by Diana Hunter
He chuckled. “After that, my visits to the back room became more frequent but always controlled by him. I didn’t realize it until much later, but in many ways, Uncle Irv was my first mentor. He taught me a great deal about the lifestyle, but in language a boy could understand. I owe him more than I could ever express.”
“And so do I.” Sarah shyly put her hand on his thigh and gave it a squeeze.
They rode in companionable silence for several miles. Not until they turned onto the country road that led to the cottage did Sarah broach a subject she had been turning over in her mind. She chose to use his title, signaling her train of thought.
“Sir, the torc I was just measured for. You said it would be a symbol to a select group of people that we were wed. What did you mean by that?”
“The civil ceremony we’re planning will be the legal one. That’s the one that binds us in the eyes of not only the law but by all standards of society.”
“Right. Is there another one?”
“By agreeing to be my wife, you agreed to wear my collar.”
Sarah nodded. “Yes, but I already do that.” She thought about the thick leather collar waiting for her at the cottage. The snick of it locking home always gave her a little thrill. So what purpose did the torc… She turned to him. “Wait, do you mean…”
He pulled in the drive and parked next to the house before turning to her. “Yes, I do mean. The torc I will put around your neck will bind you to me forever, Sarah. We’ll have a second ceremony that night. One with fewer guests, yet no less meaningful.” He took a deep breath. “Probably more meaningful, really.”
“How so?” Sarah wasn’t afraid, though her heart was beating hard. She put her hand over his as she faced him in the car.
“We will exchange another set of vows, vows you and I will write together. I will promise my love and fidelity, just like in the civil ceremony, but I’ll also promise to protect you and keep you forever.”
Sarah began to understand the drift the vows would take. “And to my promise of love and fidelity, I’ll be promising to serve you always?”
“Something like that.”
She saw doubt in his eyes and with a shock, realized he didn’t know if she would agree to this. “Phillip, we probably should have talked about this earlier but to be honest, I want to be with you. Always. I want to serve you and I definitely like being your sex slave.” She couldn’t keep down the naughty grin that spread across her face. “Saying vows to that effect will only formalize what we already have.”
Phillip reached across the car and kissed her. Hard, taking possession of her all over again and Sarah kissed back, giving all that she could. He must never doubt this was what she wanted with all her heart.
Not until their lips parted did Phillip pull back from her, a look on his face like that of a little boy who hadn’t told the entire truth about breaking a window. Sarah braced herself, knowing there was something more. But Phillip’s words, at first, seemed innocuous.
“The torc will be permanent, Sarah.”
She nodded. “Of course it will. Just like the wedding band.”
“No, a wedding band can be removed.”
Sarah frowned, then sat back as his meaning suddenly dawned. “You mean I’ll never be able to take it off?”
“It will be welded on during the ceremony.”
“Oh.” She sat for a moment, trying to decide how she felt about that. Her pussy twitched. Welded on meant she would be his slave. Forever. She would never be able to remove it. Ever. She swallowed hard, her hand going to her throat, feeling the naked skin and trying to imagine the strip of silver there for always.
Slowly she lowered her hand and looked at Phillip, who sat facing her, his arm up on the steering wheel and a concerned look on his face. She knew that if she objected, he wouldn’t press the issue but his disappointment would be palpable. Something irrevocable would change between them if she refused.
Did she want to refuse? After Tom’s death, Sarah hadn’t known if she could ever find love again. With Phillip, she had discovered not only that she could, but that she could love again tenfold. She glanced at her empty ring finger. When married to Tom, she had never taken her wedding band off. Ever. What would be the difference with the collar?
The difference would be the lack of choice. With the ring, she could wear it or not as it pleased her. With the torc, she would wear it whether she wanted it on or not. She would have no choice.
She smiled softly to herself. That wasn’t true. By agreeing to marry Phillip, she’d already made her choice. She looked over at him where he waited anxiously for her answer.
“I would love to have that beautiful torc welded on as a sign of my submissiveness, as a sign of my slavery, Sir.”
Chapter Four
Boundaries
Phillip wanted her. Now. The total submission she was agreeing to had hardened his cock and the light of passion in her eyes enflamed him.
“Get out of the car.” His voice was a growl as he unlatched the cage of the animal he kept locked inside, cursing himself for dressing her in jeans and not a skirt.
Sarah anticipated his mood, pulling her blouse out of her jeans as she came around the front of the car. A far cry from the night before when he had her undress on the porch. Then she’d been nervous and embarrassed that someone driving by might see. Today, the light in her eyes shone with the feral light of her inner slut. They could rut right here in the broad daylight of the now-mild autumn day and she wouldn’t object.
Grabbing her around the waist, Phillip pulled her into his demanding kiss. Eagerly, she obeyed his unspoken command, giving him her submission as he unzipped her jeans even as his kiss devoured her lips. His tongue plundered her willing mouth, tasting her sweetness, feeding on its hunger.
They parted only long enough for her to pull her jeans off and for him to release his cock from the confines of his pants. Already he stood hard and wanting, his cock rigid with desire, the tip darkened with need.
The animal inside him had taken Sarah on the steps one night when Phillip had been unable to keep him in his cage. Today, in the bright sunlight, with the birds singing in the trees, the animal didn’t even have the patience to take those few steps. Putting his hands around her waist, Phillip lifted her up onto the hood of his car and spread her legs. White cream glistened in her slit.
“Oh, yes. My slave likes this, doesn’t she? She likes to submit to my will, to my whims.”
He stepped in close to her, the tip of his cock brushing against that warm wetness. Sliding his hands under her blouse, he pulled her up to him with one hand around her back while mauling her breast with the other. Her eyes closed and a low moan came from the back of her throat as he squeezed her flesh.
“Do you want this, slave? Do you want to be taken out here in the driveway?” He pinched her nipple hard, just to hear her gasp of breath. Before she could respond, he bent and sucked it into his mouth, biting down to hear the wonderful squeal he knew she could make.
She didn’t disappoint him. Her hands on the hood behind her supported her and she used them now to try to push her pussy toward him. But his grip on her was too tight and she barely moved down an inch.
“Right here in broad daylight, slave? You know what that makes you?” He leaned down to whisper the word in her ear. “A slut.” His cock throbbed. The warmth of her pussy beckoned but he held on, enjoying the sweet torment.
“With all due respect, Sir,” Sarah breathed, her eyes slowly opening and revealing the response of her own animal. “Shut up and fuck me.”
Her words threw open the cage door and he lost control, slamming his cock into her. She cried under him as he forced his way deeper and deeper, his hand squeezing her breast between his fingers, his mouth claiming her even as his cock slid deep inside. Part of him—a small voice that was all that remained of his sanity—told him he was hurting her but he couldn’t stop. The car moved under them in time to his thrusts and still he pumped, slamming himse
lf deep inside. And then her muscles contracted around his cock, pulling him in as she came around him. Her legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him into her with a passion to match his own. Throwing his head back, he growled as he came, his body exploding into hers, pumping his cum deep inside until he had nothing left to give. Desperately he clung to her as he slowed, needing her embrace to tame him. The beast—sated—slunk back into its cage. Gulping down a big breath, he let it out slowly as his body finally relaxed.
Sarah felt his muscles relax and she pulled him to her as she lay back on the hood, not ready to move yet. Turning her head, she looked at the porch steps. He’d lost control like this only once before, right over there. She smiled up at the treetops. Must be something about this particular part of the property.
He didn’t stir for several minutes and she lifted her head to look down on him. A slight breeze lifted his hair a little and he shivered. Slowly he rose onto his hands and looked at her.
“What you do to me, woman…”
“No more than you do to me on a regular basis, my dear Sir.”
He stepped back and she slid off the hood and onto her knees before him. Before he could tuck his cock away, she leaned forward, capturing it in her lips. Looking up at him for permission, she waited.
When he nodded, she cleaned him with her tongue, wiping away all traces of their activity. Only when she was satisfied did she reach up and tuck his cock back into his pants and help him zip them up. She saw her own jeans draped over a bush where she—he?—had thrown them. In her passion, she had ripped them off but had he taken them from her or had she flung them all the way over there? Waltzing over to retrieve them, she made sure he got a good look at her swaying ass.
Phillip put his arm around her when she returned, drawing her close as they covered the short distance to the house. “If I hadn’t just come, I’d take you again, you minx.” He bussed her nose, then yawned as they climbed the steps.
“I do believe I’ve worn you out, Sir,” she teased.
He grinned and opened the door for her, bowing her in. “You did, slave. You most certainly did. Into the bedroom with you.” He yawned again and Sarah grinned.
She helped him undress and slide under the covers, then undressed herself the rest of the way and slid in beside him. His eyes were already closed but he still snuggled in, using her breasts as his pillow. Sarah lay there, holding him in her arms, content to just listen to him breathe. Bending down, she kissed the top of his head, his hair soft against her lips. “Sleep now, my dear Master,” she whispered. “You deserve a rest after that.”
Sarah dozed in and out for the next half hour while Phillip slept on. In truth, sex like that often invigorated her. Finally, unable to lie still any longer, she slid out from under Phillip and got up to go to the bathroom.
When she came back, she studied him in the late afternoon light. He had rolled over on his back, one arm thrown up over his head, the other across his belly. A stray sunbeam slanted through the window to land right straight on the mound of his cock and Sarah chuckled. Only him.
She sighed and looked around the room, pursing her lips. So what was she supposed to do now? Without Phillip to command her, she was restless and unsure.
Wandering out to the kitchen, she looked around for signs of what Phillip wanted for dinner. Last time this had happened she’d found meat marinating in the fridge and had taken it upon herself to cook dinner. She’d been concerned that he wouldn’t like the fact that she had gotten up and taken the initiative but that hadn’t been the case. He’d explained he wasn’t looking for an unthinking doormat but a partner—a woman who had a mind and wasn’t afraid to use it.
Quietly she shut the door to the refrigerator. Nothing in there to give her a clue. The sun went behind a cloud and Sarah glanced out the back door. Off to the west the sky had an ominous look. Mentally she ran through all the rooms, determining which windows would probably need to be shut when the rain came. A breeze came in through the open door that was decidedly cool. The temperature was dropping again.
Idly she walked from room to room. Come on, Sarah. Think. What would you be doing if you were home at your apartment? That was easy. She’d be dusting, vacuuming, packing. She ran a finger over the mantelpiece in the living room. No dust. Only area rugs on the floor and they looked clean. So did the wood floors. Kitchen floor didn’t need to be mopped.
Damn. My crocheting is home. So is my book. Should’ve brought them with me. Hey! She looked at the front door. How could she have forgotten? Her trunk was filled with things she was bringing to Phillip’s. Not too many, as most of her stuff was going into storage until she could decide what to do with it all. But she had brought her albums and CDs, intending to mesh her collection with Phillip’s.
Despite the fact that they had just had sex on the hood of Phillip’s car, Sarah still hesitated in the doorway. Being naked and in the throes of passion was one thing. But going out in the cold light of day wearing nothing but her birthday suit just to get a few boxes out of the back of her car was something else. She remembered that pickup truck roaring down the road last night when Phillip had her undress on the porch.
She chickened out. Grabbing a jacket from the closet just inside the door, Sarah slipped her arms through and hurried out to her car. The hem just covered her rear end, until she bent over the back to pick up the first box. Even though no one was around, she blushed and hurried back to the safety of the house.
By the time she brought the third box to the porch, the rain had started. Big drops spattered the drive as she slammed the trunk shut and hurried up the steps. She made it just inside the door when the heavens opened. Shrugging off the jacket, she hung it up and was just turning around when she felt Phillip’s hands on her waist.
“What a sight to come out to,” he murmured into her hair and Sarah snuggled into his arms.
“I couldn’t sleep, so decided to go get these few boxes I brought with me. Figured it would be easier to bring a few each time rather than have to deal with a whole lot after the wedding.”
“Show me what you’ve got?”
Sarah laughed as she bent down and hefted the smallest of the boxes. “I think you’ve mostly seen what I’ve got.”
Phillip picked up the largest box with ease and hefted it to his shoulder, his grin turning to a frown. “You carried this all by yourself? Sarah, call me next time. I don’t want you lifting things this heavy.”
She stopped at the archway to the living room. “It wasn’t that heavy. I’m not some wimpy little pretty girl, you know.”
He arched an eyebrow at her and she realized her tone had been a little snippy. “I’m sorry, Phillip. But I’m perfectly capable of knowing what I can and can’t carry. If it had been too much for me, I would have waited until you could get it for me.”
Sarah led the way into the living room and set her box down on the small trunk that served for a coffee table. Phillip set his down on the floor and she stood, waiting for him to sit on the couch.
Except he didn’t. He simply stood beside her as if waiting. Sarah wasn’t sure what he wanted and feeling a bit like a girl who had just been scolded for doing something good, she grudgingly put her hands behind her back, spread her feet apart and took a stance of submissiveness.
Phillip’s fingers under her chin forced her to look up at him.
“I never said this was going to be easy. Nor did I mean to impugn your judgment. You must learn that you do not need to do everything yourself.”
Sarah took a deep breath. “I’m used to doing for myself. Even when Tom was alive. Being in the military meant he was away a lot. After he died, well, for a while it just felt as if he were out on maneuvers for a really, really long time.” Her eyes dropped, though he kept her chin up. After a moment, she looked up at him again. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I guess I’m just a little frustrated by not knowing what I’m allowed to do on my own.”
Phillip nodded and sat on the couch, gesturing for her to sit
by his side. “Doing this twenty-four/seven is much different than doing it only on the weekends, isn’t it?”
She nodded, then looked up at him as he put his arm around her shoulders. “I almost feel like we need a code or something. On the weekends it’s easy.” She nodded toward the front door. “I come through that door and leave my other life outside. I’m not expected to do anything but serve you, mostly sexually but I don’t mind serving in other ways either.” Sarah looked up at him. “My role is clear when I’m here only on weekends. It’s exactly where I want to be.”
“But this weekend you find yourself slipping out of that role.”
She nodded. “I do. And I don’t know why.”
He brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek. “I do.”
“Then what is it?”
“Do you remember when I told you part of what I was doing to you was training your body? That the world had taught you that being tied up and controlled was a bad thing, but it isn’t?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Your body has responded, hasn’t it?”
Sarah blushed, remembering how wanton she felt out on the hood of the car. Who would have thought she would ever not only agree to such a thing but want it with all her heart? “Yes,” she whispered. “My body likes what you do it. A lot.”
Phillip chuckled. “Your mind, however, still gives you trouble, doesn’t it?”
Sarah made a face. “All the time. I mean, part of my mind is fine. It accepts submission on a very logical level. That part understands not only that it can’t be in charge all the time but that it doesn’t want to be.”
“And the other part?”
“The other part screams bloody murder at me for giving up my rights to free will. Loudly. And I don’t know where the line is between them. Even though I know they’re not, both sides feel right.”
“Both sides are right.” Phillip turned her around so he could take both her hands in his. “Both sides are right,” he repeated, emphasizing his point. “You spoke before of a code, that when you come here on the weekend, the door serves as a physical boundary between one part of your life and the other.”