by Jamie Knight
The airline's name was even fun to say. It sounded like a kind of song or possibly a sex act. Aer Lingus. Every time I thought of it, I smiled a bit. No wonder the Irish tended to sound so upbeat.
Adam had thought we could use a break. To get away from all the trouble and the drama for a while. He would be returning to his island after it had been cleansed of all evil influence.
I wasn't sure if I would, but I did like the sex swing and the cave was really cool. I really wouldn't know until I tried to go there again to see how it felt, post-filming. In the meantime, he wanted to take me to the island where he was born, which was isolated and safe to visit during the pandemic. But first, I was going to spend some time with my daughter and friend at home.
***
Two days later, the driver who arrived to pick me up had the same look of Shonna. Not in terms of physical appearance, but the same bulletproof stare, eyes hidden behind a pair of dark victors. What looked like a scar left from a passing bullet marked her left cheek.
“I.R.A.?” I asked Adam, who was already in the back seat.
“Garda, decommissioned,” he replied.
“Sir,” the driver said as we approached, the 'r' tumbling down a hill.
I was mesmerized. Her pale skin seemed to nearly glow under the fluorescent lighting. Her fire red hair was tied back in a severe bun. She held a sign reading LEARY in her hands.
“At ease, Imogen.”
She relaxed, if only a bit, and led the way out front to the sleek black limo. As we went, I noticed an odd sort of lump under her jacket at her waist. I didn't know much about such things, but I still knew a waist holster when I saw one. I didn't know exactly how it happened, but I realized that wanting to be surrounded by highly armed guards was just part of Adam's personality and something I would have to get used to.
Squeezed together on the back-facing seat, the window to the front firmly closed, we snuggled and kissed. It was wonderful. I was almost convinced that it was a dream. Only the clear, lush vividness of the Irish countryside rolling past the tinted windows told me it wasn't. I had never been to Ireland and it was far too beautiful to be made up.
“Master?”
“Yes, my pet?”
“Can we open a window?”
The window looking out over the valley rolled all the way down. Before Adam could stop me, I was hanging halfway out of the window, down to my belly. Turing to take in everything around me as it went by, Adam held onto my hips from within the car. Finally, he pulled me back in, the window whirring back into position.
“I am going to have to push you for that,” Adam said, giving me a squeeze.
“Oh, please do!” I enthused, remembering what his last 'punishment' had been like.
The road seemed interminably long and oddly steep. Rolling hills passed by on either side of us. I expected fairies to start flying around the car at any moment.
The house, a stone structure jutting up into a thatched roof, matched the surroundings. I dearly hoped that there would be a stone fireplace. I had always wanted to fuck in front of a stone fireplace.
“I'll call when I need you,” Adam said to Imogen, giving her what looked like a lot of money.
I wasn’t sure how much, though, because I didn't even understand the American exchange rate, let alone the Euro.
“Sir.”
The long car moved gracefully back down the hill. Adam watched it until it disappeared around a corner, as if he expected to go off the road at any moment.
Satisfied with Imogen's safe return to the highway, he turned to me. Pulling me over his shoulder, he held me down with one hand while picking up our luggage with the other and headed for the cottage, opening the door with a firm kick to the handle.
I loved it. It had been a while, and I was happy that my master decided to tie me up again. My wrists already behind my back, bound with silky rope, Adam was working on my legs. My legs were crossed at the ankles to keep them open. I would have asked how it was going, but the ball-gag made it difficult. If it was meant to be part of my punishment, I didn't mind at all.
The strike was hard and sudden. My body would have jerked if I'd had the room. I yelped, the sound muffled by the gag, a bright sting radiating in my ass.
There was another, similar strike on the other cheek with very much the same result. I could just imagine it. Big, crimson handprints raising on my skin. Adam's mark. Somehow, this made it easier to take.
He struck a few more times, the tears beginning to well in my eyes, when it stopped as suddenly as it began. His hands, once tools of pain, turned to caress my burning ass. They continued stroking and squeezing until I hummed with pleasure.
Keeping a hand on my back, he stroked me tenderly as he worked my pussy to five near-orgasms in a row with his other hand. Not until I was on the edge of a breakdown did he finally, mercifully, let me cum.
The resulting orgasm was so strong it was a struggle to keep consciousness, but I didn't want to stop yet. He cleaned me off and kissed me on the cheek. I figured my punishment for wanting to run off and stop the show was then at an end.
Letting me recover, my master started again. His hand was up to the second knuckle until I realized just how far he was planning to go. Taking a breath through my nose, I did my best to relax for him.
His hand slipped in with little trouble and before I knew it, I was screaming quietly, and thrashing around as much as I could, as squalls of pleasure tossed me about in their mighty current. I struggled to stay focused, lest I drown.
When I had come down from my high, Adam was still kissing me. He put me into the bed, with another tray of tea beside it. I was a bit disappointed I couldn't last longer for him but also very satisfied and sure we would do it again.
“Morgan?”
I turned from pouring myself some tea, to see Adam by the bed. He had his serious face on and was down on one knee. I was just about to ask what the heck he was doing there when he brought the small, velvet covered box from behind his back.
“Oh!”
“Morgan LaFey. I said I cared about you but I meant I loved you. I would do anything for you, give up anything to be with you. Will you do me the profound honor of being my wife?”
“Yes!” I exclaimed, so happy I could die. “Yes, of course! I love you, too. Always and forever.”
Epilogue
Morgan
The wedding was in autumn. Spring was, of course, the cliche, but both Freya and I had wicked hay fever and I did not want to be sneezing as I walked down the aisle.
It also gave me the opportunity to wear my great-grandmother's wedding dress, a long-sleeved Victorian thing with about four levels of skirting especially designed to conceal the bride's assets until the honeymoon.
For some reason I really believed that a bit of modesty was in order on my wedding day. It also worked wonders when it came to hiding my baby bump.
My parents hadn’t liked the idea of me being on the TV show or marrying an older man, but they had eventually come around to it. Hence my being allowed to wear this dress. I nodded at them as they were seated in the audience, and they beamed at me proudly.
The organist wasn't able to get his instrument out into the grove and Adam refused to go anywhere near a church, so we had to settle for an accordionist. It was untraditional, for sure, but definitely earned us points for originality. As did the tune the musician played. Unfamiliar with the Wedding March, he argued, quite strenuously, for the Imperial March, before compromising with “Ode to Joy.”
The vows were said, the cake was cut, the flower girl – Freya, of course – was hiding under the refreshment table making friends with the local snake population, and we were all gathered into the royal banquet room that Adam had paid top dollar for.
Except for my walk down the aisle, he had never left my side. His was hand on some part of my body the entire time. I was his and we both knew it.
There were cameras there, of course. I thought for sure Adam had burned the whole operation
to the ground with his hack attack, but he was a lot smarter than that. It was really just a matter of waiting for Murdoch to go to prison for his fraud and then sending a carefully edited season’s worth of episodes directly to Sara, along with a bank transfer in the amount of all the cameras we smashed. I actually gasped when he told me the amount.
Who Wants to Lock Down a Billionaire? turned out to be a surprise hit during the pandemic, an even bigger sensation than anyone working on it could have anticipated. Sometimes I watched episodes online, although I tried to avoid the comments, which were full of jealousy.
However, there was one from someone named Dallas, who said that she had known of Adam’s “skills” back in the day and that I was a lucky girl to have won not only his choice of girls to quarantine with, but also his heart. When I read that comment, I was the one who became a bit jealous.
When I asked Adam about it, he said she had indeed been a “pet” of his in the distant past, before he had ever met me, but that all of that was over now. Not only had I been his choice for the show, but also for life. I had locked down his heart and there was no going back to his old ways.
It was true that he and I had a very special bond indeed. And I was glad that now that the pandemic had ended due to a safe vaccine, we could celebrate our love with everyone.
Speeches were made, but I didn’t pay enough attention to them. I was too busy keeping Freya away from her new “friends” and basically blinded by love for Adam. It took Astrid actually tapping me on the shoulder for me to notice even her.
“You were right,” she said.
“Always a good way to start a sentence,” I teased her.
“I’m serious! You were right about - things. I’m glad you followed your heart. And not just because eating this slice of your wedding cake borders on a religious experience.”
“That’s pretty much what I said the first time I had it,” Adam said.
“You’re cool, Adam. Take care of her, yeah?”
“That’s high praise from Astrid, you know,” I said, nudging Adam.
“I figured, yeah.”
Soon, the public celebration was over, and the cameras were turned off. That officially wrapped up the filming of the last episode of the show.
It had been quite an experience, and I was glad I had listened to Astrid and gone on it so that I could meet Adam. But I was even more glad that it was all over and now we could live in the regular world again. Of course, we’d always be in the public eye to some extent – fodder for gossip tabloids – but at least we wouldn’t have to worry about entertaining an audience with every aspect of our daily lives.
Freya was sent off with Astrid after the reception. The private jet took Adam and me to where we both wanted to be. The island looked different as we approached. Not worse, but slightly less impressive. I guess you really could get used to anything, even a private island paradise, with enough exposure.
The plane touched down gently. The pilot was an honorably discharged RAF pilot, and rolled to a halt.
The car was already parked by the airstrip as we went down the stairs. Adam was in the front. I was pretty sure he would have carried me down, were it possible. I was somewhat surprised to see Imogen get out of the driver's side and stand her post by the back door.
“She needed a break, so I asked if she wanted a job,” Adam said.
“Good idea,” I agreed.
The mansion looked very much the same. Except that an in-ground pool had been added, and more stables, for extra horses.
“I thought Freya would like the new additions,” Adam told me.
“Ummm, yeah,” I agreed, really too stunned to say anything else.
“I’m having a fence put up around the pool because I don’t want either of our babies accidentally walking or crawling in there. The contractors are supposed to come while we’re on our honeymoon and Astrid is watching Freya.”
“Awesome,” I told him, so happy about everything.
I was so excited for our new baby to arrive. And I liked how he called Freya “ours.” We already had the adoption paperwork in motion, but to him, it was like it was already official.
Adam had made an app that pulled in every single newspaper and media outlet in the country and then blasted out a reward notification for the whereabouts of Freya’s dad. He made sure to mention that no child support would need to be paid if he would only contact us, and that all that we wanted was for him to sign divorce papers and the adoption papers allowing Adam to adopt Freya.
That sure got his attention, because after all that time, the divorce was finally finalized. And the adoption was in the works.
It all turned out so much better than I could have hoped, as Freya’s biological father agreed to everything, glad to be off the hook. Freya knew Adam better than she had ever known her bio dad, since she was literally a newborn when he left. I knew that she adored Adam and considered him her father. This arrangement would just make the whole thing legal and was best for everyone involved.
The house really did feel like it could be our forever home now. Schooling for the kids might be a bit of a challenge, but we could commute. Or there was always the option of private tutors.
As soon as I was through the door, my feet were off the floor. Adam swooped me up and carried me to the stairs. I didn’t resist letting my new husband whisk me away to our now marital bed.
We had talked about it before and, while we both loved exploring BDSM, of course, we agreed not to get too intense while I was pregnant. That didn't mean we couldn't still have lots of fun, though.
“I thought we might try something different,” Adam said, laying me on the bed.
“What's that, Master?”
“Well, it is our wedding night, and while neither of us are virgins in any way, shape or form, it should still be special.”
“I’m with you so far.”
“So, what I’m going to do to you, my sweet little pet, is something I have never done with anyone before.”
“What's that, Master?” I asked, trembling with anticipation.
“I am going to fuck you vanilla style.”
I wasn't quite sure what that meant, but he soon made himself clear. Patiently extracting me from the dress so I was completely bare, Adam gave me a full body massage. Every inch of muscle relaxed to the point where I could barely lift my head.
His strong hands felt so good on my skin as they kneaded my back, neck, legs and feet. He kissed my neck and my lips, passionately saying he loved me.
When I was ready, he gently turned me onto my back, opening my legs. Caressing his way back up my quivering thighs, he worked my pussy with his fingers, and then his tongue, to three orgasms in a row.
Stroking me calmly, he kissed his way down from my neck to my pussy and gave me a long, tender lick with his tongue, covering the entire length and most of the width of my cunt. I was just about to burst when he stopped and coaxed me to a gentle orgasm with his thumb.
When I was ready, my darling master took off his clothes. His beautiful cock was already quite hard as he mounted me.
Holding my hands above my head, he kissed me softly as he slid the head of his cock inside me. I let out a soft moan as it pressed right on my clit and then gasped as he pushed in, sliding easily into my wet pussy. I wanted him so much!
Lightly nibbling my neck, Master started to pump, working rhythmically inside me. He made me feel better than I had during any of our previous times together, even while fucking me gently and softly. It was a good thing we were married, seeing as how he had completely ruined me for every other man in existence. As his cum filled my pussy, all I could think was how I had never been so in love.
Adam
A year later, I was rocking our son, Malachi, to try to put him to sleep. Freya wanted a bedtime story, so I read her Goodnight, Moon, as she shared my lap with her baby brother. His eyes were wide awake, looking at the colorful pictures for most of the book, until he finally drifted off right at the end.
> It was quite a feat for me to put him into his crib and then carry Freya to her room so I could tuck her in next. But I didn’t want to disturb Morgan by asking for her help. Not while she was getting ready for our first date since Malachi had been born.
“Everything good in here?” Astrid whispered, as she peeked her head into Freya’s room.
“More than good,” I said back, nodding at my daughter, who was sound asleep.
And everything really had turned out more than good. I had officially adopted her, we had had an uneventful but exciting delivery of Malachi, and now Morgan and I had settled into married life as the parents of two children.
“I appreciate you watching them while we go away,” I told Astrid gratefully, as we walked back down the hallway together.
“Anytime,” she said. “I appreciate you making my best friend so happy.”
“Ready?” my wife asked, coming out to greet us in the living room, wearing a gorgeous gown, with her hair spun up into curls.
“More than ready,” I told her, winking. “You look amazing.”
“Why, thank you, so do you.” She nodded towards my tux, which I hoped hadn’t gotten any baby spittle on it.
Soon, we were in the back of my private jet and I was taking off the fancy dress she planned to wear to our dinner in a different city soon and tying her to one of the seats, free to be as freaky with her as I wanted, since she wasn’t pregnant or in recovery after childbirth. I took off my tie and used it to restrain her hands, with her back facing me and her gorgeous, plump ass on display for me.
“So, this is how you want to kick off our date, husband?” she asked me.
“That’s Master to you,” I corrected her.
“Oh. Sorry. Master.”
“And yes, my pet, this is exactly how I want to kick it off.”
I took off my pants and underwear and held my cock up against her ass. It was already hard, but spanking it all around her ass checks, rubbing it against her crack and down her thighs and up on the small of her back made it bulge bigger than I thought I’d ever seen it before. And I know it also turned her on to a similar affect.