Spontaneous Combustion

by Lizbeth Dusseau

  “Did you cum at all while I was away?” she looked up grinning. Her face was wet and her lips shining. The pungent aroma was like sweet perfume.

  He still wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t exactly frowning either.

  She tried again. “Installment payment on what I owe you?”

  He nodded, solemnly, “Just one of many.”

  She cocked her head to the side, inspecting his pursed lips and the dark mood of his eyes. “You were angry, weren’t you?”.

  “Weren’t you? Sexually, for me, the last six months sucked – and not in a good way!”

  “I wish I could have prevented that.”

  “And you couldn’t. I understand that. You did what you needed to do. But it still sucked and I can still be pissed now.” Only then did he smile though it was a wicked one.

  “What are you thinking, Sir?” she asked.

  “That I’m not done with you yet.” His smile got broader.

  The wicked look on his face rushed through her like a hot wind in summer. Unsettling.

  Of course, he wasn’t done with her; she wouldn’t have wanted him to be.

  ***

  They took a break to grab a bite to eat then headed to the bedroom, Jack pushing her along as he liked to do when he was anxious and ready and not wanting to wait.

  With her draped over the end of the bed, he whipped her back and her ass – adding insult to an already injured butt. Then he turned her over and continued the flogging, whipping her breasts and paddling her cunt – a tough punishment to take. Erratic. Unpredictable. And especially harsh on tender skin. When she jumped around too much to please him, twisting and turning as if she were trying to get away, he got testy and grumbled. Soon, he had enough of her wild gyrations, so he bound her cuffed wrists to the headboard with rope and tied them off. Finally, just to prove that he was serious about whipping her, he shoved a pillow beneath her ass to raise her pussy high and put his target right before his eyes. His evil scheme was pure torture one minute, pure pleasure the next. His floggers and whips came down again in both places, and when he was done with those, he picked up the cane.

  Her eyes went wide in terror when she saw it. The cane? Really? “Please…” she couldn’t keep herself from pleading.

  If her plea had any effect, she didn’t know. He didn’t miss a beat. The cane came down – not real hard, but hard enough to hurt like hell on the sensitive skin of her thighs, and have her crying out in despair.

  When he got tired of her crying, he lashed out, “How about you hold down the noise, slut?”

  “But it hurts too much!” she appealed to him with a sorry look.

  “That’s good for you; you like the pain.”

  She wanted to scream otherwise, but this was a war of words she’d never win. And never would she have wanted to.

  Whether her pleading moved him to stop, or he was just ready to end it there, she’d never know. The session was over. He tossed the cane to the side of the room where it clattered against the wall. Then he released her wrists and flipped her over. Raising her ass up high, and with his hands clutching her rosy cheeks, he buried his cock in her ass, deep.

  The exhilaration of that first thrust had her coming instantly. “Aw, ffffuuuucck!” she screamed. Although she buried her cry in the mattress, while her fists clung to the comforter beside her. Damn he was deep! Like suddenly his cock had grown inches since they started. This was what she wanted, what six months of nighttime masturbation could never give her. Her sex-starved body rocked with every rugged thrust.

  He banged her hard with the stoic in him retreating to the sidelines for a time, allowing a low rumbling roar to rise up within his horny body as the vigorous fuck came to a climax. Her normally subdued master grunted, pouring more righteous anger into the hard anal sex as his cock spewed again.

  Beneath him, Jeni settled into a sensuous subspace while the lingering spasms retreated. It was just the feel of his hands on her body now. One minute gentle and caring, the next, a reminder of the great power he possessed within those hands. For a few moments between one passion and the next, between the hard come and the tenderness that followed, she was reminded of the paradox of Jack Hawking. The tender lover, the sexual beast, and how she loved them both.

  The moment passed and she slumped to bed, curling up in her master’s arms.

  Maybe an hour went by before either of them spoke; Jack first this time.

  “Where’s your ID tag, the silver charm?” he asked.

  She flinched for a second, then stumbled into the explanation. “I-I took it off.”

  “I can see. Doesn’t answer my question.”

  “It’s safe in the toy bag. A few month in – I couldn’t wear it without being reminded of you and what I’d lost. It hurt to see it and know that you were so far away.”

  “And now?”

  “To be honest, I wasn’t sure you wanted to be Master and slave anymore. I thought it’s something we should discuss.”

  “Go get it, Jeni.”

  The order had her scrambling off the bed and to the toy bag, which she rummaged though until she found what he wanted, and brought the silver disc with its inscription back to him.

  Jack looked it over then handed it to her. “I want it on your dresser, on top of your jewelry box, where you’ll see it every day. When it’s time we’ll have that discussion.” This was not what she wanted. She missed it dangling from her clit so much that she wished she’d thought to put it back on that morning. Or had made up some excuse when he asked where it was. But then that wouldn’t be honest, would it? And the thought of deceiving him was more repugnant than going without it now. She supposed she’d have to earn the right to wear it again.

  Again they lay in each other’s arms. This time kissing, kissing so much that her neck hurt from the awkward position, but she wouldn’t have stopped. The sun-washed room was warm and sensuous this time of day. Jeni felt as if they were halfway back to normal. Panic abated. Questions put to rest, while others still waited for an answer – like what to do with the tag that rested on her dresser and drew her eye every time she gazed in that direction. He knew it would haunt her, conniving bastard that he was.

  But she let that thought go. What she had with him lying in his arms was good for now. Kissing, sweetly, tenderly, hard and ruggedly. Kissing any way he liked was fine with her.

  Again he was the first to break the silence when the kissing ended.

  “Next Sunday I’m leaving for the cottage for a week, maybe a few days longer. Part vacation. Part work. There will a few students in midweek but only for two, maybe three days. I’d like you there with me if you can work that out with your job.”

  She sat up once she realized what he’d said. She needed to see his face.

  “Really?”

  “You need the vacation. You can work if you want when I’m working. That’s up to you. But you’re going to rest. You need that most.”

  Soon as he said that, she could feel the truth of it nestle in her weary bones. Something inevitable and right about his offer. The elation over the invite was subdued compared to the jumping enthusiasm of his first invitation to the cottage. But that was right, too.

  She settled back down to his side. “Sure, I’ll be there. And thank you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Their first night at the cottage, Jack led her naked into the soft evening light, to a post that held bird feeders and hanging baskets in summer. With nothing hanging from the hooks that were drilled into the hard wood, the purpose of the post became ominously clear, and had Jeni’s sex juice leaking down her thigh. She squirmed as he pushed her forward.

  Despite the places available to tie her down, he didn’t bother with ropes and cuffs this time.

  “I’m trusting you to hang on,” he said. “Don’t let me down.”

  “No, Sir.”

  “The only thing I need from you this week is your surrender. And let me be clear with you about what the means.” By the time he said that,
she was visibly trembling with anticipation, although she did not expect what came next when he tersely ordered, “Open your mouth, slave.” Her mouth gaped wide, into which he shoved a thick wooden stick about eight inches long. Something he found lying on the ground and dusted off. He tied leather laces around the ends of the stick and secured it in place, knotting them together behind her neck.

  The move wasn’t subtle and his meaning was clear. The gag reduced her. It set them apart as Master and slave. But any act that took her down to the low place she was in that moment was a sacred one she welcomed.

  The flogging that followed was rough, although she was soaring into subspace nirvana before it even began. There was hardly a thought in her mind again until it was over, and strangely very little pain that she’d remember. Her high was the mind fuck, and she needed no more than that to make this first night one she’d not forget.

  He asked nothing from her afterwards, other than to settle herself in the cottage, make herself at home, he said, while he took care of things in the lab.

  “You want me dressed or naked?” she asked.

  “Clothes are fine,” he said, then he walked off toward his laboratory.

  ***

  He fucked her every night for the first four days. Nothing elaborate or particularly kinky about the sex but his cock, her cunt, a lot of oral, and a lot of kissing afterwards when they were lying together in bed. They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  During those days, they popped popcorn, baked chocolate fudge cookies – rather she baked cookies in her birthday suit and apron, while he watched and smoked a joint. They drank champagne. Rum and Cokes. Smoked a little weed, then watched old color cartoons on his widescreen TV – which he’d just installed. Later, she painted her nails bright red while listening to Jack’s stories about the outrageous exploits of his youth – crashing cars in the Arizona desert; a road trip through redneck bars in the South with his two best friends; days sailing on Lake Michigan in the middle of summer with plenty of booze and girls. He’d led a much wilder life than she had.

  One evening, they watched the original black and white version of It Happened One Night, laughing through the entire thing while splayed out on the couch, jockeying for the most comfortable position. For awhile that night, she sank to the floor between his feet and coddled his cock with her mouth. It was determined not to rise. They’d fucked hard just an hour before, but she felt enough life rising from his organ to take some triumph in the results of her efforts.

  She told him stories about her months with Sam, what was good, and ugly and painful in that rough six months; about the uproarious laughter of two old friends, the sobbing in sadness; about when she and Sam danced together when the news about her condition was terribly bad and how they cried with relief when the news was good.

  He let her talk while tears streamed down her cheeks. And when they heard the Lennon’s Stand By Me from their night at The Tivoli playing on the radio, they got up and danced again like they did that night months before, like they did when they were in high school.

  She wondered what it would have been like if they’d met then.

  But she didn’t wonder about that long. He’d found Animal House on TCM and they laughed until their sides ached. Later that night, they danced to Janis Joplin, Joe Cocker and classic oldies she’d never heard. The laughter returned as they stumbled over each other’s feet and finally sank back to the couch exhausted.

  On the afternoon of the fourth day, he took her for a boat ride around the lake. She’d been curious to see the far shore. It was a warm day and she wore nothing but a sundress and her collar. Halfway around the lake, he stopped the boat, letting it drift in the slow current.

  He eyed her carefully, inspecting her as if he were deciding what to do with her, then finally said, “Take off the dress.”

  “Really?” She sat back, alarmed. “You really mean that?”

  “Now what do you think?”

  “Okay.” She hesitated a moment, stared about, looking for signs of human life on the shore, which was not far away, then finally satisfied that she was relatively safe from gawking eyes – there were only a handful of rustic cabins near the shore – she pulled the dress up over her head and tossed it to the bottom of the boat.

  Jack smiled, threw her a bottle of sunscreen then helped her cover her body with cream. When he finished, he started up the motor and continued their trip around the lake.

  The gentle breeze and intermittent sunshine danced off Jeni’s naked skin, making her shiver one minute and hot the next. When the sun shone down it seemed as if every inch of her body was erotically charged, reminding of her of the times she’d sunbathed nude on her parents private porch, body awash in sunshine, flesh prickly and on fire, until her hand found her pussy wet, and she brought herself off. Now, right out in the open, before God and who knows what else, she was self-conscious every second, every moment afraid that someone would emerge from the woods and watch the boat drift by, with her in it.

  She watched Jack’s face, the hint of satisfaction on his lips.

  “You’re liking this, aren’t you?” she accused, “the fact I’m so goddamn nervous out in the open.”

  “I am.” His eyes gave off a wicked gleam. “You know I could just park this boat most anywhere and take you into the woods anywhere along the lake.”

  Was he hinting about his next move or was this just another mind fuck? “And why would you do that?” she wondered aloud.

  “Because you’d do it for me, even if you didn’t like it.”

  “I suppose you’d be shoving me against a tree and screwing me.”

  “Maybe. Or I might just march you to a neighbor’s house and present you as my slave.”

  She couldn’t tell if he was serious or kidding. She had to hope that he was only trying to rattle her, which he had.

  When they returned to the dock after their lazy trip around the lake; she hopped from the boat, and jogged quickly toward the cottage. She wasn’t trying to run away; just lure him away from the beach. As she hoped, he rapidly made up the distance between them and pushed her into the grass.

  “You trying to get me riled?” he asked. Their eyes met in a hard stare. He wasn’t really serious, was he?

  “I might be,” she answered evasively.

  “I don’t think you want to be doing that, slave.” There was enough of a threat in his warning for her to end the teasing come-on.

  Although, in a move she did not expect, he lifted her to her feet, tore off his clothes, and the two went skinny dipping to cool off.

  Just before dinner they fucked in the cottage – in bed, with Jack on top and Jeni below, missionary style, though there was nothing pious about this fuck. His body bore down on her with the firmness of his muscled chest and strong thighs, and all that testosterone powered masculinity conquering and consuming her body as his slammed into hers. What could be more masterful than that? In spite of the kinky tease in the boat, the sex was basically vanilla, just as it had been the previous two days. Vanilla was beginning to feel almost normal now. Though there was always that kinky feeling rising up from normal, demanding attention like a nagging kid. The next day, his students would arrive and she’d have to fit herself back into the clothes of respectability while Jack would have to shape his attitude to fit the new mood at the cottage; although, he rarely varied in his demeanor, being the same rooted bastard no matter what company he kept – just another variation on a familiar theme. With her, he was Master. With his students, he was the tough mentor, the exacting professor. With either one, he held a figurative whip in hand making sure his subordinates behaved according to his wishes. He had to be a happy man, even if there were things that still troubled him.

  That fourth night, after dinner, after the lights were out, he pulled her on top of him, and for a long while she laid there with his cock inside her cunt, and her body rocking side to side in a sensuously erotic rhythm. Her juicy snatch enjoyed the feel of his hard muscle deep inside
her body. They were in a place they’d never been, where she’d never been at all. A dreamy, sexy place, flesh to flesh, moving back and forth with her hips pressed tightly against his. They enjoyed their lingering kisses, and moments when her head tucked down to the crook of his neck and she kissed and nibbled the smooth flesh there.

  His hands moved over her skin, down her sides and along her breasts. Then for a time, he held the fleshy mounds tightly in his palms until finally he released them and continued with the fervent massage. His firm caress opened her wide, as his cock grew hard inside her. She could feel the steady pulse of his sexual energy, the very substance of the man that extended to the depths of this exquisite moment. And then, when she least expected it, her slow, rising arousal crescendoed into a subtle, yet strangely powerful climax. Her pussy squeezed down on his organ, drawing him even deeper inside her. He came as she clenched, with their bodies moving in a synchronous rhythm that was smooth and fluid and felt like love. As his cum filled her pussy, she felt bathed and reborn. Never had sex been quite like this.

  “Oh my, what have you done to me?” she purred in his ear, in awe of what had just transpired.

  He seemed as amazed as she was, but he had no explanation as to how or why that happened now. Some things happen without a master plan – maybe most things do.

  When she moved down to his side, she lay back wondering exactly what he’d done to her with those roving hands, how she’d cum on something as subtle as touch alone. Thankfully, the question didn’t require an answer because she knew she wouldn’t have one.

  That night, he spooned her from behind, with her ass nestled into his warm crotch. Moonlight glared into the room from the window above them and lit the room with a mellow glow. It had been a good day and a good night. All four days had been perfect. Settling and soothing. An easy kind of fun without the hot heat of something savage and sexually raw. Maybe he didn’t think she could take it, but in all honesty, after such a lengthy absence from this special part of her life, she would have taken anything he offered her. This time it was kindness, subtlety and playfulness, something easy and without stretching limits, heading for boundaries that might be tough to breach. Was he holding out on her, hoping she might beg for something rough and kinky? She tossed the idea aside. He was kind because she needed a little kindness now and she was grateful that he realized that.