gets you through the night, as the old song said, that seemed a good motto at the moment.  Jason expected her to come crawling to him, the click on the other end of the phone had proven that. Carmen wanted to know why he expected that from her.  Fuck, the man had hung up on her without ever letting her chew his ass.  That was chickenshit.  Wasn’t it?  She asked herself this as pretty panties went over her hips, asked again while leaning over the bathroom counter, drawing her lashes out as long as she could.  Was it right for him to be like that after everything that had happened?  Was it right for her to feel guilty about it? What was she guilty of anyway?  She stopped a moment before screwing the mascara tip back into the bottle and setting it carefully down onto the ledge where she kept her other spare bits of makeup, it was not as if she had a lot of toiletries, she needed to take care, get control, she put the thing down with the tiniest of careful clicks.  Then she walked to the toilet, sat down and just closed her eyes for a long moment, closed her eyes and leaned back against the chilly water tank, letting images go through her head as she curved her neck backwards until the cool tile stopped her head’s fall, held her like that.  Carmen realized that the silence of the telephone was still ringing in her mind this morning, had been all weekend and somehow it made her want to cry. Carmen was deeply sad at the turn of things and did not know why she should be, it confused her, all of this.  She was in love with a man who really had earned the name “Icy“ but she was not what he wanted her to be.  How the fuck could any woman be what he was expecting of her.  Goddamn it, she was a self-made woman.  College meant scholarships and hard work, and she had aced it despite the demands. Her practice and her career had been worked at incessantly, shaping her in the end as much as she had shaped it.  She was respected in her profession and men still whistled after her on the street.  Sometimes.  Why this man, and why was she being told to give all of that up. He had not said that, but it was what she felt he would demand, for sure.  Why this man, that was the question she needed answered?  Her hands moved to her belly, long fingers wrapping into a fist as she saw him in her mind.  His head bandaged, the face bruised from the airbag and his body weak. She was doctor enough to realize how close a shave he had been through; the scalpel had literally shaved a hairs width away from the seat of reason, danced one false move away from disaster.  Then she saw him there in her mind, watched again as he smiled that first time, before anything else had happened and a terrible certainty woke in her breast.  She wanted him to smile at her like that all the time, wanted it badly and that smile was the rope that bound her to him.  She shuddered but a finger eased to touch the silk covered clitoris as she sat there, rubbing that suddenly needy nub as picture after picture ran through her head, sending a thrill to her belly as the touch to her softness fired her cheeks.  “Mmmmmmm”  Jason taking her arm on the way out of the door of the dive where hey had met, holding the chair for her as they sat, the feeling she had had of walking with a man like him, the looks of the other women and the alive and catty feeling that had made her laughter so exuberant.  Her fingers slid below the panty, thrusting it aside and easing into her shaved pussy, the nervous frustration of the past days, Carmen had had no release from it, none of the feelings that the man’s eyes whispered lewdly of and his touch promised had been made real.  And there were pictures that did not make her so happy even as they made her ass rolled upward, seeking to open herself more to the touch that she found as sinful as necessary.  Pictures of Joe licking the thighs of Mistress Sable, Mel’s head between her thighs and the remembered orgasm, the remembered tears and the approving murmur of an appreciative audience. These all burned in her soul as she sat there struggling with desires and will, the battle in her soul given physical expression where no one could see.  The look and smell of his pubic hair as Jason had mouth fucked her was remembered and the fact that this turned her on, that that made her bare nipples swell and her clit sear with an aching heat which embarrassed her even as it drove another finger in past wet and blood engorged lips.  Nasty, nasty and now he would never come back, never.  The man had said to call him, Carmen’s hand began to rub faster as her foot found the edge of the small bathtub, faster and the wanted orgasm came nearer, tentative as though it would run away again if the images should stop.  The taste of Jason’s cum in her mouth and she gasped for air, breathing hard as the forearm slapping across her ribs made pretty breasts rock and wiggle to an internal rhythm.  This time, there was no one to see her, no one to watch as the feel of his hand in her hair flared in shameful remembrance and as she realized finally, what would give her release.  And it was a release, deep and thrumming, a letting go of tension and nervousness that she had needed very badly.  “Unnnngggod-  god-god.-damnnnnn….”  It was a deep flow of pleasure that started in her belly, and at the end of it all, it was the picture of his smile that had brought her over that edge, the smile and those eyes that expected things of her had her thighs trembling and her face hot, scarlet. The wordless groan of relief that accompanied her orgasm never left the tiled walls of her bathroom, ending as they had come, unheard.  Carmen sat stiff, her fingers locked deep inside her until those waves of feeling began to ease, and a long moment went by before she could sit up, breathing hard but feeling better.  In some ways.  She had many things to get used to, she had a lot of things that would keep her mind busy for a long time, but the almost clinical orgasm had eased some of her temper.  Some of it, not all.  Carmen washed her hands and finished dressing, feeling bad about the little plate she had broken as she breezed into and out of the tiny kitchen, filling one of those lidded coffee cups that a person could get at most gas stations and heading out of the door.  Maybe she had needed to break something.  Cheap therapy, that was what it was, doctor, heal thyself!  She still wore the powerful clothing and wondered, as she looked at herself in the mirrored elevator where she stood alone, would he like it?  She would go back to the hospital, tonight, as soon as her last client was gone.  Carmen spoke to her reflection in the mirror, leaning in close as though she would make her two-dimensional alter ego aware of the urgency behind the question, speaking quietly as her breath fogged the mirrored glass.  “I hope you know what you’re doing girl.  I sure hope you do.” The reflected Carmen looked as calmly quizzical as she must and then the door opened and Carmen turned to start her day in earnest. She looked much more confident than Carmen felt right now, her mute alter-ego, maybe she knew a secret that would become clear to this Carmen later.  She would be seeing Him, Jason, tonight, the thought thrilled through her now that the decision was made and somehow that put a bounce into her step as the morning sun transformed her hair to a lush, brilliant shine.  Night was falling as Carmen entered the club and she saw Celina kneeling quietly beside the Doc’s knee as Carmen was allowed into the playroom. The slave seemed to be enjoying the slow rub of his fingers over her hair and Carmen settled into her lonely place by the wall as the room began to fill with the members.  The Doc was one of the hardest men Celina had ever met, hard enough to tame a wild society brat, that was almost thirty years ago and she did not regret a minute of it.  Tame her, bind her, and make her enjoy it all, all of it, no matter where he took her.  Celina reflected on that often, it was a big part of life with Doc, just as this club was. They were the last of the founding members but she was satisfied as she looked around.  She saw Master Jason’s girl come in and flashed her a comforting smile, she was not a slave yet, she had not earned that yet, but the new blood was very promising.  Doc offered her a bite of his steak on a fork and Celina dutifully ate despite the fact that she was watching her waistline. The competition was pretty and young, a girl had to work extra hard to keep up, but her master and lover knew what she did to stay pleasing to him.  That was part of the reason she had fallen for the guy so long ago, he demanded-  Well, he demanded everything a girl could give, but he recognized the sacrifice and appreciated it.  That was enough.  A voice raised to be heard above the low hum of conversation and Celina was reminded painfully by her knees that the evening, which had started upstairs in the tamer dining room, had moved downstairs to the playroom quite a while ago.  She shifted to get comfortable and smiled as Doc looked up to listen. Mistress Sable was addressing the crowd from the raised stage and lights were going down low on the orders of some other master, master Sam, most likely.  Apparently, the show was about to begin.  Tonight’s display promised to be quite a surprise to some in the club. That is, it would be if what Doc had let slip as they were dressing before leaving their home to come here was any clue.  She smiled and looked across the room at Leslie where she sat, sullen and quiet among the black collared girls.  The club wasn't so large that everyone could not keep track of everyone else, but the original members had found a need to mark those sluts owned by a firm hand, keep them separate and apart from those who simply waited to be asked to serve.  A red collar meant a girl was owned, had given her loyalty and any decision making into the hands of another.  She said girls, in her mind, but there had been and were others, Joe was a male who wore the red collar of Mistress Sable, to name just one.  “Personal Privilege! I want to claim a personal privilege!”  Sable was standing up and brilliant in the spotlight as the rest of the room became almost opaque. The small woman was looking at Doc and had a very hard glint in here eye.  Sable was a stickler for things, liking the “Right” of a situation to be clear and easily understandable; Mistress Sable never ever forgot to apply discipline if she felt it was needed, never.  She was apparently still pissed off at the backtalk, as she named it, according to Doc, and Celina could only shudder at the look on her face. This was no woman to piss off. However, the little minx had brought it on herself. Celina’s face frowned a bit, some bitches just would not learn, but she had an idea that Sable would try again to teach her.  “That one!”  The diminutive woman had pointed a rigid finger at Leslie, nodding to an invisible someone in the wings, the signal for a light to be directed toward the corner where the other woman sat surprised and squinting into the brilliance of that white glow.  Leslie looked suddenly anxious and Celina liked that, she had her own ideas about how the girls should act toward dominants in their club and was personally of the opinion that Leslie did not belong.  However, she wasn't asked, nor would she be, the tops all had their own ideas.  This was as it should be, that was why they were on top.  “She talked back to me, she raised her voice to a group of dominants and-“ Sable had been walking the whole time, coming down the stairs slowly, moving for effect toward the taller woman who knelt frozen. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an onrushing catastrophe it could not avoid. Her voice was as slow as her graceful stalk, joined by Master Sam’s deeper baritone as it broke into the silence provided as Sable paused to breath.  “She thinks she is better than others.”  Sable nodded at that, standing suddenly before Leslie and gripping her chin hard, holding the pretty woman’s face in merciless fingers as she stared hawk like at the other’s eyes. “Yes, she is uppity, and I hate uppity cunts!”  That slow drawl from Sable was enough to make Celina shiver as well, many of the male dominants here were fiery, some loved to cause pain and others would make a bitch beg for the spanking to stop before they ever thought about easing the blows.  Yet none of them was as scary as Sable, there was always the uncertainty behind those light eyes, and a fevered brain caught up in pains bright grip easily believed the idea.  This woman might not stop.  She looked mad enough to spit nails in a controlled sort of way that made Sam’s stern face seem easygoing and kind.  Fuck.  This was going to be worth watching.  “As you know, personal privilege can be denied, Leslie“  She pronounced it Les-lay, her southern accent rang wildly exotic in this room of harder northern ones and was somehow evocative of a black magic that made you want to huddle closer to someone.  Doc had taken his after dinner whiskey, sat back and pulled Celina’s head to his lap.  She knew what that meant and started to rub the hidden cock slowly with soft fingers, kissing his thigh as she watched.  Master Sam had threaded the belt from his pants, letting them fall and kicking them away before turning to walk half naked to a chair that was placed in the first, larger, spot of light on the floor.  He folded the belt, idly slapping it into his palm and waiting for Sable to do whatever she had planned.  That this “Discipline” had been discussed between them was easy enough to see and that made Celina’s full lips curl into an even larger smile, a smile held secret against the hidden hardness of her master.  Sable was a pleasure to watch, always.  “Do you want me to stop?”  Celina and all of the submissives in the room watched intently at that question. “Personal privilege” was the term used for that moment when one of the tops wanted to punish a submissive not owned by him or her. It was a rule placed into the membership to keep the club from becoming a den of infighting and jealousy.  If a submissive needed a word, or more, his or her own master would deal with it.  Much of what went on, relationship wise, took place with whispered conversations or in the private rooms above the main floor.  However, there were times, and everyone knew that such times happened, when that was simply not enough.  Each dominant was allowed two “Personal privilege” motions per calendar year, the use of such a motion was kept close track of, but few ever felt a need to call one. Few ever had need. This was a special case, another Master had placed Leslie in an initiation, and Sable must use a personal privilege to do this since the case was unclear.  The Doc was shaking her head back and forth in an unmistakable and silent message of desire, Celina set about opening his trousers and easing the hardening cock past the metal zipper.  She worked carefully; he became a bit irate if she let him be scraped by those sharp, brass teeth.  She doubted that Leslie would turn down Sables presumption of personal privilege.  A collared member who denied it was shown the door, the dues refunded and all trace of their tenure erased from the club.  It was a safety valve that made sure no one could complain of being forced past his or her own free will, the question was necessary, and the charter was very explicit on this point.  “No-“ Leslie was suddenly looking toward the ground despite the firm fingers that dimpled the flesh of her cheek, then standing as those fingers pulled on her face, urging her out of her kneeling position and moving her toward where Master Sam sat, idly stroking his turgid cock in the glaring light.  “Kneel! Get on your knees you little bitch!”  The little woman pushed hard and sudden at the taller submissive’s back, her free hand grabbing the temporary collar and forcing her face to the floor between Master Sam’s knees. Uncaring that she stumbled and probably bruised those pretty knees badly. Sable was like that; the woman was very intense.  He smacked the double bent belt one time, threateningly, into his palm before snaking a hard hand into Leslie’s pretty hair as he handed the belt across Leslie’s back to Mistress Sable  The man stayed silent all the while, Celina was certain he would not speak during the punishment. She licked slowly along the head of Doc’s cock, liking the way he was squeezing her ass as the show began to turn him on.  Jaded old pervert.  Celina laughed a bit as a slow snap of the leather merged with the first suckling sound of her mouth wetting Doc’s cock. The slave/wife was grinning over the thick head as she tried to make him feel good.  Yes!  The little bitch had finally pissed of the wrong Mistress.  She sighted along Doc’s trouser covered thigh, resting an arm over his strong leg and watching as Sable slowly removed any and all clothing from Leslie’s body.  God, the bitch was pale; the marks would show up brilliantly on that skin, if the look in Mistress Sable’s eye was any indicator, the marks would be positively livid.  “You slut, thinking you can just speak whenever you want too.”  Sable was bending low where she stood beside the woman; Master Sam had already placed her face over his cock, using her tresses to hold the head immobile. Celina could see the tension under which that shiny hair was being held as the hard eyed man forced the little slut to rub her face all over his genitals, letting her know her position as Sable grabbed a fistful of hair as well, speaking in a vicious tone that left no doubt about her seriousness.”  “I am gonna have my due you little cunt, and you will apologize to Master Sam as well, you will suck his cock into your goddamned throat and you will keep it there until he tells you- that you can remove it; maybe you won’t be so mouthy with that thing closing your hole, huh?“  With that, she literally tossed the head forward, trying, it seemed, to bounce Leslie’s forehead off of the hard edge of Sam’s chair.  Only the hard hold of Sam’s hand in her hair kept it from happening just that way. “If you bite him, if Sam as much as winces once, you uppity little whore-“  Sable’s voce went darker even as her hands folded the belt in two, snapping it once against itself to get a feel of it before she finished speaking.  “I will make you beg for an end to pain.”  Celina shuddered at that and she noticed something, Leslie’s head was being forced down onto Sam’s cock, you could not see the expression on her face, that was hidden by the fall of her hair, but her thighs had tightened and her ass was clenched hard; everything about the woman screamed her anticipation of pain.  She certainly believed the blonde mistress; that was apparent in every line of her taut body.  The audience was hushed but Celina saw quite a few other girls doing exactly as she was, lapping at some man’s cock as he watched Sable and Sam work the woman between them.  They wee a very accomplished team it would seem-  It would seem that Leslie thought so as well; she was nodding vehemently between Sam’s cock and his hold on her, her cheeks were distended and the little bitch still somehow conveyed absolute agreement with everything Mistress Sable was saying; she had yet to really have a reason for her compliance, the only reason she could have was fear.  The little mistress nodded, looked around the room as though to say, “See, look what happens to bad bitches”, letting her hard eye touch as many of the collared girls as it could before raising the belt back and up, bringing it slowly high.  She stood, of course, where Leslie could see her out of the edge of her vision, Sam was grinning and using the woman’s face like a toothed cunt as that belt came speeding down onto the upturned and rounded ass that shone so bright in the spotlight. What a target.  The sound as leather met flesh that first time was loud in the room and brought about an excited murmur that swung across the audience.  Celina giggled over Doc’s cock, risking a slap to her own bare ass if he noticed, she doubted he would notice the small transgression though as she sucked his length all the way into her own throat.  He was rapt. Sable had put a lot of force into that first blow and Leslie seemed to be literally trying to climb over Master Sam. That worthy had his hands full, if you have ever taken a belt to the ass, you will know why, Leslie’s legs were scrambling for purchase and Sam had yanked her head to his lap in an attempt at holding her that would leave the bitch’s throat sore and raw for a week.  Celina giggled again, she would have to make it a point to talk to her, the little cunt, ask her how it had felt.  Leslie was, at this point; ready to agree to anything but Sable was far from done; the Domme was talking in clear and precise tones as she chose her next target.  “Get above yourself-“  The belt landed across the back of those pretty thighs and the crimson welt that bloomed there made a stark contrast to the blush pussy that was so easily seen as she knelt like that.  Again, Leslie choked on Sam’s cock, needing to be bodily held in place as the pain ripped through her body.  Celina knew that feeling; she had needed taming too, in her day.  “Feel like you can just interrupt ANYONE you want to-“ And another welt joined the first two, this one making a lewd X across her ass, another fell on her back, the belt was moving up and down in a slow rhythm that Celina was sure Leslie could dance too.  “You act like you have an opinion or something-“ Sable paused, it looked as though she needed a moment to calm the rage she must be feeling and Celina again decided that she never, ever, wanted to end up where Leslie was.  Not ever, Doc was more than hard enough for her tastes thank you!  Leslie had calmed her body, accepting what she could not tear away from but her tears were running in mascara marked trails down her cheeks. Sam’s lap would he black with the stuff the way he was fucking her head, the hair was in disarray and he was not gentle, forcing his length into her mouth no matter how she struggled and gagged.  The fact that Sable was now walking slowly around Leslie could not have made the woman any surer of herself.  You just knew more was coming, Sable never, ever let up too soon.  You could have heard a pin drop from across the room, the wait staff, those ones who were allowed down here, were silent shadows in the corners and the masters were enthralled, the only real sounds to be heard were the choking gasps of Leslie as Sam brutalized her face.  Celina did notice that the little bitch had hared nipples; she could see them where they swung thick and plump below her stretched body.  The belt descended again and Celina winced, evoking a small reminder from Doc for her to control herself, his hand pushed to the back of her head even as the belt licked cruelly over Leslies tender pussy.  The woman was struggling again and Sam looked as though the fight with her was as much pleasure for him as the hot lips over his balls.  “Are you going to need me to do this to you again bitch? Should I put in a bid for your collar whore?”  Sable was not yelling; the mistress was a block of ice where she had been fire’s pure energy just moments before.  The suggestion and another hard belt to her inflamed cunt brought a deep sob from the slave’s throat.  Celina was certain it was the possibility of becoming Sables “Special project “ that had sparked what must be abject terror in the tall woman’s heart.  She could lead some of the more inexperienced masters on a wild chase easy enough, using her obvious good looks to get away with shit that other girls might not.  That would not be possible with Sable, not at all and Leslie was crying in earnest now, her hands making hard fists as she tried to deal with everything she was obviously feeling.  “Let her talk Sam, please“ Master Sam did not immediately reply, it seemed from the way he was watching the woman whose head he had a hold of that he was-  Yes, he was, the master was cumming hard past those bruised lips. Celina took her own man’s’ cock deep, deep into her mouth as she saw Leslies face pulled abruptly away from the masters lap. Thick gobbets of cum were spewing into her mouth, running back out over the swollen lips and chin as her nose was covered in a last spurt of sperm.  The tears she shed were joining with cum, sweat and make-up to make her somehow oddly beautiful, to a certain sort of perception, one that was prevalent here in the club.  However, Sable was not finished, not by a long shot, not at all.  “I should do that-  I should take you and teach you how to be the bitch you are. You might even enjoy it cunt!”  Sam nodded and sat back, still saying nothing, breathing hard and leaving the wet, glistening cock to wave in the air.  A few drops of his cum had missed her face and landed on the floor; this did not escape the notice of the Mistress, a hard hand was in Leslie’s collar and she was suddenly holding that aristocratic face to the floor again, holding her hard, leaving the girl no room to do anything but what the mistress wanted.  “All of it you fucking cumslut.” She hissed into Leslie’s ear. “Lick all of it up, he’s supposed to feel better after the way you acted, now CLEAN THE FLOOR CUNT!”  Leslie dared a look sideways at the Mistress but the belt brushing her bare back decide her, the pink tongue swept out, her body cringing even as she lapped the white, thick fluid from the floor.  Sam finally let out an “Excellent, Sable, I think the cunt has promise.” His voice was a study in satisfaction and Sable simply nodded at that, holding Leslie there until every inch of the floor that had been stained was licked clean, every last drop swallowed.  “Good, don’t make this necessary again bitch, you better remember this next time you feel bitchy.” Leaning in so close, Sable made her case and nailed it shut with a simple, icy-cold phrase.  “Next time I have to do this Les-lay.”  Her hand shook the pale woman by the collar for emphasis.  “I won’t be near so nice about it.”  With that the Mistress stood, honor returned and a lesson learned.  “Thank you all, personal privilege has been served.”  She moved to her own chair then, handing the belt back to Sam and leaving Leslie to fend for herself on the floor as the lights came back up to a comfortable level.  Celina swallowed the load of cum that her lover had given her, not letting a single drop miss, more than one girl had taken the lesson to heart.  She was very sure of that as the Doc stroked her hair, groaning lightly in the last throes of his own orgasm.  Times like this made Celina dammed glad she was-  A good girl.  Joe was pissed off; He knew that even as his big hand slammed the door to the gym open.  Mad and he should not be.  Logic told him he should not be, but his heart was singing a different tune.  “Hey Joe, been awhile big guy.” Joe grunted something non-committal and took the two towels that were his due before heading back to the locker that had been his for years.  His mind was working through last night slowly.  Sable had chained him to a wall, which was not the bad part, he had grown to actually like that in some ways, the bad part was that she had made him watch as a stranger fucked her.  Joe pulled his street clothes off and knew he was hard at the thought, his cock was standing proud and stiff at the memory of hr body shuddering below another man’s attentions.  The bitch!  She had slid up between his legs while the other guy had fucked her, smiling up at him in that slow, catlike way she had as her long fingers gripped Joe’s knees for support.  And never once had she moved to relieve Joe’s pressures, never once did she get closer than his knees, she had let him suffer.  .  The metal locker door sounded as though it would fall from the hinges with the force lent it by Joe’s huge hand. Well, at least it was closed.  Fuck, why did he do this to himself.  Why?  Because he was head over heels in love with Mistress Sable and the only way to keep her around was on her terms.  Bitch.  “Hey Joe, “ Joe was busy nodding at the other boxers, the smell of sweat and the sounds that you only found in a boxing gym surrounding him as he tried to put on a public face  Hell, he had trained a lot of those now calling out friendly hellos.  There was a bag and after seventy-five push-ups and a lot of stretching Joe placed himself in front of it, letting his feet fall into an easy shuffle as he made the bag shudder and rock below his fists.  Time went by, hit, duck, move, hit again and dodge.  The smack as his gloved fists contacted the leather made him feel good, what did not feel good was the not knowing which person he would rather have replace the bag.  The big dicked stranger or Sable.  Lord, the skinny fucker had made her purr, had done things to her that Joe had not once been allowed to do.  Moreover, she had enjoyed it. That was almost as much a crime as having the other there at all.  He should have known when he showed up at her house, Sable had been dressed in black stockings and a corset that let her soft tits well up like inviting pillows.  He had figured they would play, much as they usually did, but there had been another man sitting on the sofa after Sable had led him into the living room. Led him right by the smaller man and chained him. Joe knew that that was at least a part of his anger; the injury to his male pride, Joe had been embarrassed.  Passers-by would most likely have sworn that the big man with the look of murderous rage on his face was about to rip the bag from its mooring in the ceiling above him, so hard did he punch and beat it.  He was not sure what else had him this angry either, whether it was the idea of her acting like a submissive little slut in front of a guy that Joe could break in two, or because the other guy had seen him, Joe, chained and teased. Maybe it had been watching her suck the guy hard and hearing him slap her ass in his passion.  Fuck!  Joe was angry, he had pledged himself to do a she commanded but had not realized that it would be this hard.  After it was done, after she had wiped the man’s cum from her mouth and sent him on his way, Sable had only kissed Joe once.  Kissed him once, asked him if he was happy that she felt so thoroughly fucked and let him sleep on the floor beside her bed.  Push-ups, he needed to do more pus-ups, needed to swell the muscles that covered his frame in hard knots.  Needed to feel like a man again.  Up and down and it still did not remove the bad taste from his mouth, did not ease his ache and big men were not supposed to hurt like this.  Sable had not seemed to hurt at all; he wondered sometimes, she was so cold to him, if she felt to Joe as Joe felt to her.  Probably not, he could deny her nothing and she could deny him everything.  It was the nature of her leverage; Joe was smart enough to know that.  But she was so alluring as a proud and haughty Mistress; it made his heart swell l to see her in command. He could not really think of leaving her to find another man.  Was that what he was thinking of this morning?  The other night, as she had given Leslie her much deserved comeuppance, Joe had been proud of her strength and her control, proud of the way she had held herself on the edge of true anger, a Mistress should be in control, he thought.  .  They talked in private, Joe and his Mistress, and Leslie was damned lucky Mistress Sable had calmed down.  She had that kind of temper, that almost brought a chuckle, lord, Joe could attest to that.  “Hey, Joe, feel like sparring?” Joe looked up as Chris Derones smiled from the ring, dancing to stay warm and was not really someone Joe should be hitting on this morning. Chris was a good guy, a friend of sorts, but the big man found himself nodding and slipping between the top rope and the mat, starting his own little shuffling dance as a referee was conscripted out of the crowd.  “Whoa partner, you look like you got blood in your eye Joe,“ They touched gloves and Chris added an aside before placing the rubber tooth guard into his mouth. “I don’t know who pissed you off brother, but it wasn’t me.” Joe nodded at the handsome black man and shuffled forward, keeping his head down as a bell rang. The man had the right of it and Joe told himself he would be careful  The worst part of it was, she had enjoyed the other man, that and the looks the guy had given the chain that kept Joe from ripping him out of his Sable’s body.  Damn, his head rocked back and he was reminded painfully to not let his attention wander, he was one of the people who had trained Chris, and the guy would not be taking it easy on Joe, Chris still had title ambitions and trained damned hard.  The punch was hard too; Joe managed to get a short one under the other man’s ribs and danced out of a coming clinch.  Now he felt a bit better.  Why couldn’t she enjoy the same things from him? Why did she have to find another man to fuck her like that? Why in front of him, watching his eyes as though daring him to do something to stop her, why did she think he needed that?  He risked a fast advance pummeling Chris’ ribs even as he remembered the other fellow eying the thick round curve of Joe’s naked shoulders the night before, remembered him looking at the light chain and wondering if Joe could, would, snap it and come after him.  No, the chain had not held Joe away from the other guy; his word had done that.  .  One, two, step back and three to the breadbasket, he just missed Chris’ head, Joe felt the springy floor below his feet and saw the punch coming even as he realized he was not going to be able to avoid it.  “Unnngh.”  Damn, that man could hit hard, Joe was moving back, avoiding the ropes as he tried to clear his head.  This was what he had needed, something else to think about, even if it was an aching neck and pummeled face. Joe gave himself to the dance of it, sweat rolling and his breath coming in a simple easy rhythm that cleared the mind.  This was why men became warriors; this was why they fought.  It cleansed the soul  Academically, he knew what she was doing, logically he could understand it and to be fair, she had warned him that she would make him hurt.  “Ah’ll test you, big man, in ways you have never dreamed of, pain ain’t nothing to you, I’ll have to be creative“ And she had laughed, then gone on to get creative, fuck he loved her slow accent, loved to hear it drip like acid honey onto his bent neck.  He had to admit, no whip to the back could have hurt as much as last night had, no slap to the face could sting as deeply as watching her suckle another man, she had been trying to make another man feel good and tall and superior. That had burned Joe deeply.  Chris was stepping slowly back, prudent, Joe had his he ducked down and was slugging left and right into the man’s ribs, most went wide as the other blocked them but he was hearing quite a few grunts that told him he was on target.  Then the bell rang, three minutes and that broke the spell.  Sweat was cascading off of both of them, Chris was grinning, as he sat in the other corner, nodding at Joe, this was why they came here, this was why some of the folks here sought each other out, this was real.  “Ding-ding” Another round and it would be Joe’s last, he had to be at the club in an hour, that was thrust out of his mind as Chris came across the ring fast, using his longer reach to clock Joe one to the head, a second and suddenly Joe was really fighting, beating the man back before he got beat.  They stood toe to toe, the taste of salty blood sharp as Joe’s nose gave way, again, to a hard punch.  Ignore it and return the favor.  People were standing around the ring now; the young ones quiet as muscle rolled and stretched, watching as flesh covered bone became a bludgeon.  Joe knew- if he ever saw that motherfucker again-  Chris was down, down on the mat and Joe stepped back like a professional, a gentleman boxer.  A punch to the chin had caught Chris even as the certainty filled Joe’s mind, knocking the taller man to the floor.  Backing up, he felt better.  He belonged to Sable, and he would do as she dictated, that was set in stone, he had given his word on it.  Leaning against he ropes as ice was applied to his nose, a young enthusiast helping him remove the gloves, Joe felt alive and much better.  However, if he ever did see that guy again, he would probably kill him, or at least make the man wish he were dead, just because he could.  And the fact that he could made Joe feel much, much better.  “Hey, Chris, good fight.” He was talking nasal as blood clotted in the sinuses and Chris was grinning like an idiot. Yeah, he liked it hard; the man wanted a title.  “Thanks champ, always a pleasure.” Joe had not been a champion in over five years, but it still felt good to hear the title applied to him.  Then it was into the showers and dress in the stylish clothing Joe preferred, shave and make yourself smell good, be presentable.  His nose hurt, his ribs felt as though a train had run over them and his heart still ached a little bit.  She had looked lovely like that, well, what could you do.  Keep trying,  The air was chill outside after the shower and Joe found himself whistling as he walked to the club.  Smart woman his mistress, Joe realized how much that meant to him.  He had a smart woman, how much more could a guy want? „An ambulance, damn I don’t need this.“  He was bitching, of course he was, but the people whose job it was to transport other people smiled politely at Jason and let him grump all he wanted to.  He might as well have been bound, was actually strapped down to prevent him from falling out of the wheeled bed that had been his for what seemed forever.  The address given to the driver was Carmen’s and Jason was not at all sure how he felt about that.  She liked the idea, he knew that, and in a rare moment of honesty, Jason was forced to realize that he liked it too. Damn, as weak as he was after that stupid accident he needed her close.  It was that need which had his mood dark and his eyes blazing.  “Okay, ready“ They were politely ignoring him as the bed was lifted into the ambulance.  Lord the fresh air felt good and Jason’s skin goose pimpled in the early morning chill it was warmer than it had been when he’d gone into the hospital though.  There was a thud and then one of his attendant’s was jumping in easily beside him, closing the door firmly behind him.  Jason was thrilled; no more nurses, no more regimen, no more smell of antiseptic cleaners and polite formality, he was out!  “Damn man, it feels like I’m getting out of prison“ The E.M.T. laughed and they passed the time during the short drive with pleasantries that were actually quite pleasant and Jason began looking forward to seeing his girl’s face.  That she would be waiting to receive him was a given and the thought of her made him glad of the light blanket they had left him.  His cock was rising below the concealing cloth and Jason tried hard to put the thought of Carmen’s naked body out of his mind, lot of good that did him, his body was signaling a need that had simply grown and grown over the long days of his recovery.  And that thought brought a private smile that must have the other fellow thinking he was a bit touched in the head, Carmen had come to him in the night several times when the floor was quiet and the nurses sleepy, sucking his cock to relieve the pressure and loneliness he felt.  It was not the blowjobs nor the thought of them that made his smile so satisfied, it was the fact that she now saw it as her task; her desire was to ease his desires and that pleased him.  He could see the building that she lived in after a short drive through city traffic, tall and modern and he looked through a window in the ambulance up to where he figured her windows could be.  Shit, He was as excited as she had seemed to be on the phone a bit ago. Then they were parking before the building, soon after that he was back in the fresh air again, through a door, which a passer-by kindly held, and the elevator hummed them efficiently upwards.  Jason was-  He was tense, some part of him felt as though he were giving up some sort of autonomy, then he laughed at himself as he saw her door open, saw her standing there waiting for him as the EMT’s decided that he could walk the last few feet.  “Let me up boys” He addressed the EMT’s “I want to do this right.” It was not much of a struggle, not really, his body had been kept hard and supple through exercise before the accident and the weeks of lying about had not ruined that, a thing for which he was grateful as his legs swung away from the hospital bed and his slippered feet hit the stone of her foyer.  Then he was standing and Carmen was slipping an arm around his waist. “Jason, let me help you“ Jason had to take a big breath of air and force down his impulse to deny her, to deny, really, that he needed help. However, he was also a realist and admitted that he needed the arm around his ribs.  “You smell good, baby” That brought a grin to her pretty face and soon they were into her apartment, and she was pushing him back into the pillows of her bed.  “Hey! Quit pushing me around!” However, he grinned when he said it and snuck a quick squeeze to her tit.  He was in a good mood; the men were leaving her an oxygen bottle and talking in low tones. People always did that around sick people, as though loud tones would stop the healing process.  Then they were gone and Carmen as walking into the sunny room, Jason had clicked on the bedside radio and his eyes went to hers as she came across the floor.  “Nice place you have here pet, are you sure you can put up with me?”  Carmen was in a simple one-piece print dress that stopped somewhere above mid thigh and Jason thrilled at the sight of her panty-less crotch as she sat on the bed beside him.  “I thought I didn’t have a choice.”  The scene suddenly reminded Jason of Doc and his Celina, reminded him starkly of the small and easy banter they sometimes engaged in and he smiled even as his fingers shoved the hem of her skirt back. He was horny, the feel of her pretty thighs only made that worse, as did the knowledge that there were no orderlies, nurses or visitors to disturb them.  “It is your apartment, your private space, of course you had a choice.” He was shaven, had insisted on it on this, his day of release and Jason forced himself to sit up, moving carefully as his ribs still ached like the devil.  “Now, you do not have a choice anymore, you have made it” Funny, that made her smile and Jason pressed his advantage, touching the shaven pussy with a finger that had been too long idle, easing apart the folds of her labia even as his wide palm forced her thighs to open.  “You’re a sick man Jason” “He laughed at that, a bright rich sound that filled her woman’s abode with a man’s lust.  “You noticed”  Carmen got a stubborn look on her face at his teasing tone and grin, saying, “You should rest” She whispered that and Jason shook his head almost furiously, that was a mistake. It had hurt, but he ignored the pain.  “I don’t want to rest, I want to fuck! I have rested enough over the last weeks, Carmen“ The radio had moved into an oldie hour or something, music from his-  Their- youth was sweet to the ears and Carmen was suddenly up, standing beside the bed and shucking the print dress off of her body.  Jason just watched, enthralled as she moved and amused, as her dress became a pile of cloth in a corner.  “Carmen, you are so beautiful“ He was hard and she was tender, walking carefully on her knees across the mattress until she straddled him. His urge was to grip her and take her, it was how he liked things but necessity can make even the most stubborn of men change.  Necessity can make the hardest of men learn.  Nevertheless, he watched and he evaluated everything even as she smiled down at him, his eyes greedy for all of her, from the curvy swell of her breasts to the slightly rounded fall of her belly that led the eyes to her cunt.  Her pretty pussy that was even now-  “Oh damn, damn baby.” He gasped and let his fingers clasp her ass as the head of his penis slid past those nether lips, Carmen’s fingers were easing the way, pulling herself open and spreading her wetness over his rigidity even as her thighs flexed with the effort of a slow and controlled descent. “You feel so good, good to me.”  And she did, her body was warm and open to his hands exploration, cupping a tit here, easing down across her ribs until he could grip her clit.  There, right there, he held her tight and watched her face as she fucked him.  His eyes watched the hair as it came forward over her face, loving the sight of her pleasure even as he squeezed her clit hard, squeezed and twisted that slippery button as she bounced lasciviously over his groin.  Jason- Please-“ Carmen had gasped and that had made him smile, because she had not complained. She was learning and Jason was suddenly deeply happy.  The accident and his own mistakes could have ruined everything, but it had not, that fact glowed at the back of his mind even as his belly tightened. It had not ruined anything, thankfully.  There was no wild abandon, she was worried about his injuries and the man had to accept that she was right.  There was time.  “Baby, please, I need to cum“ Carmen was gasping her pretty plea toward his face even as she bent forward to kiss his neck, she was so careful, her tenderness touched him and he switched from a hard grip of her hooded clit to a demanding rub that joined her up and down ride of his cock in rhythm.  “Cum then“  He growled in her ear as she fell forward onto his shoulder, loving the smell of her hair as it hid his face and suddenly aware of her mirror, he could see her ass high in the air, see his cock sliding wetly in and out of her pussy in that glass.  Goddamn it!  “Cum for me baby, cum on Carmen, I think I love you bitch!”  And there it was, the fucking “L” word and it surprised him that he had said it, made him sink his teeth into her neck and suck hard like some silly teenager.  He wanted her marked as his.  That word had the strangest effect on her, she tensed and actually gripped his hair, whimpering as her cunt tightened and fluttered over his penis.  “That’s right baby, that’s right, cum for me, come on-“  Another growl and his eyes watched in the mirror as a hand that seemed to belong to some stranger rose high slapping her quivering ass; the sound was low in the room and made him smile as he began moving again.  “Yes, yes, yes- Ohhh finally"  Her voice was tiny; if she had not had her lips beside his neck he would have missed those words under the music supplied by the radio, words whispered below the concert made by the box springs below them.  However, he had heard them and loved the feeling of making this fine bitch feel so good.  One piece of the power puzzle fell into place and Jason’s own cum threatened to spill into her pussy. Threatened more than he could control and suddenly he was gripping her hair, holding her like some animal that she not get away as he jerked hard upwards, wanting to reach the core of her body in an instinctual need.  “Ahhhhh, sweet- that is so sweet.”  Hot cum was a searing almost pain that rammed through the middle of his belly before it flowed lava like through the stem of his cock; then she was wet, wet, wet with his sperm, and held by his touch. Then it was over, she huddled there, both of them breathing hard while she murmured into his neck, kissing him with the tiny kisses that made him feel so very sovereign.  “This is going to work out fine, baby”  “Are you sure Jason, oh I hope so.” He rubbed her ass in a soft grip of possession and nodded into the cloud of hair, talking quietly “I’m sure it will pet.” He managed before he eased into sleep.  Carmen stood up slowly, Jason had fallen asleep and that was no wonder, the rumbling of her belly was still as pleasant as the tiny aftershocks f their lovemaking tremored through her cunt.  Her cunt, that made Carmen smile a bit, she would never have talked like that a month before meeting him, he talked like that and she found herself liking it, when it came from him.  Her cunt.  There were things to do, she should not be standing here watching him sleep, the day waited for her but she took the time anyway.  He looked so good like that, sleeping easily and restful after their initiation of her bed.  A slow catlike smile spread across her face as she remembered his voice, his words.  “I‘m sure it will, pet“ And somehow his surety gave her a warm certainty too.  She had to get ready, the day was moving at it’s own pace but Carmen would have been surprised to know that you could hear her singing in the shower.  You could hear it all the way outside in the foyer, if you listened. 
 
 
 
 Shocking surprise! 
 Stars as landmarks, each a soul that nears me as I travel, flow  through the dark and lonesome universe,  stars that must be, at some point, like me.  No joy, I'm too far away for clarity.  One, two, sometimes more, writhe and twist a little, try, to get close enough, volition's tough but they come within the reach of my eyes.  Issuing pretty sighs and prettier tears, shed like the most painful spears sleeting  Down onto a battleground that has  known much of those pricks and pains, seeking, ever seeking, oh yes-  The gain, an added mass, one plus one makes three in synergy, desires wanting to be filled-  Like to like and then not quite, pacing  each other in negative light, sometimes-  They make the emptiness glow, do nova go for the briefest of split-  Infinities.  Then wander off again, not quite enemy, not quite friend, the differences were perhaps too great  to let them blaze like heaven's gate and yet-  As I travel through silence unbroached, pulsing that fire despite reproach, I know, I would not once pass away without taking that temporary comfort along the way,  a chance to touch, a chance to change some elemental part of the never ending chain. I'll do it ever again.  No, no way to hide, no reason as well, disappointments are knowledge, take the time to dwell- on what they teach, before you preach.  Alone, yes, perhaps, but like swimming seed-  Every touch has deepened that need.  The way is long, the end, unseen. 
 
 
 
 Postlogue 
 Stars as landmarks, each a soul that nears me as I travel, flow  through the dark and lonesome universe,  stars that must be, at some point, like me.  No joy, I'm too far away for clarity.  One, two, sometimes more, writhe and twist a little, try, to get close enough, volition's tough but they come within the reach of my eyes.  Issuing pretty sighs and prettier tears, shed like the most painful spears sleeting  Down onto a battleground that has  known much of those pricks and pains, seeking, ever seeking, oh yes-  The gain, an added mass, one plus one makes three in synergy, desires wanting to be filled-  Like to like and then not quite, pacing  each other in negative light, sometimes-  They make the emptiness glow, do nova go for the briefest of split-  Infinities.  Then wander off again, not quite enemy, not quite friend, the differences were perhaps too great  to let them blaze like heaven's gate and yet-  As I travel through silence unbroached, pulsing that fire despite reproach, I know, I would not once pass away without taking that temporary comfort along the way,  a chance to touch, a chance to change some elemental part of the never ending chain. I'll do it ever again.  No, no way to hide, no reason as well, disappointments are knowledge, take the time to dwell- on what they teach, before you preach.  Alone, yes, perhaps, but like swimming seed-  Every touch has deepened that need.  The way is long, the end, unseen. 
 
 
 
 Tete a Tete 
 It had been a good day. A day filled with a lot of laughter and good food. They'd invited Sarah over for an early lunch. That had turned into a day at the lake and dinner on the small patio. Barbecued steaks and red wine. 
 Master had gone to lay down and she kicked one foot over the ankle of the other under her chair as she leaned forward, listening to sarah talk as the heady red wine aroma filled her nose. fingers twirling the stem of the crystal in her fingers. 
 It's been so long since I had any!" She ripped up a piece of paper and tossed it to the table idly, frustration in her every move as she sipped her own wine. "It's my own fault, i think I'm too fucking picky!" property nodded and smiled as the hint of an idea came into her head. "You have to be picky, gosh, some of the men who call themselves doms- how i remember!' She did, she did and she was so glad to have her Daddy snoring lightly through that door. "Yeah, I know, you're so lucky! You don't have to look anymore." Sarah got up and paced across the kitchen, grabbing the red wine from a counter and coming over to refill both of their glasses. As property's glass filled and the bottle was withdrawn, she reached out and grabbed Sarah's wrist.  
   
 "You don't have to do without...." She said it, almost surprising herself in doing so, watching as that statment hung in the room. Sarah's eyes widened then she smiled. "Oh babe, I love you too! But I really need a spanking and a hard fuck."  
 Property smiled and took another sip still holding Sarah's wrist, eyes sparkling merrily as they bored into her girlfriend's. "That's what I mean. I can't have a sister, but he says he would be fine with it if I bring another submissive to him. I've been thinking about it a long time." Two pretty faces locked as silence stretched out. "I wouldn't want to cause trouble..." got tangled up with "You'd never get a collar, but he's a good dominant, and I wouldn't be jealous of you, ever." 
 Somehow property stood and kissed Sarah, sarah leaned forward and kissed her back, hard and warm. Then they were holding hands and walking toward that door. The one where a soft snore, the low growl of a napping man filled the room. 
   
 
 
 
 Doubt 
 "Master?" she said from where she was kneeling. "May I speak?" He sat, watching her there as he sipped of the coffee she'd brought them after an intense morning of lovemaking and training. He nodded, her face was clouded, her eyes downcast, looking everywhere but at him. "Speak, angel, what's bothering you?"  He changed the position of his legs for comfort, dropping the left one from his knee and sliding the right one over the other. She fidgeted, her mouth worked a bit and then she spoke. "Do I...please you?He considered her face. Where the hell was this coming from... ahhh, of course. But he'd ask, of course. He strongly felt you needed to know what your slave was thinking. And he had a bad habit of sounding off without finding out. You can't do that so he leaned forward, the cup in two hands, and asked her "What brought this on?" She sat back and the words "Oh, never mind, I'm just being..." His voice stopped her in mid sentence. "You asked to speak, now speak!" Forceful, his voice, messenger of his will, it booms quietly through their living room. As was her way, she fought it, then it burst out of her mouth. "I didn't please you! I gave it my all and you didn't cum!" Whoa, whoa, she was crying. This was a big deal. "And that bothers you? I can see why it might. Why do you think I wasn't pleased and happy? Because I didn't cum on your face?"His hand reached out, palm warm from the coffee cup it had been holding and he cups her cheek, softly, gently, possessively. "You don't have all the facts. Nor do you have the right mindset." It's a long, long journey from vanilla wife to slave, and his task to guide her, one he took on willingly. She didn't need a slap now, she needed information, guidance."You're forgetting a few things. I didn't tell you what my pleasure looked like to me, you figure my pleasure is shown by my semen on your face." Sitting back, he sips again. "You decided that all on your own. It's causing you anguish."Sitting back, he sips again, the cup nearly empty now and considers her. They long ago established the fact that there was no sense in lying to save another's feelings or prettifying things to make it all seem good. This was too raw, what they lived, for such things. And they needed raw."Look at me! Look at my eyes pet." Her head lifted and those pretty eyes locked on hers. A slave loves her Master, she has a lot of fears at the beginning. He only knew one way to alleviate those fears. "If you weren't pleasing me, you'd not be kneeling there. And if you were not pleasing me, I'd tell you"She started crying and he leaned forward, lifting her to his lap and letting her bury her face into his neck. None of this was easy.All of it was worthwhile.Time passed as they sat there and the evening came on, the room darkening as they whispered low and talked, kissed, touched. She'd be okay now, until the next thing came along. And wasn't that why she chose him? Her Master, her Guide, her support and her husband.The moon came out, seen through a curtained window and closed....Another day in the life.  
 
 
 
 Of Pride and Regret. 
 The alarm went off and her eyes popped open. The room was dark, dark like her dreams had been. He slept still, it was their way. The morning always started with her shutting off the alarm, kissing his cheek, then rolling out of bed to go piss and make coffee. Today, she didn't kiss his cheek. The woman who looked back at her from the bathroom mirror looked emotionless. She looked like she was trying to stay that way with a determined effort. Teeth brushed, she thought about last night as fine coffee grounds were spooned into the filter and she got the pot going. Only enough for two cups today, both for her. She prepared her cup as the coffee perked and dripped, making the homey morning sounds that she loved. They sounded so like home. The problem was that home didn't feel like home this morning. She was going to do it, she was, she knew it and it made her stomach roil. He would be so pissed off when he found out. The two parts of her warred inside, they'd went to bed on the wave of a very seldom and very severe argument. One part was deathly afraid of his anger and what it would bring. The other said "GOOD!" in an angry voice on thinking of him angry and feeling helpless. Sitting at the kitchen table before the laptop, she sipped her coffee and suddenly decided, typed a fast email to an address she hadn't used in years and hit send. Why, since she'd met master it had lain dormant, hidden, in her inactive contacts list, why now. She knew why- and it made her sick to her stomach on some level. Resolved, anger at his criticism of the night before, she stood up and went to find her jacket.She stood there for a long time after she zipped the jacket closed. It was very certainly going to be cold outside, Winter time. She hesitated when she didn't want to hesitate. She wanted to march out in righteous fury and show HIM! So, she wasn't acting like a slave, was she? Her fears were groundless were they? He didn't want to listen to her, did he? Suddenly, her fingers undid the clasp of her collar and she laid it on the little garderobe before the door. A turn of the knob and she was out. Out of their house, their home. OUT!An hour later and she was smiling. The day was gorgeous, see, not everything was dark. Shut up stomach, just shut up. She was an independent woman. She COULD be that and a slave at the same time. They.... They just must not fit, how else could he see things so wrong? Sometimes it took a few years to find out you weren't meant for each other.Her mind mulled it over and over and something just was not right. She felt it clearly, something in her thought process was demanding she stop the car and ask herself some hard questions. Yeah, right, it had become clear last night when he'd slapped her and said she was behaving childishly. She'd show him childish. No, he was the one acting childish, arrogant and demanding and ignoring her concerns. There was the turn off, she took it, knowing where it led. Feeling her heart leap in a wild thunder of gibbering fear as she read the name of the town, stopped for the first red light."You don't have to DO this!" She told herself, then the light changed and she was in the wrong lane to go anywhere but- there. There was a motel with a small restaurant. A place guests or travelers could get a cup of coffee and breakfast if they wanted it. She parked the car and told her screaming mind to shut the fuck up, she was a big girl and knew what she was doing. Nobody treated her that way. He wasn't the only dom in the fucking world! She ordered coffee after sitting where she could watch the door. Sipping, she remarked on how much smaller he was physically than her Master as she saw him enter... Than him, not master, him. She didn't let her mind touch that word while another dominant slid into the booth across from her. No way, that was too uncomfortable. She tried to not even think of him then wondered if he was awake, if he'd found her collar. The man was talking to her, she shook herself and listened. "Hey, it's been a long time! You look great!" She smiled and repeated his words, looked him over. Once, she'd been very attracted to him. Now, she waited to see if that was still there. Her anger at her mistreatment, her, yeah, abuse by the one she'd chosen to trust most welled up inside her again. "I really didn't think I'd ever hear from you again after I saw you'd taken that dickhead's collar." The fellows eyes were sharp as he looked at her neck, sharp and hungry in a way that made her squirm. His remark about her M- him made her angry, but she suppressed it, he was a dickhead."I see you're not wearing it this morning. Trouble in paradise?" He looked up as the waitress came to ask after their needs, they ordered, he taking a typical meat heavy breakfast while she stuck with two eggs, two strips of bacon and toast. She wasn't as hungry... as she'd thought she would be.They ate and she opened up, telling him in angrier and angrier tones what she was feeling. "Oh, well, I warned you about that guy. I told you he was a demanding prick. Arrogant fucker too. So, what had him upset with you? It can't be that gorgeous body!" She looked away, what had caused his anger. She wouldn't go there, saying only "Oh, he's a fucking psycho sometimes." He nodded and finished his breakfast, hers was long cold and ignored. There wasn't any room for eggs in a cavern full of butterflies."Hey, I took the day off when I got your mail. Why don't we get a room and celebrate your new found independence? A slave needs to be damned careful who she puts her trust in. You know, I always felt we had a chance, I felt I just didn't have a chance to show you what a master I could be for you. That guy stole you from me before I could win you and I want you to kneel for me!"They were at the register when he slipped his arm over her shoulder, a hand falling, casually, until fingers squeezed a full tit greedily. The cashier girl's eyes widened a little and she blushed, giving change back to the man.They walked out into the parking lot between the restaurant and the motel proper and suddenly, she was grabbed, kissed and mauled all at the same time. She found herself fighting back, stepping away from the flurry of hands. "What are you DOING?" She yelled, caught off guard. The man she used to know stood there with a sneer in his eyes, looking at her before stepping forward and actually grabbing her long hair. "Look, don't play with me you little bitch. We both know what it is when a slave meets another dom, not wearing her collar and dressed to kill. Now, you WILL obey me. I'm going to take you to that motel, get us a room, and I'm going to use you like the little slut you are!"He said it with absolute certainty and a seedy, seamy taint to his voice that fit the lips curled into a sneer."No, no- I've made a mistake!" She slapped his fist out of her hair and looked around, there were a couple of people close, if she screamed someone would notice. "Touch me again and you get a rape charge. I made a mistake! I'm sorry I involved you!"She turned, leaving him standing there and ran blindly to her car. Somehow she managed to get in, get it started and moving. Somewhere else, miles away, she pulled over and lost her breakfast to a tree that didn't seem to mind. She sat there for a long time. Holy fuck, what had she done. How the HELL had she allowed it to happen She was a SLAVE! And she loved him.The day passed while she sat in her car. Noon came and eventually she watched the sun go down, felt night time wrap up her world. Her mind had been there all day anyway, in the dark. He preached about it, maybe that was why she had wigged out. He was always so damn RIGHT! Sometimes, she didn't want him to be so right about her innermost weaknesses. But he was, too often for comfort. But did she become a slave to be comfortable?She turned on her phone, waiting for it to go crazy. There were only two messages. The first said "I found your collar, I'm really disappointed- don't do anything stupid, you#re not released." And the second, that one hurt the most. She read it over and over again. "Come home, I love you. Master."When she got her tears under control, she started the engine and pointed the nose of her car toward home. Was it still home? Oh my Gods, she knew what he'd think of her actions today. She also knew she'd tell him, tell him all of it. She had no choice. Her headlights swept the house as she pulled into the driveway. The windows were dark but his old car was there, so he was too. Opening the door, she smelled weed, incense, sage. That was a good sign, except it wasn't, he was trying to stay peaceful. Hanging up her jacket, she looked, she had to. Her collar wasn't where she left it. Nervous, she straightened her clothes, before stepping off to find him. She felt, dirty, that other man....he'd grabbed her everywhere. Like he had a right to do that. He did NOT! "Come in here, we may as well get it over with." Master's voice was deep, low and calm. Resigned and resolved, she'd say. Walking into the room, seeing his nod toward her place at his feet, she slid to a kneel and immediately placed her forehead to the floor. Tears were already falling and she knew she'd cry many tonight. He'd make sure of that, if he didn't she would."Slaves, real slaves, they can't run. All they can do is waste time and lose their honor."His hand touched her cheek and she wailed as though she'd been slapped, wanted him to slap her. "Come pet, lift your head and tell me- all about your day." Looking up, she saw he had her collar in one hand. "You took it off, you put it back on. If you ever take it off again- " Her eyes looked at his face. Where else does a girl look when HE was talking, and she shuddered inside. "Master, I won't..." He left the threat unspoken as she burst into fresh tears, handing her the strip of leather to be placed around her neck. Crying, answering questions, telling him about her day, all of it. time passed and the night became old as they worked it through. Finally He took them to bed, where they lay and cuddled until sleep took them. Sleep that came to end another day...In the life. 
 
 
 
 A strand of hair. 
 She pulled into the parking space in front of the building that they were going to use to hold the munch. Putting the car in Park, she opened the door and got out, straightening her slacks and sensible blouse before unloading the basket of cleaning supplies she’d fetched with her from home. Sue met her at the door and took the basket from her left hand, the smile on her face genuine. She liked Sue, they always got along even if they did have differing views on some things. Who didn’t? “Good morning! I’m glad you could make it. We got the rent on this place pretty cheap, but it’s going to need a lot of scrubbing. Is your master coming?” They went in, talking as they walked, and as the door closed behind her she felt eyes on her from deeper in the old building. Sue’s master, JIm, was standing in the center of what was to become the social room, surrounded by submissives and slaves who’d volunteered to help whip the place into shape. Everyone was busy, everyone had some tool or cleaning article in their hands- except Jim. No, he was telling everyone what to do. Her eyes met his and she dismissed his authoritarian stance. Her master had told her it was okay to come here, her master was the only one tow told her to do anything. 
 “This is supposed to be a house dedicated to BDSM!” Jim’s raised voice boomed through the house, suddenly, just as she was drawing water so she could begin to mop the floors, she heard him again. “Sue! Tits out slave. If I have to run this circus, I should at least have something good to look at while I’m here!” 
 Her cheeks flamed, for Sue, who was dutifully taking her blouse off, baring her tits before she got back to painting. That wasn’t wise, she was going to have paint all over her skin. That brought a shrug and a shake of her head, several of the other girls were also shaking their heads. None of them were taking their damn tits out either. She certainly wasn’t going to, her old man would have a fucking FIT if she did. And he would have a right to. The only one who joined Sue in shedding her clothing was Jillian, uncollared and looking, she had the reputation of doing anything any male told her to do. That brought a snort as she scrubbed at the ancient but still really elegant flooring. Master and she always agreed, whatever floats other people’s boats, but she damn well knew what she was supposed to do. And she did it. 
 “Wow, look at that, it’s already lunch. We’ve got pizza coming in the door now if you wanna take a break.” She looked up and smiled at Sharon, they only knew each other a little, but she did feel they might become good friends. “Oh, heck yeah. I’m starving, let’s go eat.” 
 They walked into the large common room together, there was only one ancient chair in it and of course, it was occupied by the only dominant in the building. That wouldn’t bother anyone here, that was the way it was. 
 What rankled was the way he let his status as a dominant hang out, he surveyed the cleaning crew like he was some Shah looking over his harem. Well, she thought, let him have his fantasy as long as he kept his orders to himself. 
 She ate and watched as Jim held court, he was gregarious, laughing, but there was always a snide side to anything he said. Sue knelt beside him, taking bites whenever he thought to give her some of the pizza he held for himself, quiet. She’d not been allowed to speak to the other girls. Jim was speaking to the other girls. 
 She didn’t listen, it was some sort of Gorean stuff and she and her Master didn’t follow that lifestyle at all. Standing up from where she’d sat on the floor, she was surprised to be asked “Where are you going, slave?” as she dusted off her hands before heading back to get started. She looked at Jim, a little surprised, hell, a little shocked actually, but answered. “I’ve only got another hour, Sir, I want to get that back floor done.” She kept a civil tongue in her head, but it was difficult. Who the hell did he think he was? “It’s customary to ask permission before leaving, slave” His tone was antagonistic, oh boy, oh BOY! He was so lucky Daddy wasn’t here. She looked him straight in the eyes and spoke in a measured tone. “It is, and if my Master were here, I’d feel a need to do that. He isn’t, I don’t. That good enough for you, Jim?” She turned on her heel and left a room that basked in silence. She’d turned, yeah, but not before she’d seen his face go blood red with anger, seen Sue’s face settle into shock and worry. Angry, she dumped the filthy mop water and set about drawing fresh. Soap and hot water would clean anything, she’d always found. 
  Her mind fumed! Of course he’d never act like that if Daddy were with her. He wouldn’t dare! Daddy believed in respect and strict rules for dominants. He’d never pull off a show like the one Jim seemed to always delight in, either. Pulling the heavy bucket out of the sink, she set it down just as she heard footsteps come into the small utility room- Looking up she saw Jim standing in the doorway. He was wearing a sneer and a haughty expression. He wasn’t the neatest of men, wore a beard that could be better cared for and in general, he was a little seedy. “Can I help you, Jim?” She asked, steeling herself. Every slave knew times like this could happen. She desperately hoped though, that he just needed some of the detergent. 
 “It’s Master…” He made sure his body blocked the door. The room was tiny, just large enough for a big sink and a drain in the floor, a few shelves with cleaning supplies and forgotten utensils along the wall. “Can I help you, Master would be the correct way to address me. You know, we’ve known each other a long time. I’ve always wanted to see you on your knees in front of me.” There was a bright gleam to his eyes that made her back up a little. But only a little, her voice was heated as she answered him. “Only one man gets that word from me, a thing you should know since we’ve been acquainted for so long. Yeah? Me on my knees, in front of you? Get real big boy! I only kneel in front of one man. Now, are you going to let me out of here or am I going to have to stop being polite, JIM?” 
 He actually laughed at her and moved closer. His arm lifted and before she could do much more than pull her head back, he had her hair in his hand. “You sluts always say that shit, we all know what you really are….” and he yanked her hair. He touched her hair and her stomach exploded in anger! “LET GO!” 
 They’d both forgotten the mop in her hands. It was an archaic thing, one of those with a rusty, steel head that you screwed together. She wasn’t thinking she was just reacting and her arms jerked that heavy, wet thing up hard to fend him off. Anything to get his hand out of her hair. Water fell to the floor as the heavy mop head fairly flew up the inside of his leg, connected squarely with his balls. The little rusty wing nut ripped the fabric of his pants and she tried to stop herself from falling, pulled by his hand in her hair as he slipped backwards. He fell heavy on the wet floor and she fell forward, holding on to the mop desperately as she tried to stop herself falling on the fucking pig. He screamed and she stopped. There was blood coming from the rip in his pants and the head of the mop was planted firmly in his groin. She realized she still had all of her weight on that wooden handle, realized he was literally screaming in agony as he clutched the mop with both hands, trying to get it off of him. She regained her balance just as everyone in the damn  building came to see what the commotion was. Her head hurt, he’d ripped her fucking hair as he fell and everyone could see…. She’d might have felt embarrassed, but she was too angry to feel that. Coldly, she looked down at the man as Sue pushed in and went to her knees to minister to him. Blind woman, can’t she see, no matter, none of her business. 
 “This slut is OWNED you sonofabitch! Don’t you EVER forget that and don’t you EVER touch me again.” She pushed out of the room, pushed past the other girls, all of them nodding as she walked by, agreeing with her. Sue made her feel sad, maybe she was in love with the pig. She tempered her tone a little. “Sue, you might want to get him a tetanus booster. I’m sorry this shit happened.” Then she left. 
 She paused to grab her pocketbook and went to her car, drove home the long way. She had a lot to think about, needed time to calm down. 
 Later, she sat, happily tits out, on her master’s lap. She’d told him all about it and he’d listened, asking a few questions here or there. That was the cool thing, when she needed to talk, to get it off of her chest, Daddy listened. “Master, it was just so ugly. I felt it from the moment I walked in. I guess I didn’t want to think anyone we know and deal with could be like that! Now I don’t even want to go to the munch anymore.” 
 He nodded, his hand was a comfort, slowly petting her hair. He had that right, NOBODY touched her fucking hair but him! She purred a little under his touch, listening. 
 “But we will, we can’t let him be the only kind of dom those people see. You did well, pet. You did really well.” He kissed her and her heart flooded into warmth as a whisper followed. “I’m proud of you.” 
 Coffee time the next morning and he only grinned, showing her the paper as she stirred sugar into his, added milk, it was back on the police blotter page, a small article. 
 **An ambulance was called to a local address and an area man was hospitalized after a construction accident. Reports say he is stable after emergency surgery to repair damage to the groin and leg. Nothing further is known about the cause of the accident.** 
 He chuckled through a satisfied grin before sipping his coffee. 
 “I’d say he got his rocks…off! Karma. I love you” 
 And they laughed a small laugh together with his arm about her hips, starting… 
 Another day, in the life. 
 
 
 
 Come 'round for coffee. 
  She poured her guest the first cup of coffee, she'd chosen the brown mugs master liked so much to serve it in. This was an informal talk, a get to know you kind of thing. Pouring her own and looking past her pretty curtains, she smiled as a red breasted bird ate from the seed she'd put in her feeder this morning then turned her attention back to her guest as she sat down. She liked her coffee black. One of the things that she noticed aas they talked. She was here to notice things. 
 "Are you tired? How was the trip? Gosh, I haven't taken a train in, forever, I think." The woman, a submissive that she'd met quite awhile ago, was dressed in tasteful, comfortable vanilla wear. That's good, Master and she had definite ideas on the sort of people who were allowed into their special room. "Oh, no, I'm fine. I closed my eyes on the train for too long probably. Actually, I'm so excited to finally meet you, to finally be here that I couldn't close an eye at all. You're as beautiful as I thought you would be!" 
 Personally, she felt like a taste of sugar in her coffee today, stirring that in she set the spoon aside and sipped. "Oh gosh, I needed that. I love coffee. We're excited to have you here too." She got right to the meat of the matter. Master was a little more direct than she was in some things, but it was her charge to keep the door that led to his chair empty of poseurs and fakes. She found direct worked best. "You know, we don't invite just anyone. This isn't a swinger meeting." Wow, she was surprising herself a little. Her fingers toyed with her collar, the one she never, really, took off anymore, as she talked. "Master is very, not strict, although he is that." Her words trailed off and she saw the other woman nodding to what she was saying, speaking back during the pause. "I wouldn't travel to meet just anyone either." The concept she was looking for came to her as she looked at the calender. He liked inspirational sayings, they were all over the house, the word in a list of strengths to cultivate leaped out at her and she smiled, using it. "Certain, yeah, he's certain of what he likes, what he wants and how a slave is supposed to be. He'll expect you to meet his standards while you're here." She hurried to make an addendum, before taking another sip. "He's not an ogre by any means. Just very aware of what he wants." 
 The woman across from her made a face, tongue sticking, out and said in a fervent voice "Oh, GOOD! I could tell you stories! I mean, a girl who's searching for experiences, well, you meet all kinds, I can tell you. I've grown very leery about even trying to find any of this. I think, if your master hadn't let this happen between us, I think I'd have been too reticent to try with anyone else. It's a real comfort that we can talk first before I meet him." 
 His slave nodded with approval, there was a certain slave sense of humility in the girl's voice when she said "Him", that had to be there. She picked who got to train with them, he wanted it that way, and her master was no piece of generic meat that slapped any slut that came along. No, they had standards. She had standards and master trusted her to keep them.  
 "I hope this doesn't come across as too blunt, but master wants the big things taken care of right away and I tend to agree with him. You know we're not looking for a sister for me." She did know, there were probably ten million messages between her and the woman across from her on the net. But she liked things to be said, so there was no room for any misundersandings. "He won't do drama, he just won't. Back when we first married, there was this one girl, you should'a SEEN her, she came in looking like some sort of D/s pornstar and was going to take the place over!" She chuckled, remembering, thinking as she always did when she thought of that time, *What a stupid bitch* The woman across the table laughed, interjecting, "Oh, I know the sort..." as she told her through the laugh. "He grabbed her by the scrff of the neck, set her on the doorstep, told her he had no time for her kind of woman and then told me to throw her shit out. I did!" And they both laughed before the woman- Joan, her name was joan and she was feeling very friendly right now toward Joan, spoke up again. "Oh, now, I like that. That's a dominant I can respect!" And didn't that help the feeling of friendliness grow a little larger. 
 They talked about things, girl talk, slave talk as the morning progressed, the sun's rays moving across the floor as the level of coffee slowly sank in her carafe. She got up to make another pot and suddenly asked "Hey, would you like to see the room? I think we understand each other. I'm going to recommend he speak with you, but first you have to see the room! See if you like it." The coffee on, she walked over and took Joan's hand. "See if you like us. Come on, the coffee has to cook anyway. Suddenly, she was excited. Master and she were VERY picky, and she liked this woman. She liked her a lot. Of course, that wouldn't matter an iota if master didn't like her, but she felt pretty confident he would. She led her through the house to the "Room".  
 "Oh, wow, how cool!" came out of Joan's mouth as the door opened. She liked to decorate and Master liked hand tools. Their room had a sturdy leather couch and matching chair in it. A wooden floor under tasteful rugs and a table. Light, big windows and lots of light! He didn't want a cave, he said, and he let her take care of all that. The windows had blinds, for privacy, and they could be opened- for when they wanted to be seen. The fireplace had been installed awhile back and she was especially proud of it. It was a homey, unassuming river rock and mahogany mantel. "Come on in, take a look around." 
   
 
 
 Text: Kelly L. White Images: Kelly L. White Editing: Author All rights reserved. Publication Date: April 11th 2017 https://www.bookrix.com/-loresinger