Spontaneous Combustion

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  When he finally let go, she was panting hard and she pressed hand between her legs and fondled her pussy. “You suppose we could just fuck?” she asked.

  “We could, but we’re not,” he answered. “Settle down and keep talking.”

  “Really? What else is there to say?” She was frustrated and cross, and her face communicated that fact.

  Jack put his palm against her face. When she tried to turn away, he gave her a pat on the cheek. “Look at me.”

  She did. “Sorry, Master.”

  “I like where this conversation is going. Keep talking, slut.”

  She didn’t know where to begin again, but there were a lot of questions in her mind about things that had been mentioned before. She might as well spit them out now. “So, you’d actually show me off to your friends?” she asked.

  “It’s a possibility. You think about that a lot?”

  “Hummm. More often than you know.” She wondered just how far he would go. This was tough territory for her – frightening, yes, but with thrilling possibilities. “So how would that happen? You showing me off?”

  “Not sure.” He shrugged. “Maybe here, maybe the cottage. Let’s just say, right now, if one of my friends – and it would depend on who it was – were to happen by and you were, let’s say, dressed the way you are now, collar, cuffs and otherwise bare-assed naked, I wouldn’t necessarily make you cover up.”

  “Really?” She could see it now, like one of the fantasies she wrote about, but this was no fantasy.

  “Yes, really. Far as I’m concerned it’s going to happen, eventually.”

  She took a breath. “Now that makes me nervous.”

  “Nothing wrong with that.”

  “And if I balk?”

  “You’ll balk. But whether you like it or not, you’ll get through it. You’re a slave. You balk enough to get me pissed, you’ll get punished right then and there, and it won’t matter who’s looking.”

  “Oh, you are a hard master.”

  “No. I’m gentle and caring,” he reminded her, with a tender smirk, “as long as you’re obedient.”

  “I’m not going to win anything here, am I?”

  “Depends on what winning means to you. I think you’ll win all the way around since you’ll be so fucking horny you’ll be begging me to screw you, which I will – eventually.” He let that thought linger between them for a moment. “So. You’ve managed to skirt my question by picking my brain. Now it’s back to you, Jeni.”

  “Oh, you are utterly merciless, Jack Hawking.”

  He smiled, pleased with himself. “Good. That tells me you have more to confess.”

  “I don’t know how to top that.”

  “Try.”

  She really wanted to protest but she didn’t dare. Getting stubborn with this man wouldn’t work. She’d let him trump her. She was sub; giving in was what subs do.

  “Well,” she took a breath. Why did she have to be so dang honest? “Since we’re on a roll here…I often think about how fucking hot it would be if you were to take the showing off a little further, maybe, and let your friend,” she could barely spit it out, “inspect me.” She stopped with that, then quickly, added, “There, Master! You have it! That’s all the confession I’m going to make today. You’ve worn my brain out. Just so you know, that’s what I was hiding.”

  He laughed. “Well, how about that. We think alike.”

  “I was afraid that’s what you’d say,” she said, though she was smiling, too.

  There was a whole lot more behind that fantasy that she didn’t tell him, including possibilities she was sure he hadn’t thought of. But apparently, she’d satisfied his curiosity for now. He didn’t ask for more. He ended the interrogation by tackling her down, planting his cock between her legs, and screwing missionary style, nothing kinky about it, although as his erection banged into her hungry pussy, she felt taken and used, like she was his property, which indeed she was.

  They parted ways the following morning with so many sexy kisses and hugs that she would have called in sick and kept kissing her master all day long. But as was typical for their relationship, Jack was the voice of reason. He pushed her off with a heavy sigh. “I’ll have students lining up outside the door of my office if I don’t get there soon. And you’d better get to work. Drive carefully, slut. Want to see you all in one piece next weekend. I’ll be coming down.”

  Chapter Ten

  “So your call yesterday morning set the tone for the day. I stayed home to work on a project, but all I could think of was what you’d do to me when I saw you next. How you’d take me, use me, what you’d make me confess next. And all these nasty things are running through my brain – well, this is what happens in the evening after a long day thinking of you and this kink we share. I don’t know if I can handle another day at home doing little but make up naughty stories for my blog – I need to get back to the office and do something productive. The thing is…I’m such a slave (a slutty one as well). I wrote the attached piece for you – just something fun and frivolous. By the way, I wore your collar all day. You suppose that has anything to do with the fine madness I’m feeling now?”

  Broken Open

  Broken open in the evening, something raw and evil,

  wicked and outrageous exploded from me

  as I lay down to masturbate.

  This was no ordinary masturbation…

  more like someone kicked me into high gear

  on the heels of writing explosive porn all afternoon –

  with your collar around my neck

  I want you to get rough with me

  stern with me

  push me to my knees to put your cock in me

  I wanna get fucked, slapped, pinched

  kissed hard and penetrated everywhere.

  I wanna be mastered

  dominated

  made to slavishly grovel before you like a penitent.

  So this, Master Hawking, is what I get for being

  too tired to masturbate the night before,

  then letting my body gather steam over

  another porn-filled day.

  I break open all over the place

  cumming on my hand, juices dripping across my fingers

  all the while wishing, praying, imagining it’s your hand

  your lips, your cock breaking my body open tonight.

  An endless parade of porn is going on inside my head

  And it doesn’t seem to want to stop

  Talking dirty to you on the on phone,

  now that would get me off, Would it get you off, too?

  How about sex in the shower, dripping wet

  me on my knees at your feet, feeling the warm golden rain

  from you falling down my face and shoulders

  or kissing you till our mouths hurt

  or giving your body a massage with nothing but my tongue?

  I’d like a long, blistering spanking that would go on all day

  with breaks, of course, I’m not that much of a masochist

  and a dozen climaxes any which way

  and me buried in your crotch any way you want me

  for an hour or more, or however long it takes to quench the fire in you

  Broken wide open last night…

  I wonder what’s gonna happen next time we meet? END

  ***

  “Check your schedule. I’m going north next weekend and want you with me. Friday to Sunday evening.”

  Her stunned response – the gasp, the pounding heart and the mind-spin immediately kicking into high gear – finally gave way to a little calm. She’d learned to ease off on the emotional theatrics that seemed to arise anytime Jack made a sudden and unexpected announcement. She hadn’t expected this; for ten weeks, his cottage was a carrot dangling before her, a promise, but not a reality. Sometimes it seemed like a phantom reality and she wondered if it even existed. He’d been at the cottage three times since they’d met, but on each occasion, he was taking students
with him and her presence wasn’t what…? Appropriate? Welcome? Advisable? She’d never quite understood why she couldn’t just be there, hanging out in the background, busy with her own work until late in the day after his work was done, when he could close the bedroom door behind them and use her as the slave she was. To her, the idea was romantic. Their kink world existing as a parallel universe, side by side with their working reality, a naughty escape to fantasyland – not a lot different from the way their affair had always been: spontaneous combustion in the midst of the daily grind, the normal comings and goings of two busy professionals – playful, wicked, mischievous and fun. Their affair was all that, along with being a grand experiment in dominance and submission that just kept getting better. When you got right down to the basic truth of it, they were just two debauched hedonists on a fucking joyride, following the desires that made them come alive.

  The fact that the cottage hadn’t yet figured in their weekend plans was a huge frustration for Jeni, although she’d kept her frustration to herself.

  But now she smiled – even though the flip side of her present elation had a darker aspect; maybe her hopes for the coming weekend were grossly misplaced. Was there a message in this? A signal suggesting a possible shift in their relationship to something bigger? Sometimes she worried that Master Jack Hawking and slave Jeni were just a happy dream that would one day prove as ephemeral as a cloud and dematerialize in the wind as if it had never happened at all. She reread his email for maybe the tenth time, trying to sort this out, then had to push it from her mind, and forget trying to figure out Jack’s every motive.

  “My schedule is free, Sir. Let me know what I need to bring, when and where we’ll meet. Excited. Beaming. Can’t wait to see the cottage and spend time on the lake.”

  Her email was short and sweet. Better than effusively gushing with all the thoughts bombarding her brain at that moment. Even so, the trip set the tone for her day and would for the next several, until she finally climbed into the Jeep beside him.

  They spoke that night on the phone, making plans, talking clothes and food and anything else that popped into her head that applied to the trip. The conversation finally lagged, and Jack jumped in this time, “You do understand what going to the cottage is going to mean for you.”

  “Mean? That sounds a little ominous.”

  “Shouldn’t be. It’s what you want.”

  “So what, exactly, are you implying?” She was getting nervous.

  “There’s a lot that will happen at the cottage that won’t happen in your house or mine.”

  “Of course.”

  “It’ll be time to stretch your limits —” she heard him laugh. “Literally and figuratively.”

  “Ah! That would be me dangling from the rafters in chains,” she joked.

  “Might be.”

  The butterflies in her stomach were suddenly in a riot. “Thanks, Master. Now you have my palms all sweaty.”

  “Good.”

  “Anything in particular I should prepare myself for?”

  “Let’s see,” he considered the question earnestly. “How about you prepare to surrender, submit, and do what you’re told. Those are the only instructions you’ll ever need.”

  She wanted to laugh. “Yes, of course, Master. I’ve been waiting for this for so long. I don’t want to mess it up.”

  “You won’t.” He was always so sure of her and her obedience, when in her mind she wasn’t sure at all.

  There was nothing to calm her beating heart and settle those damn butterflies. This mild uproar of terror and thrill converging was what she’d live with until they were finally there. She had no reason to complain. She was standing on the edge of a precipice before a great abyss. Raw excitement. Tension in her gut. A deep throbbing pulse between her legs that was as orgasmic as it was painful to live with. Her kink was all about teetering on the edge of mystery, toying with the thought of the dark side, then with a little nudge, abandoning that edge and diving in. Jack was that nudge. She didn’t want to step back off that precipice, even if it meant that the terrifying anxiety would ease.

  ***

  She read through their old emails.

  June…

  “The collar demonstrates an acceptance of your slavery to me. It represents an iron clad bond. There may be times I require you wear it in the company of my friends – those who would understand what it means.”

  July…

  “Did you really tell me that I’d strip in front of whoever you wanted me to?”

  “Yes I did. How would that be different from when you’ve stripped at your kink club with your friends?”

  Early August…

  “So, how would you show me off?”

  “The only thing I can say for sure is that it would be a private showing. Would I allow you to be touched? Probably. How would any man look at you strung up before them and not want to touch? But there will be no fingers in your mouth, that is for my private and personal use only. You’d be wearing collar, cuffs, nipple ties and cunt tag – and clothes to start. I would order you to strip off each piece of clothing. After that, I’m not sure. I might allow him to touch your pussy, your tits, maybe. There are a lot of possibilities. I have always wanted to try double penetration. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You’ll be told what to do and when to do it. Turn around. Bend over. Spread your cheeks. Stand with your legs spread wide, maybe on the coffee table so we could get a good look at the clit ring and ID tag. As long as it pleases me, you’ll do it.”

  That ‘tag’ was still just a fantasy in both their minds; though it kept Jeni wondering when…

  Later in August…

  “What excites me – seeing you collared before my friends, removing your clothing one piece at a time to demonstrate your obedience to me. I thought about allowing a friend to leave marks on your ass, but at the moment, I’d prefer to mark you myself. I might demonstrate how to whip you and let them admire the results. Master”

  Every time she read through their old emails, the same things jumped out at her, all coming down to one imperative in the life of a slave. She recalled their last phone conversation – Prepare to surrender, submit, and do what you’re told. Those are the only instructions you’ll ever need, slave. That was all he needed to say. She sometimes wondered what in those old emails was horny talking? And what was real? What were just nighttime fantasies playing out in his mind while he stroked his cock, thinking of her – his slave?

  What would Jack actually do?

  ***

  Early morning the end of August…

  Like every other time they’d been together, Jeni felt a little magic glittering behind the reality. Maybe even more magical this time as they headed into the spooky unknown of the cottage. She was happy that he hadn’t started with a lot of ‘dom speak’, rules and orders, that sort of thing – she might have peed her pants from nerves. Even so, by the time she finally climbed into the green Wrangler, her body was vibrating to a degree that she’d not experienced since the day they met. At least then, she’d settled down once the first few minutes were over. But there was no settling down now as Jack drove to the bottom of his driveway and headed toward the Interstate. It was still dark as night. She’d driven up the evening before so they could head out early in the morning, but she’d hardly slept a wink.

  “Relax, girl, your nerves are going to be all worn out before we even get there.”

  “You noticed?”

  His eyes narrowing on her and he shook his head, indulgently. Amused. “I’m not always observant, but you’re pretty obvious this time, wench. Practice your deep breathing or whatever you do.”

  “Sure, I’ll do that,” she smiled. For awhile she focused on her breathing, trying to relax as she stared out the window, watching the city lights diminish the further they drove north. Then for a time she dozed, resting her head against a pillow that she propped against the window. She woke from the heavy stupor of her nap, and feeling a little flustered, she took Jac
k’s hand and felt his soothing energy dispel her rattled nerves.

  Daylight was beginning to creep around the edges of the night, brightening the sky. However, the meandering road they traveled was bordered by tall pines and stately maples, and was still a little spooky at that hour, making Jeni think of Hansel and Gretel on their way into the mysterious woods. She and Jack chatted for a time, then settled into a comfortable quiet as day dawned, and the morning sky opened further, deep and blue as the ocean. It was easy to daydream, to lose her mind in thoughts of what might happen while she was at Jack’s cottage. Stretching her limits, what did that mean? The question haunted her, and wouldn’t quit her thoughts. Accompanying it was a feeling of excitement, along with a hefty dose of fear.

  When the Jeep made a hairpin turn on the rough gravel road, the sudden shift in direction threw Jeni back to the present moment. Her anxiety fired up again seeing where they were. They emerged from the woods at the edge of the lake, the cottage in sight, just a few hundred yards in the distance. While the cottage had been the focus of her obsessive fantasies, with one glance at the serene silvery lake in that early morning hour, everything else vanished. She was so mesmerized by the sight of all that sky and water, and the pristine beauty of the far shore, that even when Jack pulled up into the yard and stopped the Jeep, the cottage was not where she headed. She hopped out and made her way down to the sandy beach to the pier and strolled to the end of the dock. If the sun had been high in the sky, as it would be hours later, she would have been tempted to shed her clothes and dive in. But the water looked cold and forbidding now. Instead, she let her eyes feast on the serenity, the kind that only occurs by magic, by some combination of factors in the right place at the right time. It was definitely the right time of day to be awed by what nature creates with so little effort – morning after morning, every new dawn just slightly altered from the day before, each incarnation unique. The sight before her it made up for having to leave before the sun rose.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Jack stood behind her with an arm going around her waist. The moment of connection was a first for them; that arm around her waist a spontaneous stab at affection uncommon for Jack. She breathed him in, as much as she did the sight of water and sky, relishing the warmth of his body in contrast to the sharp cool air. He said he changed when he was at the cottage, and Jeni could already feel the difference in his spirit, as if mind, body and soul had made a slight shift and something opened up inside him that she hadn’t seen before.