He nodded approvingly and turned her to face him. “Very nice, I like it.” He kept eye contact with her and continued, “Do you have a new razor?” Peter's voice was still calm.
Evelyn did not know why she trusted him, but she did, yet the request for a razor presented a new level of trust. Never had she had such an experience. Every fibre in her being, said this is not how couples made out, she should resist, yet in the same breath it felt so right to submit to this man's will. She felt like she was on a rollercoaster ride, nervous, yet at the same time excited beyond words.
Evelyn handed the razor to Peter.
He smiled reassuringly, “You don't need to look so worried.” He kissed her on her lips, “I am not going to hurt you.” He held her by the waist and kissed her tenderly again.
She melted into his kiss. She felt relieved at the normality of this one simple natural act.
It was Peter that broke the kiss. He looked deeply into her eyes and said, “You really are a very special lady.” She bubbled over with emotions. Tears welled in her eyes. All she wanted right then was to be with Peter, to do anything he wanted her to do, regardless of what it might be. Anything!
With a last kiss, Peter knelt before her. He had lathered a bar of scented soap and was massaging the foam into her pubis. She felt his hands, strong yet gentle, pressing on her delicate flesh. She felt cherished and pampered. She exulted in her desire. He was her Master. Her body was his to do with as he wanted and it was as she accepted that her body was in Peter's control that he began to shave off her already closely trimmed pubic hair.
She looked down intently, relaxed yet fascinated as she watched his nimble fingers part her petals, opening her to the blade. His hands were steady and deftly every hair was removed, as he shaved her smooth.
Peter moved back to admire his work and smiled. “I much prefer your treasure in the open rather than hiding in the shadows. I wish you to keep yourself smooth from now on."
"Yes Sir."
She stood looking down helplessly, as Peter leaned forward and kissed her clit, holding her morsel between his lips. Holding her hips, he feasted with lips and tongue, teasing her pearl from the shell. The feeling was so intense, the contact so immediate she could do nothing but cum under his ministrations. She screamed and convulsed, as the spasms tore through her. Every nerve ending was alive. The release so complete, she would have collapsed if he had not been holding her. She felt spent, totally drained and totally relaxed. Peter swept her up in his arms and carried her to the adjoining bedroom. He let Evelyn rest as he removed his own clothes. As his speech, he did not hurry to remove his clothes. He was precise, and after removing each item, it was folded and put neatly on the back of a bedroom chair. Evelyn was captivated by this tall handsome man, so measured in his actions. She watched him strip and all the time he looked at her.
He thumbed down his last garment and his erect penis sprang out. Evelyn observed that he was a full seven inches long and was more than average in girth. She also noticed immediately that although he had a downy covering of hair on his chest, his groin was shaved smooth. She could not take her eyes of his magnificent erect phallus. She wondered what it would feel like inside her, wondered at the taste of his semen.
Peter crossed to her. “I think you are recovered enough,” he smiled, as he looked down at her.
"May I ask a question, Sir?” her eyes were fixed to his firm body.
"Of course."
"I thought I was to serve you?” her eyes were warm and there was a glow still on her cheeks.
"You will serve me, and you will serve me all the better now that your lust has been sated.” His hand idly toyed with his erect penis. “You were burning with lust my pet. Now you will serve me with your full attention on my needs.” He walked to where she sat on the edge of the bed. “And you will start by paying homage to my cock.” He offered the head to her lips and she opened to receive him.
Peter was large but not uncomfortably so. Evelyn ran the tip of her tongue over his satin dome. She licked and sucked his member taking it, little by little, deeper into her mouth. She wanted to give Peter as much pleasure as he had given her; she wanted to give him more. She understood then, the logic of Peter's earlier action. Her head rose and sunk on his shaft. She made her lips tight for him covering her teeth, so as not to nip him.
Up to this point, Peter had let her set the pace, but now she felt his needs taking over. She felt his big firm hands cradling the back of her head and felt him began to rock back and forth. It was not unpleasant and she held her mouth still as he fucked her. She heard him moan as he took his pleasure. His rhythm and depth of stroke increased. She could feel the thrust of his length travel within her mouth, suddenly the strokes changed to short sharp thrusts and she knew he was drawing close. One deep thrust and he remained still. Evelyn could feel him pulse, as she received his liquid gift.
They cuddled for a while naked on the bed, in the spoons position, his cock between the cheeks of her bottom, his arms wrapped around her. She felt warm, safe and loved. As they drifted off to sleep, Evelyn reviewed the evening's events.
She had agreed without reservation, she had surprised herself with this. Normally she was assertive, but she felt great comfort in submitting to Peter. It felt like she had discovered her true nature in the submission, and she felt stronger knowing that Peter was there. This was their first time together as lovers and yet she felt like she had known him forever, felt like she would do anything for him. She felt like she was his and only his. In an instant, she thought of her previous lovers and realized no one had ever made her feel this way. She knew at that point, that Peter was the one for her.
Over the coming months, Evelyn gave more and more of herself to Peter. His control was like a drug; the more she had the more she wanted. Peter provided the focus to her daily life. Even when they were parted, it was like he was with her in spirit. She loved the way that he would choose her clothing for the day. He would decide what they would eat. Some people would find it troubling or oppressive to have someone decide. Evelyn found her day a brighter place knowing that she served Peter. She found a profound sense of comfort and shelter in Peter's love.
The internet showed a world of those who lead and those who follow, gladly and willingly. People in the know called it the scene and it was a world filled with dominants and submissives.
She had been terrified, the first time Peter took her to a dominance and submission club, but once there she saw it as just a place where like-minded people came to hang out. Evelyn spent more time in the company of other submissives. Listening to their stories made her feel more at home with this new lifestyle that she heard them refer to as the scene. The easy matter-of-fact way they described their own service made her more comfortable with this way of life than she had ever been in the vanilla world.
As her experience and confidence grew, she found her love for Peter growing. She found herself stopping during the course of the day thinking of what he might be up to. Her life seemed focused around his wants and needs. She began to anticipate things that he might like. As he lay out the clothes he wished her to wear, she made sure he was well turned out, taking a delight in polishing his shoes, even ironing shirts was no longer a chore, for it was for her Master. Listening to the other subs, she found new ways to verbalize their relationship and she learned to speak of their love. She heard other subs call their Doms Master, and she liked the term. To her ears, it sounded loving and respectful and she wanted to please her master so much. She would never forget the way Peter's face lit up the first time she had called him Master. She loved the way it sounded and it was a title she called him gladly. She could not conceive of her life without her Master in complete control. This was no abusive slave relationship. The power he had she gave him freely.
They shared, what they came to refer to as training sessions, where Peter would introduce her to new things like nipple clamps and toys and plugs. Together they would sit and trawl the internet and Peter w
ould explain the significance of the lifestyle in their daily lives. Each new experience brought them closer together physically and spiritually.
It took a year with the help of books, videos, and the internet, for Peter to help her come to grips with the complexity of the scene. They talked passionately for hours long into the night. Evelyn loved the way he taught her. It was done with love and affection. Each session was slow and unhurried. It was consensual, he had always insisted on that.
She remembered a time when he wished her to go though the next stage and meet other Doms and subs in the flesh. She was terrified.
He had spent hours preparing her, dressing her to the nines, in stockings and a tight leather corset. Yet, despite all the preparations, he had asked her if she wanted to go in. It was her free choice. And she loved him for that.
It was with that love, she gathered her courage and went into the gathering, that she later found out they call a munch. She and Peter became regulars for a while and she observed close hand all manner of things that were new to her, the art of Japanese bondage, suspension, piercing, scarification, all manner of different forms of corporal punishment and secretly she wished it were she that felt the taste of the whip and crop.
Every aspect of her life Peter made his masterly presence felt. Evelyn remembered the day a bouquet of roses had been delivered to her private office. The delivery boy entered and presented her the bouquet of a dozen roses. Her heart had leapt for joy, a present from her master, a token of his love for her. She sniffed the rose. The fragrance matched its beauty. She turned her attention to the card and smiled when she read; For you my darling, you serve me so beautifully well, now as a token of your service to me, I wish you to remove your panties and give them to the delivery boy. Without a doubt, the boy had read the card, if the smirk on his face was anything to go by. How could she do anything but comply? As embarrassed as she was and with as much dignity as she could muster, she wiggled out of her panties and handed them to the young man. He thanked her and left and she was left to think about it for the rest of her working day.
These games were more than a little embarrassing, yet they were a fun part of their relationship and she loved them. She loved the comfort she found in his control and the shelter within his power. The more he asked of her, the more she wanted to give. Peter was experienced in this way of life, although only two years older, at thirty-five he had the self-confidence to know what he wanted. Evelyn felt secure; it was as if she had waited her life for him.
After the visits to the munches, Peter introduced her to the kaleidoscope of things she has seen demonstrated in the club. These would challenge her perceptions of what was right and wrong in relationships. At this time, there were so many firsts, the night she had submitted to bondage, her first spanking, the bite of nipple clamps, and the myriad of toys, whips and floggers, all for their mutual pleasure. Evelyn learned not to tease Peter, as that would surely not work out as she had planned.
Occasionally she had tried to get the upper hand but try as she might she never did. She remembered teasing him one day, keeping him in a state of excitement, and then informing him that sadly it was the wrong time of the month. It had been her way of trying to turn the tables on her Master, but Peter did not flinch. He took a coin from his pocket and flipped it. “Now we will see. Heads or Tails” and with the tails side of the coin showing, another first, was added to her list. Sodomy. It was new to her, but she trusted her Master completely and submitted freely to this new act.
Day by day, week by week and as month followed month, Peter took Evelyn to her very limits, and she went there willingly. She was his and wanted nothing else.
Over dinner one night Peter had said, “My pet, this is my nature, and I believe this is in your nature too, although as people we are free and equal, our nature leads us to a different reality. I believe you feel the same and instinctively know what I am saying. It is my belief you wish to serve me, as much as I wish you to serve."
Peter opened a small black velvet box. Inside was a short gold chain, in the middle of which was a small amulet inscribed with an ornately inscribed letter P. “my pet, this is for you, I would like to marry you, but it is fair for you to know, truly know, my heart's desire. With this chain, you will serve me, as I will cherish, protect, and nurture you. In the marriage service, they use the words love, honor and obey. In the world, I want us to live in; I want those words to be very literal. I wish you to honor and obey me, and with that, I pledge myself only to you. Will you take this chain? Will you serve me and only me, will you marry me?"
Then as now, a tear trickled down her cheek and she said aloud, as she had done then, “I will.” Plain and simple, yet profound. She wanted nothing more. With his proposal and her acceptance, her life was complete.
There seemed no end to this golden time. Yet, like all golden times, it had to end and when it did, it crushed her.
The thought buzzed through her mind and a tear rolled down her cheek. A golden time, but that had been four years ago. And here she was now, driving through the night.
The lights cut through the night, lighting trees and flickering across the houses, which were scattered sparsely throughout this part of the countryside. The hotel had been built in the middle of nowhere and the remoteness had been the reason they had picked it for their honeymoon, all those years ago.
She knew she was drawing close to her destination, although time had taken it toll on the landscape. The road lacked the quaintness it once had and the small shrines situated on sharp bends, gave testimony to how much more dangerous the roads had become over the years. There was the old mailbox once a bright red, now faded to a drab grey. An old oak tree who's once majestic lower branches, were now loped off. There were more than a dozen markers she used to navigate this journey and though the landmarks were older and shabbier, they were still unmistakable. She had never been great at navigation, especially out of town but although remote, she had never had any difficulty finding Woodside Manor.
There was a small crest to a hill before the approach to the Manor. Evelyn caught her breath as the lights played across the building, lighting the two majestic towers that flanked either side of the castellated top of the main building.
Woodside manor had once been an exclusive country club, owned by an oil tycoon. No expense had been spared on its original construction. It had enjoyed a second life as a luxury hotel, but successive owners, had let it fall into disrepair.
Evelyn's sleek, burgundy-colored Jaguar turned off the main road and up the long, winding, tree lined driveway, which led to the hotel. As she approached, her lights swung across the faded façade that had once been a gleaming white. There was a fountain in the middle of a large doughnut shaped parking area. It was once lit and the jets of water then had been bathed in colored light. Now it was dark and the water danced no more. The water was green and stagnant and the ornamental statue in the centre of the pond was covered with a thick moss concealing that it had once been an attractive lady holding a Greek urn.
From the first time she had visited the manor she had loved the place. The opulence of the frontage had always reminded her of the set in the film Gone with the Wind. The building seemed steeped in southern colonial elegance. She felt a little saddened to see this grand building, now so down at heel. The gardens too, what she could see of them, were a faded reminder of what had once been.
Woodside Manor was no longer the prestigious venue for millionaires and playboys; it had faded, as all things fade in time.
The tires crunched to a halt and Evelyn sat in the car, with the engine still running. She touched the amulet at her throat. The chain was short enough to draw comment. A close friend had once said that the medallion on such a short collar resembles a dog's collar. The comment had made Evelyn smile and she drew her own comparison with the ownership of her as the beloved pet. Of course, a vanilla world could not see what it was, it simply made them curious. She fingered the decorative rose gold P and she thought of he
r service and what the collar represented.
She turned the key and the car's quiet hum fell silent. Evelyn sat still in the car, aware of the gifts she wore in honor of Peter. Conflict swirled in her mind. In the dark, her fingers fiddled with the car door latch. It clicked and swung open, but as she left the car, she went cold, as she thought of her husband James. Another wave of guilt tore through her. After all James had done for her, how could she do this to him? How could she betray him like this? Yet her passion for her Master was strong.
Her mind turned over the argument; she felt a strong commitment to both men. In a way, she had betrayed Peter in marrying James. Peter had been her Master for many years before she had known James. Her loyalties ran deep with both men. She loved them both. She would do anything for James, except this one thing, this one day of the year she must honor the vows she had made to her Master. How she wanted Peter. This was beyond animal lust, though in truth she felt that too, this was a bond. She had a commitment to Peter that no mortal could break. She knew no matter what, Peter loved her as deeply as she loved him.
She sat in the car gathering her thoughts for a brief moment, pondering her next move, although the choice had already been made. The choice had been made the day she said, "I do” to Peter.
The time of doubt was over. There was a way of getting out of the Jaguar that was more graceful than others. She had become quite expert at doing it. Keeping her knees together, she swung her legs around so she still sat on the seat, but now with her feet on the graveled car park. Then she stood. The alternative method of getting out of a low sports car, especially wearing a short skirt, was far too revealing.
Locking the car, she took the opportunity to take a closer look around the car park. Evelyn caught her breath, as she saw Peter's black sports car, with an ominous dent in the front driver's side wing. She walked over to the car and felt the contours of the indentation. She realized, as she ran her hand along the distorted shape of the depression, that the sleek paintwork had not even been broken. Her feelings turned to warmth, as she smiled, thinking back to that happy day when Peter first showed her the car. It was gleaming new, with just the showroom miles on the clock. He was like a small boy with a new toy, eager to show the trivial gadgets that please men so much in their toys. With a last stroke of the paintwork, she turned to the hotel.
The Crimson Z Page 14