Once on his back again, Jeni continued the impassioned blowjob, pulling out every trick she knew to have him hard and in a feverish state. The position was awkward and difficult to manage; and she worked with such mindless determination that her muscles began to ache. However, with the first sweet taste of cum on her lips, she dove in again with renewed resolve to bring her master the reward they both were after. Any second he would explode into orgasm. The slurping, sucking blowjob continued until minutes later, Jack’s cum flooded into her mouth, so much of it that she couldn’t swallow it all. There was no time to gulp it down and what she couldn’t consume dripped out onto his crotch.
For a long while after the last spasm, she lay between his legs and just lapped at his flagging cock for fun. Then she crawled up on his body and lay on top of him, nestling into his nakedness with her pussy pressing into his flagging organ. She lovingly kissed his lips, and he kissed her back in a rare display of tender affection she would remember long after this magical night was over.
“Thank you, Master,” she said, then she sank into this body, overcome with exhaustion as she came down from the beautiful high.
“It’s time you slept, slave,” he finally said.
“I think so, too,” she murmured. She rolled off to his side and snuggled in close. With his arm around her, they drifted off, the neon sign blinking pink and green spreading its soft glow through the dark night.
Chapter Fourteen
Jeni put down the phone, and sat on the edge of her bed at home, quite thankful that she was alone. Jack had left her just moments before. He would certainly have been there to offer her a comforting hug, but taking the news was easier without him. The call from Sam came so unexpectedly. Samantha, her childhood friend, faced a sentence no one should have to embrace, though they did every day. The two had played together when they were five years old, went through the highs and lows of puberty; the spats, the anger, the dramatic making up. They’d danced with joy at graduation a few years later, and as they parted, they vowed to stay close friends forever. Though they didn’t see each other very often now, a piece of them was glued at the hip after so much shared life. And now they shared the diagnosis with a solemn sadness on that otherwise bright morning. Jeni listened to Sam’s attempts to joke, to minimize, to put on a fearless mask of confidence in face of the odds, though it was hard to put a positive spin on the unexpected news. Once they hung up, Jeni couldn’t move and couldn’t breathe, and then within a minute or two, her mind spun out in a quick fast-forward to the likely future – the fight, the treatment, the brave faces – she’d been through this routine before – and the uncertainty that accompanied everything; the worst part of all, not knowing.
“Ain’t life grand!” she voiced aloud to the empty room. She sighed as if a heavy weight had just been placed on her shoulders.
Life goes swimmingly along like it’s meant to. After what was a temporary rift, if it was a rift at all, she was back in the beautiful dream of Master/slave. All in a single night. Jack had worked a miracle; and she wanted to spend the day glowing from the inside out as she brought to mind every good and kinky thing from his arrival to the bondage and whipping, to the tag that dangled from her clit, the vibrating bullet, the ball and chain, and the way she stepped out on his arm, dressed for a romantic dinner in perfectly demure attire. No one would have known the truth about the two unless they possessed a keen sense of intuition and were able to understand what lay behind the subtle smirks on both their faces; this was a private fantasy intended to remain private, though there’d always be a secret wish to be exposed, for someone astute enough to read the signs and nod in approval of a fantasy they shared.
It had been quite an evening – the night in the cheap motel with its pale moon glow, blinking neon and musty smells still made her smile. But all of it was now relegated to memory – one she’d have to pick up and savor on another day, if ever.
Ah! But life never ends on a moonlit night…she recalled a line from her favorite stage play. Reality shifts quickly, priorities rearrange. Long before their night of small kinky miracles was committed to memory, fate moved in with a wrenching twist, and the beautiful dream that was that night was swept aside.
Jeni called Jack several hours later to tell him the news.
“She lives in Baltimore. I’m gonna need to be there to take care of her. I’ve arranged to work remotely so I can be close by until we understand what’s going on. I’ll probably stay on through the surgery,” she paused, “but I really don’t know anything right now…” Her mind was spinning too fast to think.
“Do what you need to do,” Jack said evenly. He exuded a sense of calm that she’d come to expect. Now, now she missed his arms, and the warm hug and the comfort that he would have provided had he been there. He wouldn’t have had to say a word to ease her fears, but now with them miles apart, his words were all she had. “Let me know how it goes. And take care of yourself, Jeni. Call me when you can.”
They kept in touch a couple times a week, Jack even visited once when she was home briefly, but there was no sex. No Master/slave. No kinky thoughts or steamy porn. She lived as though half of herself had been swept to the side and unavailable to her. Only late at night when she was lying in bed would thoughts of Jack and Master/slave creep into her mind and arouse her. Sometimes it was too painful to think about; and when she felt the tag in her crotch, heard it rattle, saw it glimmering in the mirror, she winced. Between her job and taking care of Sam, there was just no time for Jack or anything related. The life she loved was slipping away a day at a time with no way to grab it back.
After three months, sad and frustrated, she finally removed the tag and placed it in the bag with the collar, the cuffs, and other reminders of the life she put on hold.
Part Three
Chapter Fifteen
Six months after their night at The Tivoli …
Restless and unable to sleep, Jeni lay in bed at home and let her mind wander where it would. For six months her sex life existed in the far reaches of her fantasy life. With reality so painful, the only safe places for her play were in Medieval dungeons, kinky sex clubs, in island kingdoms in the middle of nowhere. All of them terrorist dreams and walking nightmares where depravity reigned and she could do anything and everything naughty, perverted and outrageous locked in the safe and private world of her own mind. Whatever worked to get her off, allow a few sweet moments of body joy, and release the pressure cooker of unspent sexual need that her body became at the end of troubling and emotional days was what she did in desperate times like this.
But after six months with her nightly ritual, the easy trigger for sexual release that her fantasies provided failed her more often than not; it took longer each night to release the demons so she could sleep. The wall between fantasy and reality was breaking down, and she could no longer hold back what her heart and body honestly desired.
Getting off against Jack’s fingers in the out-of-doors, strung up against the stone post, her back whipped raw, Malcolm’s eyes on her streaked ass, a slave dinner at The Tivoli with a vibrating bullet in her cunt. The images flashed through her mind, coming out of the wild blue yonder of memory. She wanted to rip them away, force them back into hiding; they were just too painful to look at now. She wanted her old life back – the one with Jack at the center. But after six months with so little stimulation, and so little communication between them, how could they possibly pick up where they left off?
The reality of Master/slave persisted. Jack bled through like a wound that would never heal, although it wasn’t Jack who was wounded. On some daring nights, when she could no longer edit the man from her life like she would a character in a story, she allowed herself to lie in bed and picture him, breathe in the essence of Jack and feel him through her body, through her fingers and her horny crotch. His hands, his lips, his cock and his demands – everything that was tender and terrifyingly thrilling about their sex together – became the fuel that got her off. But the secon
d her masturbation was over, even before the final pleasurable spasm disappeared through her fingers and toes, she shoved aside thoughts of Jack and all he meant to her.
Life was uneasy because of this, unbalanced and a little bit frightening. She didn’t know where she belonged anymore. A ship without a rudder; a slave without a master.
One evening, after she’d been back home for nearly a week, she lay down for her ritual masturbation as she had so many times. Once she finished in her accustomed manner, she rose from bed to wash her hands, shaking off thoughts of Jack as she always did. This time, however, he wouldn’t retreat.
She was rattled, uncertain, restless, about to pace the floor to calm herself. Then, quite suddenly, motivated by an entirely serendipitous urging, she picked up the phone and called him. She hadn’t a clue what she would say. It had been days since she’d heard from him and that had been just a single, meager email. She felt so bereft, so dispossessed and deprived – not to mention the fact that she was incredibly horny. She couldn’t stop herself.
He answered with a cheery, “Hello there,” and as soon as she heard that deep baritone, she realized how much she missed the sound of his voice. The calm, the comfort, and the power behind it.
“I’m home again,” she paused, hoping he’d say something, then added when he didn’t, “home to stay.”
“You are, now. Sam okay?” he asked.
“Okay for now, huh. Plus, she and her mom pretty much kicked me out. Decided that I’d done enough.”
“You suppose you have?” He remained guarded, nothing she didn’t expect, though his careful tone had her concerned. Maybe he’d found another sub.
“I can’t even answer that, but I need my life back,” she charged in. For months, she’d been drowning in a nightmare; now she was struggling to resurface, feeling as if she were swimming up from some place dark and deep to where there was light and sun again. She was hopeful but scared. Would he have her back? Butterflies of anxiety fluttered in her gut and wouldn’t quit. She was ready to beg.
“This is good,” he replied, though he refused to elaborate what he meant by that – nothing changed there.
“You free this weekend?” she finally spit out the question that was most on her mind.
Seems like a day passed before he finally answered, though it couldn’t have been but a handful of suspenseful seconds. “I might be. What’s up?”
“I need you.”
“Oh?”
“I mean I need you, Jack. I need to be your property. I need to be whipped and fucked and used as hard as you would use me. I need my master back.”
“For a night?”
“No! Every day of the week back! Maybe not every day, but what it was like before.” This wasn’t coming out the way she hoped it would. “You and me, Master/slave.” When he didn’t immediately reply, she kept on going. “I don’t suppose we can pick up where we left off, but we can start again.” She paused again, afraid because he was so silent. “That is, if you still want me.” She anxiously waited for him to say something, feeling in that quiet pause as if her entire life hinged on the next couple minutes.
“How about we start with a night first?” he said in his even, measured tone. “I’ll be down tomorrow. That too soon?”
She was about to jump for joy. “I was actually hoping for tonight,” she said, as relief washed through her.
She could almost see a flicker of a smile on his lips and hear a chuckle behind his reply. “I have a meeting tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jeni. It’s Saturday. I’ll have all day.”
***
When Jack arrived at her door, she was ready. Shaved, collared, cuffed, nipple ties in place. And anxious. Those damn butterflies had morphed into ravaging beasts by the time he knocked. Her head was spinning, her heart beating way too fast, just as it had the first time he’d been at her house.
When he walked through the door, Jeni stepped back and went down on her knees. When he moved in closer, she unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zipper down, her fingers quickly fishing through his underwear to find his cock. She drew it out, and without hesitation covered it with her mouth in an act of worship that fed her lust until she was squirming against her feet, which were wedged below her ass. Jack burst through her senses, the taste, the smell, the look, the feel of his flesh, the sound of her kiss as she touched the wet tip of his cock with her lips. His hand through her hair was commanding and tender. She felt safe, the best feeling she’d had in weeks, and the beastly butterflies that had her so agitated minutes before seemed to retreat. At least for now.
The long denied submissive in her soul came back to life from its dormant slumber, little by little arising up to greet her like a welcomed friend.
When he finally backed off, she looked up submissively, checking out his eyes and the grim expression on his face. He lightly slapped her cheek a couple times, drilling her with the cool authority in his masterful expression. With that first slap, the simmering fire in her body burst into flames, pussy throbbing, pent-up and needy, thighs almost too weak to hold her steady. With the second slap she nearly orgasmed.
“On your feet, slave,” he ordered, and he pulled her up, immediately pushing her into the living room, where he sat down on the footstool and drew her yielding body over his lap, her pink ass high. He squeezed her ass cheeks, first one then the other, back and forth repeatedly. She could feel the fire in his body expanding into her, raising her lust, though it was a miserable wait for that first sharp spank to land. She would have begged for it, but she hesitated to annoy him in any way, now that he’d taken control again.
By the time that first smack landed, she nearly vaulted off his lap in shock. “Oh, fuck yes!” she seethed as the pleasure in that instant of pain awakened places within her that had been sleeping for weeks. He kept on going, the spanking firm and sure, light to start, then slowly increasing in strength until she was squirming crazily against his muscled thighs. She wanted his prick inside her.
“Oh, how I’ve missed this!” she cried. The feeling of relief was as exquisite as the pain.
“Missed it, huh?”
“You know I did.”
“Then you need to beg me for more, my missing slave,” he said. What was that she heard in his voice? Indignation? A bit of scorn? “We’ll call this punishment for forgetting who you are. How about that? So beg.” Though he gave each cheek a nasty whack to emphasize his point, it was his words and that tone of voice that made her sexual body roar back to life.
She was not too proud to beg. “Please, Master, spank me more!”
He gave her ass a few nasty whacks then stopped again.
“More please, Sir! I begging!” She poured every heartfelt emotion into that plea.
“That’s what I like to hear, slut.”
Begging for punishment? Is that what she was doing in asking him here? Maybe he was right. Maybe this was justice, the punishing reprimand, the stiff rebuke she needed. Certainly the unfolding scenario was a reminder of that dictatorial voice inside her head that never let her forget who she was and what her life needed. And now, even when the smacks began to burn and her ass got fucking painful, she couldn’t disguise the desire for more. Her body implored him with the way she raised her ass and wiggled it provocatively before his eyes. He got the message without her saying a word. “You’ll be begging me to stop before this is over.”
“But don’t stop yet, Sir,” she blurted out. “I need it hard!”
“Good,” he bit off tersely, his indignation rising again. “Don’t worry. Hard is what you’ll get. You earned this one, and I need it as much as you do.”
The calm and gentle Jack was nowhere to be found.
He kept on spanking as he spoke, with the intensity increasing until her bottom was flaming hot, and she was jerking and twisting, and seizing up with spasms firing off in her belly. He’d never spanked her with such force and for so long.
She was hurt and she was crying. She was tormented by
the pain and, yes, wishing he would stop. At least until he paused for a moment; then she wanted more. And she got it. His big palm slapped her upturned behind in a screwy sort of justice that made no sense in the real world, and was perfectly logical in the world they occupied. The over-the-knee drama went on like this until they were both exhausted, and his hand and her ass were hurting too much to continue.
When he finally ended it, she slumped down between his thighs. Her ass was throbbing and her heart beating like a maniac on the loose. Seconds later, his jeans and jockeys were around his ankles and his erection was bobbing before her face. She was all about sucking him off, seemed like the natural thing to do in thanks for the punishment. Isn’t that what good slaves do in their alternative world? Thank their masters with a slavish and adoring blowjob?
As freely as she gave to him, she was well aware that she had no choice in the matter of sucking his cock. Jack’s hand was on the back of her head, authoritatively pushing her mouth down to his tumescent organ – again a sobering thought behind that determined shove. She felt his anger and this was something new to her. She never wanted to make him angry – ever. But she had. “You have a lot of time to make up for, wench,” he said, as her mouth covered his organ. “Now get busy.”
She worked her mouth all over his cock, tongue lapping, teeth gently grazing over the hard muscle, lips sucking almost frantically. Making up for all the lost blowjobs of the last six months. She drew his cock deeply into her mouth until she gagged, and she gagged often as she usually did. She wondered if he liked her gagging, especially since he kept that palm against her head and gave her very little opportunity to pull away before he was pushing her back down again. Been a long time since he’d exercised his rights as her master, and he was due every lick, suck, nibble and gagging response. When the first taste of sweet came, she smiled inwardly, loving the fact that he was so aroused and so hard. Then, almost without her notice, her mouth filled with cum; so much of it that it overflowed her mouth and ran down her chin. She lapped it greedily and swallowed what she could. Oh, how she’d missed this humble servitude! When she looked down to see just one small drop at the top of the cockhead, she licked it away.
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