Spontaneous Combustion

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  He kissed her several times in that light, delicate way he had with his soft lips, then bore down harder with their mouths opening wide. He didn’t touch her otherwise, didn’t bring her into his arms as she would have liked, and when he finally backed off, he placed a hand on her shoulder and said, as he gently pushed her to the floor, “Now you can kneel for me.”

  There was a thick rug beneath her feet, covering a section of hardwood floor in front of a fieldstone fireplace. Once her knees sank to the carpet, he backed up two feet and sat down in a well-worn leather club chair – what she expected any University professor would have in his home. There was the scent of firewood in the air, along with wood polish and something citrusy, lemon oil, she guessed, and several stacks of books, most of them within reach of his chair for easy access. There was a table, bookcases, chairs, though she’d remember little else from the first cursory glance. She could have studied every feature and memorized the details of every item, but once she settled into her kneeling position and caught Jack’s glance, her attention fixated solely on her master and the rest of the room seemed to vanish.

  “You look a little overdressed,” he said, as he viewed his kneeling sub. Already she could feel the rooted vibration of his dominant presence envelope her body. The feeling washed through her like a drug. If she had any doubt that he was master and she was slave, this feeling alone was enough to confirm the fact.

  And now he wanted her to undress.

  She bit her lip, momentarily flustered by his veiled command. Although she’d stripped for him twice before, it was like that first time all over again. Nervous shivers. A blushing face. Not to mention she was on her knees, in his house and more self-conscious than ever. Smiling warily, she lifted her tee shirt over her head, then reached back and unhooked her bra, her eyes gazing into Jack’s, her cheeks beginning to blush as she stared into his inscrutable face. As her bra fell away, she looked down at the nipple ties seeing them messy and forlorn. Though when she attempted to straighten them, Jack stopped her.

  “Don’t worry about them now, just finish taking off your clothes. I need you naked, slave.” The urgency in his voice was enough to get her moving, although her efforts to remove the shorts and panties were awkward and graceless. The red blush deepened on her cheeks, and her body was so fired up with anticipation that she could feel herself beginning to sweat. The aroma of her crotch rose up to greet her. For heaven’s sake! Why so jittery and raw now? As if she hadn’t been before.

  Jack had a way of unhinging her, taking the mature, rational woman she believed herself to be and turning her into a mess of emotions, undisguised lust and embarrassment. Weirdly, this was just the kind of feeling that appealed to the submissive in her, even if it briefly left her half-crazed.

  Jack finally saved her further discomfort. “Well, you have me horny now, slave.” He needn’t say more; she couldn’t get to his crotch fast enough. As soon as her mouth was filled with his warm, throbbing erection, all her anxieties were swept away. The aroma of his body soothed her; his rooted energy settled her down. She felt as if she were home, right where she belonged, on her knees, between his legs, bringing that stiff cock to a happy finale. As his warm, sweet cum jetted into her mouth, she swallowed all she could, smiling as she did. Once she was finally done, she lifted her head and sat back on her heels and sighed. With one glance at her glistening face, Jack handed her a handkerchief to wipe the residual cum from her mouth.

  “I think you needed that as much as I did,” he said.

  “I think you’re right, Master.”

  She was panting and still a little breathless when he pulled her into his arms and onto his lap, where his fingers went straight to her pussy.

  “So now to you,” he said. He fingered her clit with just a simple tease to start, and she squirmed against that finger, feeling his energy shoot up through her body. Then he inserted that finger in her cunt. “This your g-spot?” Yes. Right there. Right where he stroked, and teased and rubbed.

  “Yes, Master,” she gasped, as her body instantly responded, “you can do that all day long.”

  Within seconds, those skillful fingers had her writhing fitfully against his hand. “Ohmygodyes!” She seized up several times, saying, “Yes, yes, Master. I need to cum, Sir, please!”

  “You wait until I tell you,” he backed her off.

  “Oh, but that’s not fair!” she whined.

  “This has nothing to do with fair, slave.” His voice was brusque and masterful.

  “Please, Master.” She set her eyes on his with a hopeful look, though there was a glint of evil in his eyes – he liked denying her way too much. She ground her pussy into his hand, unable to contain the orgasmic feeling. “Please…” she tried again.

  He looked at her solemnly and she was caught in his unwavering stare. “You want to come, slut?”

  “You know I do!”

  As his fingers continued with the torturous tease, he stared into her eyes. She thought he’d make her wait forever – although it was just a few seconds before he finally said, “Then come.”

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, she let go that first climactic spasm, and her juices spurt out over his hand. Barely able to control her orgasming body, she clung to him as she seized up another half dozen times more before she finally took a breath. And then because he kept on fingering her hot wet hole and thrusting his fingers into her cunt, he had her cumming hard again, spasm after spasm until she thought the spasms would never end.

  Finally, she pulled back seeing Jack staring at her with dispassionate interest. She loved the way his cool demeanor made her feel, the way it distanced them and, at least on a sexual level, reminded her that they were not equals in this relationship. Was this all just a mind-game? A stellar demonstration of the power of their imagination? She knew it had to be more than that. Something arising from their sexual nature that was basic to them both, creating such urgent desire and desperate wanting. No, this was no game. This was real.

  “You had enough?” he finally asked.

  “I never have enough of you,” she said as her mind drifted off into subspace.

  He gave her ass cheek a sharp smack. “I meant enough cumming.”

  She blushed again. “Yes, Master.”

  He held her several seconds more, with his commanding energy pouring into her body and generating a fresh wave of desire. This time however, there was something about the desire that was more sensuous and affectionate than orgasmic. The feeling didn’t just stir her body, but hit her squarely in the heart, and if she hadn’t purposefully reined in the emotion she might have teared-up. When he finally released his hold, she dropped down to the carpet between his legs, and there she stayed, resting her head on his knee.

  “Thank you, Master.” This time, Master rolled off her tongue without her giving it much thought.

  Feelings of surrender bloomed within her, while a dozen scenes swept before her inner eyes – her mind filing though all the dark places he would take her – spanking, whipping, bondage, humiliation. She wanted him to drive her deeper into her kink as he took control, and with that idea swirling through her thoughts, her mind suddenly kicked in, offering up an act of surrender that hadn’t crossed her mind in a long while. Now it nagged at her with such urgency that she couldn’t push it away.

  “I want you to slap my face,” she spit out before she could stop herself. When she saw his reaction – something between alarm and curiosity – she immediately regretted that slap my face. “Not hard enough to hurt me but hard enough to feel the sting.”

  “I’m not sure how I feel about that,” he said, “but I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Keep it in mind…had he filed the information away for later or discarded it entirely?

  At the moment, he was restless. “How about we take a look around the yard?”

  He moved to his feet and so did she, though when she reached down to grab her clothes, he stopped her. “Leave them here. You can do this naked, though y
ou’ll need your sandals. Don’t want your bare feet torn up on the gravel path.”

  She slipped her feet into her sandals and moved with him through a door in the living room that opened to a raised wooden terrace and the rest of the yard. Jack took her hand as he led her along the paths around the Koi pond, over a Japanese bridge at the far end, then deeper into the woods.

  Jeni was barely with him. Her body and mind were still swimming in the sensations of the last half hour and that spectacular cum. But every molecule in her body was wide open to the world she saw – the flowers, the forest floor thick with ferns, and the trees were just part of this beautiful dream. Oh, the trees! She could have wrapped her arms around any one of them and just remained there with the strength of that tree moving through her. What bliss that would be!

  As they strolled together through a stand of tall pines, her eyes began to focus. Instead of a beautiful blur, each tree and flower and plant stood out before her eyes. She was awed by what he’d created here. How he’d kept the landscape natural, while summertime flowers were blooming where he scattered perennials amidst the trees.

  Naked glory. Like she was naked now.

  The sudden reality of naked woke her up from what remained of the dreamy trance.

  Jeni wasn’t used to naked in the out-of-doors, and some inhibitions are hard to shake. But the sun, the air, and the gentle afternoon breeze filtering through trees, made her flesh come alive and her skin tingly and raw – even if the experience was increasingly unsettling.

  “You know this isn’t easy,” she finally spoke, “I don’t do naked out-of-doors very well.”

  “You’ll get used to it,” he said. “When it’s warm enough, I don’t see any reason for you to be anything but naked. When you’re with me, of course.”

  She let that thought sink in. “Then I guess I’ll get used to it.”

  He smiled, and squeezed her hand.

  As their walk continued, the conversation shifted, and Jack began a long monologue about his woods and trees and plants, all of which was fascinating. There was so much to take in that she wouldn’t remember it all, but the passion with which he spoke made an impact. He wasn’t a particularly demonstrative man, never would be, but the feeling in his voice shifted as he talked about what he’d created in this tiny oasis revealing a piece of him she’d not yet glimpsed.

  “It’s one of the most peaceful and pretty places I’ve ever seen. I love the flowers. Hard to believe we’re in the middle of the city. You did this all yourself?”

  He nodded. “It’s taken a couple years and a lot of work, but it pretty much takes care of itself now.”

  “You have quite a flair for landscape design.”

  “Thanks. When I have a chance sometime, I’ll identify some of the plantings for you. There are some rare, exotic ones I’m pretty excited about.” He turned toward her, “Interesting for a botanist I guess, maybe not a writer.”

  “But I am interested,” she said. “Everything is fuel for my muse. You never know, this garden could pop up in one of my stories.” Her eyes glittered darkly, with her mind immediately taking a naughty turn. Every fallen log was a place to be bent over and spanked – or fucked; every rough tree trunk a whipping post, every whippy sapling a potential implement of torture. Everything around her became erotic, including the feel of Jack’s warm palm against her own.

  Deep into the trees, he suddenly stopped and pushed her against the trunk of a maple tree.

  “You must have been reading my mind!” she laughed, then she fell into the scratchy bark and began to move on it as if it were a lover.

  Jack stepped back to watch. “Go ahead and dance against it, wench. Your ass looks damn hot. You getting aroused again?”

  “Yes, I am, Master…” she could have said more, but her body seemed to speak for her.

  This was the first time she remembered him making any comment about how she looked; he dished out compliments sparingly, but this certainly sounded like one.“You’re quite the slut.” He finally moved in and smacked her ass a dozen times. The sound of his hand on her flesh rebounded off the trees and echoed back. Then he abruptly pulled her off that rough lover and their walk continued until they returned to the terrace, having made an entire circle of the property and woods.

  Jack stepped up on the decking where several chairs, a small settee and tables were randomly scattered around the irregularly shaped terrace. Pulling a cushion from one of the chairs, he tossed the dark green tufted pillow to his feet.

  “There’s a matter of slave business we need to deal with,” he informed her. “You’ll do this on your knees.”

  Slave business? Her insides were in a sudden panic.

  After having settled into such a sensuous and dreamy state of mind and body, the swift shift in Jack’s attention, back to the subject of her slavery, had her more than a little nervous. She shuddered so deeply as she carefully knelt on the cushion that she almost lost her balance, and in fact, had to use a close by table to steady herself until the dizzying sensation passed. Even then, her body was flushed with arousal, and she feared she’d come again as soon as he touched her.

  When she looked up, Jack was in front of her, holding a cardboard box. Her curiosity was instantly piqued. With her eyes glued to his hands, she watched in awe as he withdrew an item from inside the box made of black leather and gleaming stainless steel. She reacted instantly with a noticeable shudder – seconds before she figured out that he held a formidable looking slave collar. She shouldn’t have been surprised; collars had been part of their ongoing conversation, but the fact that he’d already purchased one took her completely off guard.

  “What do you think?” The look of the thing was almost too much for her and she didn’t know what to say. Finally, she spit out the first thing that came to mind:

  “That’s quite a collar.”

  “It is.”

  The collar consisted of a nearly 2” band of black leather, with a smaller, yet still sizable steel band ringing the center of the entire thing. There was some sort of fastening mechanism that required a padlock, which Jeni couldn’t see clearly. Every feature of the collar’s design seemed ominous and wonderful, straight from a submissive’s fondest fantasies – including many of her own. She wanted to take a closer look, to hold it in her hands, lift it to her nose to smell its scent, but the collar abruptly disappeared from view as Jack moved around behind her.

  “You’ll wear this whenever I tell you to, and can pretty much expect to when you’re with me. Not in public, of course.”

  She took a deep breath, while trying to wrap her mind around what this sudden turn would mean to their relationship. As Jack fit the leather and steel around her throat, his commanding energy flooded into her body. She reacted to the touch of his fingers with a tremor of want, and when the lock clicked shut, the sound of it – though it was just a small sound – reverberated all the way to her toes.

  Once the collar was in place, he moved back around and faced her, with the key to the padlock in his hand. “The lock is keyed the same as the ones that fit the cuffs. If the need arises, you can unlock it yourself, although while we’re together, the key stays with me.” As she expected. “So what do you think?”

  She looked at him dumbfounded. “I think you surprised me. But I like the looks of it, at least what I’ve seen.”

  “You’ll get a closer look soon enough.”

  “And you, Master? You like the way it looks?”

  “I do.” He nodded, obviously pleased. “Weighty, no-nonsense, not particularly glamorous. But it communicates the right message.”

  “Message?”

  “You’re owned, slave. You have an issue with that, you’d better tell me now.”

  “None,” she said without even thinking. Her fingers grazed the edge of the leather, touching it delicately as if it might bite. The steel band was cool, while the soft leather warmed with her body heat. You’re owned. The words repeated in the back of her mind; it would take some tim
e before she understood all that being owned by Jack would mean. But she liked the sound of being owned, and the way that owned made her feel.

  “I do like it,” he stated again. Then his mood seemed to darken for a moment, with a visceral sort of feeling emanating from some shadowy place opening in him now. He nodded as if confirming his own thoughts, which he hadn’t shared with her. “It’s what I want to see you wearing. I’d planned on making more of a ceremony of it, but I’ve had it for ten days and was getting antsy to see it around your throat.” Like a substitute for his hands, was the thought that arose unbidden in Jeni’s mind. “I’m sure it’ll be too much for sleeping. You’ll go back to the training collar at night, but this goes on first thing in the morning.”

  This next piece of her new reality falling into place would take some getting used to. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt with the collar around her throat, but it did have a certain magic, putting her into immediate subspace, which would be the best place to be in the company of her master.

  Pulling one of the deck chairs close to where she knelt, he sat down, so she could take up her favorite position between his legs without needing to move the cushion that cradled her knees. As he stared down at her with the full force of his eyes acutely trained on her, she felt herself shrink before him. His stare unnerved her, as if his eyes were crawling though her thoughts while she exposed herself to him. As if she were an open book and he was reading every private thought coming through her scattered emotions. Did he really have that kind of power?

  That stare alone had her painfully aroused. She felt vulnerable before him.

  Everything was happening so fast. What do I have to fear? Again, she asked that question of herself as she had so many times since their relationship began.

  She knew that where he led she would dutifully follow, just as she always imagined she would do with a master. But had she leapt too soon? Was this what she really wanted for herself? Could her life honestly make sense in this unequal relationship? This wasn’t a fantasy, a game of let’s pretend. The emotions were too strong and the feelings too real, the desires too deeply embedded in them both to trivialize extraordinary moments like this one. Despite her doubts, and as absurd as this relationship often seemed, there was no way she could abandon it now. Nor could she dismiss the powerful exhilaration of kneeling bowed before the man she’d come to know as Master.